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dayables · 3 years ago

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I posted 5,514 times in 2021

382 posts created (7%)

5132 posts reblogged (93%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 13.4 posts.

I added 348 tags in 2021

#the everydaybabble experisance - 65 posts

#dream smp - 60 posts

#tubbo - 49 posts

#dsmp - 43 posts

#wilbur soot - 30 posts

#ranboo - 27 posts

#dsmpblr - 23 posts

#yttd 3b spoilers - 20 posts

#tommyinnit - 18 posts

#mcyt - 13 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#literally my face was blurred a hood was up and i had a mask on my whole figure was obscured by a huge ass coat and i still wake up in sweat

My Top Posts in 2021

cc!Tubbo appreciation :D

The dude is just so cool.

Like, I opened stream once and he was just playing ukulele and im fairly certain he’d gotten side tracked but he was having fun and doing what he wanted. Which was fun to watch. Yeah I thought there’d be funky block men but funky Tubbo and guitar was better.

Or the chess stream where he was dancing and singing and spinning in the chair, then still won. Like, he’s so good at chess and that takes brains so he’s really smart and aaaaaa.

HE PLAYS THE WII PARTY THEME SONG!

And the skill he has as a streamer, to do those alt streams for like 6-9 hours almost everyday, then go on others streams and still bring energy (though it varies). That’s just nuts.

I’ll push this and push this but he’s so good at lore and roleplay and aaaa.

I’ve already said he’s smart in the chess segment but the things he talks about, apparently he talked about genetic engineering in Ranboo’s stream, are so intresting. And chat does a huge disservevice when they tell him to shut up because no. Let Tubbo be smart, let him talk about these bloody intresting things he knows about, or is learning about, or just has thoughts about.

THE DUDE CAN PADDLE BOARD, HE PADDLE BOARDS IN JEANS, KING SHIT.

cc!Tubbo is so bloody cool and there will be other posts that explain even more amazing things he does. He’s my favourite streamer for a reason. He’s so cool and I can’t say it enough.

109 notes • Posted 2021-04-12 19:27:19 GMT

Tommy’s reactions to everyone thinking he’s dead are understandable seeing as he has gone through yet another traumatizing situation and no one is caring a bit. They are curious first, something which (probably) reminds him of Dream claiming his death can be ‘a science experiment.’ They are constantly reminding him of this. The major changes the server has been through are unsettling

And Everyone has grieved or is still grieving. In what has been a month since Tommy was imprisoned and 11 days since he died, moving on is the natural process of time. They do not know what Tommy went through and there disbelief is at the front of their mind. This is understandable and they will need time to adjust to having him back.

are statements that can and should co-exist.

114 notes • Posted 2021-03-12 21:30:15 GMT

Season 1 and Season 2 of the Dream SMP were written very differently to each other.

Season 1 focused more on one plot thread about L’manberg. Everyone was in one side out of three on their view. Dream SMP, L’manberg and Pogtopia (in what I refer in my head as the second act). Each pov could have their own lil plot thread but the setting was of more importance in the freedom of the story they could tell. Eret being a traitor isn’t important because Eret’s the traitor. It’s impactful because of who is being betrayed. Character’s such as Wilbur, who used L’manberg to grow the character of course were going to come on top.

Season 2 had multiple plot threads about the aftermath as people reacted differently. Which was to be expected. This is what allows Niki to go villain, Tubbo’s difficulty as president and Dream and Tommy’s exile arc. because setting took a back seat. The story is no longer L’manbergs story but the character’s story. When Techno stopped focusing on L’manberg but governments or Dream stopped caring about L’manberg but sentiments we see a change. because L’manberg is only important If they chose for it to be important. That is why Ranboo and Techno can hold up away from L’manberg with interesting plots over in the Artic and the eggpire. There is nothing holding all the characters together for one plot. everyone can do what they want with more freedom. It is only a suggestion

And both of these ways of writing work well in the Dream SMP. The use of Twitch allows Season 2′s style to work. It’s brilliant use of the platform. We have preferences. Okay, sure fine. I prefer Season 1′s way of writing. You can prefer season 2′s. I for one am interested in how what Season 3 will follow with the current set-up.

What I’m trying to say here is don’t shit on the writers, be that Wilbur or Techno, Tommy, Dream and Quackity. The way the Dream SMP was written in the seasons made it just as easy for anyone to snatch the spotlight. It only seems like Wilbur did it because in the second act, he was the only person in Pogtopia (an already small group may I add) with anything big going down. I don’t know what goes on behind the scenes but that is how it has appeared to me,

135 notes • Posted 2021-02-08 13:35:06 GMT

Grey Morality and the DSMP

Everyone on the Dream SMP is morally gr- NO!

But they all have their own selfish motivat-SO CLOSE YET SO FAR!

Morally Grey characters are people who do too much bad to be good AND too much good to be bad.

Think Robin Hood. He steals Bad. He gives that money to the poor Good!

Now let’s apply this too Dream SMP characters.

Dream: He abused Tommy Bad. He wants the server to be united Good! So, does wanting the server to be united balance out abusing Tommy? No!

Tommy: He burnt down George’s house Bad. He takes actions to protect others. Good! Griefing is an average activity on the SMP, burning George’s house isn’t dreadful. Meanwhile he tries to protect Tubbo etc... That’s a good thing that outweighs the bad things. This doesn’t mean Tommy is perfect. It doesn’t mean you cannot critic his actions. It just means he’s not morally grey. He’s just your average person. You don’t call the average person morally grey

Sam: Chopped off Ponk’s arm Bad! Keeps Dream in the prison and others safe away from him Good!

Is c!Sam good or bad? Does keeping dream locked up justify chopping off c!Ponks arm? That's what makes Sam morally grey.

The discussion on good v bad can go both ways without excusing the bad things, or forgetting the good.

So stop saying everyone's morally grey. Most people on this server are, Yes. Everyone is. Oh hell no.

You can still criticize and defend characters who aren't morally grey.

346 notes • Posted 2021-05-08 17:07:22 GMT

I keep seeing teams of just Tubbo

see, I believe that Tubbo alone could win an mcc (assuming their were 4 of him). So, like the bored person I am. I put in MCC16 teams into the reddit’s stat simulator, and replaced all of aqua with Tubbo.

As you can see in the bottom, Aqua is indeed, all Tubbo. He could win with this order. I’d believe in him.

In 165 runs of the simulation randomized, just Tubbo would win 19 of those times, making him the 3rd most likely team.

I believe in

465 notes • Posted 2021-08-15 15:39:46 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #i like to call this one: I am a tubbling #the everydaybabble experisance

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iamcalmdammit · 3 years ago

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She said yes 4 - Lullaby || [Steven Grant x reader x Jake Lockley]

Summary: Steven and Marc find out about Jake. Harrow sends his men to kidnap you and Jake takes the lead to get you back.

Note: part 1, part 2 and part 3. Unedited as usual. I hope everyone's on the taglist. If not, let me know! It's shorter than usual and I'm not entirely happy with it. What do you think?

Words: 2.8k

Taglist: @crystalchrysalis19 @pyrokineticbaby @susbuttercup @abrielleholland @yuukiahim @0mint-chocolate0 @collyrubies @wheresgamora @tubble-wubble

Steven didn’t exactly know what you were talking about, but something told him it was related to the third alter. After all, you called someone a son of a bitch just a few seconds ago, just after he told you about their theory. Thinking this conversation might be one that concerns Marc as well, he excused himself and went to the bathroom to grab a small mirror. It was way easier to communicate with his alter that way.

Then he returned and sat on the other side of the bed, watching you with a worried yet intrigued look on his face. Whatever it was you were about to tell him, it made you feel guilty and anxious, and he hated to see you in such a terrible state of mind. You were losing your grip as the minutes passed and Steven had no idea how to help you. He did the only thing he could do by wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against his body, his hand rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you.

“What is it that you want to tell me?” he asked quietly, resting his chin on top of your head.

You took a deep breath and desperately held onto his arm. “That third alter you were talking about. I know him,” you admitted.

His entire body froze. You knew? Steven glanced over at the mirror, seeing a just as shocked expression on Marc’s face. There were so many questions he wished he could get the answer to, but he had to ask them one by one. One question, one answer. It could only work that way. “For how long?”

“Just a few days.”

“How… did you find out?”

You inhaled and exhaled slowly before replying. “He visited me after the proposal. At first, he tried to act like you, but then his accent slipped and I thought it was Marc. But… We know Marc, he wouldn’t do anything like this. So I asked him who he was and he told me his name.”

“Which is?”

“Jake.”

Ask her about him. What he’s like, what he’s doing with the body.

Steven shook his head and tried to ignore Marc. He wasn’t interested in that now, he wanted to know why this Jake acted like him. Why did he propose, why did he go back later? Maybe it was jealousy, knowing that another man—with whom he was sharing a body with—was getting close to his fiancée. Based on the tone of your voice there was more to this story.

“There has to be more. Am I right? What did he want from you?”

Looking down at your hands, you carefully thought about how to answer this question. “He told me he loved me.”

“Excuse me, what?” he asked incredulously. “What do you mean he loves you?”

“Exactly what it means. He wants to prove he’s the better choice.”

That’s not important, Steven. Focus on what Jake does with the body!

“Shh!” Steven told him angrily.

You raised your head gave him a questioning look. “I’m sorry?”

“I was talking to Marc, sorry.”

“What does he want?” you asked tiredly.

Why couldn’t Marc keep his mouth shut so he could focus on you? Shaking his head, Steven raised his hands. “It doesn’t matter now, I’m more interested in my alter being in love with my fiancée. What—What did you tell him? How did you react?”

“I asked him to stop, to understand that I’m with you. That’s why I didn’t tell you about it, because that was the deal. He stops with the flirting, and in return I keep his little secret,” you told him.

“Did he give up?” You remained suspiciously silent. “Y/N, you can tell me.”

Your hesitation couldn’t be a good sign. Steven wasn’t stupid, he knew how hard it must be to forget that the same body doesn’t necessarily have the same person inside. With Marc it was easy—you didn’t hate each other, but you both kept your distance. But if this Jake was flirting with you, even pretended to be him before, it wouldn’t be impossible to forget they weren’t the same people.

But Steven trusted you. He had to trust you.

“Remember when you lost track of what you were saying last night?” you asked after what felt like an eternity. “When we were talking about grabbing something to eat.” Steven nodded. “Yeah, that was because of Jake. He fronted and tried to hijack our date.”

Burying his hand in his messy hair, Steven let out a groan. “That’s just great. Amazing. And what he did this morning is… Did you know it was him?”

“No!”

“Are you sure?”

“Steven, come on,” you said, visibly disappointed that he didn’t believe you. And at that moment Steven knew you meant it, after all, you were just as surprised about the blackout that morning as he was. “I’ve been trying to get him to stop trying to get close to me, I—This is ridiculous, I’m leaving. I need some fresh air,” you suddenly told him as you got out of bed and began to get dressed.

He should have trusted you sooner or he should have kept his feelings out of this conversation for now. He made a mistake. “Wait, let’s just sit down and talk about it. Please,” he pleaded, putting a hand on your arm to get your attention.

“No, not now, I think we’re both too upset to have a normal conversation about this.”

You were right about that. While he wanted to trust you—and he did trust you at the bottom of his heart—it was hard to get over the fact that you slept with his alter just a few hours ago. Maybe you didn’t know it was him. Maybe it was just as big of a surprise for you as it was for him. But he needed answers, he needed to know if you were beginning to have feelings for that guy.

Did he have competition now? It was so nice and easy with Marc and Layla, when the biggest problem was their marriage standing in the way of yours. Why couldn’t life stay that… simple?

Steven pulled the curtain aside to watch you walk away from the building, but what he saw in the end was definitely not what he was expecting. A cab stopped next to you, which wasn’t a surprising sight, but then a guy jumped out an dragged you inside the car before leaving the scene.

“Y/N!” He cried out in desperation, his brain finally catching up. Someone kidnapped you. But who? And why you? “No, no, no, please, tell me I’m just imagining it. Marc!” he yelled as he raced to the bedroom and picked up the small mirror from the bed. “Can you find her?”

I think it was Harrow’s idea to kidnap her. Someone’s been following you for a few days, but I didn’t want to scare you.

“Bloody hell, I’m sure I have the right to know if I’m being followed!”

Just take a deep breath, Steven, everything’s gonna be alright. I promise.

