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12thhouse-sun · 3 months ago

Text

you came back with gravity

Chapter 1: my resentment's getting smaller Chapter 2

Gale x female!Tav

3.7k words

Mature

AO3 Link

On one Waterdhavian spring day a chance encounter brings two old friends back together for the first time in almost ten years. Gale Dekarios is the last person Poppy wants to see but when confronted with his affliction, Poppy is forced to make a decision that will define both of them for the rest of their lives. – A Canon-Divergent AU where Gale still has the orb but the events of BG3 don’t happen.

Tags: Angst, Grief, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Discussions of Death, Discussions of Suicide

banner from @firefly-graphics

The wet cobblestones of Waterdeep slap under her boots as Poppy makes her way to the South Gate. It thankfully had not poured last night as many had predicted so the caravan should be leaving on time and without any road condition delays. It’s times like these she wished she taught herself Teleport. Half the fun of travel was the actual travel, the in-between of your departure and arrival. But given where she’s trying to leave, that fun isn’t as tempting as it usually is. She is deeply considering stopping by Book Wyrm’s Treasure to buy a scroll just so she could get out of here.

She never liked to stay in Waterdeep for too long these days.

Just as she is about to come upon Delzorin Street, the flap of wings and a familiar shrill voice meets her ears.

“Miss Lyons! Oh thank the gods, what serendipity!”

In a blur of fur and feathers, a mottled tressym lands on a low post a few feet in front of Poppy.

Poppy sighs inwardly. She loves Tara, but Tara is too close to what Poppy is trying to avoid. She definitely will be stopping by Book Wyrm’s after this…

“Tara!” Poppy exclaims, putting on a show of excitement of seeing her old friend. “How are you my dear?”

“I don’t have time for pleasantries or whatever you thought that passed as just now Miss Lyons,” Tara admonishes. “Mr. Dekarios and I are in need of your assistance.”

“Oh the great Archmage Gale of Waterdeep needs my assistance?” Poppy asks sarcastically. “Apologies if I don’t believe that. Now excuse me, I have somewhere to be.”

“He is not asking, I am.”

That makes Poppy pause. “But you said he needs my help?”

“He needs help but he will not ask for it, you know how he gets. But this time it may cost him his life.”

Poppy can only stare at the tressym. Tara loves Gale. Would do anything for him. It comes with the territory of being his familiar but also knowing him for over twenty years…thirty years? Gods, she’s getting old. But while Tara would do anything for Gale, she also calls him out on his bullshit. It’s something her and Poppy bonded over when they first met. And if Gale actually is in trouble and is refusing help, Tara would go and seek assistance…but then another thought occurs to her.

“Why doesn’t he ask Mystra to help him? Surely this is something his goddess can handle.”

Tara actually looks uncomfortable for a moment before replying, “She has forsaken him. Due to the cause of the situation he finds himself in, his prayers and pleas go unanswered. I have been doing what I can to assist him but there is only so much I can do, and he is adamant I don’t contact Elminster or The Blackstaff.”

Poppy chuckles darkly, “And what makes you think that I can help? I’m no archmage.”

“Do not sell yourself short Miss Lyons, you are quite powerful. But you are his friend—”

“We’re not friends, Tara,” Poppy interrupts. “We haven’t been for years now.”

“But what about you and I? Please Miss Lyons, if not for him would you do it for me? I’m desperately worried about him. I hate to see him wasting away as he is and there is only so much I can do,” Tara implores.

Wasting away? Poppy shakes her head. No. She can’t. He wasn’t there for her when she needed him so why should she be there for him?

But when she looks back at Tara, Poppy only sees deep concern carved into the tressym’s face.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

—

The townhouse looks a little worse for wear. Gale had enchantments all over the property to keep it looking its best no matter the season. It’s summer and his roses should be in bloom, but instead sit dead and dry in the mulch borders against the building. The vines that had once grown artfully up a trellis are now unruly and climbing halfway up the facade of the building.

Tara unlocks the door with a swish of her tail and Poppy follows her inside.

Something is…off. Just like the unkempt flora outside, the inside of Gale’s tower feels wrong. Poppy recalls previous visits to Gale’s tower where the Weave would practically smack you in the face as you crossed the threshold. Between the wards of the tower, the amount of artifacts he kept on hand, and Gale’s mere presence, the Weave was something integral to Gale’s home akin to the scent of someone cooking in a kitchen or music in Poppy’s home growing up. But not anymore.

Visually, it’s less cluttered. Poppy follows Tara up the stairs and sees some noticeably empty spots in the display cases and bookshelves that line the walls. There’s also a fine layer of dust over almost everything, as if he hadn’t been using this part of the tower in quite some time.

Then there’s the quiet. The enchanted piano that one could usually hear from where it played in Gale’s study on a near-constant basis is silent. Poppy pokes her head into the kitchen at its landing and sees dishes piled up in the sink, no unseen servant tending to them.

It’s unsettling, to say the least. Gale is someone full of life, color, and movement and that extends to his home. To see it in such a state makes her mind wander as to what condition she will find Gale in.

Eventually, she reaches the landing for Gale’s bedroom where one half of the double doors stands ajar, Tara’s fluffy rump disappearing through it as Poppy rounds the corner.

She takes a deep breath and moves into the doorway, stopping in the threshold. Poppy hasn’t spent much time in Gale’s bedroom but she has seen it enough to know generally how he tends to keep it. And what she sees now makes her heart sink. Gale has been a night owl for as long as she’s known him, so him sleeping in isn’t an immediate cause for concern, but she knows better than anyone what a depression nest looks like. What it looks like when one can’t get out of bed. It’s a particular type of wrinkles present in the linens and the level of darkness in the room. It’s how he’s laying in the bed, splayed out like he’s become one with the mattress. It’s, to be frank, the smell. Of when someone stays in one room for too long. A type of must that melds together with one’s natural musk.

Tara flaps onto the bed and bats him on the chest with a paw. “Mr. Dekarios, we have a visitor,” she announces.

Gale stirs, a low groan barely audible from where Poppy stands in the doorway. “Tara, we don’t take visitors,” she hears him mumble.

“Yes we do! I invited them myself. Now please sit up! We don’t want to be rude to our guest.”

“Tara!” he reproves, his voice hoarse. “I can’t let anyone see me like this—”

“None of that Mr. Dekarios, they are here to help. Now get up.”

Gale lets out a long-suffering sigh and moves to sit up, rolling out the cricks in his neck and Poppy can’t control the quiet gasp she utters at the sight of him.

He’s so thin; gaunt, even. His hair is grown out around his shoulders and a tangled beard crowds his jawline. But what really shocks her is the pale purple glow that emanates from the tendrils of a tattoo on his chest that crawls up his neck and across his cheek, making his dirty white shirt glow purple as well.

Gale’s eyes shoot to the doorway at her gasp and for the first time in ten years she is looking Gale Dekarios in the face and she absolutely hates it. Not just because she does not want to be here, but because of what he looks like and how it makes her feel. The purple glow seems to flare as he looks at her and he winces, clutching at his chest.

Curiosity getting the best of her, Poppy tosses her bag and jacket into a chair and strides into the room to get a closer look at the unmistakably magical and painful mark that brands his chest.

“No, please,” he gasps. “Poppy, you don’t need to be here. Tara, what in the blazes—”

“I will not be admonished for my actions Mr. Dekarios. You did not specifically say that we could not reach out to her for help, and I happened to encounter her on my errands.”

“Yes, but—”

“Gale what did you do?” Poppy interrupts.

He turns to her with the most pitiful look on his face. Clearly in pain, clearly uncomfortable with her presence given their last interactions or lack thereof, and clearly worried which confuses Poppy.

“It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with I am perfectly fin—eughhhhh” Gale lets out a groan and his eye twitches and he clutches at his chest once more.

Poppy crawls onto the bed next to him and pulls down the collar of his shirt to see that the tendrils converge on a circle on his sternum. The skin is bruised in the center and the glowing seems to get stronger not due to her removing its covering, but by Gale’s distress.

“Please, please,” he wheezes.

She ghosts a hand over the mark to get an idea of what in the hells this is and feels something hungry and roiling in his chest. Something dark. She closes her eyes and tries to focus on the magic nestled there and it feels wrong.

“I’m assuming you’ve tried dispelling this,” she mutters, brain working overdrive, trying to remember everything she’s ever read that might be useful. Thinking through every spell she knows and how they can help, if at all.

“Of course I have,” he gasps. “Please Poppy, you don’t need to concern yourself with me, let me suffer.”

“Shut up,” she snaps. Thinking. Thinking.

Wanting to see it for herself, she tries to dispel it, crooning the words and twisting her fingers just so over his chest. She’s failed to dispel too-strong magic before. She knows what it feels like, like throwing her own magic at an impenetrable wall of Weave. And she knows what it feels like to successfully dispel, to feel it fizzle away by her will and song.

But this, this thing in his chest does neither. Instead it consumes her spell, pulling the energy she evokes from the Weave and devouring it. Gale groans in relief and he collapses into the sheets.

Her spell ends and the glow subsides, but she can feel the energy beneath Gale’s skin and it seems to be sated. For now.

“What the fuck is that, Gale?”

Gale lays there next to her, panting. “Poppy, you really should go.”

“The fuck I will, now answer my question!”

“I brought her here to help, Mr. Dekarios,” Tara appeals. “Please give her a chance to.”

“There’s nothing else she can do, Tara.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence. Maybe if you actually tell me what happened I can surprise you, hmm?”

Gale looks between Tara and Poppy before seemingly resigning himself to his fate. “It’s not a particularly flattering story.”

And so he tells her. About Mystra. About his drive for more. About the book. How it almost killed him outright. How Mystra has abandoned him. How it’s been eating away at him for almost a year. How he’s emptied every magic artifact in his tower so Tara goes out in search of magical items. And how she is the only person to know about this outside of Tara.

She can only stare at him. Her stupid genius of a best friend. Ex-best friend. The tunnel vision, the fucking ambition, none of it is surprising to her. He’s been like this their whole lives. Only this time it didn’t get him ahead, instead it did the opposite, rending him into the man that lays in his bed in front of her, barely able to cast a cantrip.

What is she even doing?

“You’re fucking unbelievable,” she mutters.

“You know me, always striving for the astounding,” he jests.

“Oh, feeling good enough to joke now that I’ve pumped a spell into you, are we?”

He winces at the callout. “It’s been some time since I last consumed an artifact, and it did alleviate most of the pain, even though that is not exactly what you had intended.”

Poppy’s mind buzzing with this new information of the orb and its magic, an idea occurs to her.

“Let me try something else.” She places both hands over the orb and closes her eyes to focus. She strains to listen for the hum of the orb, its frequency, its note. In her travels she’s dispelled things as she just attempted to, but there’s another way. Like how opera singers can reach such notes that shatter glass, if she can counter the frequency of the orb, maybe she can neutralize it. Not really casting a spell, more like pure manipulation of energy by reaching out to the metaphysical echoes of the words of creation from the very beginning of time. Something raw and primordial compared to the neat and tidy way casters interact with the Weave in this day and age.

It’s discordant because of course it is. Not a single note but a collection, a chord. Something sharp that grates at her ears but she grasps onto it, and begins to sing. No words, just notes. She doesn’t have perfect pitch but with enough focus and time she can match notes just fine. But her voice can’t make this note on its own. Raising one hand, she casts Minor Illusion to create another collection of hopefully correct sounds to compliment her voice. She strains to focus on the frequency, this spell, and her singing at the same time. It just might work. She needs it to work. Gale needs it to work.

After a few minutes she finds the right combination of notes and holds.

They don't need to wait long. Moments after the frequencies match Poppy can feel the orb become angry. Unstable, even. Like instead of neutralizing it she’s amplifying it.

“Poppy,” Gale gasps. “Poppy stop.”

She opens her eyes and sees pure terror and pain in his brown ones. “This is supposed to work,” she cries.

Gale cries out in pain and the orb glows brighter and brighter and so she lets go, wrenching her hands away from him and cutting off her connection with the orb. He presses a hand onto his chest, the mark still glowing and tears streaming down his face.

Disbelieving, angry, ashamed, ashamed, ashamed, Poppy reaches forward to touch his arm and he flinches.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, casting a strong healing word over him, hoping it at least helps with the pain.

Gale takes a few moments to catch his breath before he responds, “You should leave.”

“I’m not leaving you like this.”

“You should be back out there living your life! And I’ve clearly made you late for something seeing as you’re in traveling clothes. Go and forget about me and all of this. I’ve been managing just fine on my own.”

“Having Tara go and fetch you enchanted items to sate the orb isn’t sustainable, don’t be stupid. Besides, have you seen yourself? When’s the last time you ate something?”

His hesitation is enough of an answer for her. She grabs her bag and jacket and storms into the kitchen a few floors down. Conjuring her own unseen servant, she sets it to wash the dishes while she prestidigitates the rest of the kitchen clean. There’s not much in the pantry except for some rotting fruit which she immediately tosses. Upon inspection of his larder in the basement she finds his seemingly endless stores of hundur sauce and wine but unfortunately not much else other than some rice and flour.

Poppy makes her way back up to the foyer and sits in one of the armchairs there, a cloud of dust pluming up as she compresses the cushion. Sneezing, she casts another prestidigitation until the dust is gone and then settles her face in her hands.

What the fuck is she doing? She’s supposed to be on her way to Baldur’s Gate by now. He doesn’t deserve a fucking meal from her.

Rot. Let him rot. He wasn’t there for her, so why should she be there for him? She’s done all she can in trying to dispel the orb. He’s gone and done something way over even his head and now he’s stuck, barely even a shadow of his former self.

Serves him right, she thinks. But there’s no schadenfreude like she wants there to be, expects there to be.

Her mind churns, battling her spite and her guilt until a small thump gets her attention.

Looking up from her hands she sees Tara sitting primly in front of her on the carpet, watching. Waiting.

“Please don’t look at me like that, Tara.”

“Like what? I don’t know what you mean, Miss Lyons.”

Poppy sighs deeply until she feels her chest tighten around the lack of air in her lungs.

“He never stopped trying, you know. He wrote you many letters. Some the length of novels. He never sent them, of course. But your absence pained him and still does. I’m not saying what he did was okay—I gave him my own lashing when he missed your mother’s funeral—but I’m worried for him. He hasn’t spoken to Morena since this began, and there’s only so much I can do to deflect her questions. And I don’t know who else to turn to. I’ll keep trying to find magic items for as long as the orb needs them, but you’re right. That isn’t sustainable.”

As long as the orb needs them. What’s the timeline on this sort of thing? Is there even one? Is this something Gale will live with for the rest of his life? Or will the orb be the end of his life?

“Tara…do you know what will happen if you stop feeding the orb? What will happen?”

Tara’s ears flick in irritation, in concern. “I don’t think you want to know that.”

“Tara, please,” Poppy pleads.

The tressym sighs. “Mr. Dekarios surmises that the orb when left unfed will explode. It could level the entirety of Waterdeep.”

Shock doesn’t even begin to describe how Poppy feels at that. She sits up a little and reaches a hand out and Tara comes, hopping into Poppy’s lap and allowing her to hug her and bury her face in her fur and feathers.

Shock makes way for dread, panic, and of course worry. But not helplessness.

Poppy is no Archmage, but she’s nothing if not creative. All this information does is make her want to beat it. Destroy it. Save him.

Save him. Gale may have made a stupid fucking mistake all those years ago that made her tear her heart out, but that doesn’t mean she wants him dead. As a matter of fact, right now it’s the last thing she wants.

—

A few hours, a perusal of Gale’s cookbook collection, and a trip to the market later, Poppy is moving through Gale’s kitchen as if it were her own. Gale is by far the more creative cook but Poppy can follow a recipe and knows how to hold a knife, and that’s enough to make something delicious and filling. Gale’s notes in the margins of the recipes aren’t unhelpful either.

It’s while the stew is finishing up and she’s singing as she toasts some bread that she hears the shuffle of feet behind her. Keeping her hands working but turning her head over her shoulder she catches Gale hesitantly making his way into the kitchen.

“You’re up! I thought the orb made you completely bedridden.”

“No, ah,” he starts. “When the orb is sated I am mostly myself but with some lingering pains. When it begins to hunger on the other hand…”

“Understood.”

There’s a bit of an awkward silence afterwards as Poppy turns back to the food cooking in front of her. She doesn’t hear Gale move and is waiting for him to say what he came down here to say. Because he always has something to say.

“You don’t have to do this” he draws off.

“You’re right, I don’t,” she says. “But I refuse to leave you like I found you. Or let you get back to that state for that matter.” Scooping up some stew in a bowl, she then grabs a microplane and shreds fresh cheese over the top like she’s seen Gale do before when making a similar dish.

Placing the stew and bread at the place setting closest to where he’s sitting, she gestures to it and says, “Eat.”

Gale doesn’t move to take a seat, he only stares at the bowl with that crease between his brow that forms whenever he’s thinking hard about something.

“Why are you still here?” he asks.

Poppy pours herself her own bowl of food and sits across from his spot, digging in, using her chewing of the meat and vegetables to give her time to think over her answer.

While she mulls, Gale finally sits but doesn’t touch the food. After a few moments, she swallows. Honesty has always been the best policy in her opinion, even though she would love to lie through her teeth right now. She reaches for the unopened bottle of wine on the table and begins working the cork out to keep her hands busy.

“Because I’m supposed to be the one who gets bedridden for weeks at a time. Who locks herself away in a dark room because everything is too much. And you’re the one who’s supposed to glow with the sun and with life.”

The cork finally free with a ‘pop’ she pours both of them hearty servings. They both need it.

Poppy finally levels her gaze at him. “Because I care about you. Now eat.”

#last light writes #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 gale #gale x tav #gale fanfic #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep

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autisticempathydaemon · 5 months ago

Text

[A4A] Your Coworker Cheers You Up

Tags: [Comfort for Workplace Anxiety] [Coworkers to More] [Slice of Life] [Lawyer Speaker] [Accountant Listener]

Type: SFW

Tagline: No one sits in a stair landing when they’re feeling okay. Believe me, I know.

Tone: confident, reassuring, light-hearted

Setting; SFX: A stairwell; quiet, with an echo when indicated

WC: 919, ~8 - 10 minutes

Author's Notes: Can you find the CastleAudios easter egg?

[Unintelligible talking, muffled footsteps, door opening] (With a slight echo, coming closer) -send money, are you?

Not a single second or cent. Like, I’m still paying my student loans. Why would I send you more of my money on top of that? Where’s the logic, where’s the-

[Pause, footsteps, going farther] -the humanity, you know? Anyway, I’ve got to finish up before lunch, but I’ll see you later? We still on for this weekend?

Cool, see you then.

[Tentative footsteps, pause, thunk of sitting on the ground] (Low, no echo) Just so you know, this is where people usually go to have quickies. The spot for emotional breakdowns is the basement .

Yeah, it was the roof, but the building management used their brains and figured out what a bad idea that was.

You sure? You look pretty upset for someone just taking a coffee break… You’re the trainee in Accounting, right?

Better, I’m Legal.

Better because I can sue the pants off of whoever made you upset, of course.

Only slightly. When someone is successfully sued, we’d take their liquid funds and assets like cars, houses, valuables. If the pants are really expensive, then they could actually count, yes.

Really. So point me in a direction; let’s get to taking pants. They call us sharks for a reason, so tell me where the blood is.

(Gentle, genuine) Seriously. I know we’ve never really talked before, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you here with the spiders and cobwebs without making sure you’re okay.

[Thump of bumping shoulders] (Light) Billable hours don’t apply to coworkers anyway, so you might as well share if you’d like, if it’d help.

[Roughly thirty seconds of active, sympathetic listening (perhaps punctuated with “mhm”, “uh-huh”, and/or “mmm”)] I should have guessed Miranda was the issue; that’s not surprising.

I can neither confirm nor deny whether or not we’ve had to handle Miranda. What I can say is that I’m glad she’s not in my department cause we all think she’s kind of an asshole.

[Laugh] That too but those are your words, not mine though you’re not likely to find anyone who’d disagree.