Wait, if they were targeting their loved ones, it meant you weren’t the only target. “What about Layla? Do you think they’re after her as well?” he asked, worried that both of you could end up in the same situation.

I’m sure she would have noticed if she was being followed. She can protect herself.

“I’ll call her.”

“Well, we have no time for that,” Jake noted once he forcefully took control of the body.

Steven was panicking from the moment he saw you being pushed inside that cab. Marc could and probably would find you eventually, but who knew how far he would have to go against Harrow’s men. No, Jake couldn’t risk Marc chickening out last minute, so he took the lead for now.

Even with the very limited connections he had in London, it wasn’t too hard to figure out where to look. A cult usually has its reputation in certain circles. Before Harrow could even send a message about your abduction, he already knew where to go for you. And he went, without thinking, right into the middle of danger. Only because of you.

If it was Layla, he would let Marc handle it because as her husband he would probably have a strong enough motivation to save her, but now it was you who had to be found and brought back. He had to do it for his own—and as much as he hated to admit it, for Steven’s—peace of mind. The thought of losing you was driving him crazy, making him angrier and angrier with each passing second.

They kept you in an old, abandoned-looking building with armed guards around it. It wasn’t a question that they had to go. Every single one of them. And so he killed the guards, one by one, going on until he finally found the room he was looking for.

“Here you are,” he noted quietly as he rushed inside and sat on the edge of the dirty bed you were in. “Hey, Y/N, are you okay?” But you didn’t answer. You were alive, he checked your pulse, but you looked way too sleepy to respond. “What the hell did they give you?”

Once he understood that you were too sedated to get up on your own or even know where you were, he took you in his arms and walked out of the now empty building. Hopefully you just needed to sleep it off and it was nothing more than that. For a short while he considered finding a doctor to check on you, but he soon dismissed the idea. Patience. That was all he needed.

Jake took you to his—okay, technically Steven’s—apartment and barely left your side in the day or so while you were out. He was lying next to you in bed, occasionally wrapping an arm around you and pulling your body close to his. Even if you were asleep, he wanted you to feel safe.

Then you finally opened your eyes and slowly sat up in bed. He was right there by your side, putting an arm around your shoulder as he took a close look at your face. “What happened?” you asked him tiredly.

“Harrow’s men kidnapped you,” he replied after a short pause. “I don’t know what happened to you, but they must have given you a strong sedative because it knocked you out.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“For about a day, maybe a little more since I brought you back.”

Nodding, you looked down at your hands. “Can I have a stupid question? My brain doesn’t work very well yet,” you explained timidly.

“Sure.”

“Who are you?”

It was a perfectly understandable question. The last person you saw was Steven, but you could probably tell something wasn’t right, that it wasn’t him fronting at the moment. “Jake,” he replied with a small smile.

“So you were the one who saved me?”

“Of course. Steven panicked, and Marc,” he began then stopped to let out a short laugh, “I didn’t want to let him take all the credit.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m just glad you’re safe. Are you hungry?”

“No, I’m not.

“Thirsty?” Finally, you nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

Jake was happy to help you. He wasn’t the kind of person to do that for everyone, but taking care of you was something different. It felt… nice. He could get used to being around you more often. Well, that’s what he’d been trying to achieve, wasn’t it? Maybe now he will have the chance to make you see how good you would be together. That he would take care if you even in ways Steven could never. After all, how far would he be willing to go to get you back? Probably not as far as him.

Soon he was back in the bedroom, now with a glass of cold water in his hand. “Thank you,” you said as you took it from him.

“You don’t have to thank me anything,” he told you as he sat back to his previous spot and took your free hand. “You know how I feel, that’s the least I can do for you.”

“Jake, please.”

“I know, I know. But I’m here whenever you need me, okay?” he said before gently kissing the top of your head.

Your expression changed suddenly, as if you’d just realized something important. “That’s why you came to get me then?” you asked when you finally turned to look at him.

Jake nodded, his thumb caressing your skin absentmindedly as he spoke up. “I didn’t want to risk losing you. Steven panicked and has no fighting experience, and I wasn’t sure Marc would be able to do whatever it takes to get you back.”

“What did you do?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he told you as he raised your hand and placed a soft kiss on it. “Why don’t take a shower? I’ll make you some coffee.”

You agreed then took the shirt and boxers Jake gave you before disappearing behind the bathroom door. He was still on the edge, having a hard time accepting that you were now safe by his side. There was a part of him that made him restless, expecting Harrow’s men to show up and try to drag you away again. Shaking his head, he went to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee as he’d promised to you.

Seeing you should have been enough to calm him down. You were there. You were okay. You were safe. Yet, his mind couldn’t fully accept it. Is this what being in love is like? Being so worried about the other that you put your common sense aside? Either way, he had to get over it now. You couldn’t see him being worried sick about you.

By the time you returned to the bedroom, Jake was already in bed, waiting for you with a book in his hand. Though he tried to read, in the end he only managed to flip through the pages and read the summary on its back because his mind always returned to you. Why was it so hard to focus on anything else with you around?

“Feeling better?” he asked while you sat on the bed next to him.

“A little. I’m still sleepy though.”

Jake nodded and pointed at the cup on the nightstand. “Then drink your coffee and go back to sleep. You have time.”

“Will you stay here with me until I fall asleep?”

This question took him by surprise. You wanted him to stay? He feared you would immediately ask for Steven, the man who was his strongest competition at the moment. “Do you want me to?” You nodded with your eyes on him. “Sure, I’ll be here,” he replied with a smile.

You quickly finished your coffee then laid on your stomach next to him with your hands tucked under the pillow. Jake swept a strand of hair out of your face while he watched you, his brain trying to process the fact you were in bed with him and that you asked him to stick around for a little longer. Could this mean that you were slowly warming up to him?

He didn’t even notice that he began to quietly sing a lullaby to you, his fingers stroking your chin as he looked you in the eye. He loved this sight and he wished this moment would never end. Steven was lucky to have you, and it was his very own misfortune that you were so in love with his alter.

“What is this?” you asked eventually.

“A lullaby.”

The corners of your lips curled into a smile. “It’s nice,” you told him, reaching up to put a hand over his.

Jake didn’t hesitate to intertwine your fingers then he began to wonder if he should try to kiss you. Just one small kiss on the lips, nothing more. But the more he thought about it, the worse this idea seemed to be. You were tired, recovering from being kidnapped by a maniac, and he couldn’t use this opportunity to get what he wanted. It should happen when you were alright, when you were fully aware of what was happening around you.

Yes. As hard as it was, he had to be patient.

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(part 5)

#moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #marc spector #steven grant imagine #steven grant imagines #jake lockley imagines #jake lockley imagine #moon knight imagines #moon knight imagine

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theowritesstuff · 3 years ago

Text

Fooled Around and Fell in Love: Chapter 8

*gif credit to @lodeddiperrodrick

Adrian Chase x afab!gn!reader

Previous Chapter

Spoilers for Ep 8 of Peacemaker

Summary: You fight with the team to kill the cow.

Warnings: violence, guns, knives, unaliving

Taglist: @caramelkatsukis-bitch @myguiltypleasures21 @thedamchii @flower-slut00 @leverage-ot3 @fanofverymanythings @tubble-wubble @themartiansdaughter

The drive to the ranch was pretty tense. You were sat next to Adrian, his arm looped through yours, and his head resting on your shoulder. You could tell he was tired. If you survived this you were going to make sure the poor boy got some rest.

Chris and Adebayo sat across from you. They attempted to sit as far away from one another as possible.

“I know I’m the last person that you wanna hear from right now Chris, and I-”

Chris cut her off by blowing a raspberry at her, mimicking the sound of a fart.

Adrian picked his head up off your shoulder, and watched the interaction.

“I can’t apologize enough for-”

Once again, she was interrupted with farting noises. Adrian let out a laugh.

“I know that you’re mad, but from the bottom of my heart-”

This time, Adrian joined in with the fart noises. You gave Adebayo a sympathetic look.

“I’m sorry, I can’t control him.” You shrugged.

Adebayo sighed, and attempted to apologize again. “I really am sorry, I’m just trying to-”

You honestly didn’t know why she kept trying.

“I am just trying to apologize!” She shouted.

“And I thought you were my fucking friend! You set me up to take the fall and then you try to send me to prison and you think I’m sorry is gonna cut it?”

“Guys, now is really not the time-” You tried to reason with them.

“Cut it!” Adrian cut you off with more fart noises.

“Dude, we’re off it!” Chris snapped at Adrian.

“We are?” He asked, his eyes wide, a frown on his face.

“I’m getting so many moral judgements from people who regularly kill people.” Adebayo said, staring off.

“Hey, what did I do?” You asked, a frown now taking over your face.

“I don’t kill people for nothing, all right? When my brother died, I made a vow-”

“Right, the vow.”

This was going to go on for a while. You leaned on Adrian’s shoulder, and closed your eyes. Might as well try to get some rest, right?

“Are you guys serious right now?” Adrian asked. “We just had a really sick time murdering Peacemaker’s dad, then all these hilarious fart jokes, just like, an all-time classic run, with my best friend, my second best friend, Eagly, my fifth best friend Adebayo, and now you guys are ruining it.”

You lifted your head, and turned to him, looking at him questioningly. “Where am I on that best friend list?” You asked him, your eyebrows raised.

“Oh, you’re not on the best friend list babe, you’re your own separate thing.” He said as if it was obvious.

You smiled, and pulled him into a kiss.

“Gross!” Chris shouted.

You spent the rest of the ride cuddled up with Adrian. His armor made it difficult, of course, but you guys made it work.

When you finally pulled up to the ranch, you all got out of the truck, and started unpacking weapons.

Adebayo decided to call her mom for some help. “Mom, there are way more butterflies than we thought, and the whole team is injured. So, I was thinking, like, maybe you could call in the Justice League?”

You laughed. Amanda Waller wanted things done quietly. Getting help from the Justice League would not make for a quiet mission.

“Can you believe Amanda Waller’s her fucking mother?” John asked you.

You continued to hand him bags from the truck.

“Yes.” Peacemaker said, walking past you.

“My mom says you’re in charge, and Economos and I should stay back in case anything goes wrong.” Adebayo told Harcourt.

What could possibly go wrong?

You all hiked through the forest, attempting to get a little closer to the barn, without being seen by the butterflies.

“If Waller’s your mom why is your last name Adebayo?” It seemed John had a plethora of ques for Adebayo.

“I took my wife’s name.”

“Hey Y/n, when we get married, will you take my name?” Adrian asked, rushing up to keep in step with you.

“When?” Harcourt asked.

Adrian knew you were it for him, so he hadn’t really thought about “if”.

“Well, seeing as I don’t have a last name, yeah, I’d take yours.”

Adrian tried to shrug and look nonchalant when he spoke, “Well, you can have it now, if you want, just to make it easier to sign government papers and stuff, you know.”

You smiled. “Y/n Chase. I like it.”

Adrian was glad he was wearing his mask then, because his face immediately felt hot.

Adebayo started unpacking all of the extra Peacemaker helmets, while Harcourt started scouting the area.

“Here.”

Adrian was holding out his shoulder strap with his sword.

“You need to keep that for yourself Adrian.”

“But all you have are knives, how’re those supposed to hold up in a fight?” He argued with you.

You held up one of the bags you were carrying. “I’ll still have guns. I'll be okay.” You shrugged.

Adrian looked unconvinced.

Chris explained what each of his different helmets was built to do. Adrian seemed excited about the human torpedo one.

“Sweet!” He said, staring down at the helmet.

You could practically see the gears in his head turning.

“Absolutely not.” You told him.

He turned back to you with a sigh, his lips forming a pout.

Adebayo explained her plan about getting the sonic boom helmet to the top of the barn, and using it remotely to blow up the building. It was actually a pretty good plan.

“Uh, guys?” Adrian called out. “Guys!”

You all turned to see the helmet floating away, into the sky.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed.

“Did you say activate anti-gravity?” If looks could kill, Adebayo would be buried six feet below.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“You can’t fucking say that shit!” He shouted at her.

“I didn’t know it was that voice sensitive!”

“Fuck it, no big deal. I didn’t just kill the only man who knows how to make it.”

“You did just kill the only man who knows how to make it.” Adrian pointed out.

“I know bro! I was being sarcastic!”

“Don’t yell at him!” You shouted at Chris, taking a step in front of Adrian.

“If you’re gonna be sarcastic you should really warn people so there’s no confusion.”

“Okay, so how do we get the sonic boom helmet over to the barn?” Harcourt asked.