Oh, no, no one likes her very much. She’s only here because the CFO and her share an Alma mater and because you can’t reasonably fire someone for being unpleasant. I’d know; I’ve seen people try. What did she call you out for again, specifically?

[Long pause] Yeah, no, that’s kind of bullshit.

Almost all of it, so much I wouldn’t be surprised if the mistake wasn’t even yours in the first place. That’s how exaggerated it sounds.

My department goes line by line through all our contracts; I know the minutiae of each one and most of the clients they’re for. A standard accounting mix-up could hardly void the whole thing. It’s my job to make sure they’re not that fallible. How long have you been here again?

Okay, so even if it were that serious, that’s what this training period is for. She’s there to check your work and guide you, not berate you in public for a mistake it is her job to ensure you don’t make again. You know how she treated you was out of line, right?

Exceedingly. Not to sound like some sort of corporate shill but that’s not how we do things here. That’s now how anything should be done anywhere. Were you worried about that, that you didn’t have a right to be upset?

Bullshit. The only thing you could have done to warrant a public dressing down like that is run someone over with a company car. Did you run someone over with a company car?

Then there we go. (Sotto voce) And even if you did, no, you didn’t.

[Thump of bumping shoulders, laugh, pause] Of course I’m right. I’m in Legal; I’m paid to convince people I’m right.

Always, but I can’t say I’d recommend it. Too much of my salary is going to my law school, and I’d hate to rob the world and our company of a good accountant, especially when Miranda finally, deservedly pisses off the wrong person and gets fired.

God, I hope so. I hate when people go up the corporate ladder and use the people below as rungs to do it, especially when those people are as good-looking as you.

Yes… unless it’s not working and you don’t like it. Then I’m definitely not flirting, no, I’m bringing light-hearted, rakish levity to the conversation. Entirely up to you.

(Tentative, hopeful) Like it enough that I could take you out for lunch?

[Laugh] I’m aware you can’t write it off as a work lunch, that’s okay. It’s my treat, obviously.

[Rustle of getting up to stand] Need a hand up?

Let’s go. I know a place just two blocks away, a company poorly kept secret that’ll be perfect. Everything’s better when you’ve got a stomach full of pie. Do you like pie?

Liza at the diner’s got fresh, housemade pies every day, and she changes the flavors weekly. She’s the sweetest, always throwing in extra slices when we do late nights and order take out… unless Miranda orders. Then there’s no extra pie or pillow mints.

[Footsteps] (Fading out, with a slight echo) Oh, Liza hates her more than anyone. Two years ago, Miranda gave her some entitled shit about not serving pumpkin pie during summer, and she hasn’t officially brought pumpkin back into the rotation out of pure spite.

#boyfriend asmr #girlfriend asmr #audio roleplay #asmr #asmr roleplay #written by SunnyScripts

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arctic-hands · 2 months ago

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What MP3 player? And is it still available! I hare having to muse my phone, and all modern ones require WiFi and that defeats the object of a portable music player!

So about 4 years ago I decided I too was sick of streaming, ads, and algorithms, and was running out of space on my phone for all the songs I wanted to play on the VLC app, so I got a SanDisk/Sansa Clip Jam (the little one on the left)

[Image Description: two MP3 players, next to a hand for scale. On the left is a very small blue one, with a very small and simple white-on-black screen, and a physical button pad underneath the screen. The player on the left is much, much larger, with a larger screen capable of showing color images, and touchscreen buttons underneath. Both players are open to LP albums, but the one on the right actually shows the album art for Churches. End I.D]

Now the little Clip Jam was good for a while and I was glad to have it, but it did have some drawbacks that became clear. Mine was used but I believe these are still being made/marketed. It was twenty bucks used.

Pros (aside from the big one of owning your own media without ads/algorithm

Ultra portability

MicroSD slot for more space

Audiobook-capable, Audible compatible once you register it to Audible

Physical buttons

FM radio

Shuffle capable

NO WIFI, plug in and drag-and-drop uploading

Neutral:

no Bluetooth capability

Has stopwatch

The "clip" in the name refers to the clip on its back, which lets you attach it to clothes and such

Immediately apparent drawbacks:

No external speakers, must have wired headphones to hear anything. They use your standard jack, so I'm assuming you could use compatible external speaker but I never had one to try

Sometimes chapters of audiobooks don't go in order and you have to go in with tag editor software

and sometimes the books upload as one big file, meaning you have to go in with another software to break it up

Thing that made me fully disgusted with the thing after a year or so of frustration:

The HARDware capabilities of the Clip Jam mean that it can only handle two thousand LINES. Not files, lines. Meaning the Artist counts as a line, the Album counts as a line, the songs each count as a line. This is bad enough with just putting music on, but when you add audiobooks to it, the titles of the books and every chapter counts as a line. With an SD card you can add about another two thousand lines. When you use up your line capabilities, the data will be on your device/card but the player won't show it or let you access the files at all.

SANDISK NEVER TELLS YOU ABOUT THIS. It was not in any of the listings for it, it was not in the manual. At. All. I only found out by chance by finally coming across a years-old forum post talking about it after months of frustration while I tried to figure out why half my files (mostly audiobooks by this point) weren't showing

So I started looking for a new one.

...for the life of me I don't remember how I came across the Phinistec Z6, prolly saw it mentioned on the r/DigitalAudioPlayer while trying to come up with a new one to buy for cheap. The brand seemingly came out of nowhere, but it had what I needed. I got it thirty dollars used from ebay. They were still being sold new as of a year ago, I just prefer getting li-ion battery things used.

[Image Description: the players again, the Clip Jam is showing the SD card option, the Z6 is showing a list of Music/Folder/E-book/Bluetooth/Recorder. End I.D]

I don't have an SD card in either and the option only shows up on the Z6 if you have one in.

Pros for the Phinistec Z6

No bullshit line limitation

MicroSD slot for added content

Maybe just a pro for me, but this thing is HEFTY. Not heavy, but dense enough I'm worried you'd crack a skull if you threw it at someone. Wonderful tactile weight in my case.

Long battery life. I think I've had to charge it 5 times in the year I've had it.

External speaker

Wired headphone capable, as well as Bluetooth capable

FM radio (only works when wired headphones are plugged in, the dongle acts as an antenna. This is pretty standard, it used to be that way on phones too)

Audiobook capable. This isn't advertised but it can save your story place in the middle of the chapter. I didn't use this feature too much tho, I got an e-ink reader a few months after. I don't think it's Audible compatible, but there are workarounds for converting those to MP3

NO WIFI, plug in and drag-and-drop uploading

Neutral:

Can read written books for some reason. Not sure why anyone would want to on a screen that small, but it exists

So-so voice recording capabilities

A crappy photo camera for some reason?

Touch screen buttons

Cons:

It doesn't ship with current software, and for the latest update you have to email the company for the download link. Kinda sketch, I'm prolly some Chinese corporation's data bitch now, but seeing as I'm American I'm used to being a corporate (and government) data bitch for my own country anyway

Also had the problem of songs not playing or being listed in the right order. The listing was fixed with the update, but even after tag editing the songs were PLAYING in the wrong order when accessed under MUSIC. When accessed under FOLDER songs play in order, but artists are listed in order of upload then, not alphabetically, so it can get tedious when trying to find the artist you want if you've got a lot of artists on there. Not a deal breaker, just annoying.

No shuffle, but because of the above if you want to shuffle on a specific album just access it thru the MUSIC function

While screen brightness can be turned down, the backlight behind the buttons is blinding white no matter what you do which sucks in the dark if you have sensitive eyes

Isn't as portable as the Clip Jam if you've got small pockets (looking at you, women's jeans)

The external speaker is a bit tinny and higher notes can get a bit staticky (especially a problem when you listen to LP)

Virtually no information out there about Phinistec

I vastly prefer the cons of the Z6 over the hardware limitations of the Clip Jam, all things considered.

#mp3 player #music #audiobooks #physical media #for a loose definition of physical

6 notes · View notes

bippot · 2 years ago

Text

Summary: When the new government issued 11th Street Kid arrives, the team soon finds out why Waller picked her. They don't really know how Adrian pissed off their boss so much, but he sure isn't happy with their new colleague.

Additional Tags: Manipulation, Past Relationship(s), Co-workers, Angst, Secrets, Canon-Typical Violence, Broken Engagement, Double Agents, Emotional Hurt, Betrayal, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Family Drama

Music Recommendation: I Knew You When by Marianas Trench

Peacemaker, Adrian Chase Masterlist - here

└─────── ��⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘

Amanda Waller had added another member to the 11th Street Kids. Why? They had no idea. Their little strike force was going well. Under Harcourt's leadership, they were effective and getting more discreet by the day.

Obviously, there were slip-ups because of the two idiot crime fighters that were part of the gang. Like the time that Vigilante taped himself to a bunch of government drones when Economos wasn't looking because he believed that they were strong enough to hold his weight. They weren't. The target heard a high-pitched yelp and fled before the team had even tried taking a shot.

Yet, despite how well they were doing, Waller still wanted to add a member "in case of emergency". Well, that's what the paperwork had said. It was safe to say that everyone was suspicious of the newbie. They'd tried to dismiss the addition to the higher-ups, but no.

As always, Amanda Waller gets her way.

Okay, so they were definitely getting a new member. They could pick them, at least, right? Wrong. Waller was very adamant and careful when selecting her pick. Her choice was perfect. A dab hand at weapons and tactical fighting. Came from a long line of ex-military so she surely was somewhat patriotic. And maybe her best asset, she was an expert when it came to seduction.

The Siren was Waller's one and only contestant. She couldn't go wrong. Not with the Siren on her side.

Now, with a codename such as the one Y/N had, the team half expected a leather-clad dominatrix to strut through the door, whip already in hand. But, they got something far different. The 'Siren' in question was a thirty-ish nerdy-looking girl in sneakers, rounded spectacles and a Lord of The Rings t-shirt. No makeup. Nothing. Just plain clothes. She seemed uncomfortable with the whole arrangement, but if Amanda Waller was satisfied, she'd keep quiet.

Awkwardly, Y/N gave a wave and greeted with a simple, "Hi." She felt weird just standing there like some kind of alien that they were staring down as if they were trying to figure out how they were going to dissect her or some shit.

"You're the Siren?" Adebayo asked, trying to gauge whether this was an innocent pedestrian that walked into the wrong building, a disguise this agent wore, or if that's just what she usually looked like. Maybe it was just a costume or something. Who knew? Certainly not Adebayo.

"I am. I did ask them to stop calling me that, but nope. It was revoked." She shrugged and walked closer to where the group were gathered. "You can call me Y/N instead."

She held out a hand towards Harcourt, who took it cautiously. Emilia's eyes scanned Y/N for any kind of hint. Nothing. Y/N looked fine. A little bumbling perhaps, but nothing threatening, no indication of her inner evil mastermind hiding in the closet.

Yet. There was still time.

"Why did they pick you?" Harcourt asked, trying and failing to keep the scepticism out of her voice.

"I have one idea why."

Like usual, Peacemaker and Vigilante were late. They were loudly arguing as they burst through the doors. Chris was spouting some bullshit about his recent sexual escapade and Adrian found it hard to believe that a human body could bend in such a manner. Their voices came to a halt when they saw who was before them.

Y/N swivelled to look at the pair and made eye contact with Adrian for two milliseconds. That was enough time for him to recognise her.

"Nope."

Vigilante immediately turned on his heel and walked back outside.

Waller is an expert at revenge. She doesn't do anything halfway. And she certainly doesn't play fair.

"That's why."

Peacemaker didn't follow his buddy out. He simply stared at her with wide, shocked eyes and said "Hey, Angel," greeting his old friend with the hero name he knew her by. Chris almost couldn't believe his eyes. It had been years, four, maybe five, and she looked exactly the same. Fuck, the outfit she was wearing was similar to what she used to wear.

"Long time no see, Chris."

Years before, Evergreen had three heroes patrolling. Peacemaker. Vigilante. Angel. Back in the good old days when all three stuck to a rigid no-killing rule. The trio worked together often and were rather effective. Except that time when Peacemaker loudly whispered a very crude remark to Angel in front of Vigilante and, to this day Adrian is still in disbelief that he did it, Vigilante punched the helmet off Peacemaker's giant head with an angry yell of, "That's my fucking fiance, asshole."

And now Adrian didn't even want to be in the same room as her. Times change.

Economos couldn't stand the awkward silence that was suddenly filling the room and piped up with "You know Peacemaker?" He jolted his face in the direction of Harcourt and repeated, "She knows Peacemaker. Suspicious."

Y/N could've sworn that her time as Angel was in her file, and they must've got sent it before her arrival. Who knows, maybe they were sent a reduced version that omitted these details. Had her file even been sent?

"I swear you should've been informed of this, but yes, unfortunately I do know Peacemaker...," Y/N replied coolly, not looking away from Emilia as she spoke. She was being polite after all. She needed to be to get these people to eventually trust her. As much as she could help it. They wouldn't understand until she explained everything. "And Vigilante."

Or the way Chris explained it for her. He scoffed and exclaimed, "You did much more than know Vigilante, Mrs Chase."

Mrs Chase. Fuck. Y/N wished she was Mrs Chase, but she completely fucked up and that no longer was an option. Once upon a time, it was a possibility. It was almost a certainty at one point. Now they were nothing. Less than nothing.

The dorky facade dropped for a moment as Y/N glared at Chris. Then she warned calmly, but coldly, "Don't call me that."

It might have come out meaner than intended, but she couldn't control it. This guy was insufferable and annoying, always had been. His actions were petty and unprofessional, too. Always asking inappropriate questions. Making fun of her for having boobs then blatantly staring at them. Being so loud and alerting the police, which meant that they had to hurry to whichever one of their cars was the nearest. Seemingly, he hadn't changed. Still as bad, still as arrogant and full of himself as ever.

"Why? That's what it was going to be, huh? If you didn't run away."

"I didn't run away, jackass. I was in prison."

Oh. Chris didn't know that. He was sure Adrian didn't know that either. When Adrian got drunk and told Chris about it - which was the only way he ever spoke about Y/N - he'd always claimed that he had no idea why she left. The story that Chris had heard that one day Adrian returned home from his shift at Fennel Fields and Y/N was nowhere to be found. He called out, humour in his voice, "Oh honey, I'm home," and heard nothing back. Crickets. Metaphorical crickets.

And, after thoroughly searching their apartment, he came upon a note on the kitchen counter with her engagement ring placed on top. It simply said, 'I'm sorry'. She didn't show up for work, didn't answer her phone, and had completely vanished. That was it. No goodbye. No explanation. Just poof, gone. The message was clear: she wasn't going to return any time soon.

Fuck did it hurt. It hurt to the point where all he could do was stare at the ring in his palm. And, he didn't move for a really long time. Hours. It was as if his brain had shut off. He didn't know how to process this information. He didn't know how to react. And, then he snapped out of it and quickly changed into his suit, making it out of the door in no time. That night he got his highest kill count ever, which was weird because he'd never purposely killed anyone before.

Now there was no turning back.

Adrian would never admit to Chris that he cried over her so many times. Not even when he was drunk did he say how truly fucked up it had left him. In truth, Adrian had spent days, even months, maybe he still did sometimes, crying over Y/N. The pain of having lost someone close to him hit like a ton of bricks and Adrian didn't think he'd ever get better without Y/N there to comfort him. He missed her. Every single day.

In his mind the message was clear: she'd left him. She'd left him with just Gut, and he didn't want that. Gut was, well, he was Gut. He was his older, cooler, more well liked brother who constantly picked on him despite the fact that they were adults now. But hey, that's siblings for you.

What Adrian could've never predicted was that he got a phone call in the morning. He woke up groggy and sore and not prepared for the police.

Gut was dead.

Y/N. Gut. His parents. Was there anyone else that was going to be taken from him? That answer was easy. No... because he didn't have anyone else. Well, except Peacemaker, and Chris wasn't aware of his secret identity yet. He couldn't go to him. Then Peacemaker went to prison, leaving Vigilante totally and entirely alone.

One day, he decided that it was easier to ignore that they ever happened at all. Who was Y/N? He'd never met a Y/N before. You can't miss someone you don't know.

ARGUS stared at the new arrival. Adrian, at one point, was engaged? That was crazy to them. How? How does that work? The mere thought of him in a relationship was insane, but marriage? That was something none of them could comprehend. The Adrian they knew? Him? He could even love someone? He was capable of that? It just didn't make sense. But then again, neither did anything else about him.

"Belle Reve?"

"For a while."

"Why didn't I see you in there then?"

"I made a deal with Waller to get out and I'm still paying for it," she explained and gestured around her, implying that joining the team was part of the agreement.

Waller deals were tricky. The 11th Street Kids knew that. Chris knew that too. Technically, the only person who wasn't fully aware of how brutal Waller deals were was Vigilante. Being a freelancer of sorts meant that he wasn't actually an official member of ARGUS on the books and, by that admission, he wasn't directly under Waller's thumb like the rest of them. He was granted immunity from the police for his 'heroic deeds protecting the human race against the Butterflies', but didn't have to become an actual agent.

"Wait, wait, you and Vigilante were a thing?" Harcourt asked as she was still hung up on that. Why would Waller single out Vigilante in whatever plan she had? It was clear that was why Y/N was picked. She was picked to fuck with him. Was it punishment for that mission he messed up?

Seems a little drastic, but that is the Waller way.

"We were a thing, yes," Y/N answered, crossing her arms across her chest and leaning back against the table behind her nonchalantly.

"How long?"

"Five years."

Harcourt blinked at her for a few seconds. She opened her mouth and closed it again several times like she wanted to say something but couldn't seem to find the right words to respond with. Finally, she settled for shaking her head with a sigh and muttering under her breath, "I don't get it."

Five years was a hefty amount of time. Y/N had known Adrian for longer but they hadn't gotten together until they were eighteen. He'd always made it apparent that he worshipped the ground she walked on, but she took so long to finally pick up on it. They were pals, best buds for most of their high school years and beyond. After all that time, she still cared deeply for him. How could she not?

"Aren't any of you going to check if he's okay?"

"You made this mess, you see if he's okay."

"Fuck you, Chris."

Nobody had made any attempt to check up on him. It was obvious he was uncomfortable. He was uncomfortable because of her, so Y/N checking up on him was probably the last thing he wanted or needed, but nobody else was doing it. None of them had even moved.

Did they not care for him?

That thought is what gave her the impetus to push herself off of the table she was leaning against and stalk towards the door. Her footsteps echoed throughout the building as everyone's eyes followed her as she exited.

Sat on the ground outside the door with his hands covering his face, Adrian looked up when he heard steps approaching, peeking out from between his fingers. She greeted, "Hi, Ade," as she glanced down at him.

He looked up at her and his handsome face was full of pain. She felt her chest tighten as his bottom lip trembled slightly and his eyes watered a little, but he managed to keep his gaze painfully trained on hers. She didn't know what to say.

"Hi, Ade," he repeated in disbelief, breaking his focus and staring at his lap. "All these years and 'Hi, Ade'?"

"I'm sorry."

Without moving, he mumbled, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," Y/N replied calmly as she knelt between his knees. He let his hands drop from his face, allowing his expression to show the turmoil within his mind. It felt like someone stabbed straight through him every time he breathed the air she was breathing and the way her lips curved into a tiny, sad smile broke his heart further.

He couldn't handle this. He really couldn't handle this. And the worst part was that he actually didn't have a clue about what to do now. The fact he was trapped here with her was just one more sign of his helplessness. Of course, he couldn't escape. God no. The 11th Street Kids were all he had.

With the 11th Street Kids he wasn't alone.

His glare was intense enough to burn a hole through her skull, his eyes were filled with pure anger and betrayal, and it cut through Y/N like an arrow. She deserved that, and more. A moment passed in silence. It felt like it went on for hours, maybe days. But it was around twenty seconds and Y/N didn't move an inch. She couldn't. Eventually, she dropped her head to focus on the ground, staring at the cracks in the concrete with a pained look in her eyes.

A long, low sigh left his lips, and he looked back up at her. It had been so long since she'd seen him last. He mostly looked the same, maybe a little buffer, and more mature, but it was still her Adrian. They were the green eyes she remembered. Those were the eyes that haunted her dreams.

"I really am sorry."