“I could take it.” You suggested. You were trained to be unseen, it seemed like that was the best option.

“No.” Adrian’s response was immediate. He didn’t like it when you went into the factory alone, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let you go to the barn alone.

“Well we can shoot a fishing line over to the barn from one of these trees here, and just let the helmet slide down.” Chris suggested next.

“That won’t work, we don’t have any bows.” Harcourt sighed.

“But we do have a team member capable of flight.”

“Get the fuck out.” Harcourt replied.

The next few minutes were spent with Chris explaining to Eagly that he needed to take the helmet, fly to the barn, and drop it on the roof.

“Chris, are you sure he knows what you’re saying?” You asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Eagly’s no ordinary eagle.” He smiled at the bird, then placed the helmet down i front of him.

Eagly immediately started pecking at the helmet with his beak. Chris repeated his instructions over and over. Adrian leaned over Chris’ shoulder, and tried to help, but it seemed he was only annoying him.

Eagly grabbed the helmet in his talons, then started to fly away. Chris let out praises for him. You all watched as Eagly flew toward the barn.

“Oh my god.” You mumbled in shock.

Eagly then decided to fly past the barn, over more forest, and drop it there.

“I knew there was no way he knew what you were talking about!” Harcourt was getting frustrated.

“Peacemaker is a great guy in almost every way, but his biggest flaw is that he commonly overestimates Eagly’s abilities.” Adrian stated.

“Let’s go find that helmet, then we can think of something to do.” You said.

You started walking in the direction the helmet was dropped.

Harcourt and Adebayo went together, and Adrian was put with John, Chris said something about “fucking in the woods” if you and Adrian were paired. So you went with Chris.

Just before you separated from the group, Adrian slipped his hand in yours. It was evident that the thought of splitting up made him anxious. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, and squeezed his hand.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay?” You gave him a reassuring look.

He nodded his head in response, before turning to walk with John.

You Chris had found a sort of clearing in the forest.

“I’ll look over there, you look over here?” You asked him.

“Whatever.”

You knew he was mad about everything that had happened recently, but he really seemed to be taking his frustrations out on the team. You rolled your eyes and walked away.

You didn’t see the helmet anywhere, mostly just branches and leaves that had fallen from the trees.

“Hey Chris, I can’t find it, do you see anything?” You called out.

No response. What was he doing? You headed back in his direction to see him frozen, staring at a tree. You saw him grab his blow gun, and hit the tree with a dart.

“How do you like that, huh?” He asked no one, his voice wavering. “Thanks for coming back ghost, so I could kill you all over again.”

“Chris?” You said softly, trying your hardest not to startle him.

He turned back to you, his eyes wide with fear.

“Are you good?” You asked.

“Fine. I’m fine.”

You looked over at the tree, and saw something shiny on the ground. You ran over, and found the helmet, buried under a pile of leaves.

“Look!” You exclaimed, showing him the helmet. At that moment, if you had lived in a cartoon world, a light bulb would’ve appeared over your head. “I have an idea…”

You watched from the forest as Chris snuck up behind a butterfly sitting on the fence. He quickly stuck a dart into his neck, causing him to fall unconscious.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” John asked as Chris tossed him the butterfly’s uniform. “What the fuck Y/n?”

“I’m sorry, but we need someone to get the helmet to the barn. The three of us can’t go because Goff knows what we look like. Harcourt and Adebayo are too injured to go in.” You explained to him.

“I don’t even wanna be here. And why are these wet?” He asked, annoyed.

“I washed them in the creek.” Chris said.

“Why?”

“One of the things us warriors seldom talk about is how often people shit themselves when they die. It’s a touch of gray in the white cloud of kicking ass.”

John turned to you and gave you a look that read something along the lines of “you’ve got to be kidding”.

“So now you want me to risk my life while wearing diarrhea pants?”

“Hey, nobody said anything about diarrhea. I said it was shit.” Chris defended.

“Was it diarrhea?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Guys, come on. We need to get this done. This is, frankly, the only option we have right now.” You said.

John sighed. “Fuck, fine.” He gathered up the clothes in his arms, then looked at you all expectantly. “Can you look away?”

Soon enough, John was wearing the butterfly’s uniform, and walking towards the barn. He was wearing an earpiece so that he would be able to communicate with all of you.

“God, he’s so stiff. They’re gonna know somethings wrong.” You sighed.

He looked back into the forest; Harcourt quickly responded.

“Don’t look back!”

He started complaining about how bad of an idea this was.

“Remain calm. Head towards the barn like you know what you’re doing. Relax your face.”

“Shut up. I know.” John quipped back.

He continued walking toward the barn, but stopped once he was in front of it.

“Why the hell is he stopping?” You asked yourself. As someone who’s job it was to specifically sneak around, it was painful watching John do this.

“Hey.” Another voice spoke in the speaker. “Where are you going?” They asked.

“I’m going inside.”

“Why?”

“Because of this bag.” John lifted up the bag that held the helmet.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Chris asked.

“Okay. Just wanted to make sure.” The other voice answered.

You let out a relived breath.

“How the fuck did that work?” Chris almost laughed to himself.

John quickly made his way inside the barn, disappearing from view.

“I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” He was starting to panic.

“John, you’re already inside. You’re doing great. Please. What’s there?” Harcourt tried to calm him down.

“Uh, stairs. And an elevator.” He said.

“Take the stairs. The elevator’s gonna draw too much attention.” You told him.

“Yeah, of course. You take fucking stairs.” He sighed, then you heard him moving around.

You looked over to Adrian. He was sitting against a tree. He was silent, which of course was unusual for him. His leg was shaking anxiously. You moved so that you were sitting next to him. You bumped his knee with yours.

“You okay?” You asked, quietly.

He shook his head silently.

“C’mon, don’t tell me the Vigilante is nervous.” You teased.

He turned to you, his eyes wide with fear. “I am nervous. I’m nervous that something might happen to you. That you might die, and I won’t be there to save you.” His words vomited out of his mouth.

“Now you know how I felt when you used that bomb.”

“I’m sorry.” He apologized.

“Hey.” You looped an arm through his. “I’ll be okay. Just like you’re gonna be okay.” You told him.

“Promise?” He asked.

“I promise.”

You sealed your promise by placing a soft kiss on his lips. You went to pull away, but he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, keeping you planted there. You could feel all of his emotions in that kiss. His fear of losing you, the feelings he had for you. It was all there. You pulled away, and kissed his nose.

“We’re gonna be okay.”

“Uh-uh. Fuck it. No more kaijus. No more kaijus. Fuck this.” You hear John over the radio.

“John, do you copy?” Harcourt tried to get him to answer her.

“Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck is that? Cow my ass. It’s a motherfucking caterpillar the size of the Empire State Building. We need to get the fuck out of here!”

“Hey!” The voice from earlier shouted.

“Fuck!” Harcourt exclaimed.

“The man you’ve taken over, why did he do that to his beard?” He asked.

“Do what?” John asked him.

“Why did he color his beard all strange like that?”

Okay, as much as you didn’t want John to be stopped while leaving, at least it wasn’t because anyone was suspicious of him.

John then went on to explain that he’d dyed his beard because he thought it made him look younger and more handsome. He thought that dying hi beard would help him get a girlfriend. But he didn’t have enough time to keep up with it and his job. He’d never thought anybody noticed, until recently.

“Humans can be really pathetic.” The voice said.

“Yeah.” John replied. He turned to continue walking back towards the forest.

“Hey! That guy just put this down here!” Another man shouted. In his hand, he held the silver helmet.

“Fuck! Do it now! Do it!” Chris shouted at Adebayo.

“Activate sonic-” The radio dropped from her hands into the leaves.

“What the fuck?” Chris shouted at her.

The butterflies all ran to John, screeching. He tried to outrun them, but was quickly stopped.

“How’d that even happen?!”

“My hands are sweaty!” Adebayo replied, frantically searching for the radio.

Adebayo managed to find the radio, just as John was pulled to the ground. They were delivering punch after punch on him.

“Activate sonic boom.”

The front of the barn exploded; pieces of wood flew in every direction. The butterflies pulled their attention away from John to look back at the barn. They all got up, and ran back to it. John scrambled to get up, and ran back to the forest.

Adebayo waited until most of the butterflies were in the barn, before giving the second command.

“Activate sonic boom.”

The butterflies were shot back in different directions.

“Activate sonic boom.”

The barn looked like it was almost completely destroyed, but there was no telling what the underground layer looked like.

You, Adrian, Chris, and Harcourt all gathered your weapons. You and Harcourt had bulletproof vests to wear, however neither of the boys did. You couldn’t lie, that made you nervous.

“Activate sonic boom.”

“Yep, that’s it for the charges.” Chris said.

Adrian pulled his mask back on, then checked his guns. You grabbed yours, making sure you had enough bullets to last at least a little while.

“Look, I can help.” Adebayo told you all.

“We need you to stay here Ads. If something happens to us, you’re the only hope.” Harcourt told her.

John peeked out from behind a tree, an offended look on his face. “The fuck am I?”

“What’s the plan man?” Adrian asked, cocking his gun.

“Let’s go kill a cow.” Chris said.

The four of you walked out of the forest, into the clearing. The butterflies caught sight of you quickly, screeching. You all fired shot after shot at them. Pushing them further back was easy enough, before your first gun ran out of bullets. Your second was useless not too soon after.

You pulled your knives out, and started slashing at anyone who tried to come near you. You looked over to see Adrian take down three butterflies with his sword.

“Bet you’re glad you kept it, right?” You shouted out to him.

You couldn’t wait and listen for a response because more butterflies approached you. You swung your knives left and right. You tackled some of them to the ground, before slamming your knives down into their heads.

“Chris! Go kill the cow! We’ll hold them off here!” You heard Harcourt shout to Chris.

You were fighting with all your energy, when you suddenly felt yourself get pushed back by something. You felt your airway get tighter; it was harder to breathe. You could feel something trying to crawl down your throat. A butterfly must’ve gotten to you. You raised your hands to your throat, gasping for air.

Adrian appeared above you. He grabbed the tail end of the butterfly, and pulled it out of you, throwing it to the ground. He raised his gun, and shot it, yelling “Don’t fuck with my person!”

You were his person? That was really sweet. You made a mental note to talk to him about that later.

You honestly thought that everything would be okay. You’d taken out most of the butterflies. You a little glimmer of hope in you. You turned to see Adrian, taking down one last butterfly, then you heard a shot.

Your eyes widened as you realized what happened. You dashed over to him, catching him before he fell.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.” Were you telling him, or convincing yourself? Then you felt something sharp in your side.

A butterfly had used Adrian’s sword to pierce through your side. You felt drowsy almost immediately. Adrian’s body fell to the ground, as you didn’t have the strength to hold him anymore. Your vision became blurry, then all you saw was darkness. Your body collapsed, almost on top of Adrian’s.

If someone were looking at these events like a story, they might think of it as romantic. A Romeo and Juliet scenario, where we all knew our two lovers were fated to have short lives, dying in each other’s arms.

Harcourt looked over at the two of you, a look of horror on her face. She was the only one left. She tried shooting the remaining butterflies, but there were more of them then there were of her.

She was taken down quickly, blood leaving her mouth, her skin paling.

*time skip*

Adrian woke up with a pressure on his left arm. He sat up, then turned to see you. You were laying there, unconscious, your skin void of any warmth. That’s when he spotted the puddle of blood next to you.

“No no no no no.” He said to himself. He tried to think of a way he could stop the bleeding. You were supposed to put pressure on wounds, but his armor made it difficult to tear any fabric away.

“Hey guys! I need some help!” He called out, hoping anyone would hear him.

Adebayo ran to him, and when she saw you, she had to take a step back, hand over her mouth in shock.

“Adrian…”

“Give me your jacket, I’m gonna use it to stop the bleeding.” He didn’t take his eyes off of you. He held his hand out, waiting for Adebayo to give him her coat.

She gulped. “Adrian, they’ve lost a lot of blood…”

“No!” Adrian shouted. His breathing started to quicken. “No. They’re fine. They just need help. I can help them.” He said. Because Adrian needed you to be okay. He needed you to wake up, and smile at him again. He refused to lose you so soon.

Adebayo handed him her jacket, he took it, and wrapped it around you, tying it tight. He struggled to stand up on his own. He picked you up in his arms, but stumbled a bit. Oh yeah, he was shot. He was so worried about you that he forgot.