It came out weak and quiet as if her voice didn't even belong to her anymore. It was soft and fragile and broken in more ways than one. But Adrian knew she meant what she said. Hell, she meant it more than she had meant anything in a long time. Her sincerity tore him apart inside, but he wouldn't forgive her. He had no idea whether he could.

"You're sorry? That's all you have to say?" He scoffed in response as he raised an eyebrow, glaring at her once again. "Sorry won't change things, Y/N."

Even her name hurt to say.

She sighed and bit the inside of her cheek as she lifted her gaze to meet Adrian's, forcing herself to remain calm. He was going to hate her even more. There was no use in fighting it. It was an inevitability.

"No, it won't." With an ashamed smile, she complimented, "I like your new glasses," as an attempt to ease some of the tension.

"They're not new. I've had them for years."

Fail. It didn't work.

Correcting herself, she retorted, "Well, I like your old glasses then," watching and just waiting, expecting him to make some comment or reaction as he always used to at her compliments, but no, he stayed silent.

Her expression hardened as she stood up, brushing some dust off her pants as she did so. She held out her hand to help him up and he refused to take her offer. She deserved his wrath. As much as he despised her, he still loved her too, more than anything else. And deep down inside, he didn't want her to leave. He couldn't bear it. Not again. So he got to his feet as well.

As soon as he was up, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, whispering, "Camera above us to the right." He went to find the camera, but she quickly added, "Don't look."

Obliging, he could help his curiosity and didn't shake her off, actually surprising himself when he felt how he instinctively placed his hand on the small of her back. It was a gesture that felt a little like time travelling. She was here. She was in front of him and within touching distance. He'd forgotten what that was like.

Instead, he allowed her to get closer to his ear to divulge, "Waller wants me to drive a wedge between you and Chris so your little squad will become less effective, and she'll have a real cause to shut you guys down. I don't want to do it, but I will if I have to." She stepped away as soon as she was done talking and went back inside, not even bothering to wait for him to follow after her.

Adrian was taken aback by her words but followed her inside despite the strange sense of dread settling into his stomach. This had all happened far too fast for him to process. Everything about this situation was wrong.

Yet, there was one thing he clung to - even though he knew he shouldn't - and that was the fact that Y/N had returned to him. He wasn't a religious man by any means, but he had prayed for this moment so many times.

Everyone noticed how quiet Adrian had gotten over the past few weeks while working with Y/N. Nobody mentioned anything about it. It was very unsettling to see him so un-Adrian-like. He couldn't hide the emotions in his eyes, and the way he would frown whenever he was in the same room as Y/N. He had been acting like an asshole, and everybody knew it, yet they tended to ignore it in favour of pretending nothing was wrong.

He was distant. He didn't talk that much. He kept to himself more, which was incredibly concerning for Y/N. Everyone else rather liked it. Though, they did find it unsettling at times. It was as if he had been completely zapped of personality and was replaced by a grumpy, silent killing machine.

Black Noir would've been proud.

"You have to stop glaring at Y/N," Adebeyo whispered harshly in his ear one day. She was sitting next to him, watching as he fiddled with the pen he used to write and draw crude things in the margins of his notebook. The sound of the pen scratching away against paper was the only thing filling the space between them, but he stopped anyway, glancing over to meet Adebeyo's gaze.

"...Why?"

"Because it's fucking creepy!"

Y/N chuckled from her seat across the room before clearing her throat, trying to pretend she hadn't heard their interaction. His gaze snapped back towards her instantly, and he swallowed hard before turning his attention back to his notebook.

Moments like that surprised Y/N. Despite how hard he tried, he was always aware of what she was doing, even if he did scowl at her every time she passed him. There was no doubt that Adrian cared about her a lot. She knew this. And he showed it. Not often. He would try and conceal it whenever he could, but some instances slipped through the cracks.

They were always brief. The slightest glance in her direction that seemed almost longing, or at least like he didn't want to brutally torture her for days on end with a rusty spoon. She'd caught him humming her old favourite song once and smiled to herself. John fell off his chair and Adrian could help but snigger and playfully elbow her to point it out. The real Adrian was in there somewhere. He revealed himself with the little things.

Like the time that Chris and Adrian were sent to pick up takeout for the squad and when they returned, Adrian slammed down Y/N's old favourite in front of her. The order was perfect. It was exactly what she always used to have. She didn't recognise it at first. It had been so long that she'd been to the restaurant, not only because she no longer lived in Evergreen, but it was their regular. Going without him would have been borderline blasphemous at one point.

"You remembered?" she asked in surprise, looking up at him. His jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed. He nodded slowly, averting his gaze to stare at his feet instead. The tension in the air was unbearable, to say the least, and Y/N had a feeling it wouldn't dissipate anytime soon.

In an attempt to ease it, Y/N kicked the chair next to her to imply he should sit down so they could eat dinner together. It seemed to work as Adrian reluctantly obliged, dropping down onto the seat next to her while she began eating. It was silent for a good five minutes before he spoke up, his voice barely audible.

"Want my salad?"

Maybe times don't change that much.

"Sure," Y/N replied easily. He pushed it onto her plate without another word. It was her turn to offer, "Want my soda?" and handed it over when he nodded without a second thought.

They both ate in silence for a few minutes, neither knowing exactly what to say to break the suffocating atmosphere that had settled itself between them. Things never used to be like that. Meal times always used to be filled with laughter. Making dumb comments over whatever TV show they were half paying attention. The odd occasion when they playfully threw food at each other. How Y/N would giggle after he would insist on feeding her something. Or sometimes, when Adrian couldn't wait when he got home and she ended up burning the dinner as they were too busy fucking.

It was fun. Comforting. It felt easy, as easy as breathing. Yeah, it always seemed as if they were one bad Brussel sprout away from choking these days.

One of Y/N's favourite memories actually happened during one of their dinners. It wasn't anything fancy or sophisticated, but it was imperfectly perfect. Adrian had insisted that he wanted to cook, which was an awful idea because he was just plain shit at cooking. She had no idea why she agreed. Maybe it was the look of pure love and contentment in his eyes as he begged. Who could say no? What was the worst that could go wrong?

He burnt everything he tried to make. The casserole. The pie that Gut had given him the recipe for. Somehow even the tea towel had managed to catch on fire. It had all gone tits up and he was panicking, not knowing what to do, not wanting to fuck it up and burn their apartment down.

"Something smells...." she began as she got home from work. She was going to say good but stopped herself before she lied. The smell of burnt butter and flour and who knows what else assaulted her nose. But, it didn't matter. The sentiment was there. He tried. He tried as hard as he could and that was enough.

"Hey, mush," she cooed when she reached him and hugged him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder to plant a kiss on his cheek. He turned his face to the side with a slight smile appearing on his lips before placing a kiss on her forehead in return.

"I don't think the oven works properly."

"What even was that supposed to be?" she asked quietly, her lips turning upwards on, her eyes squinting as she looked over his shoulder at the pot of burnt sludge.

"Chicken casserole with dumplings."

Unable to contain it, she let out a cackle and tried to hide it by resting her forehead against the soft fabric of his back, lightly gripping onto his waist as she tittered. He was so tense, which was usual when things didn't go as he'd planned. His posture was stiff. He wouldn't relax. She could feel it.

Trying to ease him, she comfortingly brushed her hands up and down his biceps as she spoke, "Thank you for trying."

"You're not mad?"

She turned him around to face her so he'd be able to see her grin as she joked, "Oh, I'm absolutely fuming," and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek then making sure to clarify, "I'm kidding, mush," so he was one hundred percent sure.

Still, he seemed like it was still bothering him, so she tugged on his hair to expose his neck and started placing tender sloppy kisses down it since that had a tendency to calm him. His stress started to melt away, which made her chuckle and tighten her arms around his torso to pull him closer and say, "Thank you for giving it a go, baby. I know you put a lot of effort into it. I'm sorry it didn't work out."

"Yeah, I really fucked it up."

He buried his head in the crook of her neck and breathed in, taking solace in the familiar scent of her skin as she ran her fingers through his hair. After what felt like hours, he pulled away and smiled, reaching up to cup her cheeks tenderly in his hands as he brushed the pad of his thumb along her cheekbones, moving his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I've ruined date night."

"That's impossible." She gave him a reassuring smile and leaned forward to peck his lips once. Then twice. Then three times. "If anything, you made it more interesting."

Sheepishly, he grinned before leaning forwards to give her a kiss, lingering against her lips for a bit longer than she expected. She pulled away first, but kept her hands in his hair as she looked up at him fondly, gazing into his eyes.

"What takeout are you in the mood for?"

Weirdly, Adrian took a while to respond. It looked as if he was trying to figure out an equation in his head, but she decided not to pry too much and let him work it out. After a few minutes, however, he finally said, "Pizza. I'll do it. You place that perfect ass of yours on the couch and I'll order and go and get it and everything."

"Aye aye Captain," Y/N said mockingly, raising her brows in amusement before giving him another kiss on the lips. "Try not to set fire to the phone too."

"You little asshole." He placed an arm under her knee and swooped her up, carrying her bridal style to the living room before setting her down on the couch with a smirk on his face. Once she was seated, he ordered "Now stay."

"I'm not a dog, Ade."

"Nope. But you are my bitch."

"How charming."

When they ordered food to replace his burnt attempt, he was very covert about it. They had been together long enough that he knew what she'd wanted and went into their bedroom as he spoke on the phone with the pizza place, closing the door behind him for extra secrecy. Then after a quick forehead kiss, he was out the door and prepared to pick up the delivery. She wasn't allowed to come with him, which was weird but she went with it.

Twenty minutes or so later, he was back with a "Honey, I'm home," as he walked back into the living room holding a large box of pizza in one hand, and a bottle of champagne in the other.

"Woah. What we celebrating, baby?"

"Nothing yet."

Quickly, he placed both items on the table and gestured for her to open the pizza lid, still standing and keeping one hand in his back pocket. So, Y/N curiously opened the box, flipping the lid over and not noticing that there was something written there, but immediately seeing how the pizza was in the shape of a heart.

"Aw, cute. Is that why you were all secretive on the phone?"

Adrian didn't answer but kept nodding his head in the direction of the lid of the pizza box, watching her with a nervous glint in his eyes as she lifted the cardboard and read aloud.

"Will you murry me?"

Shit, he reached into his other pocket and quickly added the top of the a that he'd accidentally missed off. He was so excited that he must've not even registered that he'd spelt it wrong.

"I was going to squish the ring into the stuffed crust but that would get it all cheesy," he declared as he got down on one knee with the ring box in hand and managed to bump his hip on the coffee table with a quiet, "Ow. Shit."

Y/N didn't verbally respond at first. She ignored the food and leapt at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she tackled him to the ground with a giggle. Her body pinned his down as she kissed every inch of his face and he joined in on the laughter with her, his own grin growing even bigger after every second that passed.

"At least let me give you the ring, angel."

With one quick peck on the lips, she sat up, which allowed him to rest on his elbows and take the ring from the box, slowly inching it towards her ring finger.

"Other hand, mush."

"Oh shit."

He slipped it on her finger and held her left hand up in front of her, showing off her engagement ring to her. It was a simple band of silver metal with a small diamond in the middle surrounded by a tiny floral print. She let out a soft gasp as she inspected it and brought her right hand up to trace over the delicate design.

"Wow," she breathed, looking back up at him with a loving smile. Y/N moved forward to press her lips against his, one hand on his cheek and the other pressed to the floor beneath him.

"Just checking, that was a yes, right?" he mumbled against her lips and then he felt them curl upwards again as his own formed a grin in response. She leaned back for a moment to take in the view of his happy expression below her, his green eyes sparkling with joy. He was adorable. Absolutely fucking adorable.

"Of course it is, my darling fiance." She nodded her head enthusiastically, grabbing his face and kissing him again until they both were giggling uncontrollably. "We can always reheat pizza, right?"

"Fuck yes," he breathed, sliding his hand up her shorts to rest on her bare ass, squeezing to make her gasp softly and rock her hips against his crotch suggestively. He groaned low in his throat, letting his hands drop as he stared lustfully at her.

That had been the happiest day of her life. The smile that appeared because of that memory faded as she took in his current sullen attitude and distant manner. She'd done this. She was the reason he was no longer happy. And all because she had gotten too reckless one time while out on patrol and...and...

Why the actually fuck did she agree to this? Well, Waller had made it very clear what would happen if she refused and that was something that Y/N would give up everything for that to not happen. So, she was planning to give up everything from her old life and focus on her new one.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Y/N glanced over at Adrian and caught his eye, mouthing, "Thank you," when it was clear he was staring at her. He simply nodded and averted his gaze, but she did catch the moment he looked down and briefly smiled to himself. It was progress.

└─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘

More progress was made over the next few weeks. Admittedly, some of it was orchestrated, like when Y/N's car 'happened' to break down so she needed a few rides until it was 'fixed'. Adrian jumped at the chance, but pretended like it was an inconvenience with a huffed out, "Fuck, I guess I can."

They managed to make idle, surface level chatter. Shit about the weather, or if they slept well, or if his shift at Fennel Fields went okay, and things like that. Their relationship had reverted back to being acquaintances, which was hard to deal with. Y/N could tell that he was still sulking, but that was to be expected. That was totally valid of him. She completely understood.

All that changed on a recon mission when they were sent to scout the location of a suspected hive of butterflies that were attempting to body swap with a buffalo at the zoo. Harcourt suspected that they intended to experiment with the milking process of the animal, substituting this new animal for their sacred cow. Whether it was possible for the buffalo to generate the appropriate food for the hive was yet to be found out.

"Ads and Peacemaker to the left, Vigilante and Siren to the right," Harcourt ordered, handing Leota an earpiece.

"Can I go with Peacemaker instead?"

"No, Adrian. You can't."

"Fuck you, Harcourt."

Y/N couldn't contain her laugh at his remark as she turned away, feigning indifference to the conversation between him and Emilia. Vigilante caught up to the Siren and she could tell he was pouting beneath the mask. He even grumbled, "What are you laughing at?"

She merely shook her head with a slight smirk as she skimmed their surroundings for oncoming threats. There weren't any. They had arrived without being spotted so far.

And since she hadn't answered him, the man beside her tried to send her an irritated look with the most adorable pout - completely forgetting that his face was obscured - and crossing his arms. He always did get more childish if things weren't going his way.

"I bet she did that to piss me off."

"Maybe she did," Y/N started as they turned a corner, coming closer to where the nest of the butterflies should be. "Or maybe it's because Peacemaker always insists on protecting Adebayo whenever he can. You boys are the better marksmen of all of us but you need someone to keep you on track. Leota for Chris. Y/N for Adrian. Keeping you focused so you don't kill yourself is most likely her main priority." She paused to joke, "Pissing you off could be number two, though."

Adrian rolled his eyes, turning his attention back onto the walk ahead of them with a small nod. She knew he was trying really hard to play up his annoyed demeanour as much as he possibly could. It was merely a ploy to hide the fact that he wanted her to stay close, just in case something went south.

But she was able to spot through his little act with ease - it wasn't exactly difficult considering how long she'd known him - and complimented, "Have you been working out more recently? You look buffer, big guy" as she knew he'd feel much better and stop being so grumpy for a minute or two.

"Uh...yeah," he replied, trying to keep his cool despite the blush that grew on his cheeks. He shouldn't care what she complimented him on. He shouldn't care if she thought he looked good. And he definitely shouldn't be having that stupid fuzzy feeling that arose when she was around.

He shouldn't after everything, but he did. And he couldn't deny it either. He hated admitting it to himself but he really couldn't keep the feelings he had for her down; he just didn't know how.

"Well, keep on doing it. You look good, mush."

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry. Old habit."

As they drew nearer, she could see the swarm of butterflies positioned near the amphibian room, waiting patiently for any disturbances to occur before they began attacking their prey. The Siren and Vigilante were disturbances so they retrieved their guns from the holsters and began picking them off one by one until there was only one left.

"Don't shoot yet. Let him radio for back up," Y/N whispered quietly as she peered along the corner she was hiding behind. She could already hear him talking into his comm unit. "Okay, now shoot him."

Without hesitation, Vigilante did as she said and placed a bullet right between the butterflies eyes, managing to kill both the human and butterfly in one perfect shot. It was so good that Y/N's praise left her lips before she'd even thought what she would say.

"Holy fuck! That was hot."

Despite all his grumpiness, he let out a flustered giggle before he quickly regained his composure.

"We've got a job to do, Angel," Vigilante pointed out, her old name slipping past his lips before he had a chance to change course. He pretended to not notice how her face lit up.

The pair proceeded to enter the room, taking cover in the dark corners of the room just in case they were confronted with another swarm as soon as they passed the threshold. The place was eerily silent except for the sound of their light footsteps on the wooden floor and the occasional rustling of leaves outside. Even though they were used to this kind of stealth operation, the silence made the hairs on the back of their necks stand up.

"We're at the east gate. There's a good chance we'll be encountering the buffalo herd. Swarm heading towards the entrance of the... frog fuckers. What's the science word for frog?" Chris said over comms, signalling that the old couple had been a decent enough distraction for Peacemaker and Adebayo to make it to their checkpoint.

"Amphibians, dude!" Adrian called happily to his best buddy. Y/N lightly hit his arm and gave him a look that said 'too loud' as she glared at him, silently warning him to keep his voice low.

Harcourt instructed, "Barricade the door to give Economos time to fly the drone strike in. As soon as it's in place, make sure to exit to the next enclosure as quickly as possible."

So that's what the couple did. Using every single piece of movable furniture they could find, they stacked it in the doorway as the very confused frogs watched on from inside their tanks. The frogs were used to curious tourists flicking on their glass and not whatever the weird dude in the visor and his scheming friend? girlfriend? accomplice was doing.

Out of nowhere, Vigilante began to sing as he threw random pieces of wood to the pile.

🎵Do you hear the people sing, singing the song of angry men?

It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again.🎵

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "That's enough wood. Come on, Enjoras," she teased as she pulled him to the exit of the enclosure and towards the one opposite. Yet, she forgot to check the sign above.

The first clue about what room they'd walked into was the hissing. Very few people knew Y/N's fears. Adrian knew with one hundred percent certainty that she used to have a fear of snakes. It seems as if she still did because she flinched in surprise when she saw a rattler slithering its way slowly along the ground towards the pair.

Who the fuck had let it out?

"Hey, hey, I've got you. I've got you, angel."

It was only small, so Adrian wrapped an arm around her waist as he guided her forward, leading her further into the room. It was a subconscious action and it was almost as if they fell into step as efficiently as they used to. Y/N had to admit, she was starting to miss that feeling of closeness, the familiarity, and the trust that came with working alongside him.

Yet, she kept her guard up the entire time until they reached the door, having walked the long way around the snake as Y/N's leg wouldn't let her move past it. But luckily, she was able to get through safely with Adrian right beside her.

"It's okay, we've made it to the exit. Want me to kill it?" Adrian asked as they stood together, Y/N gripping the handle on the side door tightly, ready to run if she had to.

"No. It's probably endangered, best not."

Stepping out of the back exit, the couple came across a huddle of King Cobras that had been let out of their exhibit to roam about, and immediately trained their gaze on the pair. To put it politely, Y/N was absolutely shitting herself.

There were no words. Adrian knew. He could feel her shaking beside him in fear as his grip tightened on her hip as he took slow steps, trying to go around the group of snakes but they had spread out and were taking up the entire walkway, making their escape impossible unless they went right through them.

"Guys, someone let the King Cobras out. We're staring at five, no six. Six hungry looking, fucking huge snakes right now. No exit available," Vigilante informed the others, his voice calm and collected despite the situation.

"Don't provoke them. Any sudden movements and they'll attack," Harcourt warned.

"Back up, slowly," Economos ordered, maintaining a professional detachment. They did as they were told. But, the cobras were getting closer, rattling with every inch they moved. "They are about four metres away. Do you guys think you can get around them?"

"Probably, but we might get bitten too," Adrian answered.

Siren didn't respond. She couldn't. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. All she could focus on was the large serpent that was dangerously close. Adrian noticed her panic and gently squeezed her hip, trying to comfort her in some way. Whatever it took to get her out of there alive, he would do it.

Over comms, Emilia notified the others and urged, "Ads, stop where you're standing and throw one of Peacemaker's stun grenades over the wall."

What Leota didn't know was that Chris had two types of bombs on his belt. Stun, one of his father's inventions that was totally silent and omitted a bright light to blind whoever looked at it as it hit the ground, which was the one she thought she'd grabbed. And a good old fashioned TNT explosion one - that was the one she picked.

And, the area in which she threw it in was rather small. Both Vigilante and Siren would be in the blast, and Adrian knew that as soon as he recognised the bomb that was flying towards them.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" he kept saying as he quickly grabbed Y/N by the waist and slammed them into the nearest wall so his body was shielding her from any shrapnel that was bound to come their way.

The sudden movement caused the snakes to rear up and jump to attack. They never got close enough as the TNT exploded any chance they got to bite, tearing their gross slimy bodies apart in seconds, scattering their skeletons and pieces of scale all over.

A thick cloud of debris covered their surroundings as the dust settled down, allowing Y/N and Adrian to catch their breaths as they peeked cautiously out to see the chaos that their little stunt caused.

"Now that's what I call a distraction," Adrian quipped as he looked down at Y/N in his arms. She was trembling from head to toe. He couldn't help himself and leaned down to press a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Her fingers were grasping at his shoulders and he could feel her heart racing against his chest. She needed him badly. Which was why she reacted with such a loud gasp when she opened her eyes and saw how a sharp part of one of the metal railings had impaled itself into his hip.

"You alright, big guy?"

"Do I look alright?"

That's when she realised she could feel that the impact had managed to singe off parts of the back of his suit and she was touching parts of his bare skin. His hand went to reach behind to pull the shrapnel out, but she grabbed his wrist before he could.

"Vigilante is injured. We've got to retreat. Prepare the van to take him to the hospital."

The Siren hooked her arm under Vigilante's shoulder to keep him standing, but he kept trying to sit down. He waved off her attempt to help him, arguing that she should, "Leave me and finish the mission. I'll be fine."

"Absolutely fucking not."

Her hand came up to cradle his cheek and she stared into his eyes with such determination that he could practically melt into a puddle of pure emotion.

"Let me help you."

Weakly, Adrian mumbled, "Y/N, no. We can't leave without finishing the mission. You don't know-"

"I don't care," she cut him off. "Come on. Don't put up a fight or I will knock you out and get Chris to carry you."

"Like you could knock me out."

"I think you've forgotten how we met."

That was back when Adrian was a wimpy, scrawny little thing and Y/N had just transferred to Evergreen High after a string of moves. Military family, you know. Though her mother had promised that this was the final move.

It seemed as if all eyes were on her as she made her way in her first biology class and was directed towards the only empty seat. It was next some weird kid called Adrian Chase who had an Eminem shirt on with a puka shell necklace peeking out from under the neckline. Y/N sat down next to him with a smile, unknowingly making him sweat and fidget.

Some other student was speaking so Y/N quickly scribbled a little 'Hi :)' on a scrap of paper and slid it towards him.

Unsurprisingly, his writing was quite messy as he wrote back 'HI!' with that grin she would come to love.

'I'm Y/N.'

'ADRIAN.'

'I don't know anyone yet, can I sit with you at lunch?'

'YOU DON'T WANT TO DO THAT.'

'Why?'

In response, he wrote 'NERD.' and an arrow that pointed to him. So, she added another arrow that was directed at herself and pulled her necklace out to show a chain with a very familiar gold ring on it.

'NO WAY! THE 1 RING?!?!'

She unclipped the necklace and held it out for him to look at it properly. His expression was priceless as he took the ring carefully from her hands and inspected it from every angle before he finally returned it to her.

'SO COOL!'

He looked up and locked eyes with her once more, both of them blushing madly as he handed it back to her. Their interaction was halted however by the teacher telling them off for passing notes.

Back in those days, Adrian was substantially more squeamish so when it came time for the practical part of the lesson to start, he let Y/N take the reins. She had no qualms about dissecting a frog. She cut into the frog's chest without batting an eye while Adrian watched on.

He was doing fine - admittedly he was feeling queasy just looking at it - but he hadn't made any big, obvious signs that he was having trouble. That was until she got the tweezers and plucked the heart out, placing it in the palm of her hand to show him. The sight of it made his face turn completely pale.

"Uhh... Y/N..." he stuttered nervously, his eyes rolling back in his head as he suddenly got lightheaded. Boom. Just like that, he hit the deck. He fainted at the sight of it.

Young Y/N quickly threw the stuff down in her hands and whipped her gloves off as she knelt beside him. Before the teacher had reached them, she'd taken off her cardigan and placed it under his head whilst checking his pulse.

A little crowd of other students had already gathered when his eyes finally opened again and sluggishly mumbled, "Are you an angel?"

Angel? Huh, she liked that.

Tittering began to fill the room as the other students began to tease him and whisper about him fainting. And the fact he'd completely given his new found crush away in less than thirty minutes of meeting her.

"Uhh...my brain's all mush."

"Let's get you to the nurse, ol' mush brain? You might have a concussion," she softly said as she helped him to his feet. Why the teacher wasn't doing anything, she had no idea. As she guided him to the general direction of the nurse's office - she had no idea as it was her first day - his cheeks were a beautiful red shade.

Similarly, his blood that was covering her hand was a similar shade of crimson as she applied pressure to the surrounding area of his wound. He lay face down in the back of the van - a situation he'd been in too many times to count - while John raced to get medical aid.

"Can we go one fucking mission without you ending up with a goddamned injury?" Harcourt sighed, running her hand through her hair in frustration before leaning back in the chair. To which, Vigilante just grunted in response, his eyes never leaving Y/N and the immensely worried expression on her face.

Chris and Leota hurried back to the van.

"They knew we were coming."

The butterflies managed to win today.

John pulled to a stop in front of a veterinarian, and Chris and Y/N both helped get Vigilante inside, his mask still firmly covering his face. After bribing the vet with a lot of government money, they got to work on Adrian, sedating and patching him up in no time flat.

After getting into a shouting match with Waller - it was mostly about who tipped off the butterflies with information that the strike team not only were attempting their mission today, but that a member had an intense fear of reptiles - Y/N was by Adrian's side as he woke up. Once his consciousness came to, she gently caressed his cheek with her thumb and smiled warmly at him.

"Hey," she greeted him. "You're safe now."

He blinked a couple of times before looking around the veterinary clinic in complete confusion, then he turned to stare at her wide eyed.

"Don't worry, they haven't seen your face."

How did she know that was what he was going to say? It seemed she had a sixth sense whenever it came to knowing exactly what was on his mind or what he needed. If anything, it seemed as though Y/N knew things about him that he didn't even realise. It was written all over her face whenever he glanced up from where he lay. She knew way more about him than he did about her it seemed.

"You had me scared for a second there, mush," she softly admitted, brushing some of his hair out his face.

Despite how groggy he felt, he still warned, "Don't call me that."

She hadn't meant to. It just slipped out. In shame, she retracted her hand and apologised, "Sorry. I shouldn't have done that," but instantly gripped his shoulders to gently push him back onto his side when he tried to sit up. "Woah, not yet....bud."

Of all the nicknames in the world? She went with 'bud'. The first word that came to mind was fucking 'bud'.

"Nope, that hurt way more."

"I'll work on it."

He rolled his eyes fondly, smiling to himself. He leaned back against the soft pillow and closed his eyes as he teasingly pointed out, "So you've still got a fear of snakes" with what she assumed was a shit-eating grin.

"Some things don't change." He gave a short chuckle, and for the first time in a really long while, she got to hear his laugh again. She patted him on the hand and declared, "Thank you. You're still my hero. It seems that that hasn't changed either."

Strangely, he felt the need to grab her hand when she touched him, placing his fingers in hers at her admission and squeezing gently. The warmth of his palm against hers was comforting, the connection between them strengthening once again.

"Do you want me to get you anything? Food? Water?"

Whether it was the drugs or the mass amount of memories of them being in similar situations when they were younger, he flirted, "How about a kiss to take the edge off?" and lifted the bottom of his mask up to expose his lips.

No. She couldn't do that. That would be foolish. She settled with lifting his hand to her lips to place an innocent peck upon his knuckles.

This clearly wasn't sufficient for him as he pouted and whined, "No. A real one."

"No."

"Come on, I saved you from those super scary snakes today."

Still, she just stared at him. She wanted to. She really did.

"I think I'm dying and I need someone to kiss it better. I'm like that Snow White chick, gotta get a smooch or I'll fall into eternal slumber." She snorted at his stupid joke and reluctantly gave in.

A quick peck on his cheek.

"Warmer."

A light kiss on his forehead.

"Now you're getting colder."

Then one on his dimple.

"Warmest. Like, so warm."

Finally, she kissed him on the lips this time. He responded instantly, his hand moving from his side to wrap itself around the back of her neck, pulling her in close, and deepening the kiss. For a moment, she forgot all about everything else. She could only focus on his taste, his touch, the smell of his cologne, the feel of his lips, and everything around them faded away to nothingness.

It was just the two of them; alone, together, and loving each other. Like they always used to. No worries. No demands. No orders. No crimes. No threats. There was only this. Just them.

"This is such a dumb decision," she murmured against his mouth, which caused him to smile. His tongue swept across her lower lip, coaxing entry which she obliged. Her tongue danced with his, tangling with his, tasting him. It was a natural thing, something they were born to do like a well tuned dance; perfectly synchronised.

"Dumb is my middle name, angel."

"Weird, I thought it was Allen."

After that, Adrian seemed more like himself again; although they didn't let anyone else on the team know about the kiss. Not even Peacemaker knew. They all kind of guessed that the two had a heart to heart (rather than a mouth to mouth) when he got hurt. That must've been the reason for the lack of murderous glares and grumpy behaviour

"You're like my own personal sexy nurse," he flirted as she redressed his bandage. She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless, because even though he was teasing her, she could tell he genuinely liked having her around again. "If I ordered one of those slutty Halloween costumes would you wear it for me?"

She snorted, not bothering to hide her amusement. "No way." He stuck out his bottom lip once more, looking like a child who'd been denied ice cream. Which made her laugh more. "No chance."

He grinned then leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on either side of her, trapping her before him. "Hypothetically, what if one glance at you dressed up, like, made me indestructible and all my wounds healed in no time, would you do it then?" he continued with a grin, making sure to look deeply into her eyes as he said these words.

"Keep dreaming, Ade."

His arms shot around to her and tightened in a way that she could feel the strength of his muscles behind her back. He was strong, no question. "That's not too bad of a dream, huh?" she felt his breath brush lightly against her ear as he hugged her.

It felt too good to stop. Her arms snaked themselves around his shoulders and pulled herself closer to him, burying her face against the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent deeply, savouring the feeling of being held. When he pulled away and looked down at her, his expression softening, she almost couldn't bring herself to let go. Almost.

But she did anyway. "Okay, enough of that. You'll reopen your stitches if you squeeze me any tighter." His cheeks coloured slightly and she chuckled, leaning up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Go home, Ade. You should rest."

He nodded silently, giving her a smile before disappearing out of sight down the hall.

Once he was gone, she stood there for a few moments longer, her heart beating wildly and her palms sweating. How could she have been so forward? Stupid. Unwise. Dangerous. A traitor. That was exactly what she was, wasn't it? A traitor? A liar? A whore? A murderer? All of the above.

└─────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────┘

Throughout his recovery time, Adrian was forced into paperwork duties. He despised it, especially since he was forbidden to patrol while he was healing. The first few days, he refused to do any work. He'd spend hours staring aimlessly at the papers stacked high on his desk until his gaze became unfocused as he drifted in his thoughts.

But, like usual, he made a speedy recovery and was back in his newly repaired Vigilante suit in no time. He was back out on the streets and helping the people of Evergreen. Although, there was one girl he knew very well that had a problem he could easily solve.

The motel where Y/N was staying happened to be on the opposite side of town than the laundrette and it was a big hassle to go there, so Y/N had done very little laundry and was quickly running out of clean clothes to wear.

Y/N perched herself on the edge of Adrian's desk to face Peacemaker as she inquired, "Chris, do you know if Samuel's is still open after all these years?"

"Closed down two years ago when the old man had a stroke."

"Shit," Y/N cursed, tapping her fingers against the wood in thought. Maybe she could buy some febreeze and do it the gross way. "Any other clothes shops left? I've got one pair of clean jeans left. Shit, I ran out of underwear a few days ago."

Both Chris and Adrian tried to hide how they were both now thinking about how Y/N admitted she didn't have any panties on. That was a distracting notion.

"Ade, you okay?" She asked as she saw how Adrian had zoned out when she turned to see if he had any suggestions. When he made a confused noise, she repeated her question, tilting her head curiously. He shook his head, momentarily snapping out of whatever thoughts had gotten him distracted, and gave her a smile.

"Oh yeah, better than a dog in a graveyard," he replied dismissively as he continued to play with his hands, avoiding eye contact and trying his damnedest to look anywhere but his underwear-less ex-lover.

"What the fuck does that mean, dude?"

Y/N explained for him, "Dogs like bones."

Like always, Y/N understood him and his little quirks and habits. Adrian was always thankful for that when they were together. Throughout his life, he was always weird and quirky and Y/N understood, somehow, exactly where he was coming from. Ever since they'd met, it was as if she could translate all of his Adrian-isms. She always used to be a useful ear to vent to, a helping hand to explain the complexities of 'normal' people to him, and an attentive friend to help him find the words he really wanted to say.

"Why wouldn't you say 'like a dog with a bone' then?" Chris argued. Adrian just shrugged, not having an answer for him. For the life of him, he had no idea why he said the things he said.

Yet, neither of them had answered Y/N's question so she repeated, "Clothes shops? Any ideas?"

Now, Adrian did have an idea. A sad idea. One that would make him look like a sad, brokenhearted fool of a guy that had desperately held onto a bunch of his partners stuff for years. Because that's exactly what he was. Before he could stop himself, Adrian admitted, "I have some of your old stuff if you'd like me to bring it to your hotel room later?"

"You do?"

"I say some of it, I have all of it still. Yeah, put it in a box on top of my wardrobe. It's not like I'm doing anything with it and... and it is your stuff - you still own it - so, yeah. Do you want it?"

How sweet. Somehow her heart broke even more, if that were even possible. She reached out and gave his hand a grateful squeeze. "I would love that."

When her words sank in, he finally smiled up at her and nodded in approval, his eyes flicking between hers. His smile disappeared instantly however as he remembered why he had the box there in the first place, and slowly wiggled his hand away from hers.

That night in her hotel room, she initially thought he'd forgotten. She waited, but gave up after a few hours and went to bed, kissing the picture she kept in her wallet before falling asleep. Yet, her sleep was rudely awakened by a set of rough bangs on her door. Probably a drunk, she thought. But it may have been trouble, so she retrieved her gun from under her pillow and opened the door a smidge.

"Shit, were you sleeping? I knew I should've come before patrol."

With the sound of Adrian's voice, she opened the door wide enough for him to enter and see that she was just in a bra and tiny shorts - that he knew for a fact she was using as underwear. It was a sight he'd seen before. Many, many times before. Yet, he appeared to not notice or care (he did and was trying desperately not to show it) as he heaved the box onto the hotel table.

"Thank you. You're a lifesaver," she exclaimed as she rifled through the box, pulling out garments that she hadn't seen in so long. Adrian stood behind her silently for a second, watching her pull out a green slip dress that he bought her. "Woah, remember this little number?"

"I remember you only managed to wear it out of the house twice because you looked too good in it." Adrian shrugged with a small chuckle, leaning against the door frame and watching as she held it against her body to examine it closer. He couldn't help but joke, "Don't do that, it reminds me of my twenty-fourth birthday."

Y/N laughed as well, shaking her head before turning around and looking at him. "Surprised you remember that based on how much you had to drink that night."

"How could I forget?" He raised an eyebrow, his smile turning into a full blown grin that showed all of his teeth. He was acting differently tonight. More playful, more relaxed, more confident. Y/N wasn't sure what was causing him to suddenly become so comfortable, but it was definitely a welcome change.

Despite how his compliments still caused a blush to her cheeks, she ignored it and continued looking through her box of memories, until she got to the squished pile of her underwear.

"Don't know why, but I assumed there would be more."

Should he admit it? No. Did he?

"I went through a phase of jerking off into your underwear then lighting them on fire." That was probably the most direct answer he could give her. No bullshit. 'I did this and this, now you react to what I've said'.

Though, her reaction was just an "Oh" because she'd expected way worse shit than that. The thought alone was amusing and she let loose a laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

"You were gone and I was horny and angry so -" She gently placed her hand on his arm and he stopped talking. His expression faltered slightly as he stared down at her and waited for her to speak up, wondering if he'd said too much or not enough. Should he have kept it inside?

"I understand and I cannot apologise enough for my absence. You don't need to justify yourself to anyone, least of all me. Okay?" She said it all sincerely, and Adrian knew she meant every word. Even though the words were somewhat blunt, it was the same kindness and sincerity that always seemed to radiate from her whenever anyone was ever brought into her world. It was something that no one else was ever able to replicate.

He simply nodded and replied with an "Okay." He wasn't going to complain about the apology; he deserved it.

The pair of them continued going over all the old memories that came out of that box until it had begun to pour it down outside. "You're not driving in that," she stated as he went to open the door. Before he could leave the room he felt something soft brush the back of his arm as she pulled him by the bicep back into the safety of her hotel room. "Come on, get your ass back here."

"I think you forget that I'm a super cool superhero and rain can't stop my awesomeness."

"What powers do you have again?"

"I will come back inside."

Within no time, he had stripped down to his underwear and was laying like a stiff board on the other side of the bed, staring straight at the ceiling because he knew if he looked at her, he'd immediately weasel himself into her arms.

"This hotel room reminds me of prison," he commented and was totally right. It was the cheapest on offer.

There were no windows, the walls were plain white with gross smudges and paint cracking off, the bed was uncomfortable and there was a spring out of place that was poking Adrian right in the left but bum cheek. The only other furniture was a beat up old chest to put her clothes in and thick 00's style television. It was gross and bland and cold.

But at that moment he didn't care about any of that. Not when she was lying next to him.

"Yeah, it does remind me a bit of Blackgate," Y/N chuckled softly, rolling onto her side to face him. He shifted his position to face her, mirroring her movement and stared at the girl he loved. Her hair was a mess and the dark circles under her eyes were prominent, but she smiled at him anyway.

They'd never spoken about her incarceration before.

"What was it like? In Blackgate?" Adrian asked quietly, wanting her to talk. There were so many things he wanted to ask her but couldn't find the words to, and now seemed like a good opportunity.

"It was...loud," she answered after a brief silence. Her eyes trailed towards her hand which was laying next to his and slyly moved it further away so she could admit, "A lot of mentally ill people get put there so it was constant. The yelling, screaming, crying. It hardly ever stopped."

Adrian listened carefully as she spoke, his brow furrowing at how serious she sounded and the look of sadness she had on her face. It made him wonder what she'd been through and whether he'd even be able to fully understand the pain she must have endured while being locked up, but she quickly squashed that thought as she added, "Yeah, I was only there for a month before I got transferred to Belle Reve."

Belle Reve? Peacemaker had also got sent to Belle Reve, why hadn't he seen her during his time there?

"I cut a deal with Waller. Originally, it was ten years of my service to her, but over time I made more and more deals. This year should be my last," she explained as she saw he was struggling to piece things together. And she found that adorable.

He was silent for quite awhile as he mulled over her words, his mind working furiously to put the pieces together. But when they weren't connected together, he shook his head in disbelief. Why the hell would she be willing to go to jail? That was the part that kept tripping him up. She handed herself over, only to jump through hoops trying to get herself back out.

"What case are you cracking wide open, mush?" she teased and reached out to poke his bicep to get his attention. He snapped his gaze up to hers, almost expecting a glare to follow his outburst, but instead was met with laughter and a warm smile that melted his heart.

Yet, he still felt nervous as he asked, "So...so you preferred to be in prison than to be married to me? To spend your life in a cell rather than be with me?" and couldn't help as his voice cracked halfway through his question.