“Economos!” Adebayo shouted.

John walked over the group, a dark look on his face. Had they lost not one, not two, but three team members on this mission?

He held his arms out, waiting for Adrian to hand you to him. There was no way Adrian was going to be able to carry you all the way back to the van.

Adrian was hesitant in giving you to John. He didn’t want to let go of you. When John finally convinced him to hand you over, Adebayo stepped forward.

She held Adrian’s sword in her hands. The blade was covered in sticky, red blood. Adrian felt sick to his stomach. Someone had used his sword on you.

He couldn’t take the weapon. Just looking at it made him want to throw up.

“Leave it.” He grunted out, then followed John back to the van.

Back in the van, John placed you next to Adrian. Your head rested on his shoulder. He could hear little breaths escape your mouth, telling him you were still alive.

Once at the hospital, John carried you, while Chris carried Harcourt inside. The nurses quickly took the two of you away to the doctors.

Adrian sighed as he watched them take you away.

“Dude, you’re shot. You gotta be admitted.” Chris told him.

“I’m fine, seriously. All I need is a good nap.” He said, a hand pressed to his side.

“Think of how pissed Y/n’s gonna be when they wake up and find out you let yourself bleed out.” Adebayo told him.

He sighed. “Fine.” The nurses took him back as well.

You woke up not too long after the doctors had taken you in. They stitched you up, and gave you the blood you needed.

You looked around your room, and saw Adrian sitting in the chair next to your bed. He was also in a hospital gown. A thin tube was attached to his arm, the other end to pouches of blood. He’d lost some too after being shot.

He was snoring softly. His head was leaned against the edge of your bed. His glasses were on the tip of his nose. His curls stuck out every which way.

You nudged him a little. “Adrian?” You sounded hoarse.

His eyes fluttered open. He looked at you, and a large grin broke out on his face. He immediately went to hug you. You hissed at the pain on your side, causing him to pull away quickly.

“I’m so sorry!” He said, holding his hands up.

“Come here, you just need to be careful.” You scooted over, giving him room to lay on the hospital bed next to you.

He laid down, and wrapped his arms around you.

“Are you okay?” You asked him.

He looked at you like you were crazy. “Am I okay? I’m fine! Are you okay?” He eyes searched yours.

“I’m fine.” You told him.

Again, he looked unconvinced. “I thought you were dead.” He told you.

You moved so that you were facing him now.

“Yeah, I thought you were gone. And right after everything was okay between us. I thought it was the world playing some sick, cruel joke on me.” He snorted.

You could tell he was hiding his emotions. His eyes were red, and he refused to make eye contact with you.

“I’m gonna kill the fucker that did this to you.”

“Well, I hope we were successful in killing the cow, and if we were that means that they should die soon anyways.”

He confirmed that the cow was in fact dead.

“So, what’s happened since I’ve been out?” You asked him. You took his hand and played with his fingers.

“Well everyone’s pretty okay. Harcourt woke up. Oh, we thought she was dead too. Adebayo went to the news to talk about Project Butterfly and her mom.”

“Oh. Wow.” You sighed.

“What?”

“It’s just, if Waller is exposed, what am I supposed to do? Don’t get me wrong, what she did was awful, but now… Now where do I go?” You asked yourself.

“Well, you could hang around Evergreen. Stay to make sure Harcourt is okay at least. Keep me and Peacemaker out of trouble? And if you need somewhere to stay, you could always stay with me.” He suggested, a blush on his cheeks.

You’d never had a family before Task Force X, and you’d never had a home before Adrian. Maybe things were starting to look up for you.

#adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #vigilante #peacemaker vigilante

337 notes · View notes

lilyfreshwater · 3 years ago

Note

This is so funny because Ranboo didn't realize it's Tubbo chat and later panicked and went "omg what am I doing here I swear it was my chat, chatterino betrayed me". Get a grip man.

ranboo: omg guys wait this ISNT my chat????? hahahahahshdhiaahhshdbw omg what a coincidence. guys, guys please, come on i thought i was with the boobers! still, you guys like me, right? number one tubbling right here! i'm chill, cmon, would tubbo really treat me like this if he were here?

then tubbo enters chat and proceeds to call him a bunch of slurs

#ask

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eggsyunwincankillme · 7 years ago

Text

No One Knows Part 2

Pairing: Eggsy x Reader

Warning: Swearing, sexual themes

A/N: So part two ended up being split in half because it got way too long. Plus, this is going to be a 10 part story so... gotta make the chapters last

Masterlist

Prologue

Part 1

It was almost time for her to go to work and Eggsy hadn’t ever actually left her apartment. He had left briefly only to go get changed, but then when he came back, he had a ton of shopping bags with him filled with food that she couldn’t afford. He was in a hoodie and a polo shirt with jeans on. Just like the last time she had seen him.

Y/N had scolded him for just up and buying things for her, saying she couldn’t pay him back, but he waved her off and helped her put everything away. He had seemed thoroughly disappointed when he opened her fridge. Bean seemed to be attached to her ex’s legs, but Eggsy didn’t seem to mind.

Y/N gave him strict instructions on what to do with her child until he had to stop her. He simply smiled at her with that reassuring look that made her want to slap him for making her heart pound. Eggsy eventually got her to leave and as she made her way out to the street, she knew that she could trust Eggsy with her child. The man loved children, was great with them. With a deep breath, she went to work like she always did.

~*~*~*

Eggsy watched out the window as Y/N walked down to the street and got in a cab. Once she was out of sight, he looked down to see Bean doing the exact same thing as him. Watching his mum leave for work with big hazel eyes. The agent bent down to look Bean in the eyes.

“It’s just you and me now. Your mum gave me a lot of rules, but I honestly don’t remember all of them. Do you?” Eggsy asked. Bean shrugged, looking over the man in front of him.

“Mum usually likes when I sleep at 8:30… but you said we could be tubble.” Eggsy grinned at the little boy before just picking him up and walking into the small living room in the apartment. Bean held onto him while he walked.

“How about pizza for dinner? Does your mum let you eat pizza?” he asked.

“Okay,” Bean said. After making a call to the old pizza parlor he used to take Y/N to, he set Bean on the couch and put on a kids’ show. Bean didn’t seem to interested in it though so Eggsy changed the channel to a movie that technically might not be something a child should watch, but Bean didn’t pay attention to that either. Eggsy waited until the pizza got to the apartment and they ate that he decided to try to engage the smaller boy.

“Hey, Bean?” he called from the kitchen. Bean slid off the couch and peeked his head around the corner to look at his new babysitter.

“Hi, Eggsy,” Bean responded, looking up at him curiously.

“How about we play a game, yeah?” Eggsy offered, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Like what?”

“Like… hide and seek,” Eggsy responded. Bean moved further into the kitchen.

“Okay. Mummy’s room is off lemons though,” the little boy said, grabbing Eggsy’s hand.

“That’s fine. But I have to tell you. I am a seeking expert,” Eggsy gloated, leaning down to pick up the child. Bean leaned his head on Eggsy’s shoulder comfortably as they moved into the kid’s room.

“I’m a hiding esspert.”

“Then it’s a challenge then,” Eggsy declared, setting the child on the bed and moving to a corner in the room. “I’m going to count to 100 okay? You go hide.”

“Okay.” Eggsy faced the corner and put his hands over his eyes. He started to count at a even pace, listening as Bean got off the bed and left the room all together. From the numbers of sixty to a hundred, the house was utterly quiet. Eggsy pulled his hands from his eyes once he hit a hundred and looked around.

“Ready or not, Bean!” He called as he moved about the room, looking for the small child. He moved into the living room once he didn’t find the kid in his room. It took a little bit, but eventually he found Bean hiding behind some pans under the sink in the kitchen. Eggsy helped the child out of the hiding spot before they continued on, hiding and seeking until it was Bean’s bed time. The boy didn’t fight it, but he did request that Eggsy give him a bath.

Of course once that was done, Eggsy tucked Bean into bed and told him a story of the Kingsman that he didn’t… exactly make up. Once the kid was sleeping, Eggsy plopped himself on the couch and took a short nap while he waited for Y/N to get home from work.

~*~*~*

Y/N trudged home after getting out of work, her heels in her hands like normal with the clothes she left her home in her bag that held her normal work attire in it. She quietly entered her apartment, trying not to wake Eggsy and Bean who were more likely in deep sleep. Immediately she smelled the pizza and went to the kitchen to put her things on the kitchen table. She flicked on the light over the stove as she looked in the fridge before taking off her jacket and the fluffy leg warmers that covered her calves, throwing them on one of the chairs.

Clad in only the weird push up bra and the tiniest short shorts in existence, Y/N turned around to go into the fridge and nearly screamed at seeing Eggsy standing by the fridge, looking at her confused, but awake. His eyes traveled over her appearance before his hazel eyes locked back on her face. Her smoky makeup and her little clothing. Her very flushed face at seeing him awake and looking at her.

“Y/N… where do you work?” he asked, tone the most serious she had ever heard from him. She looked away, searching for a way out of this conversation and a way to get him to leave her house all at the same time.

“Eggsy, it’s late. What are you still doing up?” She diverted, moving around him to grab her jacket. A hand wrapped around her wrist gently and pulled her to a stop.

“Where do you work?” he asked again, a little more firmly. Y/N sighed, feeling ashamed to be standing in front of the father of her child, who had no idea he was the father of her child, dressed still in her outfit from work after she hadn’t seen him in five years. She grimaced at her thought process.

“I work… at a gentleman’s club about twenty minutes away…” She whispered, not wanting to admit it. “I waitress. But I still have to keep dress code.”

Eggsy stared at her with an open mouth. She stared back, confused before she frowned at him.

“You can’t seriously think less of me for trying to give my son the best I can. If that means working at a gentleman’s club than so be it. But you, Gary Unwin, are not allowed to fucking judge me.” Y/N panted in the effort not to scream at him, but Eggsy slowly moved towards her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest tightly. She tensed in his arms before she relaxed against him.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t think less of you, love and I would never judge you. I just… I feel like this is all my fault.” She pulled away to look at him before she shook her head.

“No, it’s not your fault, Eggsy. Let me go get changed. Maybe we can watch a movie?” she offered him a smile. He nodded and let go of her. Y/N grabbed all her stuff and moved to her room. She changed into her pajamas before going back out to sit in the living room with Eggsy on the other side of the only couch she owned.

They kept the tv on low while they quietly conversed. She learned a lot of what happened to him in the past five years. Of how he met a man named Harry who inherited a tailor shop and hired him. How he met Roxy and became good friends with her while they worked together (boy did she feel stupid about that). How they had a really cool manager named Merlin who was as dorky as he was cool. She also heard a lot of his new girlfriend, Tilde. She nodded along, less worried about him moving on and more that the name sound vaguely familiar.

Eggsy also learned of the bouncer that would walk her to the bus stop and hail her a cab home every night. He learned about all the disturbances that they had from their shitty patrons. How many times she got groped. How many of the actual dancers were parents just trying to make ends meet. He learned that Y/N often only got a couple hours of sleep a night so she could walk her son to school and be awake when he got home.

“So, why Bean?” he eventually asked.

“He was very small and chubby as a baby.”

“Is that what’s on his birth certificate? Cause that’s just cruel of you,” Eggsy tsked, cheeky grin on his face.

“No, Eggsy. God, his name is Gary.”

“That’s even crueler. Why the fuck did you name him that?” Eggsy grimaced. Y/N panicked slightly, not entirely sure how to answer.

“Uh… his father.”

“The prick just gave him the shittiest name in existence and then left? What the fuck kind of man did you left knock you up?” He teased. Y/N reached over and hit his arm in retaliation. They grinned at each other for a little while.

“I can’t believe you’re here. Thank you for watching him. Did you both get into trouble?” she asked, leaning on the arm of the couch they were on.

“Not really. He’s a good kid,” Eggsy paused a moment. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it was hard. You left and I had no idea where you went or if you were even still in London. I haven’t even seen your mum around,” she said, looking at him.

“Yeah, once I could afford it, I got her away from Dean. She lives up near the tailor’s that I work at now,” he said, stretching out his legs.

“I’m glad your life turned around, Eggsy.”

“I don’t know if I should say the same. You work at a fucking strip club,” Eggsy replied. She rolled her eyes at him.