Her eyes widened momentarily as she realised what he said and her hand flew to cradle his head, her thumb brushing comfortingly against his cheek. "No, no, no, Adrian, I didn't mean it like that. I'm so sorry if I ever gave you the impression that I didn't want to see you again," she tried to calm him and he could feel his anger subside as she did so, allowing her to continue. "I messed up and I needed to pay for it. You were never the issue. I'd give anything to do it right, but... I can't, mush."

She sighed sadly, smiling at the familiar warmth that spread throughout her whole body as he placed one of his hands on top of hers and closed his eyes. He leant into her hand a little, taking deep breaths, calming his racing heartbeat and relaxing as he tried to get everything together in his head.

As he finally opened his eyes, he noticed the tears forming in the corner of hers as she gazed at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, in return. He was never really one to express his emotions very easily but tonight it seems like his brain couldn't hold all of his thoughts and he ended up speaking without thinking first.

"Can you hold me?"

"Ade, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Please, baby?"

She hesitated and for the slightest moment she considered refusing but something told her this was something he truly needed. So, with a small nod she shuffled closer to him and wrapped her arms around his middle, pulling his chest flush against hers as his hands found their way to her waist. He buried his nose into her neck, breathing her in, relishing the feeling of her warm breath fanning across his skin and he felt like he was home once more.

Home. A place he hadn't experienced in five long years.

With a sigh, he relaxed into her touch and held her tighter. He took in several slow, deep breaths before he finally began to relax completely and fell asleep. The warmth of her embrace and her soothing scent eventually lulled him into unconsciousness and, all too soon, the nightmares he had become accustomed to disappeared for the night.

Y/N smiled gently as she watched him sleep. Her baby was back in her arms again, safe and sound. But, she couldn't help but feel guilty. She had no right to hold him again. She wasn't allowed to. She had taken so much of his time and happiness already, yet she planned on taking more from him.

But she couldn't bring herself to let him go, especially when he looked so peaceful. His lips were slightly parted, his expression relaxed, almost ethereally beautiful in the darkness of the room. And most of all, he looked at peace. He looked like he belonged.

The fact of the matter was that he couldn't belong with her, or least, he shouldn't. He deserves someone who would treat him well. Someone who wouldn't take advantage of him like she had done. Someone he could count on and trust in the end. And, once upon a time, she was determined to make sure that someone was her. These days? She wasn't so sure.

Not knowing she was crying until he woke up due to her shaky breaths, she quickly wiped her tears away and gave him a fake smile. "Go back to sleep, mush. Everything is fine."

"You're crying," he pointed out as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up slowly, but she gently guided his head back to her chest and pulled the covers up higher around them.

"It's nothing," she said firmly, hoping he'd drop it, but he clearly didn't believe it because he raised his head to meet her gaze.

"Don't lie to me," he whispered, his eyes full of concern and love as he stared up at her. She swallowed hard and fought the lump that suddenly formed in her throat and looked down at the blanket beneath him.

Since his words weren't working, he sluggishly crawled further up until his nose poked into her cheek and teasingly poked his tongue out to prod her skin which caused her to giggle. He always used to do that when she was sad. She ran her hands through his curls, smiling as the soft hair tickled her fingers and he closed his eyes as a smile appeared on his face.

"Just remember what I told you on day one."

"Mmhmmm," he mumbled into her cheek as he had obviously got too sleepy to pay attention to her words. Her heart ached a little as she watched him fall back asleep, her grip tightening around him protectively.

"Please, mush. Please don't trust me."

However, it was too late. He was out like a light.

Waking up in the morning, Adrian couldn't quite believe it. Here he was, cuddled up to his girl like nothing had happened between them. It felt like he was twenty-five again. It was surreal but in a wonderful kind of way. She was snuggled up to him, holding on tight and a few stray strands falling across her face so he brushed them away gently.

She stirred at the sensation and hummed quietly as he continued to stroke her hair. She gradually awoke, her eyes slowly fluttering open. She lifted her head to stare up at him and gave him a lazy, sweet smile, one he returned.

"Hi, stranger," he greeted softly as he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. He loved the way she looked in the morning, looking adorable as she yawned and stretched her limbs, her cheeks turning pink when their noses brushed each other. It was a sight he could never tire of. Never.

His hand continued to card idly through her hair as she moved upwards, tilting her chin upwards until she finally was looking up at him. They remained staring at each other in silence as their eyes roamed over each other, searching for any signs of doubt.

"We should get ready for work."

Then she was out of bed and hurrying to the bathroom, leaving him alone in the bedroom. With a slight frown, he watched her leave and decided not to bother getting up himself.

As she shut the bathroom door behind her, she leaned back against it and breathed deeply, trying to keep herself from breaking down in front of him. If she was going to go through with her plan, she needed to seem unaffected and collected. But there was just so much pressure weighing down on her now, making her unable to breathe. And she knew what she had to do next and that made it all the more painful.

Taking another deep breath, she slowly pushed open the bathroom door and returned to him, sitting back down beside him. He glanced up to meet her gaze and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his thumb rubbing circles on her thigh as he watched her silently. She bit her lip as she took his hand into hers.

"How about breakfast? There's a Dennys down the street."

"Can't we stay in bed forever?"

She smiled at how cute he looked as he asked her the question. He turned to face her fully, his face only centimetres away from hers so she wouldn't be able to miss how he childishly pouted and batted his eyelashes at her.

"You need your breakfast," she countered but he was having none of it. He let out an exaggerated groan causing her to laugh as he flopped onto his back dramatically, throwing his arm over his forehead and closing his eyes. She couldn't help but tease, "Still a big baby, huh?"

He shot his hand up into the air, grabbing her wrist and yanking her downwards till she was against his chest and resting her head against his sternum. He wrapped his arms tightly around her to ensure she couldn't get up again, and if he was being honest with himself, he wanted her to stay exactly where she was forever. After a brief struggle, he managed to stop her, pressing a firm kiss on her cheek and nuzzling his face into the side of her neck, inhaling her sweet vanilla shampoo.

"Okay, okay...I surrender," she giggled as she laid her head on his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms around her.

"Good girl."

"Don't start that now."

"I don't know what you mean."

Total lie.

They spent the morning doing absolutely nothing; just lying around in bed, cuddling, watching TV and laughing. They didn't talk for a while, letting the contentment they shared wash over them like a wave, washing away all the worries and doubts they usually carried with them. For now, they could pretend everything was normal and nothing could change that.

"We really need to get ready for work now, Ade," Y/N murmured, rolling onto her side and reaching for his hand.

"But…" He trailed off, looking down at where she was still tangled in his arms and biting his lip in an effort to appear nonchalant about what he wanted, but she could tell he was dying to stay like this. "What if we stayed like this all day and get fired?" he half joked.

"Come on, out of bed."

"But you're warm and comfortable and here."

Absent-mindedly, she scratched the back of his head as she thought of a way to get him ready for work. Back in the day, they used to do stupid deals in an effort to get the other to do something. "Deal time. What do you want? Anything?" She announced with a mischievous grin plastered on her face. He furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side, his lips pursed together as he tried to think about what he wanted.

After some thought, his eyes lit up with excitement and he scrambled on top of her, pinning her arms either side of her head as he whispered against her ear, "I've missed eating you out," and dragged his nose down her neck. His breath sent chills down her entire body and caused goosebumps to rise on her arms.

She froze at his touch, not daring to breathe, not wanting to give away how much she wanted it to happen. But no, she couldn't. As he slowly moved down her body, his hands travelling where his eyes lingered, she held onto the sides of his head, stopping him in his tracks. "Stop," she murmured as she met his gaze, and he tilted his head at her curiously before he dropped to rest his chin on her stomach.

"Hmm?"

"Stop, please," she whispered hoarsely, blinking away the tears that welled up in her eyes. "I can't... Sex and stuff isn't fun for me anymore. I'm sorry. I know you want..."

His expression morphed into one of disbelief before he abruptly sat upright and frowned at her as he studied her. His eyes were clouded with worry as he regarded her carefully. He reached out and caressed her cheek, wiping away a lone tear that was rolling slowly down her cheek.

"What is it?" he whispered as concern crept into his voice. Not many people got to see Adrian's softer side. To see his genuine curiosity. To experience how utterly caring he truly was and to realise how much he cared about others. How hard he worked to make sure nobody suffered or got hurt, especially not the ones close to him. The people that mattered most in life.

"Let's just say I got the codename Siren for a reason."

His mouth formed an O of surprise as her words struck right through him. He could feel his blood run cold. It was quiet for a moment and it seemed as though even the walls had fallen silent at her confession.

"Waller made you... you know, gather Intel that way?" he questioned tentatively. Her nod was almost imperceptible. "That's fucked up."

A small laugh escaped her and suddenly she found herself being pulled into his arms again, her head cradled gently in his hands as he gazed lovingly at her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he questioned gently. She shook her head and stared straight ahead. "If that's the case, then I won't mention it again. You'll tell me if or when you're ready and I'll kick her fucking ass."

Her shoulders trembled with restrained laughter as he hugged her, rubbing her back soothingly as he waited patiently for her to compose herself.

"I just wish they'd leave us alone already."

It was almost as though she could feel him smiling softly into the side of her head after he said that, kissing her temple before releasing her and moving back from her. She blinked and sat back up, watching him as he stood back up, grabbed his shirt and slipped it over his head.

"Are you ready? We need to leave soon."

"Yeah, I think I am," she replied quietly, rising to her feet and smoothing out her clothes.

They were late but they eventually arrived at work. As they walked in, they received curious glances, but no comment from anyone as they went directly to their desks. They exchanged knowing looks with each other but neither one dared to mention their earlier conversation. Once everyone else started working, they did their best to ignore the tension between them and focused entirely on their jobs, hoping nobody would notice.

Obviously, it was noticed. Especially when Chris arrived and Y/N casually complimented, "Hey, I like your shirt. It looks nice on you."

"Back at you, sugar tits."

Adrian tried to hide it, he did. Snapping the pen in his hand was pretty obvious though. He'd just gotten back on really good terms with Y/N and here Chris was fucking calling her 'sugar tits' in front of him. Y/N glared at him, but there was a hint of amusement glinting in her eye, giving him hope that maybe things weren't that bad in the overall scheme of the universe.

Progress on the Water Buffalo mission was slow for a while. That was until one lead reared its head.

Chapter 2

#Youtube #adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x female reader #peacemaker

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ursulanoodles · 1 year ago

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@molliehaswords tagged me in WIP Wednesday (whenevers day rather lol), so why not?

A random unedited tidbit from a yet-to-be-named upcoming Shane fic that probably won't be posted for another century at this rate.

Meet Briar J. Talbot:

She sprinted through the doors and onto the streets, the cold March morning sunshine blinding her as she turned toward the subway station. Her lungs burned, and her calves were on fire as she jogged down the city sidewalks in her black suede pumps.

“Stop! Police,” a man’s voice boomed behind her, shaking her to her core.

Briar had never meant for things to go this far, but she was at her wit’s end with Joja, with corporate bullshit, with capitalism– all of it. Her outburst had been unexpected even to her, yet here she was running from the fucking cops. She knew she should stop running, yet when she caught a glimpse of the large man hurling himself toward her like a cannonball, her heart jumped into her throat, and she ran even faster.

The subway station would be full of people and she knew if she could make it there and get into a car, she might have a chance of escaping. She bolted across the street, dodging cars as drivers honked at her and screamed out of their windows, and she ducked into the subway station across the street. The stairs were slippery and she weaved around people and swiped her card as she barged through the turnstile. Unfortunately for her, there were no trains and she could barely breathe as a stitch in her side formed into a painful ball that felt like it was stabbing her every time she inhaled. Everyone in the station was gawking at her and backing away, and she realized she must look like an absolute lunatic and tried to calm herself.

“Police,” the same male voice boomed, and she looked up to see him thunder down the steps and jump over the turnstile, an impressive feat for such a large man. Briar panicked, yet again, and headed for the farthest corner, toward a group of people.

“Oh no you don’t! Uh-uh,” a woman said, shaking her head. “She’s over here! I ain’t want nothin’ to do with this crazy bitch,” she yelled.

Briar bolted back toward the turnstiles to see the officer grab something from his belt. For a split second, she thought it was his gun, and her brief thirty years of existence flashed before her eyes until a searing pain jolted through her body and she hit the pavement with a sickening thud as every muscle in her body became incapacitated at once. The electric shock stopped as soon as it had started, and the police officer hovered over her as he flipped her onto her stomach and yanked her hands behind her back, handcuffing her. The cool metal cuffs dug into her wrists and she wanted to cry and kick and scream, but she knew that would only make things worse for herself. This wasn’t her first rodeo and it probably wouldn’t be her last.

“Briar Talbot, you’re under arrest for the vandalization of Joja Corp property. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”

#my oc character #sdv fanfic #sdv oc #stardew valley oc

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juls-writes · 2 years ago

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find the word: combined edition!

I've got lift, blossom, lashes, and dust from @pinespittinink and shrug, see, short, sure, and sign from @awritingcaitlin - thank you and consider this a tagbacksies if you like :3

snippets continue under the cut, all from Bastards Wip! I'll tag @legiomiam, @celestepens, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @mjjune, and anyone else who'd like to play! Your words, should you choose to accept, are drape, empty, care, lips, and sideways

lift

“What’s going on?” Delano presses, his saintly patience driving me up the fucking wall. For just a moment, I miss when we were trying to kill each other. It was easier to deal with him then.

“You saw the duel,” I counter, standing up straight and turning to look at him. “I won. I can stay.”

Delano’s head tilts in a way that says bullshit.

“For a while,” I amend.

A tired smile lifts his cheeks. “There it is.”

blossom

After my tea, I’m feeling better, so I head back outside to finish what I started. The garden is already looking better, but there’s dead blossoms to rid of and weeds to prune.

His footsteps come so calmly at first through the trees that I don’t pick up on it until a moment too late.

“Quaint."

My breath catches. I’m half-obscured in delphinium, one foot in the mud and one on a footstool, garden shears in one hand and a basket in the other. Standing on the path leading out of my garden is Delano.

lashes

I imagine the feeling of the cool morning air against his skin, separated from the warmth he’s exuding; his lashes look all the longer pressed against his cheeks; and his skin up close is ochre and sun-kissed. There’s age on him like there is on me, but he makes it look good. He suits himself far more than he did when he was younger. I envy the way he’s grown into himself – being a man is so effortless to him, and even though I have zero desire to look like him or have his body, I have a moment of distrust to my own experience.

dust

The top of the tower is nondescript. One might wonder why such a room needed a guard at all. The curved walls are lined with curved bookcases, made custom to suit the room, and they’re shrouded in cobwebs and a thick layer of dust. Tattered tapestries shrug off the wall, revealing rain-stained, sun-bleached windowpanes half-cracked and shuddering. At such a height, it seems a miracle the entire tower hasn’t simply filtered away in relentless wind.

shrug

“So I’m a stranger now?” I ask, fighting to keep my composure straight. I can’t forget the reality of my situation.

“You could be,” Delano says with a shrug, then leans in even closer. “You already know I’d call you any name, Yero.”

see

I can still see him standing there in the centre of it, staring out to sea. He’d stepped so as to avoid the lavender and thyme sprouting defiantly from cracks in the bridge, their roots hanging free on the underside. We were 15 then. My father had just passed. I didn’t know that within a week I’d be moving away. I thought I was going to watch Delano fall to his death crossing the Leap, because no one crossed the Leap, and in my mind that meant the first person to try would die. Those were the grand sort of life lessons my parents taught me growing up; one warning after another not to test fate.

short

“That isn’t true,” Ivos says, but I’m right and he’s wrong and there’s this beautiful bit of doubt in his eyes that makes up for him wasting my morning with such godawful conversation. “That’s not true.”

I gesture to the door, raise my eyebrows, and stand from the bed to stare down at him.

“Then by all means, go speak with him.”

Ivos stands. He’s only an inch shorter than me, but it’s all it takes. He glares – doesn’t say a word – and as he leaves, slams the door shut so hard the room shakes in static.

sure

We’re the same age after all, and mid-thirties feels pretty good. Between the two of us, it certainly looks better on him. If anything, he’s in his prime, whereas I’m not sure such a state exists for me. Sorcerers have a tendency of getting stronger and stronger until they plateau, then wither away to nothing.

sign

That’s what every word that describes Delano has in common. Pirate, viking, bounty hunter: danger. Delano: danger. The heat between us is nothing more than a warning sign telling me to stay away. It’s the flash of a cougar’s eyes, the vibrant stripes on a snake’s scales, the sinking sensation in your stomach when staring over the edge of a cliff. And yet I find myself clinging to that heat like I’m freezing – I need it like a hypothermic wants their whiskey – to warm me up, or otherwise burn me from the inside.

#bastards wip #find the word #tag game

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girlcalledwhatsername · 2 years ago

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I posted 3,712 times in 2022

That's 602 more posts than 2021!

146 posts created (4%)

3,566 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@girlcalledwhatsername

@twice-as-many-stars

@zeawesomebirdie

@sleevesareforlosers

@anarchist-mariner

I tagged 1,334 of my posts in 2022

#art - 29 posts

#mcr - 24 posts

#undescribed - 18 posts

#ableism - 17 posts

#my chemical romance - 16 posts

#asks - 15 posts

#literature - 14 posts

#punk - 11 posts

#poetry - 10 posts

#loki - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#and they are getting ready to uphold psychiatry and gaslight you into thinking you have to hand over your agency and autonomy to them ❤️

My Top Posts in 2022:

I think comedy peaked with "My name... is James Acaster. Death comes for us all." why are people still trying

87 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

People with miles long DNIs have quite some nerve interacting wily nily with my posts without checking and realising I fall in their dni category like, ten times over. Babe if you need such a huge list of people to not even look your way, one would think you would be more careful about not interacting with such people yourself yet here you are, putting horrid tags on my posts and subjecting me to rancid takes in the dni if I click further.

92 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

It bothers me still that Andy Samberg and Jack Black amongst others fully participated in the Color the Spectrum campaign even though autistic adults who have followed these figures tried to bring to their attention the fact that fundraisers promoting ABA are ableist conversion-therapy funding bullshit that don't even involve any actual autistic people having any say in it. And it bothers me further that supposedly progressive people keep hyping up these figures and these seems little backlash that's big enough for them to even notice. This isn't to shame people who admire these celebrities, there's always going to be some "unproblematic white man" celebrity or another that the internet latches onto, and I'd go so far as to not even immediately assume anything other than ignorance on the part of these two men, but the fact is that the most influence that can be had is from their own fanbase.

I wish the people who post so much about Black and Samberg hyping them up all the time and bring up School of Rock in every other conversation would devote some time at least to join in those autistic voices that had tried to reach out to these very influential men. People like these who are seen as paragons of virtue while having a huge following could make a huge difference in ending the honestly torturous techniques that these ABA therapies are developing. Y'all talk a big game about holding people accountable but it only ever follows after someone already pisses you off and it's always about punishing people rather than trying to change their behaviour in a way that actually benefits marginalised folk.

Calling out ableism isn't just for vague old tweets from some small creator whom you found cringe, it's also for celebrities you actively like whose involvement in these movements has major impacts. Read what autistic people have said about ABA if you aren't aware, but surely if you believe these idols to be the good people that they are, they would be willing to learn to be better? Or do us autistics have to wait for them to do something cringe till you will get mad enough to bring it up?

272 notes - Posted September 2, 2022

Me, hyping myself up to stop zoning out just long enough to get in bed: come on, come on, be brave, come on, we can do this, please, it has been thirty minutes and it's cold, look at the blanket it will be so nice there, come on,

273 notes - Posted January 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

🍂This user is always happy to see ao3 surpass their donation goals btw.🍂

This user is glad to see publically-funded archives of all kinds and especially those with a history of standing against censorship, especially fully volunteer-run ones with artists generously sharing their works for free, especially well organised ones that I respect the hell out of.

2,327 notes - Posted October 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#mildly embarassing #blogs i rb'd the most we are friends now ok?