“Yeah, but it pays well and I can afford to send Bean to a good school,” she said. Eggsy watched her silently for a little while as she turned her attention back to the movie they were watching. He didn’t seem to be inclined to talk, just to watch the movie quietly with her now. After about twenty minutes, she started to drift off. She only woke up when Eggsy shook her awake.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” He muttered as he helped her up and walked her to her room. He gently tucked her in before going to the couch and laying down on it. He crossed his arms as his thoughts raced. Eventually, even he fell asleep again on her couch in her apartment.

~*~*~*

Y/N had woken up the next morning to find Eggsy gone with a note that said he had turned off her alarm since Bean didn’t have school. Bean was sitting in front of the TV with a sandwich, that he had said Eggsy made him before the man left. Eggsy had also left his new phone number and then another number with a phase that she should say in case she was ever in trouble. She kept the note in her purse just in case.

A couple weeks passed until she saw Roxy one day while she was out with her mother and Bean. Roxy looked over to see Y/N walking and called out to her. She wasn’t in a pressed suit like the last time she saw her, but she wasn’t dressed casually either.

“Y/N!”

“Roxy?” Y/N called, confused at seeing the woman so casual.

“I’m so glad I found you. I wanted to maybe get some lunch with you,” Roxy asked, eyebrows raising in hope. She wasn’t wearing the glasses she had been when Y/N first met her. Did she also not need them? Was it required to wear glasses at the tailor’s shop?

“I… Mum, do you mind watching Bean for a couple hours?” Y/N asked, turning to her mother and her son. Bean waved at Roxy shyly and the woman returned it with a smile.

“Sure, honey. Go have fun!” Her mother smiled at the two ladies. Bean ran to hug his mum when she bent down to give him kisses. Once they were out of sight, Roxy lead the way towards a nice looking breakfast cafe that Y/N felt she had no right to be in. She was wearing a normal t shirt and a pair of patterned leggings. Roxy didn’t seem to care though as they picked a seat and ordered some coffee to start.

“So, how have you been?” Roxy asked, looking up from her menu.

“I’ve been okay. Days seem to go by faster than normal.”

“Well since we’re both here and Eggsy isn’t, I guess I can just come out and say it,” Roxy took a deep breath. “Bean is Eggsy’s son, isn’t he?” She asked. Y/N choked, cough quietly into her hand. She looked at Roxy with surprise.

“Uh… yes… he’s…”

“They look similar. Though, Bean has your nose,” she said, looking completely unfazed.

“You didn’t… tell him did you?” Y/N asked, shifting nervously in her seat.

“No, but he did tell me Bean’s birth name is Gary. Which should have been a dead give away for him, but he’s a little dense.” Roxy was smiling gently at her, ordering what she wanted to eat when the waitress walked up.

Y/N quietly ordered something cheap, not even bothering to check what it was. Roxy watched her for a moment before looking at the menu to see what she was ordering. Then she looked up before the waitress left and ordered more food. Y/N watched with a surprised look on her face.

“You don’t have to choose the least expensive thing on here. It’s my treat.”

“What? No, I couldn’t do that to you.”

“My choice. I’m paying for your lunch,” Roxy smiled, leaning on her elbows with her tea in her hands. Y/N quietly thanked her. They then went on to talk about Eggsy and Bean and then how everything had happened before she found out that she was pregnant. Roxy looked a bit upset when she told her that Eggsy hadn’t ever come back to her, despite her being in the same apartment complex.

“I’m going to kick his ass, I swear,” Roxy hissed after they finished their lunch.

“Please, don’t. It’s weird already now that he’s back, but if I keep this from him, how badly do you think he’ll react?” she asked as they got their things together.

“I think… he’d probably be pissed for not knowing, that he’d eventually get over it and that he will probably want to spend more time with him,” Roxy said after some thought. Y/N smiled, shaking her head. She still didn’t want to tell him. Mainly because she wasn’t sure how long he would be in her life this time.

“I don’t know if I should tell him,” Y/N admitted as they walked out of the cafe after paying.

“I think he should know, but ultimately it’s your choice,” Roxy replied. They decided to drop the subject then. The woman walked her home, talking about everything, but telling Eggsy that he was the father. They separated with a quick hug and she went home to spend more time with her son.

#eggsy unwin x reader #eggsy unwin #eggsy x reader #kingsman #eggsy unwin imagine #my writing #drabble

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mariequitecontrarie · 8 years ago

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All of Me: Chapter 12

The Fic: Belle French is a pudgy librarian who’s in love from afar with “town monster” and ace reporter, Mr. Gold. Little does she know, he’s head-over-heels in love with her, too. Chapter Summary: Belle and Gold are still sitting in Marco’s kitchen, and Gold reminds Belle of the day they met. Thank You: Amazing beta: @magnoliatattoo Italian master: @sarashouldbestudying Artwork: @wizzygold A/N: THANK YOU for voting All of Me Best Rumbelle Fic and Best Trend in The TEAs!

Stay with Me (between Ch 9 and 10)

{On AO3} {On FF}

It is an absolute human certainty that no one can know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being. – John Joseph Powell

Marco’s Cucina, Present Day Gold broke the kiss, and Belle’s nose grazed his bottom lip as she lowered her head to rest on his shoulder. She sighed aloud, her warm breath fanning the side of his neck and he gave an involuntary shiver of happiness.

The clang of pots and pans alerted him that he was kissing his girlfriend in the back corner of a hectic restaurant kitchen, and that Marco and his staff were gawking at them snuggled together in this oversized booth. He didn’t care. All that mattered in this moment was Belle.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled lazily, and he cupped her cheek with his hand. Her eyes were unfocused, pupils blown wide with passion. Her hands were clasped around his neck, the pleasing weight of her soft arms across his shoulders, her breath ragged and sweet against his face.

“Sweetheart, do you remember the day we met?” he asked.

“Nope. Can’t think…a little dizzy.”

Gold snickered around a surge of masculine pride. What a treasure she was! Had he ever met a woman so guileless? No, the women of his acquaintance through the years had been artificial and interested in him for the publicity they could earn for their business ventures and personal causes. He was full of love, but who beyond his family had ever looked past his small stature, his limp, and his notoriety as a reporter to see his heart? Only Belle. She was as undone by their kisses as he was. Elated as he was to have this effect on the woman he cared for, his heart broke at how grateful she was for the smallest expressions of affection.

Her hazy eyes cleared, sharpening and focusing on him once more, but now sadness was reflected in those sea-blue pools. Sadness caused by nosy townspeople who needed to be tripped by a cane, he thought ruefully. He kept his hand on her face, caressing her jawline with his thumb. He longed to chase those shadows away.

“Seriously,” he prompted, eager to distract her from the two days of gossip and insults she’d endured for his sake. “The day we met.”

“Seriously?” She chewed her lip. “Yes, I think I remember. It was in the library, right?”

Gold frowned; it stung a bit that she didn’t share the same vivid memory of their first meeting. Perhaps those initial moments between them didn’t make the same impression on her as they had on him?

Oh well. In for a penny, as it were. “May I tell you how I remember it?”

She tilted her head and smiled. “I would like that very much.”

Gold cleared his throat. “Henry had just turned two years old, and Emma suggested I bring him your story time…”

Three Years Earlier

After a year of careful avoidance, Gold had a reason to visit the library.

He gave his shoulder length brown hair a self-conscious pat and hoisted Henry higher on his hip as he strode through the library in search of the restroom. Storybrooke Library’s weekly story hour for toddlers was scheduled to begin in fifteen minutes, and young Henry needed a quick diaper change before settling in with the other children.

As he reached the back wall of the building, Gold overheard voices. He grit his teeth; Sean Herman, Belle French’s fiancé, was in her office and the two were discussing something in hushed, urgent tones. Gold lingered near the door with the ready excuse that he wanted to introduce Belle to Henry, attempting his best expression of nonchalance. Herman leaned in close to kiss Belle’s cheek, and he felt a stab of jealousy toward the overgrown toddler who had won the heart of this lovely, vivacious woman. He couldn’t place what it was that irked him about Herman. Gold only knew that when her fiancé was present, Belle’s smile never quite reached her eyes.

Belle had recently won the position of head librarian, replacing Mrs. Schmidt when she’d retired to care for her grandchildren. He had seen Belle in passing many times—on the street, in the drugstore, at the supermarket—but had never actually spoken to her. It was better this way, he told himself. Belle was engaged to another man and that meant she was off-limits.

The first time he’d seen her had been a year earlier. Belle was squatting on the floor of the library knocking over block towers with a gaggle of children who laughed uproariously at every move she made. On his way to the paper, he walked by the large front window and she looked up as he passed, her countenance sparkling with mirth, reddish brown curls falling in a fiery halo around her flushed face. Their gazes met, and he died and was reborn in her laughing eyes. Good Lord, she was a vision! It was far more than her beauty that captivated him, though. This young woman had a lively spirit and a generous heart—he could tell by the humble ease with which she played with the children. Too stunned to do anything more than hurry by, he raced toward his office, determined to learn her name.

Arriving back at his desk, Gold ruffled through the stacks of press releases and notices from the town’s administrative offices, hoping to find anything that mentioned a new hire at the Storybrooke Public Library. Finding nothing, he slumped in his chair, an uncharacteristic feeling of defeat churning in his gut. Think, old man. Gold had little use for his investigative reporting skills now that he was at home in Storybrooke and running the town ledger, but his curious attraction to the woman in the window reignited those embers long since cooled.

Ah! Inspiration struck, and after half an hour of combing through the Town Council minutes which the mayor so diligently provided after each meeting, the passage he had been seeking was there, smudged in black ink:

“The motion passes, Belle French will fill the role of Assistant Library Director effective the first of next month at a salary of {redacted}.”

Belle French. Beautiful, smart, sweet Belle.

Gold raked his fingers through his hair nervously, like a child who had learned a secret he couldn’t keep. Now what?

After that he looked for her around town, listening for her name to come up in conversation, anxious for another glimpse into those fathomless blue eyes. A week later, he was at Granny’s Diner finishing a turkey club sandwich while he worked up the courage to go inside the library to meet her. He tapped his foot impatiently at the cash register. Waiting for waitress Ruby Lucas to stop flirting with town shrink Archie Hopper so he could pay the bill was like waiting for the sky to fall. When he was about to tell Ruby to send the tab to the paper he overheard someone say:

“Wow. Belle French accepted Sean Herman’s marriage proposal?”

Gold sucked in a breath, feeling like he’d been punched. Belle was engaged? It figured—the first woman he’d met in twenty-odd years that piqued his interest and she was taken. Then and there he vowed not to visit the library at all for any reason. Why torture himself by skulking around a woman he could never have? He had his pride; he didn’t need to borrow a book that badly!

And that’s how it came to be that Gold hadn’t darkened the door of Storybrooke Community Library since Belle French had come to work there. Now, however, there was young Henry to think of—no child should be deprived of story time at the library. Emma had suggested that library visits with Henry would be good bonding, and Gold agreed. And if he could gawk at Belle French in the process, who was he to argue? He was doing his grandfatherly duty, Gold reasoned, as he tossed the old diaper, washed his and Henry’s hands, and exited the bathroom.

They edged by Belle’s office door again and he couldn’t resist another peek inside. Herman was still there, hands on his designer-denim clad hips, and Belle’s cheekbones were bright with color. Gold caught her gaze and held it for a long moment. He didn’t know her at all, but those eyes were an open book if you cared to study the language. He read uncertainty there, and fear. He was almost certain Herman was responsible, and Gold’s anger swelled like a rising tide in a hurricane.

“Book! Book! Book!” Henry bellowed, jabbing his little fingers at the shelves teeming with colorful children’s books.

“Shhh! Henry.” Gold held a finger to his lips and scooped up the toddler. Stealth was impossible when Henry was present. “We must be quiet in the library. You’ll get Grandpa in trouble if you keep yelling.”

The boy grinned broadly, his chubby cheeks rosy with the excitement of a new adventure. “Gampa tubble.”

Herman slid through Belle’s office door, darting a curious glance at Henry. Like a snake. Gold scowled darkly, white-knuckling the head of his cane. He may be holding a toddler in his arms and have a diaper bag slung over one shoulder and be half in love with an engaged woman he had never spoken to, but he was still a man to be respected and feared. Yes, he would be watching Sean Herman.

“Can I help you?” A soft voice beckoned, calling him away from staring down Herman’s retreating back.

He spun around, coming face to face with Belle French. “Ah, yes, um, I am Mr. Gold,” he said shakily, feeling his cheeks redden.

She rose from her desk, smoothing her hands over a simple navy sheath dress that accentuated her eyes. They sparkled with curiosity as she moved toward him with an outstretched hand.