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homenecromancer · 8 months ago

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I’m very very used to my posts getting three notes / having an audience for my fandom bullshit that consists of about twenty people, so getting mugged by Dune Fixation Part Two and actually getting notes on my posts about it has been, uh, a huge surprise

For the most part we are faceless collections of pixels making posts on the internet at each other, but to pull back the curtain a little for those who don’t already know me: my personal life is a little grim and fairly fucked-up, so I seek happiness by getting really into books. At this time I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to get into very serious discussions, broadly speaking.

I am also a person in their thirties who is in fandom, and has been for a long time. “eww cringe you’re so oooold grossss go do your taxes” attitudes are not something I’m going to engage with. Dune, specifically, has been very special to me for a very long time, and I’m happy to share that joy with other people - whether they’re also old heads, or if they got dragged into seeing the movie by someone else last week.

I keep seeing people in the tag who are, like, trying to start fights by relitigating discussions people have been having about Dune since 1963. To this, my answer is: if someone’s reaction to seeing other people post memes is “DISGUSTING, PEOPLE ARE SO CLUELESS ABOUT THIS WHITE SAVIOR NARRATIVE—” my response is a laugh and scrolling right by that post. Frank Herbert was an American Republican of a type that’s almost extinct today. He would hate me. I know this. I have known this for years. I enjoy the fictional world he created, despite its flaws, and his flaws. Believe me: I am anything but clueless about the various issues of the Duniverse.

But I’m only really here for the joy.

Anyway I made this post so I can just point to it if it becomes necessary. Which I hope it will not. But if someone ever does ask “why don’t you want to talk about [x] flaw with Dune?”, this is the post I’ll link if I’m feeling patient. If I’m not, it’s gonna be a thousand-word recap of all my personal issues.

#personal #it’s also incredibly funny to see people hop in the Dune tag #and start screaming at other people for the problematic ships #the elevator pitch for the first book involves eugenics. you should know what you signed up for.

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grison-in-space · 9 months ago

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I'll just fill out my own read more here, @gosuperdonnie: I never mind things being out in the open, but I deeply appreciate the care for privacy and I want to make sure I can respect yours back by redacting anything you'd like. Anyway, none of this is going to make any sense without the context of your bit. I heavily encourage my followers to read your full post.

No, really, doxxing holds no terrors for me: I write here under the cheerful assumption that I can be easily identified with the right context, and the main reason I have switched names even ONCE since 2007 is that I, uh, very publicly flipped off a pack of MRAs using both my real name and my last pseud, it got pretty viral, and I was kind of concerned it might get big enough that some chucklefuck might try to SWAT me or dig out the AO3 account to wave at a boss. Never happened, and I care even less now. I get the doxxing concerns and I am gratified by the care and kindness with which you've approached me, a stranger, after I was rather rude to you: I totally did use your comment as a launching pad to think about the shared sphere of our work, invoking both of our shared communities, and then I plastered it all over everywhere you'd be likely to see assuming we shared the same primary social network (ie tags, which I almost never do). Which I did not consider because, frankly, I'm a thirty something millennial who had long since assumed all the youths had decamped to cooler, greener pastures. This says way worse things about my manners than yours.

Truly. I get exactly why you were embarrassed and pissed. I did, without thinking about it, a pretty rude thing socially! For that, I apologize.

Okay, that little mortification out of the way:

My memory is also awful, but what you're saying sounds about right to me. I think you did provide that context about IDD spaces, because I was smiling and nodding along to it and thinking about how true it is: how even among those of us who can contort ourselves into passing without supports or even acknowledgement, I have seen a lot of neurodivergent people just collapse out of graduate programs, usually either from burnout or (disproportionately commonly) being actively targeted for bad treatment by a mentor. I've been around the block a time or eight and I have observed a lot of bad behavior in a range of fields.

Academia is not exactly an accessible profession. It relies incredibly heavily on the affirmation of relational networks and requires a level of investment that presumes a full time spouse-caregiver, a role for which it does not pay. Those relational networks are prone to abuse and distortion at the best of times. My PhD left grievous scars because my relationship with a supervisor crashed and burned for reasons impossible to untangle from our mutual neurodivergency. Like most people, I find myself hyperattuned to my own experiences and viewpoint, you feel? So that's what I was talking about as I was thinking out loud to myself.

The things you're hearing in your IDD/higher support communities come from true experiences, too! That's actually a branch of neurodiversity politics I happen to share! Like, that's the political end of the quote unquote movement that I align with, thanks. I'm uncomfortable with my animal research models self on that panel, too! The only reason I was willing to go into this field while, I have to stress this very much, desperate, terrified, and in the most severely damaged mental health of my life is that my PI agrees with me that most of the animal autism model work is bullshit and frequently goes on rants about marble burying!

Here's a little of my context: I've been consciousness raising and trying to build networks of support among disabled academics for something like seven years. The past two years of my postdoc have been literally the first time in my life that hasn't involved tightly compartmentalizing my life about my neurodivergence and closely guarding who gets to know what. Fuck, it's been like desperately pretending not only to be straight around all the other players in the professional women's soccer team, but also pretending that there are no other queers in the league either!

The observation you were making was poignant, accurate, and clear. Your broader point was eminently understandable and relatable. Let me just underscore that again: that context is important and worth discussing. I picked up the tip of that glacier that set me thinking and toddled off with it because your critique was true, valuable, and not new to me: I was chewing my thoughts over, and it didn't occur to me to go over the parts that I had already integrated. That does not mean that it was a bad idea to make that critique again. Not everyone has heard it yet, and not everyone understands its implications. And being reminded is always useful, too.

I also agree wholeheartedly that the project of including more IDD folks in the room is a wholly different thing from just throwing more neurodivergent folks at it. In no way do I want to dismiss that! You have zero reason or context to know this about me, but I believe strongly that passing is an important inflector of marginalized experiences because it's a powerful tool that comes at enormous cost. So if you want to understand marginalization from all angles, you need to be talking to people with a wide range of options to pass: people who cannot pass tend to be more keenly attuned to the consequences of being perceived as marginalized while people who can act so tend to be more attuned to the consequences of being isolated from anyone who could perceive them. Do you see what I mean?

And that means that you have to be including people who can't pass long enough to make the credentials at every level of your field, including conceptualization of the goals of the field of study. Which is what I pulled from your commentary, and—yes! Of course! So obvious that it was just a pleasure to hear it articulated and agree!

When I was a kid, the decision my mom made was to literally train me like a performing seal if that was what was necessary to avoid anyone Finding Out about me. I was explicitly and repeatedly scolded for even talking about it well into adolescence. I used to have a lot more brainpower at my disposal, so I more or less could, up until I hit my thirties right into COVID... when I hit burnout really, really bad. I am actually coping with becoming significantly more visibly disabled because I can't always maintain passing anymore, and that's always a journey. I have been performing that mask nonstop for long enough to be hitting the long slumps and crashes that many of my peers describe. It's a mask that must be glued to the face each day and ripped off at night, leaving irritation and exhaustion in its wake, but it lets me go places and achieve things I might not have been able to do otherwise.

Unrelated, but I was just complaining the other day that no one seems to know about Jim Sinclair these days. What a clear eyed, clear headed writer and thinker they are. I should try to knock together some kind of neurodivergence reading group again; I haven't had a chance to try and organize such a thing in Psychology but I had a really wonderful conversation last spring with Dr Williams over in the CDSC and it would be so nice to connect more directly on a regular basis...

Losing it is terrifying.

Also, let's be frank: I assumed you were talking way more to your classmates, continuing with them on a meta-conversation that a random like me doesn't have full context for, than like. TO me.

Your program of research sounds, bluntly, desperately needed and incredibly valuable. And way, way more likely to change things immediately for the positive for folks on the ground than mine. I'm so sorry people have told you that your work isn't worth doing or interesting; I won't pretend I'm surprised but I want to underscore that those people are fools. I'm incredibly glad and gratified that folks like you are here. I thought about working on autism from a psych or neuroscience perspective before I graduated undergrad, but I decided against it then and went for animal behavior because I found the experience of reading the autism literature too dehumanizing. I am so genuinely delighted and impressed that you can be here, getting your foot in the door to do this work. If I had any connections to people who know what they're doing re giving your precious, precious perspective a place to set root, I would give them to you immediately.

The work I'm currently doing mostly involves building up enough expertise and credit with mainstream "autism researchers", especially in the animal model world, to carve for myself a platform upon which to perch while I shriek invective at much of the rest of that field. I think it's necessary work, too—they do have a lot of money and power—but it's a longer game and it also relies on not collapsing and letting the academic PTSD win.

But yes: I am so sorry I didn't craft my post with the understanding that you might see it and correctly recognize yourself in mind. I would have provided a lot more context, for one thing! I hope that gives you context for the direction of my commentary the other week. Regardless, thank you for all the subsequent food for thought and for such a gracious comment in an awkward situation.

yesterday's talk to the neurodivergency activism program also included a fun "ethics in research on neurodivergence" panel conversation at the end when one person expressed this real frustration with the academy: that it's so unfriendly to neurodivergent people who can't navigate the social structures of academia, and it is so frustrating to this person to know that they want to go back to school and get the PhD but it's so unfriendly to neurodivergent people--

bear in mind, I'm the only openly neurodivergent researcher on the panel and by far the most junior (the others are all established faculty), plus I do animal research which is probably as far from the rather clinical focus of the folks in that program as humanly possible. and I've discussed openly how relational academia is, and how much it relies on the approval of your supervisors. we've even had a nice conversation about the same thing in clinical practice.

but I'm sitting here going... you know what, the interpersonal fuckery that almost ended my career actually was a result of blundering into another neurodivergent person's unacknowledged shame spiral, actually? you know that neurotypical research PIs are a distinct minority in my experience? you know that this is an incredibly dysfunctional institution, I ain't arguing that, but it's also one that has been by and large built for, by, and around neurodivergent people's needs and desires?

it's just they don't know it, so if you talk about it openly you get panic reactions. but it's so, so, so funny to see. (as I expanded on this theme the lady I liked best, a black woman working on intersections between developmental disabilities, race, and access to health care, is just grinning SO wide and almost giggling to herself.) you label yourself and people go OH NO A LABEL but if you know how to see the shape of the thing the label is supposed to describe, you can see that they oughta have a label, too.

so on the one hand, real consequences for being too open about yourself, but on the other hand, things actually have gotten so much better in the last 5-10 years. and on the gripping hand, just being in a space with only other neurodivergent people does not necessarily fix the problem of inadequate communication, hurt feelings, bad relationships with power, and weird insecurities. it just doesn't fix it. what works is understanding how to resolve conflicts, building structures that are less reliant on single dyadic relationships, and finding alternate ways to make connections with scholars in your field.

dammit, this means I should probably poke my bluesky again. fff.

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m-jelly · 3 years ago

Note

Hi jelly how are you? Hope you are ok.

What about Levi and Reader where there's an age gap not that creepy but she's in her early twenties and he's in his early thirties and nobody knows that there's something going on 👀 and I don't know hahaha something more funny and fluffy plis have a nice day!🤭😘

Hiii! I'm good, thank you. I do hope you're alright too! Ten years year gap is not a problem (thank you for saying the reader is in her 20s).

It's a secret.

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Genre and tags: canon AU, romance, secret love, fluff, Hange is the only suspicious one, stealing moments together.

Concept: You and Levi seem to get on well and you're close, which has Hange wanting you two to be together, but you both keep proving her wrong. Hange sees you and Levi around other people and her suspicions about the two of you slowly vanish. However, she is right. You and Levi are in a passionate relationship, you're just very professional in front of others and Levi really enjoys winding Hange up.

18+ stuff below. On top of the clothes things, teasing and a lot of swearing.

You walked with Hange as you looked through your papers for Levi. You glanced up at her and raised your brow. "Why are you following me?"

She huffed. "I know you are dating someone! I know it. I can feel it in my bones."

You shook your head. "I'm not dating anyone."

"You've had sex recently."

You smirked. "Maybe I'm just very good solo."

She blushed bright red, then hummed. "Maybe..."

You approached Levi as he shouted commands at the cadets as they trained. "Levi, I have some papers for you."

Levi put his hand on your upper back and looked at the work. "Tch, more bullshit?"

"Don't shoot the messenger."

He took the papers and sighed as he looked them over. "Oh, you've broken it down for me."

You nodded and pointed at different parts and explained. "Sound good?"

He hummed. "Yeah. Tch, still bullshit. Alright, I'll implement the changes."

"Appreciate it. I don't want my ass to be chewed because you don't want to follow the rules."

Levi glared at you as you walked off. "Tch, oi! Watch your fucking mouth, you pencil-pushing brat!"

You flipped him off. "Go fuck yourself."

He stomped his foot. "Get back here and say that to my face!"

Hange frowned a little at how you and Levi were. "Wow. I didn't know you two were at each other's throats."

You hummed as you walked with her. "Well, seeing me means paperwork. I'm your communication line. You give me stuff for the other squads and the crown and they give me stuff. I get so much shit that when someone is like that asshole, I just tell them to go fuck themselves."

Hange pouted a little because she was really hoping that you and Levi were a couple. She followed you for the rest of the day and joined you for dinner. She stared at Levi next to Erwin, then she looked at you across from her as you ate and signed papers.

Hange sighed, then groaned and said your name after. "You sure you're not dating Levi?"

You nodded. "Very sure. He and I would never work." You looked up at Hange. "Would you like to date a stressed out, barely sleeps, grumpy, and tea obsessed virgin?"

Levi slammed his fist down. "Says the work-obsessed, stuck up, pompous, snot-nosed brat. I wouldn't touch you even if my life depended on it."

You smirked. "Well, thank the heavens it doesn't. You don't even know what a vagina looks like, so I'm good."

Hange slammed her head against the table. "I'm wrong. I'm wrong. I thought...what a fool I am."

You watched Levi get up and walk off. "It's okay to be wrong." You finished your work, then cleaned up. "You walking me back Hange?"

She grumbled. "Sure." She dragged her heels as she walked with you. "Stupid."

You hummed a laugh. "You can't win everything. I'm flattered that you think I'm with humanity's strongest, but I'm too young for him. Go get some rest."

"Okay."

You let her walk ahead of you. You gasped when a hand covered your mouth, then you were yanked into a closet.

Hange stopped and turned. "Hey, so..." She frowned and said your name. "Must have forgotten something."

You breathed heavily through your nose as your back was held against a familiar warm chest that you loved exploring. You moaned when a loving hand popped a button, then slipped into your shirt and ran over your sensitive skin. You shivered when you felt a crotch rub against your bum. You were on fire with desire.

You turned your head and gazed at your lover, Levi. You hummed at him to release your mouth. You smiled when he moved his hand, then he kissed you. "Levi."

He nipped your neck making you giggle. "You know, I should punish you for all the shit you said to me."

You hummed a laugh as you reached back and tangled your fingers in his hair. "You were just as bad."

He turned you around, then shoved you against the door. "Was I now?"

You nodded as you nibbled your lip and felt a fire burn inside you. "I was a little hurt."

He pulled your shirt from your trousers, then pushed his hands up your waist. "Tch, least I didn't call you a tea obsessed virgin."

You wrapped your arms around his neck. "It was just playful banter. You and I both know that you are far from a virgin."

He pushed one hand up to your breast and massaged. "You've taught me well."

You panted and hummed as you felt heat build up between your legs. "You just listen to my body and me. You're a good man and I love you."

Levi kissed you, then nipped your lip and pushed his tongue into your mouth. He took your breath away as his tongue moved with yours and explored your mouth. Your head was fuzzy from the passion and love that came from him. It didn't help that he pressed his knee against the door right between your legs.

You pulled back from his lips and smiled. "I've always loved you and you know that."

He tapped his forehead against yours. "I love you too. I'm hopelessly in love with you, but Hange can never know."

You snorted a laugh. "Deal."

#captain levi #levi #fanfic #levi ackerman #levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #snk levi #aot levi #levi x y/n #levi x you #aot x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader

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kpop---scenarios · 3 years ago

Text

Cravings || One

Pairing: Vampire! Hongjoong x Reader

Warning: None Yet

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: If you would like to be tagged, let me know!

"Babe, hey babe." Your boyfriend, Chad calls out to you, as you're sitting at the kitchen table, running over over bills again and trying to figure out how the fuck you're going to try to pay everything. You worked damn hard, and barely had anything to show for it. Ever since Chad had moved in a few months ago, without an invitation, you were stressed. Everything had gone up and doubled since he hadn't left, and he also hadn't contributed anything financially towards the household. You paid for rent, utilities, groceries and you even paid when the two of you went out for dinner. Chad worked full time, but where his money was going, you had no fucking idea. He constantly went out with his 'boys' , often coming home obliterated, and just expecting you to have your legs spread open for him when he rolled in, apparently that was your duty as his girlfriend, according to him. As if not contributing and acting like a man child was such a turn on. Not to mention the countless hours he spent on your gaming console, yelling and talking to his friends, leaving you no time to play any games that you like, unless you wanted to wake up a few hours before you had to work to sneak on it. But by the time you got home from work, cleaned up the messes he made throughout the day, made yourself dinner, showered and got into your PJ'S, you were too damn tired to do anything. You knew you had to wake up the next day and do it all over again, so any sleep you got was precious.

A part of you often wondered why you were in this relationship with him. Maybe you were scared to be alone, maybe you didn't think you could do any better than him, but you stuck with him, because for some reason, you loved the guy.

"What do you want, Chad?" You sigh, walking into the living room where he's sprawled out on the couch, headset on and his match paused. "I'm trying to figure out bills, you know that thing that keeps us warm, and with light and hot water, that you said you'd help pay and haven't."

"Yeah, babe, can you go to the corner store and get those Takis, you know the ones I like? The not so spicy ones though babe, cause remember I have acid reflux, and a diet coke." He says, turning back to the screen, laughing at something said through his head phones.

You could feel the rage building up inside of you, awfully quick, and it was seeping out of you even quicker.

"Are you going to pay for said snacks?" You ask, trying to keep your voice calm.

"What?" He laughs. "Babe, no, come on. I'm broke. I don't get paid again for two weeks. You know this."

"You just got paid yesterday." You breathe through gritted teeth. "Where the hell did all your money go?" You ask, your hands balled into fists.

"You know babe, I had the fantasy football league entry, plus I owed Kyle money for the keg bomber last weekend, and I took the boys out for supper yesterday. Shit adds up." He says, never looking at you, only focusing on the game.

"And that's my problem, why exactly? Why is it always on me just because you're not financially stable. Grow up, you're 35 for christ sakes!" You yell. You stomp to the kitchen, grabbing your purse and slipping on your shoes before heading back into the living room.

"Yeah, she's got her shoes and purse." He laughs. "She's definitely going to get my stuff."

"You know what Chad? I'm definitely not going to get your snacks, get your own fucking snacks, Chaaad. I'm going for a drink, with my own goddamn money." You spit, storming out of the house.

You're wandering down the street, like you had been for the last thirty five minutes, and finally you found somewhere that looked decent enough. You walk in, and the lights are on very low, the place is almost dark, had it not been for the red lights swinging above tables, or the string of red lights wrapping around the ceiling. Your eyes wander the open floor of seating as a soft beat vibrates through the building. Every person in here who was sitting with someone was leaning closely to that person, seemingly having an intense conversation. The vibes felt dark and eerie, but you welcomed it, you enjoyed it instead of being around Chad's fuck boy mentality. You walk towards the bar, sliding onto one of the empty bar stools and setting your purse on your lap. Your eyes were looking down when you felt a presence standing in front of you. You look up and see quite possibly the most beautiful man you have ever seen.

"What can I get for you?" He asks, his voice is deep, yet so smooth and calming.

"Double vodka and coke please, and for the love of god, keep them coming." You sigh. After your comment you see the slightest hint of a smile appear on his lips, disappearing even quicker than it came.

"Bad day?" He asks, beginning to pour your drink.

"Bad relationship." You groan. He nods his head as he slides your drink towards you.

"Wanna talk about it?" He asks, leaning on the bar with his chin resting on his hands as he waits for you to speak. You look into his eyes, and they're so warm and mesmerizing, you felt safe and secure, like you could tell him anything. Which is exactly what you did.

"What's your name?" You ask.

"Hongjoong." He replies. "You?"

"Y/N."