“I’m Belle French,” she offered. “Welcome to my library.” A smile that could eclipse the sun stretched across her perfect face.

Gold stared at her hand as it hung in the air, and he briefly considered whether to drop his cane or his grandson for the chance to feel her skin against his. Belle dropped her hand, apparently realizing the awkwardness of a handshake with a man who most certainly had his full.

“Oh, sorry!” Belle giggled, and Gold almost gasped aloud; a sweeter sound he had never heard. “And who is this?” She reached out and tugged at Henry’s tiny sneaker where it dangled around Gold’s hip, pulling a chortle from the young boy.

“This is Henry Cassidy, my grandson,” he said proudly.

“Lovely to meet you, Henry.”

Henry reached into his pocket and offered Belle a handful of shredded pieces of The Storybrooke Mirror. “Money!” He grinned at Belle who beamed right back.

“Thank you very much,” she said, accepting the sticky wad of crumpled paper. “What shall we buy?”

“Oh, Henry, no, son,” Gold interrupted with an anxious glance at Belle. “That’s newspaper, not money. My apologies, Miss French.”

“That’s all right. Henry has a wonderful imagination,” Belle complimented as Gold set Henry on the floor. Belle squatted down so she was eye-to-eye with his grandson. “Henry, are you ready to listen to Miss Belle read some special books just for you?”

“Book!” Henry shouted again.

Still Three Years Earlier

Belle made her way to the corner rocking chair on wooden legs and plopped down heavily, anxious to begin the story hour. She’d barely made it through that encounter without fainting. Mr. Gold? Here at Storybrooke Community Library? And he’d been hovering in her office doorway while she’d been arguing with Sean.

Nerves coiled in her belly like a snake. Mr. Gold didn’t think much of her library, for why else would he so studiously avoid it? Didn’t everyone like books? Or perhaps this small town library didn’t meet his Pulitzer-Prize-winning approval.

Belle sniffed and pressed her lips together. No doubt Gold possessed both the knowledge and the wealth to stock a home library grander than this old place with its leaking walls and meagre collection. However, he had brought his young grandson Henry in, so that was a point in her favor. Most children loved her story hour and their parents always praised her reading. After each story time, Belle would mingle with the moms and dads as they gathered their children and all the stuff children seemed to travel with. She loved these casual exchanges, relishing the opportunity to learn bits and pieces about her patrons; who worked where and who belonged to whom. The library was the only place in the world that she truly felt at home.

But what were her storytelling abilities compared to Mr. Gold’s? Mr. Gold, who had earned a reputation as a world-famous reporter. Mr. Gold, who spoke in a beautiful, hypnotic brogue. Perhaps she should invite Mr. Gold to take over and she could head back to her office and crawl under the desk for a marathon powdered doughnut eating session.

To her knowledge, Gold had not come into the library since she’d worked here. Unless he purposely visited on her days off. Of course! How could she forget? She was the reason he never came in.

It was here first week on the job; she was fresh out of college and thrilled to be hired as Mrs. Schmidt’s assistant. (So few graduates of Storybrooke College had the opportunity to use their degree locally, and besides, the less time she spent at home with Edith, the less miserable they all were.) She’d been razing block towers with some kids when Mr. Gold—the newspaperman—had strode by in one of his elegant bespoke suits. He glanced through the front window and their eyes had met. Through the glass, his deep caramel gaze scorched her skin, and she’d trembled deliciously under his perusal. But then he had frowned and hurried toward the newspaper. Yes, he’d taken one look at her and beat a quick path to his office door without so much as a backward glance.

Shaking the memory from her mind, Belle straightened her slumped shoulders; her sour disposition was threatening to spoil the day. If she wasn’t careful, the children would catch wind of her annoyance and ask questions. Perceptive creatures, toddlers were.

Her hands shook so hard that she dropped one of the books, its title blurring before her eyes. She smoothed her pudgy, damp fingers over her skirt and bent down to pick it up, feeling Mr. Gold’s gaze on her the entire time.

Curse him and those beautiful sable eyes. Most of the time she observed him from across the street or peered at him through a crowded restaurant thick with voices, but he was even more attractive up close. A firm mouth, soft brown hair streaked with grey curling over his collar in locks so thick she could lose her fingers in it, an aquiline nose…and those hands. Long, thin fingers that grasped his cane as he walked, that fiddled with Henry’s shoelaces as he placed his young grandson in the circle and instructed him to sit down begin the story. “Sit criss-cross applesauce, Henry,” she heard him say, his thick brogue melodious even in a whisper. A flush of awareness creeped up Belle’s chest.

It crossed her mind to regret her engagement to Sean, then she snorted aloud at her own absurdity. Like Sarah, Abraham’s wife in the Bible who was promised a child at one hundred years old, anything between her and Mr. Gold was impossible. As if such a distinguished man would ever look her way with anything more than casual disinterest!

You’re lucky to have Sean, Belle, she reminded herself in her sternest Edith-tone, pushing their fight about the bachelor party out of her head. Twenty-three bright little faces stared up at her, the children’s little limbs flailing as they squirmed on their carpet squares.

For goodness sake, Belle! Stop moping and read! She launched headlong into the first book, Hooray for Fish, its bold illustrations ideal for holding the attention of little ones. Belle only prayed they would hold hers as well.

“Miss Belle?” It was three-year-old Scarlett Jones, her dark pigtails swinging as she raised her hand.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

She pointed her finger at her tiny chest chest. “You forgot about names.”

“So I did,” Belle conceded with a nervous laugh. Usually she began story hour with a name game to relax the kids and prepare their minds. She glanced up at Mr. Gold, who leaned against the wall near the beanbag chairs. To her surprise, he gave her a smile and a nod of encouragement. Grateful tears sprang to her eyes and she took a deep breath and started again.

The rest of the hour progressed without incident, and after rounding out story hour with Breathe, Belle led the kids in some deep breathing exercises of their own, calming her own battered nerves.

Soon the children scattered to look for books and play with toys. As Belle checked out books and chatted with parents, she watched Gold and Henry out of the corner of her eye. Despite his reputation as a ruthless reporter, she marveled that anyone could find Gold severe or frightening in the slightest. He was sitting on the floor in his striped socks racing cars, making delightfully realistic “zoom zoom” noises. Henry’s dark eyes were bright with merriment as he watched his grandpa at play.

When the last of the parents and children left, Belle began to clean up. Squatting to gather the toys and crayons from the floor, she was startled when Mr. Gold bent down to hand her the plastic crayon box. Leaving Henry to smash a handful of toy cars together, he began to follow her around, picking up stray books off reading tables and handing them to her.

“You’re making my job easy today,” she said, glancing toward the book carts that were stationed around the library.

“I'm pretty sure that's the first time I've ever been accused of that, Miss French,” he said dryly.

Belle’s fingers shook as he handed her a book. Stop it, Belle, you’re a librarian. People hand you books every day. But none of them were the handsome, enigmatic Mr. Gold. Their fingers brushed and the contact seared her flesh, sending a current of electricity up her arm.

She returned to the circulation desk, her palms sweaty from the prolonged exposure to Mr. Gold. Now she understood, she could commiserate with the townspeople who feared him – minutes in his presence had left Belle trembling like a leaf in an autumn windstorm. But it was not fear, not even trepidation, that made her nerves twitch and her insides melt like butter. No, it was something altogether glorious—if not impossible and incomprehensible.

No one had ever made her feel this way, not even her own fiancé. She was confused yet grounded, and more alive than she had ever been in her whole life.

Work. Work would settle her anxieties. Belle moved behind the circulation counter to inventory returns, but when she looked up, Mr. Gold and Henry were approaching again. With a sheepish smile, Gold plopped a stack of books on the counter—as though he had stumbled upon some lost secret place that gave out books for free.

“Oh, this is a really good one!” Belle exclaimed as she scanned the barcodes into the computer. “It’s actually much better than his first book, although that’s the one that earns all the fanfare.” She smiled at Gold as she stamped the due date into the back of How to Stop Worrying and Start Living by Dale Carnegie.

“You know, they credit Carnegie with starting the entire self-help genre,” Belle rattled on, impervious to the serene, smiling stare on the face of her newest patron. Catching his eye, she grew quiet as she realized she was opining on his reading choices, a sworn sin of a good librarian. “You know, you can tell a lot about a person by the books they read,” she continued, unable to hide her enthusiasm for the written word.

“Is that so?” Gold asked quietly, as though the conversation was of great importance and not the result of her blathering. “I’d love to know what you think of me, then,” he challenged, his amber eyes glinting.

Belle’s mouth went dry; Was Mr. Gold flirting with her? “You are interested in improving your daily life in small ways,” she countered, “and you have a penchant for rotting meat.” She grinned as she scanned Green Eggs and Ham.

“Touché, Miss French.” A smirk played at the corner of his mouth.

“Please call me Belle,” she heard herself say.

“Belle,” he repeated in a husky voice that sent a shiver up her spine. “One last wandering book I found near the self-help section.” He tossed a thin volume on the circulation desk.

She eyed the title in horror: Farewell to Flab. He of all people didn’t need a diet book, and Belle would know. She had spent the last two hours ogling his trim physique. Belle yanked her cardigan more snugly around her middle. Had he spotted her secret stash of powdered doughnut holes and decided to send her a roundabout weight loss message?

Gold hiked an eyebrow and glared at the book. “Why would you carry this drivel in such a fine establishment of higher learning?” And with that he smiled, hefted Henry on his hip and kissed his nose, and bid her a wonderful day.

Belle stared after Gold in wonder as he strolled out of the library with a remarkable grace for a man carrying a toddler, a diaper bag, and a cane. Henry hollered goodbye over his shoulder and Belle smiled and waved at the adorable little boy with his grandpa’s eyes.

Once they were out of sight, she flopped down in her chair and sighed. He liked her library. Maybe he even liked her. Mr. Gold wasn’t who she thought he was at all, and she was glad.

Marco’s Cucina, Present Day

“Thank you for telling me all that.” She beamed at him, then her smile faltered. “It’s a wonderful memory, but is there a point to all this?”

He chuckled. “Well, I’m not sure. I was going for distraction.”

“I’m sorry,” she said on a sigh. “About the talk around town. Why would they need to talk about us anyway?”

Gold was puzzled. Belle seemed to believe it was somehow her fault that people were gossiping about them. He shrugged inwardly; rumors never troubled him. Speculation was a natural human consequence of not having enough facts to go on.

Belle didn’t see it that way, though. The gossip caused her pain, and whatever hurt her, hurt him.

Neal’s advice from the fishing expedition several weeks earlier returned like a boomerang, and for the first time, it occurred to Gold that Belle’s modesty perhaps wasn’t a quality to be prized. After years of traveling among egocentric people and being burned by Milah, who cared only about appearances, he’d become jaded and suspicious. For all these years, he had admired Belle from afar for being so much more than a beauty, so much more than a prize to be won. Now it dawned on him that what he perceived as modesty was a severe lack of confidence. His wonderful Belle saw herself as no one of importance, and the realization devastated him. She needed to know how deeply he cherished her, how she’d changed his life. Made him feel like a person of value in ways that all his awards, accomplishments, and accolades never could.

He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed each one. “That’s what I love about you, Belle. You don’t pretend to be someone you aren’t.”

She knitted her eyebrows together, waiting. A tangible energy crackled between them.

“Yes, I suppose there is a point to my story. The point is that I've been waiting for this—for us—ever since that day in the library. Since even before that day. It's a dream I never thought would come true, sweetheart. Belle, you have to know...I’m falling for you.”

“Wh-what?” Her voice shook and the hope that leapt into her eyes gave him courage to continue. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’m in love with you. Totally, irrevocably in love. I don't care what people say, I don't care what they think.” He grasped her hands to quell the shaking in his own. “All I care about is you.”

She said nothing and he forced himself to swallow, a wave of fear crashing through him even as his hands tightened around hers. Maybe she didn’t feel the same. Maybe he was rushing her. God above, she could destroy him with a word! He closed his eyes, tamping down on his fear. No, I love her. If she doesn’t feel the same way yet, so be it.

Belle swallowed hard, her tiny voice trembling in cadence with her lower lip. “You…you love me? Me? But…”

Gold raised a finger to her rosebud mouth, tender and swollen from his kiss.

“Shhh. You make me happy,” he repeated. “Forget the rest of the town. Let them talk, let them look.”

“It's not so easy for me to let them look,” she admitted, wiping a tear that leaked from the corner of her eye.

“Would it help if I threatened to beat people with my cane?”

She huffed a watery laugh. “Maybe a little.”

She moistened her dry lips with her tongue, the fleshy tip of it sweeping over her full, lower lip. Yes, they had been doing entirely too much talking, he thought, leaning forward as his lips sought hers. Pressing against her, he opened his mouth, taking her upper lip between his, suckling slightly, eliciting a small whimper from the back of Belle’s throat. He dipped down, lavishing the same treatment on her lower lip. Blood pounded in his ears and he felt as though he would explode; the hand that had been resting on her knee inched higher, his fingers squeezing into the soft flesh of her upper thigh. She was so soft, and warm, and her lips intoxicatingly sweet…

“Ok, piccioncini.” They pulled apart and looked at Marco. “I no like to interrupt your wooing, but dinner time is coming, va bene?” The chef waved his hand around the bustling kitchen. “You’re distracting my staff. You like a table?”

“Is that like, leave or get a room?” Belle snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. Gold bit back a laugh. He loved how confident she was among the few people she trusted.

“Use your imagination, Bella,” Marco replied, his eyes twinkling. He walked quickly back to the ovens and flung open the door to remove an enormous, covered baking pan.

“A man on a mission,” Gold observed with an apologetic smile. “I have to go anyway, sweetheart. It’s family game night. Henry’s choice, which means endless rounds of Candy Land and Chutes and Ladders.”

Belle laughed. “That sounds…spirited.”

“Why don’t you come with me? I could use a partner. I’m fine when we play Scrabble but I’m absolute bollocks at Charades. Neal and Emma will be there, of course, and they always welcome a chance to spend time with you.”

A soft pink rose on Belle’s cheeks. He smiled again, trying to encourage her. Belle still didn’t believe that people wanted to spend time with her, that she was worth the effort, but she would. Given enough time and love and care, she would.

“Between you as a writer and me as a librarian, we’d make a fantastic team,” she agreed, squeezing his forearm lightly. “Yes. Let’s go.”

###

#all of me #rumbelle #rumbelle fic #chubby belle #mqc writes #hope you all like the flashback

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theowritesstuff · 3 years ago

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Fooled Around and Fell in Love: Chapter 6

Adrian Chase x afab!gn!reader

Spoilers for Ep 6 of Peacemaker

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Summary: You, Adrian, and Chris are at Chris’ house when the cops show up.

Warnings: unaliving, knives, mentions of smut

Taglist: @caramelkatsukis-bitch @myguiltypleasures21 @thedamchii @flower-slut00 @leverage-ot3 @fanofverymanythings @tubble-wubble

Reader’s Pov

The next morning you woke up to a text from Chris.

Heyo I need a ride to a school. Told someone I’d do a presentation for the kids.

You shot him a text back.

Why not ask Adrian?

Chris’ response back was quick.

I don’t want him to drive me. He gets annoying sometimes.

You rolled your eyes.

Fine.

You quickly got up and got dressed. You grabbed a granola bar that Adebayo had given you, telling you that they were really good and something better to eat than nothing.

You walked out to the parking lot to get your car, and head over to Chris’ house to pick him up. He was waiting outside for you when you arrived. Eagly was standing at his feet.

You rolled your window down. “Absolutely not Chris. You are not bringing your eagle in my car.”

“C’mon dude, you love him! You rescued him for me that one time. Remember?” He pleaded.

“I do not love him. And I didn’t rescue him. I lured him into the car with trash. Plus, I don’t think they’ll allow you to bring an eagle into the classroom.” You said.

“Fine.” Chris grumbled, taking Eagly back inside the house.

He came back out, and got in the passenger side of your car.

“Adrian would’ve let me bring Eagly.” He mumbled to himself.

“Oh, then maybe we should give him a call. I’m sure he’d be happy to chauffer you around for the day.” You said, pulling out your phone.

Chris quickly snatched your phone from your hand. “No! It’s fine.”

You pulled out of Chris’ driveway and onto the road. He asked you where you kept your music, to which you replied with “my phone”. Apparently Chris didn’t know much about Bluetooth or Spotify. You told him how to find your music app, and that he could pick some music.

In no time he had found something he wanted to play, and the music started flowing from your speakers. He turned the volume dial up, so the music was blaring.

It didn’t take too long to get to the school. You parked the car, Chris grabbed his helmet from the backseat, and put it on.

“Who’s letting you talk to kids?” You ask him.

“Just this guy that I know. His daughter is in the class.”

“Okay then.” You sighed.

Chris moved to get out of the car, and looked back at you. “You coming?” He asked.

You laughed. “No, no way. Have fun. I’m probably gonna go get some coffee, so text me when you’re done.”

He gave you a wave, then made his way to the front door.

You pulled out of the school’s parking lot, and made your way to Fennel Fields. You tried to justify it in your head, telling yourself that you were just hungry, and that it had nothing to do with a certain busboy/crimefighter.

Once you got there, you parked your car, and went inside. You were quickly seated at a table. Your eyes scanned the restaurant for the familiar dark brown curls that you loved.

“Hey, what can I get you?” A voice asked. Standing at your table was a man with a notepad. His nametag read the name Taylor.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll just have a coffee.” You said, handing him the menu. He gave you a weird look.

“Are you one of Adrian’s friends?” He asked.

You felt your cheeks heat up. You really needed to stop coming here so often. “Yeah, I am. I’m Y/n.”

He laughed. “He talks about you a lot.” Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, he’ll find any way to bring your group up in a conversation.”

Oh. He doesn’t talk about you a lot. He talks about the team a lot.

“So, are you and Adrian, like, a thing?” He asked.

“What? No, no, we’re just friends.” You sputtered out.

Taylor smiled. “Okay, I’ll get that coffee order in for you.” He left you sitting there, alone in thought.

He brought you your coffee not too long after that, along with a napkin. On the napkin, written in black marker was a phone number with a note.

Give me a call sometime

He was flirting with you. You chugged your coffee, shoved the napkin in your pocket, then slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the table, and practically ran out of the restaurant.

You sped back to the school, as if Taylor was somehow following you in another car.

Chris texted you once you got there. You texted him back, telling him you were in the parking lot.

He walked outside and sat in the passenger seat.

“Hey, what’s up? You look tense.” He said.

“No I don’t! I’m fine!” You said, your hands gripping the steering wheel as you left, and drove back to Chris’ house.

Chris invited you in, and since it was a day off, you decided to join him. You walked into his house, and were instantly greeted by Eagly.

He flew up at you and pecked at your arm.

“Ow! What the hell? Stop!” You tried to swat the bird away.

“So, how was the coffee shop?” Chris asked you from his kitchen. He was mixing an egg and some spices in a glass.

“It was fine, why?” You asked suspiciously.

“It had to have been good if someone gave you their number.” He held his hand up, and sitting between his fingers was the napkin.

“How did you get that?” You exclaimed, reaching out to snatch it from him.

“It fell out of your pocket and I picked it up. So, who’s the lucky person?” He asked, his eyebrows raised.

“No one.” You told him.

“Because you’re still in love with Adrian?” He asked.

“I’m not in love with Adrian! We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, okay, sure.” He sounded unconvinced. He chugged the mixture in the glass before placing it in the sink.

Your face scrunched up in disgust. “How can you drink that?”

“It’s what I drink everyday.” He shrugged. He went back to his room, and came back out with the glass jar that held Goff inside of it.

You groaned. “I forgot you still had that.”

“Of course I still have it, what the hell was I gonna do? Let it go?” He looked at you incredulously. He pulled a jar of the gold goo out of his fridge and poured it over the cap of the jar containing Goff.

Five knocks were heard from the outside of the house. Chris sighed.

“Come in Adrian!” He shouted.

The door opened, and revealed Adrian in his suit. “How did you know it was me?” He asked.

“You knock in a very annoying way.” Chris deadpanned.

“Oh. Sorry.” He said. He turned to see you sitting on Chris’ couch. “Hey Y/n.” He gave you a wave. He looked at the jar sitting on the table and furrowed his brows. “Dude, you still have that thing?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged.

“He tried to kill us, and he cut off half my toe.” Adrian said, offended. Yeah, you knew that Adrian wasn’t ever going to let that go.

“Yeah. Sometimes I just think I’m insecure in my masculinity so I’m making up for it by having a dangerous pet. You know, like one of those knuckle-dicks in Georgia with a tiger on a leash.” It seemed like Chris was actually willing to open up to the two of you.

“Dude, my advice? Cut it out with the introspection. The mind is a den of scorpions better left running from, not towards.”

You sat there in silence. Never had you seen Chris open up like that, and never had you heard Adrian speak so eloquently. You heard Goff start to squeak from inside the jar.

“What’s he doing?” You asked as you stood up, and walked over to the jar.

The butterfly dipped one of it’s legs in the leftover goo that sat at the bottom of the jar. He outlined a circle, then three lines in the circle, creating a peace sign.

“Um, guys.” You called.

Chris grabbed the jar, and held it up to the light. Clear as day, there was a peace sign in the jar.

The three of you moved to sit, squished together, on Chris’ couch. Chris sat on your left, and Adrian on your right.

“Okay, Goff. One tap is yes. Two taps is no. Do you understand?” Chris asked slowly.

Goff responded with one tap on the jar.

“Okay, Goff, is that a peace sign?”

Another tap.

Adrian sat up in excitement. “Oh! Goff! What’s your favorite color?”

“It’s just yes or no.” You told him.

“Right, okay, yeah. Uh, Goff, is your favorite color teal?” He asked.

“Bro, what the fuck?” Chris asked, shaking his head.

“What?” Adrian asked softly. “I’m gonna go through all the colors, and then eventually we’ll find out which one he likes best.”

“Yeah, and why would you give a fuck what his favorite color is? And why are you starting with teal?” Chris asked him, judgement present on his face.

You sighed, and leaned back on the couch. Alone, working with either of them was fine, you could almost say pleasant. But when put together, you understood Harcourt’s frustrations.

“You don’t think it’s interesting that a praying mantis thing has a favorite color and it might unexpectedly be teal?” He asked.

“Yes Adrian. That’s interesting, but I think right now we need to focus on finding out why he drew a peace sign on the jar.” You said, squeezing his thigh.

“Yeah, okay, you’re right.” He nodded at you, then turned back to the jar. “Goff, why did you draw a peace sign on the jar?”

“Yes or no! It’s yes or no! It’s only fucking yes or no questions!” Chris shouted.

“That’s a lot of rules!” Adrian threw his hands up.

“Two fucking rules! Two! One, yes or no. Two, don’t be a fucking moron.”

Great, now they were arguing.

“How am I supposed to follow that second rule?!”

“Maybe by shutting the fuck up!”

You groaned. The pair continued to argue, shouting at each other over you. You tried to make yourself smaller as to not get in their way.

You heard a buzzing noise coming from the counter. You tried to get up, but Chris and Adrian were making that impossible.

Once they’d stopped arguing they continued to ask the butterfly questions, albeit ridiculous questions, but questions nonetheless. Their questions were interrupted by Adrian’s phone going off. It played the song Barbie Girl. You and Chris gave Adrian weird looks.

“Who is this?” Adrian asked after he answered the call.

You could hear Murn’s voice on the other side of the phone. “Vigilante, have you seen Peacemaker?”

“Vigilante? I-I don’t know that person. That’s um- Is that even a name? Um- Sounds Italian. I’m-I’m American, so I can’t-”

You grabbed the phone from his hand, and pressed it to your ear.

“What’s up Murn?” You asked.

“If you’re at Peacemaker’s home, get the fuck out! The police are gonna be there any second with an arrest warrant.”

Chris got up from the couch and ran over to the window. He peeked out from the blinds. He turned back to the two of you.

“Grab Goff.” He told you.

You hung up the phone and threw it back to Adrian. Both of you reached for the jar at the same time, your hands brushing against each other.

“You take him.” You said as you pulled away.

Chris picked up a broom and used the wooden end to push open a hatch in his roof. He then walked over to Eagly’s perch before grabbing the bird, and throwing him out, out of the hole in the roof.

You stood up on the table, and hopped up, hoisting yourself out of the house and onto the roof. Chris was next, then he looked back inside.

“I’m taping Goff to me so I have both hands free.” You heard Adrian say.

You heard something crash on the door, and quickly moved next to Chris. Both of you took one of Adrian’s hands, and pulled him up. It wasn’t very graceful, but he made it up by the time the police crashed through the door.