"Okay Y/N, what's bothering you?"

"My boyfriend, we've been together for just over a year, and well.. he's something, and not the good something like people usually say. He moved in with me, without even asking me if I wanted to, and I just kind of accepted it. He doesn't pay anything, no bills, rent, groceries, nothing. It's all on me, even though he does work full time. He forgot my birthday, went out and got absolutely plastered with his 'boys'. On Valentine's Day, he took me out for dinner, and can you guess who was there?" You ask.

"His boys?" He answered.

"You sir, are correct. I was ignored the entire evening, and then he and his boys left, I ended up paying the bill, and I had to uber home because he had driven us there. Not to mention the fact that he assumes I'm just there for his pleasure, expecting me to be spread eagle for him whenever he decides to show up." You finish, chugging your drink as you try not to gag on the strong taste of vodka.

"Why are you with him then? He doesn't sound like he contributes to the relationship at all, so why do you stay?" He asks.

'Honestly, I'm not entirely sure." You answer as he slides another drink in front of you.

"Now that's a bullshit excuse." He replies. "There's a reason that you clearly don't want to admit."

"Do you ever smile?" You ask him.

"No." He answers. "Now, why won't you leave him?"

"Because it's safe, I guess? I don't know if I can do any better than him." You shrug.

"Y/N, you have no idea how much better you could do." He says.

From the moment Hongjoong had a whiff of the scent that was coming into his bar, he knew that it was the scent of the one. He intensely watched the door, waiting for the one it belonged too to walk through the door. As soon as you did, it was almost as though his heart could have started beating once again, the ice cold blood that ran through his body could have turned warm just by the sight of you. He isn't sure what it is about you, but he had always been told that he would know when he found the one, and having been alive for over a century, he had just assumed that it wasn't in the cards for him, and now he knows why. Because all his life he had been waiting for you. The person that he would do anything for, the person that he would be anything for had finally walked into his life, and for once he felt an ounce of hope, until, you had mentioned the filthy human you were in a relationship with, not to mention one that treated you like absolute garage, and you had assumed that no one better would love you, but shit were you ever wrong. He was standing right in front of you, and though you had just met him, he loved you with everything he had and would do anything and everything to protect you.

"I appreciate your advice, Hongjoong, but it's getting late and I have to work tomorrow." You sigh. "How much do I owe you?" You ask, grabbing your card from your wallet.

"It's on me." He tells you, grabbing your empty glass.

"Well thank you." You smile. "It was nice meeting you." You tell him as you slide off the stool.

"You too." He says, watching you walk away from him.

That night when you got home, you couldn't get Hongjoong off your mind, a smile spread across your face as you walked through your front door, and headed into the living room, then it instantly dropped. Chad had not moved from the spot you had previously left him in a few hours ago. "Oh, babe." He says, sucking the cheeto dust from his fingers. "Kyle brought me some snacks, since you threw a huge temper tantrum about my snacks, you can just venmo or cash app him, k?" He says, going back to playing his game.

You went to bed that night, dreaming of one man, who was not your man.

Over the next few weeks, you had absolutely no desire to be at home. So you headed to the bar that Hongjoong worked at, everyday after work for a drink, or two, or four. In those weeks the two of you spent an ample amount of time getting to know each other, you were sure he knew you better than Chad ever did. You didn't want to see Chad, you didn't want to be near him and it was bad enough that he constantly texted you throughout the day, sending you lists of things to buy from the grocery store, as if he wasn't able to do it himself. But much to your surprise, he didn't text you when you never came home with his snacks, he didn't check in with you throughout the day, and honestly it no longer bothered you.

You felt your feelings for Hongjoong deepen with every encounter the two of you had, every time you saw him it was like nothing you had ever felt with Chad, your emotions were amplified around Hongjoong and you weren't sure how much longer you could keep them hidden.

"One more." You tell Hongjoong, as you set down your fourth glass.

You can tell he wants to smile, but he's too good at controlling his emotions. "You've had enough, I'm cutting you off." He tells you.

You pout, trying to give him your best puppy dog eyes, but absolutely nothing got to the man and it was frustrating as fuck.

"A bad storm is coming, you should probably get home." He tells you, drying off some glasses.

"I don't want to go home, he's there." You scoff, just thinking about Chad made you want to vomit. "I guess I could just get a motel room, at that place across the street." You say, pointing over to the run down motel, that had flickering lights, and probably a rat and cockroach infestation.

"You will do no such thing." Hongjoong replies. "You can stay at my place." He says. "Give me a minute." He walks from around the bar, towards the back of the building, and you can't help but to turn in your stool and watch him walk away, damn he looks good.

Within seconds he's back, grabbing your bag and scooping you up into his arms as he effortlessly carries you out the door.

"I can walk." You object.

"I know." He says, his face stone cold.

"You're very pale." You tell him, as if he didn't know.

"I know." He replies, unlocking the door to his car.

"And you're very cold." You say.

He sighs. "I know." He finishes as he slides you into the passenger seat of his car.

As soon as he started his car, the rain began pouring as thunder and lightning jolted the sky.

"You were right, there's a storm." You say, watching out your window.

"I know." He replies, this time it sounded different. You turned to look at him, hoping you'd catch him smiling but no such luck.

He continues driving, taking you out into the middle of nowhere, out of city limits, this was it, this was probably when you died. You panicked slightly but you felt it in your entire body that he was not going to murder you, at least not that night.

Hongjoong pulls up to a gate, punching in a few numbers to open the gate, which just blocked off a winding road. You squinted as you tried to see where you were going but it was far too dark for you to see anything, until you pulled up to a beautiful mid-century mansion that made your mouth drop. It was absolutely stunning and you couldn't believe that he lived there.

"Seriously? This is where you live?" You say.

"MY family, but yeah." He answers, parking the car near the entrance.

He hops out of his seat, walking towards your side to open the door for you, pulling you inside before you get too wet. He dragged you up a large flight of stairs, not letting you admire the inside of his house. He put you inside a large room, with a large bed and a bathroom ensuite. "There's towels if you want to shower, I'll be back in a bit to check on you." He says, avoiding all eye contact before walking out of the room.

You let out a deep breath as you take off your heels, unbutton your pants and unhook your bra, placing it all next to the bed. You sit down on the bed in your underwear and t-shirt, wondering what to do, until your phone rings.

Looking at the caller ID, you didn't want to answer it, but you felt it would be unfair for you to do so.

"Hello?" You answer.

"Hey babe, it's me.. it's Chad." He says.

"I know who it is." You sigh.

"Look.. I know you've been terrible, oh, wait, I mean I've been terrible in our relationship lately but I want to make almonds." He says. "No idiot, it's amends." You hear from the background.

"Are you kidding me right now? Do you seriously have Brad over to help you?" You yell.

"Well yeah, he noticed that we were drifting apart and offered to help me get you back." Chad explains.

You get up off the bed, pacing on the hardwood floors as you tried to process what he just said to you.

"The fact that you didn't even notice that we were drifting apart is all that I need to hear. You know what, Chad? I'm done. I'm done with this relationship, I'm done with you. Just get out of my apartment, I'm over it." You yell, hanging up the phone.

You stand there, taking deep breaths as you replay the conversation you just had, he didn't even care enough to notice that you'd been pulling away. That kind of hurt, but then again it was Chad. He was never very perceptive.

A knock at the door before it suddenly opens, reveals Hongjoong, walking into the room. He tried to play it cool with the fact that you were practically naked in front of it.

"I heard yelling. You okay?" He asks as lightning strikes, causing the power to flicker.

"Chad called, he had his friend Brad over to feed him lines because Brad noticed we were drifting apart." You explain. "But I did it. I ended things." You proudly admit.

"Good for you." He says, staring at you, while you stare back at him. A crack of thunder hits loudly, making you jump, and within seconds Hongjoong's arms are wrapped around you, like he was protecting you. You look at him and he looks at you, and before you can tell yourself not to, your lips are pressed against him, and he is kissing you back.

The kiss turns passionate and needy in seconds, both of your desires for one another coming out without any control. He moves you both to the bed, laying you down as he hovers over you, his strong arms keeping him above you. You wrap your arms and legs around him, pulling his body closer to yours, feeling him near was all you'd wanted. His ice cold fingers touch your stomach as he begins to lift your shirt up, you can feel his cock slowly becoming harder. You begin lifting his shirt, when his phone rings. He stands up, whispering an apology before answering his phone, barely speaking any words.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I have some things to take care of." He says.

"Oh, yeah, no problem." You say, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Get some sleep." He tells you before walking out of the bedroom door, leaving you alone once again.

You tried to fight the exhaustion you felt, but it was far too hard. You got snuggled underneath the blankets, watching the door, hoping he would come back but your eyelids got too heavy for you to keep open, and you swiftly drifted off to sleep, finally feeling some peace.

The warm sun was shining into the room, waking you up. You let out a little stretch before opening your eyes, only to see five men standing around you. You sit up, moving to the wall, as these men stare at you. You looked at them all, and they all looked similar to Hongjoong. Pale skin, dark eyes, dark head, blood red lips.

"Who are you?" One of them asks.

"Y/N." You whisper.

Another one speaks up, looking at the other four men. "Who the fuck brought a human home?"

#kpopscape #noonasinnetwork #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #vampire hongjoong #ateez #vampire ateez #ateez imagines #ateez smut #hongjoong smut #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop writing #kpop icons #kpop imagines #kpop smut

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tchallasbabymama · 3 years ago

Text

Don't Forget About Us

Hello, my lovelies. Here’s my contribution to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes smut challenge (the prompt is in bold!) Let’s see what Erik’s up to now, shall we?

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me, so make sure to let me know what you think! And let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my writing. Enjoy😘

Word count: 5,595

CW: smut...duh.

youtube

“So, what do you do for a living?”

Kayla sighed internally at the question and took a sip of her Pinot Grigio. She hated first dates with a burning passion, but unfortunately, that was the only way to find a man around here. She went through the motions of politely answering his questions, barely asking any of her own. She didn’t care. Even just fifteen minutes in, Kayla could tell he didn’t excite her, and she lamented the waste of a good outfit as she listened to him drone on about his life. Every now and then, he’d stop and ask a question about her, but she could tell he was only asking so he could talk more about himself.

How many siblings do you have?

What’s your sign?

Why did your last relationship end?

Her mind traveled to her ex-boyfriend, Erik Stevens. They had spent six blissful years together, and Kayla thought he was the one. She wanted them to get married and start a family, and she thought he did, too, but every time she brought it up, he’d find some excuse to change the subject. At thirty years old, Kayla wasn’t getting any younger, so she grew tired of his avoidance and eventually cut him loose. She needed more out of life, but the guy currently sitting across from her certainly wasn’t it.

“We wanted different things,” she answered vaguely and took another sip. It would be a long night with what’s-his-name. David? Devon? Whatever. At least he had money and took her to a nice restaurant.

Darryl took the opportunity to bore her with the details of his job, which Kayla already knew. He was a colleague of her best friend, Carina’s husband. They worked at the same law firm, and Carina decided to hook them up after tiring of hearing Kayla complain about dating apps. As much as Kayla hated Tinder, she would’ve much rather been at home on her couch swiping left on the cesspool of single men Oakland had to offer. Every few dozen swipes or so, she’d find a cutie, but his bio would be abysmal, or his conversation skills would fall flat.

Despite the fact that their relationship just couldn’t make it, Kayla still thought of Erik as the gold standard. Just thinking about his dimples and his struggle beard made her smile dreamily. His big, strong arms would wrap around her and hold her tight at night, and she’d trace her fingers over the intentionally placed keloid scars that held his darkest secrets. She missed retwisting his locs and the way he always smelled like sandalwood and warm vanilla. Kayla didn’t want to admit it, but she still loved him. No man could compare to her Erik.

“Hello? Kayla?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Can you repeat that last part?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What’s got you so distracted, babygirl?”

Kayla fought the bile rising in her throat. She wasn’t his babygirl. It didn’t even sound right coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the thinness of his lips. They weren’t “white man” thin, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the juicy pussy pleasers she had grown accustomed to.

“Nothing, just thought I saw somebody I know. You were saying?”

“Just that you look beautiful tonight,” Damon attempted to flirt with her.

Kayla wanted to roll her eyes but thanked him instead and smiled politely again. Of course she looked beautiful; she had pulled out all the stops for what she had hoped would be a good night out. Kayla had squeezed her thickness into a lavender satin dress. The way the dress’s skirt cinched on the side kept it snug around her plush waist, but the high slit that traveled up her thigh was the main attraction. The strappy silver heels on her feet showed off her matching pedicure that contrasted beautifully with her glistening brown skin, and her makeup was flawless. Her outerwear for the night, a cropped fur jacket that had found its way to the coat check when they arrived, was the icing on the cake. Her outfit deserved the appreciation, just not from Deshawn.

The waiter saved her from having to focus on her date when she brought out the food they had ordered. Since Kayla knew Derek had money, she had ordered the whole lobster, and she fought her mouth from drooling too much as the waiter set it down in front of her. It laid on a bed of forbidden rice, and the side of roasted brussels sprouts and cremini mushrooms looked heavenly. The ramekin of drawn butter off to the side tempted her as it sat next to the minuscule seafood fork. She may not enjoy her company for the evening, but Kayla damn sure was going to enjoy her meal.

“Looks good,” Dominic called from the other side of the table, breaking Kayla from her trance as he cut into his wagyu beef.

“Sure does.” Kayla wasted no time before digging into her meal. Not only was it the perfect excuse to avoid conversation, but it was perfect, period.

A slight chill permeated the air as the door swung open and the crisp January air entered the small restaurant. Kayla shivered as she complained internally about being forced to sit near the door, but that shiver intensified as she heard a voice. His voice.

“Reservation for Stevens, please.”

Kayla stilled.

“Of course. Right this way, sir,” the maitre d’ responded, and Kayla heard three sets of footsteps coming her way.

--------

“Babe, let’s go!”

“Yell at me one more time, woman,” Erik warned as he came around the corner into the living room, fastening his watch.

“I swear, you take more time getting ready than I do.”

“Whatever, Mo. You ready?”

“Nigga, I been ready!”

Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys. It would be a rough night, and things were already starting off on a bad foot. He and Monique had been seeing each other for the better part of a year, and he’d finally reached his limit. She was overbearing, rude, and just after him for his money, but he hated being alone, so he put up with her bullshit. His cousin, T’Challa, had tried to hook him up with a few ladies back in Wakanda when he went to visit after his breakup, but nothing stuck. Almost immediately after coming back to the states, Erik met Monique at a charity event for the Outreach Center. She had the singing voice of an angel and had been booked as the entertainment for the evening. Erik was drawn to her like a sailor to a siren, and she immediately sank her teeth into him. Past her vocal talents, Monique wasn’t really anything special. Her personality left a lot to be desired, she wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, and she just wasn’t her.

The moment Kayla ended their relationship a year ago, Erik’s whole world shattered. He had lived a life full of pain and loss, but Kayla had been his lifeline. She pulled him out of the dark and made him revel in the sunshine. Hell, she was the sunshine, but now he had settled for a UV lamp at best. Kayla had wanted a life that Erik was too scared to give her, but that fear became his downfall. He still missed her most nights. He was lonely, and Monique was there to keep him company, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Erik craved a connection that Monique just couldn’t provide. So he decided he had to break it off and figured that doing so in a public place would probably be best. She had a tendency to throw things when she got angry.

The car ride to Chez Martine was tense. Monique had been angry all day because Erik had taken back his credit card even though she wanted to buy a new dress for their date. Her lousy mood almost made him dump her back at his condo, but Erik kept a cool head and stayed focused on the plan. He ignored the way Monique complained the entire time she got ready, reluctantly putting on a dress he had seen her wear before. It didn’t matter to him; he knew what the night held.

When they walked into the restaurant, Erik’s heart dropped into his stomach. He’d recognize that shoulder blade tattoo anywhere. She had cut off all her hair and lost a few pounds, but he knew for sure that he was looking at Kayla. His Kayla. He forced himself to look straight ahead as they passed her table and prayed that the maitre d’ didn’t sit them where she could see him. Unfortunately, he had no such luck because the only open table for two was directly within her line of sight. He prayed again that Monique would sit on the far side of the table, but Bast ignored his pleas once more. He had to sit facing her, and as soon as he got comfortable in his chair, her gaze slyly trailed over to him. They locked eyes across the room, and Erik’s heart stopped. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her all those months ago, but who the fuck was that sitting across from her?

“What are you looking at?” Monique’s abrasive voice cut through his eardrums.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I know, that’s all.”

She cut her eyes at him and turned around to look as he buried his face in the menu.

“Quit being nosy,” he complained.

“I just wanna see who’s got your attention, that’s all.” Monique turned back around with a sour look on her face. “It’s probably that fat girl with her cleavage all out.”

“Mo, just look at the fucking menu and act like you got some sense.”

“Fine.”

Monique pouted until the waiter showed up, but she plastered a fake smile on her face as he took their order. As usual, she ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and it bothered him to no end that she was hellbent on spending all of his money. Of course, he had plenty, but she felt entitled to it. Kayla never cared about him being rich. Hell, when they got together, she didn’t even know he was a prince, but he loved to spoil her nonetheless. He loved the look on her face when he’d buy her things or take her on the expensive trips that she more than deserved. Kayla appreciated everything he did for her with all her heart, but she’d say the same thing every time.

“Thank you, baby, but you’re all I need.”

Erik smiled fondly at the memory of when he bought her a diamond tennis bracelet from Wakanda for their second anniversary. She was so excited to have diamonds that weren’t marred by exploited labor that she damn near dropped the box when she saw what was inside. It had been a rough year for them, what with him disappearing for a couple of months to seize the Wakandan throne and all. She certainly had plenty of colorful words for him when he came back. He’ll never forget the look on her face when he showed up at her door. He had brought T’Challa for backup just in case, but she looked right past the king as tears welled up in her eyes at seeing her Erik, alive and well.

Erik’s eyes started to get misty as he thought about the way she kissed him with so much emotion...then slapped him across the face for leaving. His gaze wandered back over to Kayla and he noticed the light bounce off of something on her arm. She was wearing the bracelet.

As if she felt his glare, Kayla shifted uncomfortably in her seat, so he averted his eyes back to Monique, who had caught him staring again.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” she asked sarcastically, making him roll his eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

--------

Erik Stevens. Here, of all places. He just had to be here.

Kayla noticed that he didn’t seem to be enjoying his modelesque date’s company any more than she was enjoying Darwin’s, and the pang of jealousy she felt at seeing him with another woman went away. She knew she had no right to feel any kind of way about it, especially since she was the one that broke things off. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

Dylan was too wrapped up in his steak to notice her wandering eye, but it seemed that Erik’s food was as uninteresting as the woman across from him. Kayla watched as he half-heartedly pushed it around his plate, but he certainly kept his favorite whiskey coming. She wanted to chuckle but didn’t want Daniel to think he had anything to do with her levity. They were both drowning their dissatisfactions in their alcohols of choice, and Kayla got a phantom taste of Uncle Nearest 1856 on her lips as she watched him take a sip. When he set the glass down and licked his lips, Kayla felt flush. She missed those lips…

“So, how about dessert?” Damien asked as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. “I hear their creme brulee is amazing.”

“Uh, sure, why not?”

“You know,” he began as he leaned in and reached for her hands. She allowed him to take them, but the softness of his hands disgusted her. No callouses, no roughness, not even a firm grip. “I’ve had a great night. I’d love to see you again.”

Kayla chuckled nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you doing next-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

A shrill voice pierced the air as Erik’s date bolted up from her seat. Desmond, and the whole restaurant, turned around to see what was going on, and Kayla took the opportunity to remove her hands from his.

“Keep your voice down,” Erik sneered through his teeth. “We’re in public.”

“So?! You bring me out here just to dump me? To dump this?!” she gestured at her slim figure, and he rolled his eyes.

“You ain’t even all that,” he waved her off. He was tired of playing nice, and Kayla could see the exasperation written all over his face.

“Excuse me, miss-” the waiter attempted to calm her down, but the crazed woman cut him off.

“Stay out of this!”

“I’m so sorry,” Erik mouthed to the poor man who would absolutely be getting a monstrous tip later.