Chris moved to close the hatch and then moved back over to where you and Adrian were ducking, on the far side of the roof. You could bear the cops inside throwing things around.

The three of you moved to lean against a tree, attempting to hide from the view of the cops. Chris stood on a branch that was near the roof, his body leaning against the tree. Adrian stood on the edge of the roof, you stood next to him.

You tried to move to look over the building, but you lost your footing. Adrian was quick to grab ahold of you, pulling you back up, flush against his chest. His arms were wrapped around your waist, and your hand were resting on his chest plate.

“Eagly!” Chris whisper-shouted to the bird. Eagly seemed fascinated with a piece of plastic, throwing it up in the air over and over. The bird wasn’t paying him any mind, and continued to play with the plastic.

Chris raised his fingers to his mouth and let out a sharp whistle. The cops on the ground quickly turned toward the sound. Adrian pulled you impossibly closer to him, and pressed himself further against the tree.

Eagly took off, and flew into the woods. You could see one of the cops make her way to your side of the building, gun drawn.

Adrian slipped his hand down to your butt, and pulled a knife out of your back-pocket. If it wasn’t for the situation you were currently in, his actions would’ve made you blush.

As he took the knife, the napkin fell out too. You scrambled to grab it and shove it back in your pocket.

“What was that?” He asked.

“Nothing. We’ll talk about it later.” You said.

He flicked the knife open, and aimed for the cop. Chris tapped his shoulder and shook his head.

“What?” Adrian asked.

“She’s a cop.” Chris mouthed back at him.

“She’s a cock?” Adrian replied.

“She’s a cop!” He whisper-shouted again.

Adrian looked disappointed as he handed the knife back to you.

“We gotta get the fuck outta here.” Chris whispered. You nodded your head in agreement.

Chris hopped to another branch and started to walk across it. Adrian motioned for you to follow, so you did.

He wanted to be able to try to catch you if you slipped again.

Adrian followed behind you. You all stopped on another branch. Sitting here gave you a clearer view of the ground, and you were high enough that no one would see you.

“Where’s your car?” You asked Adrian. A worried look grew on his face.

“I ubered.” He said.

“Why’d you uber?” You ask. Now there was no way you could escape the cops.

“Day off. I thought we’d get wasted.” He gestured to himself and Chris.

“Get what?” Chris asked.

Adrian mimed a bottle in his head, and pretended to drink from it. He tilted his head back, and, like you had earlier, lost his footing.

You reached out to grab his arm, but he was too far out of reach. He fell to the ground, landing on his back. You heard the glass jar shatter when he hit the ground.

You could see Goff walk around a little, before flying off.

“Oh shit.” Adrian mumbled.

“Stay where you are! Don’t move!” The cop shouted at Adrian. But Goff flew at her quickly, pushing itself into her mouth.

You and Chris hopped down off the tree, next to Adrian. You took his hand to help him up, then ran over to the cop. Just as you got there, the butterfly disappeared down her throat.

“Fuck.” Chris said.

“They’re here!” Someone shouted.

You turned to see another cop, then another. Chris took off quickly, but Adrian looked like he was still in shock. You grabbed his hand, and started running.

You could hear them getting closer behind you. They started firing shot after shot at you. You let go of Adrian’s hand to grab a knife, and threw it at one of the cops running toward you. It pierced their leg, causing them to fall down. You continued running, and Adrian turned to look back.

“That was so hot.” He said to himself.

Another cop popped up out of nowhere to the side. Eagly swooped down, and started pecking at his face. Eagly continued to take down any cops that you came across while running. You were pretty sure at one point he was gouging someone’s eyes out.

“Oh shit, Eagly’s hardcore man.” Adrian said.

As you neared a clearing two cops appeared. Adrian threw a knife into one’s chest, but the other pulled his gun on Chris.

Chris couldn’t seem to move. It’s like he was frozen. You were sure that this was going to be the end for the three of you.

You heard a gunshot, and instinctively closed your eyes tight. You felt someone grab your hand, and you opened your eyes to see Adrian. He nodded his head at another man, dressed in a cop’s uniform.

“There’s a car for you over that hill.” He said, putting his gun back in its holster. “Take it and get outta here.”

“Who are you?” Chris asked.

“Do you wanna ask stupid questions, or do you wanna live?” He replied.

“Which one do you wanna do?” Adrian leaned toward Chris. You dropped his hand, and headed in the direction the man told you. The two boys followed after you.

You could hear the cops begging for their lives, before being shot. Each shot made you flinch, just a little.

You weren’t used to this. Whenever you needed to take someone out, they weren’t begging you for their life.

You hopped in the backseat of the car with Eagly, while Adrian took the passenger side, and Chris took the driver’s side. Chris slammed his foot on the gas, and you sped off onto the road.

Chris took a deep breath, pulled out his phone, and started typing away.

“What are you doing?” Adrian asked.

“I’m calling Harcourt.”

“No!” He went to grab the phone.

“What the fuck dude? No!”

Adrian grabbed the phone and started hitting it on the dashboard. Chris went to grab it back, and Adrian ducked his head to try to bite his arm.

“Fuck! No biting!”

You tried to hold in a laugh. It honestly sounded like Chris was talking to a pet.

“They can track these thing!” Adrian rolled down the window.

“No, dude! No! Shit! Fuck!”

Adrian threw the phone out the window.

“You’re welcome Vigilante for saving my life.” Adrian said sarcastically.

“It was a secure phone! They can’t fucking track it!” Chris shouted.

Adrian sunk down in his seat. “Oh. My bad then, sorry dude. That was a pretty big fuck up on my part.”

Chris started to complain about all the photos he’d lost of Eagly, and how he was in prison when the cloud was created.

“What the fuck are we caught up in? That dude just executed those dudes!” Chris sounded distressed.

Adrian broke out into a grin. “I know, how fucking cool was that?”

“Adrian.” You hit his arm with the back of your hand, and shook your head at him.

“Hey! We’re saving the world from an alien invasion! It’s everything we’ve ever wanted!” He shouted, defending himself.

They continued to argue with each other about what they were doing. They were starting to get on your nerves. You repeatedly hit your head against the back of Chris’ headrest. A concussion might be nice.

Chris quickly swerved to the side of the road and slammed on the breaks.

“Hey, what are you doing?” You asked him, looking out the rear window to make sure no one was following you.

He held his hand out to Adrian. “Give me your phone.”

“They can catch up.” You said.

“You smashed my phone. I’m using yours.” He said to Adrian, ignoring you.

“Mine isn’t secure.” Adrian whined.

“I don’t give a fuck!” Chris replied.

Adrian pulled his phone out of his pocket, and held it out to Chris. He quickly snatched the phone from his hand and unlocked it.

“How do you know my password?” Adrian asked.

“I know my own birthday dude.”

Wow. Okay.

“Taylor Swift sexy butt?” He asked.

Adrian looked surprised. “What?” He asked.

“Your last search?”

You leaned forward to look at Adrian with your eyebrows raised. He looked back and forth between you and Chris.

“Oh no. That’s, um, just because I wanted to see some pictures of her sexy butt.” He said, as if that cleared things up.

You scoffed and leaned back in your seat. Was it jealousy that you were feeling? No, of course not. You were just friends. Adrian had the right to look at anyone’s butt. With consent of course.

The drive back to the office was quiet and tense. The three of you stormed in once you got there.

“So, Goff got out.” You said, crossing your arms.

“Goff?” Harcourt asked.

“Yeah, we kept Goff.” Adrian clarified.

“You kept Goff?” Murn shouted.

“Because Peacemaker has masculinity issues. It’s like a knuckle-dick’s tiger.” Adrian shrugged.

“I didn’t trust you guys. And I kept him because I wanted answers. And I knew he wasn’t gonna get out.” Chris said.

The group continued to argue about Goff, which then turned into an argument about the man that Murn sent to help you. Locke, apparently.

“He murdered the cops that were chasing us.” You told everyone.

“Hey, I uh, found something.” John spoke up. “I think I know where the raw amber fluid is coming from.” You all gathered around his computer to see what he was looking at.

“This is the truck that Adebayo found visiting every three days.” He informed the group.

“Okay?” You said.

“I was able to access all the security camera footage and highway cam footage in the area. And by stepping backwards, find out the route of the truck. It’s consistent. Same truck, same path, every few days. And I was able to follow it back all the way to the start. It’s listed as Coverdale Ranch.” He said.

“A ranch?” Murn asked.

“I’m guessing this barn is where the amber fluid is coming from.”

“That barn is not big enough to produce enough to fill those vats every day.” Harcourt pointed out.

“Butterflies burrow. You saw it below the Goff residence.” Murn said.

“And at Glan Tai, where I kicked that gorilla’s ass and saved all your lives.” John bragged.

“You are really stretching out your 15 minutes.” Harcourt said.

“The source is underground. We destroy their food source, we destroy the butterflies.” Murn told everyone.

“What? How do we know that?” Chris asked.

You could see Murn, Harcourt, Adebayo, and Economos visibly tense up.

“What the fuck is going on? There’s something weird going on, you think me and Vigilante are too stupid to notice!” He argued.

You honestly didn’t know what was happening either.

“Hey, everyone, look!” Adrian called out. He was sitting on a desk, next to Eagly. “Which one’s me, and which one’s Eagly?” He asked, a large grin on his face.

“Okay, you’re half right. But you score 50 percent on a test at school, what do you get?”

“An F” everyone said as Chris said “A D”

The group thought that the butterflies had a cow that they used to milk the goo from. Chris kept arguing about not being told information. You felt the same, but you were used to being kept information from.

“Everyone, get done what you need to get done. We leave at the break of dawn for Coverdale Ranch to kill the cow.” Murn instructed before walking off.

Everyone slowly made their way out. You stayed behind, hoping to get a ride back to the motel, since your car was left at Peacemaker’s house.

Adrian offered to take you back to the motel in the car that Locke gave you. He got the keys from Chris, then the two of you left.

The ride there was, like almost any other car ride with the team, silent. Adrian pulled up to the motel, and parked the car.

“Hey, what was with that napkin from earlier?” He asked as you were unbuckling your seat belt.

You sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing. You were super quick to grab it after it fell out of your pocket.” He said.

You couldn’t lie to him. “It was a phone number. I went to Fennel Fields this morning, and a guy gave me his number.” You told him.

His jaw tensed up. He sat up a bit straighter in his seat. “Who was it?” He asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“I think his name was Taylor?” His name was in fact Taylor, but Adrian didn’t need to know how well you remembered him.

“Are you really gonna go out with him? I thought you wanted to stay unattached. It seems like you’re about to hop on over to Taylor now.” He crossed his arms.

“Yeah, but why do you care Adrian? You go home and google pictures of people’s butts to look at. So why does it matter to you who sees mine?” You asked him, upset that he would say that to you.

“Because I don’t just sleep with people, then push them away! Not like you do! So you know what? I don’t care! Go fucking sleep with someone else. I’ll just be a good teammate and not care!” He shouted.

You felt your eyes start to well up. You weren’t going to let him see you cry.

“Fuck you Adrian.” You said, as you opened the door, got out, and slammed it back closed. You stormed off, up the stairs.

Adrian’s Pov

“Fuck.” Adrian sighed, leaning his head back on the headrest.

Adrian knew immediately that he had screwed up. He wasn’t always good at reading social ques, but when you looked back at him with tears in his eyes, he knew.

A part of him thought about getting out of the car, running back to you, and apologizing profusely. He’d wrap you up in his arms, and tell you how sorry he was. He’d beg you to not go out with Taylor, and he’d tell you that he wanted to be more than just a teammate to you.

But he wasn’t going to bother you anymore tonight. He’d go back to the office, and talk to you tomorrow.

He turned the car ignition back on, and turned the volume to the radio up.

“-diary links Smith not only to the murder of Annie Sturphausen, but directly to the murders of Senator Royland Goff and his family, and potentially 33 victims at the Glan Tai bottling plant massacre. Rest assured that every police station across the country has one mandate. Find and stop the Peacemaker by whatever means necessary.”

“Oh fuck.” Adrian said.

He quickly got out of the car, and ran to your door. He banged on the door with his fist.

“I know you’re really mad at me right now, and rightfully so, but we really need to go!” He shouted through the door.

You opened it, a confused look on your face.

“What happened?”

“I’ll explain in the car.”

#adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #vigilante #vigilante x reader #peacemaker vigilante #freddie stroma

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