“Oh, you’re sorry for him, but not for me?”

“Mo, just sit down. We can finish our meal like adults-”

“Fuck you, Erik.” She threw her dirty martini at him, soaking the front of his all-black ensemble.

Kayla could damn near see the steam coming out of his ears as his apparent ex stormed out of the restaurant. Erik locked eyes with her across the room, and when he saw the concern written all over her face, his softened.

“Whew, poor fella,” Dexter commented as he turned back around. “Where was I? Oh-”

“Excuse me, where’s your restroom?” Kayla interrupted him as their waiter walked by.

“Right down there.” She pointed at a set of stairs off to the side, and Kayla thanked her as she slid out of her seat.

“I’ll be back, Darius.”

“It’s Denzel.” He deflated.

“Fuck,” she froze. She had been sure it was Darius. “Still, I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” he responded, obviously upset by her slip-up.

Kayla hurried off down the stairs and leaned against the wall as she waited for either of the single-use restrooms to open up. She took a deep breath and opened her clutch, reaching in to pull out her phone with a shaky hand and typing in his number. It was one of the few she had memorized, just in case.

“You ok?”

Her thumb hovered over the send button, but she couldn’t press it. Her heart nearly thumped out of her chest at the thought of starting a conversation with him, but something within her said that she should. It would be weird not to say anything after all that, right?

“Hey-”

“Shit!” Kayla dropped her phone when his silky baritone graced her ears.

“My fault, ma.” Erik leaned over and picked the phone off the floor, checking it for cracks. He saw she had typed a message out to him and smirked before handing it back to her.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem. And, yeah, I’m ok.”

“Huh?”

Erik pointed at her phone screen.

“Oh! Right. Um, well, that’s good to hear.” Kayla attempted to push her hair behind her ear out of habit, forgetting she had just cut it all off a week ago.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ok? You don’t seem to into ole dude out there.”

Kayla sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh, him.”

“Damn, it’s like that?” Erik laughed, and she slapped his arm. That slight contact was enough to spark a flame in them both, and Erik’s face turned serious. “For real, though, not going well?”

“Better than you, it seems,” she quipped as she eyed his wet shirt. That was a bad idea because his first three buttons were undone, and she caught a peek of the raised scars that she missed so much. And that broad chest, and the chain with his father’s ring that he always wore. He’d let her wear it from time to time, and she always felt like it was such an honor. He trusted her enough to let her wear it. He loved her enough to-

Kayla pried her eyes away and made yet another mistake: she looked up at him. Those eyes still looked like sweet, sweet molasses, and even though his locs were braided back, she could tell he was letting them grow out. She momentarily wondered who was retwisting them nowadays, but her train of thought was cut short by the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. Kayla’s mind went blank as she inhaled slowly.

“Heh, yeah. That was...that was pretty embarrassing. Not even gonna lie.” Erik looked away shyly, unable to hold her gaze.

“I guess you’ll need to find a new date spot, huh?”

“Nah, I think I’m good on dating for a while.”

“Same,” Kayla sighed. “Dating sucks.”

“Yeah…”

One of the bathroom doors unlocked, and a middle-aged white man stepped out and passed them on the way up the stairs.

“Well, I should-”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Kayla walked towards the bathroom, but before she could reach the door, she felt a light tug on her wrist. His touch still gave her goosebumps, and he noticed her raised skin as she turned to face him.

“I just, uh...it was nice seeing you, Kay-kay.” Erik smiled at her, and she nearly melted. She missed when he called her that, too. “You look good.”

“Thanks, E.” She smiled back. “So do you.”

He let her go, and Kayla disappeared into the bathroom. When she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath to center herself. After all these months, Erik still took her breath away. He clouded her senses and scrambled her mind. Even as she took care of business, her brain replayed their short interaction on a loop.

Kayla locked eyes with her reflection as she dried her hands. How could she go back up there to- what’s his name? Oh, yeah, Da- Denzel. That’s it, Denzel. How could she go back up there to his mediocre company when the man she still loved had made her feel so alive with just one touch. That was the magic of Erik, his magnetism. When they were together, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him, even when she wanted to slap him across his beautiful face. Those were some of the best times, though. If she was angry at him, he knew exactly what to do to calm her down. To put her in her place. To remind her-

Kayla’s daydreaming was cut short by a knock at the door.

“Occupied!”

It came again.

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

She reached for another paper towel to dab off the sweat that had started to pool on her skin at the thought of Erik’s dominance when the door opened.

“What the f- Erik?!”

He pushed inside the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You need to start locking doors, Kay.”

“I- what do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” he spoke as he moved closer to her.

“Here?!”

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled.

Kayla rolled her eyes and tried to push past him.

“Now is not the time or place-”

“When is?” he blocked her exit, and she crossed her arms in defeat, looking up at him through her lashes as she leaned against the sink. “Look, I just need to say something real quick.”

“Fine,” Kayla sighed and gestured for him to continue. She knew there was no use fighting him. She wasn’t leaving that bathroom until he was good and ready.

“Kay,” his voice softened, and she looked away only to have her face pulled back in his direction. “Kay-kay, look at me.”

She made the mistake of doing just that, getting lost in his eyes again.

“I miss you,” Erik murmured.

“Erik-”

“Look, I know, ok? I know. And I’m sorry, Kay. I really am- no, look at me. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you...but I miss you, girl.”

Kayla’s eyes welled up with tears that she tried her hardest to blink away, but one had the nerve to fall. Erik wiped it away, and the next one, and the next one. A sob wracked Kayla’s body, and he wrapped his arms around her body.

“Don’t cry, babygirl. I know you worked hard on your makeup.”

Kayla laughed through her tears, but the emotions washed back over her, and she buried her face into his chest. It was already soaked with gin, so what harm would a few tears do?

He held her and rocked her softly from side to side as she cried, and after a couple of minutes, she found the will to look up at him again. His cheeks were wet, so she reached up and swiped her thumbs over them as she held his face in her small hands. He nuzzled into them and kissed her wrists.

“I miss you, too, E,” she croaked.

“I know, babygirl.”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes as his soft lips caressed her skin. They stayed intertwined for who knows how long until Erik felt Kayla begin to pull back. He looked down at her, and the two of them locked eyes. Before they knew it, their lips had met in the middle in a passionate embrace. They got lost in each other for a moment until common sense returned to Kayla, and she pushed him off.

“We can’t-”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because what, Kay?” Erik’s voice rumbled as he closed what little gap was between their bodies. He left soft kisses on her temples before working down to her cheeks, then her jawline, and eventually the column of her neck. She let out a soft whimper when his teeth grazed the crook of her neck but pushed him back again before he could continue any further.

“Erik, I...I still love you, and-”

He attacked her lips with his, hands feverishly gripping her waist as he pushed her further into the sink. She had nowhere to go, and she was ok with that.

“I...love you...too...babygirl,” he whispered between kisses.

Kayla’s mind went blank as he lifted her up on the counter and pressed himself between her legs. She could feel him, all of him, and damn did she miss that monster between his legs.

“Erik,” she moaned as he nipped at her earlobe. He still knew how to play her body like a violin.

“Mmm, say it again.”

“Erik!” she squeaked as she felt his strong hands grip her thighs.

“Just like that,” he groaned, and she flooded her already wet panties.

“Baby-”

He connected his forehead to hers and stared deep into her eyes. “You miss me?”

“Mhm,” Kayla nodded with her lip between her teeth.

“I miss you, too, baby. I think about you all the time. Every day,” he pecked her lips, “every night. I miss everything about you, Kay-kay. Your off-key singing, your horrible cooking-”

“Shut up,” Kayla giggled as his hands traveled up her dress.

“Your body…fuck I miss this body. I miss how you smell, how you taste...how that tight little pussy feels wrapped around my dick.”

Kayla widened her legs for him as his fingers found their way to the seat of her panties, stroking up and down her slit. Erik kissed his way back down her face and over to her ear, his warm breath sending chills down her spine.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself? Because I do. You’re all I see when I stroke my dick...wishing it was your hand...your lips...this fucking pussy.”

Erik pushed her panties to the side, and his nimble fingers circled her clit. Kayla let out a small moan that was music to his ears, making fingers move faster and her breath grow shallower with each rotation.

“Answer me.”

“Mhm.”

“Come on, babygirl, you can do better than that. You think about me when you play in your pussy? This pussy right here?” he asked as he slapped her vulva, her wetness sticking to his hand.

“Y-yes, baby-”

“Uh-uh, you know who I am. Say it,” Erik commanded as he snuck three fingers inside her wetness, making her moan loudly in his ear. “Shhh, you gotta be quiet, babygirl. You don’t want people out there knowing how much of a slut you are, right?”

Kayla shook her head no.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I asked you a question, Kayla,” he reminded her. His gruff voice made her weak, and the fingers that were steadily speeding up inside her certainly didn’t help. “Answer me. Who am I, babygirl?”

Kayla tried to hold out as much as she could. She didn’t want to say it, too proud to give in, but the way he was currently stretching out her pussy and curling his fingers inside her made her cling to his shoulders. The bastard knew what he was doing, and she didn’t want to let him win. But then, he played dirty and bit down on her neck. She cried out, and when he pulled back to look at her, the ferocity in his eyes drove her up the wall.

“I said, who the fuck am I, Kayla?” Erik growled. His hand sped up, making her weak with every thrust. She couldn’t hold it anymore and came undone around him, her mouth betraying her as his name fell from her lips.

“Daddy!” she gasped as her pussy spasmed, and he chuckled darkly.

“Damn right I am,” he kissed her lips, “now gimme that pussy. Daddy missed his pussy.”

Kayla heard a rip and felt the cool air between her legs as he tore through her panties to get to her treasure trove. She reached down between them and grabbed his clothed erection in her hand, making him groan as he bit down on his luscious bottom lip. She undid his belt buckle and slowly unzipped his pants before reaching in and pulling out his throbbing dick.

The longing in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, so he pushed her legs back and tapped his head on her clit.

“You want daddy’s dick in you?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered.

“Good.”

He pushed in and groaned at the feeling of her pussy walls gripping him as he sheathed himself inside her.

“Fuck, you feel like home.”

Kayla moaned into his neck in response and wound her hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he stroked into her slow and deep. She couldn’t form words. He felt so damn good inside her that Kayla’s brain had short-circuited. Erik’s dick hit spots that she could never find herself no matter how hard she tried. Even in her dreams, he drove her body wild. She had spent the last year trying to find somebody, anybody who could make her feel that way, but nobody could compare to Erik Stevens.

Erik and Kayla panted heavily into each others’ mouths as he made love to her body, and as soon as Kayla started to tense up, his thrusts grew harder.

“I-I-”

“I know, babygirl. Daddy feels it,” he groaned as he nipped at her bottom lip. “Cum on my dick like a good girl.”

His words sent Kayla into overdrive, and her body shook as she spilled over him. Her spasming walls hugged him tight, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, begging him with her eyes.

“You feel amazing,” she moaned.

“Mhm. I know them other niggas wasn’t hitting it like this. I just know it. Look at you, cumming all over daddy’s dick. Look at it!” He grabbed her chin and made her look down at her throbbing pussy as his dick slid in and out of her.

“We look so good, daddy!”

Erik slammed into her, and she bit into his shoulder to keep from screaming. He gave her his all over and over, rocking the countertop in the process.

“We’ll look even better if you let me cum in this pussy. Mix my cum with yours-”

“Yes!”

“Yes?” He chuckled. “You want it that bad, huh? Nasty ass, in here getting fucked while that bum ass nigga’s waiting for you upstairs.”

“Mmm, I want it.”

“Want what, babygirl?” Erik teased as he brought his thumb to her clit, strumming it slowly as he thrust into her.

“You. I want you to cum deep in me.”

“Shit,” Erik groaned. “You want it deep in there?”

“Mhm. Put it where it belongs, daddy.” Kayla licked up the side of his neck, making his knees buckle. “Cum in your pussy.”

Erik lost all sense of control and pounded into her tight pussy, somehow getting even deeper in preparation for his release. Kayla held on tight as she felt him begin to spasm inside her, and she released around him again as his deep moans tickled her ear. Erik thrust extra deep and held his dick in place as he emptied his balls into her warmth, whimpering lightly as she rubbed his back to soothe him and bring him back down.

“I missed you, babygirl.”

“I missed you, too, daddy.”

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other until their breathing slowed. Erik was the first to move, slowly pulling himself out of Kayla as she whined at the loss of contact. He kissed all over her face before planting a slow, sweet kiss on her lips.

“I can’t let you go again, Kay-kay,” his voice cracked as tears threatened to fall from his eyes again.

Kayla pulled him back in and kissed him so deeply that she nearly lost herself in him again, but he pulled away and looked her in her eyes.

“I’m serious, girl. I’ll do anything. I’ll marry you, give you as many big-headed babies as you want. Just, please, Kay-” she cut him off with another kiss to shut him up.

“We should go back to my place and talk,” she whispered, and Erik’s face lit up. Something about the way she said it, the way she kissed him, the way her body still responded to his...it gave him hope. Kayla smiled at him and pecked his lips once more before hopping off of the sink. He had to catch her because her legs were wobbly, and she stumbled a little in her heels.

“You aight?” he laughed.

“No, nigga,” she slapped his chest, and the two of them got caught in a laughing fit. They had really just fucked in the bathroom at Chez Martine. Kayla was on cloud nine until a thought occurred to her, and her face fell flat. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Erik’s face turned serious, and his eyes scanned over her body, looking for whatever the problem was.

Kayla started giggling again, and he looked confused.

“What is it?” he asked, barely able to keep a straight face. Her laugh was always so infectious…

“Demetrius.”

“Who?!”

“My date.”

“Girl, don’t worry about him. He probably thinks you dipped out anyway.”

Kayla shrugged and fixed her dress as Erik stuffed his shirt back in his pants. They checked their reflections in the mirror, and Kayla was pleasantly surprised that her makeup was still intact thanks to that setting spray she had splurged on the other day.

“Ready?” Erik asked as he admired her beauty. Kayla nodded, and he unlocked the door, opening it to find Duncan leaning against the wall with a sour look on his face. Kayla’s eyes blew wide as she tried to figure out what to say to her date for the evening.

“Heyyy, um…”

“Denzel,” he seethed.

“Yeah, sorry. So, um, we’re-”

“Sorry, bruh,” Erik clapped him on the shoulder, “but we heading out. Bathroom’s all yours, though.”

Erik pulled Kayla along, and she sent Deion an apologetic glance before following Erik up the stairs. It seemed the whole restaurant knew what had occurred, but neither one of them cared. They were just happy to be around each other again. It had been entirely too long.

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me,@toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @blacklytical, @uzumaki-rebellion, @honeyandpeaches, @cecereads209, @wakandama2,

#smutchallenge #cecewritessometimes #oneshot #erik killmonger x oc #black!oc #smut #Youtube

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snelbz · 3 years ago

Text

Life As We Know It {Chapter 19}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: Well, we promised a chapter today, so we decided to follow through on that. Even if we did post a surprise chapter last night. Oh, well. Enjoy! 🙃✨

Cassian sighed as he opened his eyes.

Another year older, another year wiser.

Well.

Another year older, anyway.

He blinked as he looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 7:58. Two minutes before his alarm would have gone off.

He hated when that happened, when his mind woke him up just before his alarm went off. There was no time to go back to sleep, it was perfect sleeping time wasted.

It was bullshit.

With a yawn, Cassian swung his legs over the side of his bed and got up. He stumbled to his dresser and pulled on a pair of sweatpants, just in time for his alarm to go off.

“Fuck you,” he muttered, quickly turning it off before flinging open his bedroom door.

It smelled delicious.

He meandered down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Nesta was icing a giant cake.

Her eyes darted to his.

He blinked.

“Get out!” she ordered.

“What the hell are you-.”

“Out!” she ordered, yet again.

Nyx babbled something at the top of his lungs that closely resembled, YEAH!

He did as he was told, blearily blinking as he stumbled back into the living room. He dragged a hand down his face. “Can I at least have some coffee?”

“In a minute!” She called and he heard quick footsteps, followed by the back door opening and closing. It opened again and she said, breathlessly, “Okay. You can come in now.”

Tentatively, Cassian rounded the corner and he found Nesta placing a platter of cinnamon rolls on the counter in place of the—

“Where did the cake go?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Nesta was lifting a cinnamon roll onto each of the plates in front of her, cutting the one for Nyx into tiny bites for him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He blinked again, half-wondering if he’d imagined the decorated monstrosity he’d seen on the counter, but he sniffed, smelling the air again.

It mostly smelled like the sweet and spicy scent of cinnamon, but—

No, that was definitely cake he smelled.

“Right…” he said, pulling forks out of the silverware drawer and setting one next to each plate. “You’re up early.”

“Had a lot to do before renovations start this morning. I’m meeting Helion and the contractor at the restaurant at nine.” She sipped her own coffee, not looking at him. Mixing truth and lies, it seemed, since he knew she was meeting the contractor this morning. As for a lot to do, he knew everything at the restaurant was already taken care of. She cleared her throat. “I wasn’t expecting you to be up so early either.”

Cutting into the gooey cinnamon roll, he said, “I gotta be at the bar in an hour. I’m talking with Kallias this morning before my shift starts.”

She set her coffee down and finally looked at him. “You have to work today?”

“Yeah,” he replied, popping the bite of pastry into his mouth. He resisted the urge to moan. “It’s Tuesday. I always work on Tuesdays.”

She hesitated, deciding whether she should speak or not. “But it’s your birthday.”

He couldn’t stop his smirk. He knew there had been a cake.

“And who told you that?” He asked, leaning over to wipe Nyx’s face off. The poor kid had icing all over his face, all the way up into his hair.

“That’s not important,” she said.

“Elain, then,” Cassian went on with a grin.

Nesta pretended like she hadn’t heard him and took a giant bite of her cinnamon roll.

“I’ll take Nyx with me to the bar,” Cassian said. “Viviane texted. She has the stomach flu.”

Nesta cringed. “That sucks. I...wait - you’re taking a baby to a bar?”

Cassian shrugged. “He’ll be fine. I only have to stay until two or so.”

“A baby,” she repeated, blinking. “To a bar.”

“You prefer to take him into a construction zone?” Cassian asked. “One that you’re in charge of? That sounds stressful.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “I can ask Elain to watch-.”

“I’m taking him with me and he’ll be fine,” Cassian said, shaking his head. “I promise.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. And he held up both hands. “I promise,” he repeated.

“Fine. But call me if you need to and I’ll come get him,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I’ll be in my office most of the day, so it’s not like he’ll be running around in a construction zone.”

“And I’ll take the carrier and physically wear him all day, so it’s not like he’ll be running around the actual bar.”

Nesta groaned. “Fine. Fine. But take the pack-n-play, his monitor and toys. He can entertain himself well enough.”

“Okay,” Cassian nodded, finishing off his cinnamon roll. He pulled Nyx out of his high chair, who was now playing with and wearing most of his food, rather than eating it, and said, “I’ll give him a bath while you get ready.”

“Okay.” He was nearly in the living room when he heard, “Cass?” He turned and looked back at her, still not completely used to the familiar nickname from her. She was blushing slightly. “Happy birthday.”

Smiling, he said, “Thanks,” and turned to head up the stairs.

Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Any birthday plans?”

“You’re looking at it.”

Kallias chuckled as he observed Cassian, a wiggly baby strapped to his chest, counting the liquor bottles that lined the wall.

“How old are you anyway?” he continued, wiping down the bartop. “Thirty? Thirty-one?”

“You wound me,” Cassian muttered, scribbling a number down on his clipboard, not bothering to tell Kallias just how close to thirty he was getting to.

“I would say we should do shots to celebrate your big day,” Kallias began, taking Nyx’s outstretched hand. “But, I think your little housewife would disapprove.”

Cassian snorted. “If Nesta Archeron ever heard you call her such a thing, you’d lose a very important body part.”

“Not interested in that, thank you very much,” he muttered. “She ever gonna stop in, so I can see this terrifying woman you’ve told me about?”

“About that…” Cassian pulled Nyx out of the carrier and carried him into the back office, setting him down in the play pen. Grabbing the baby monitor, he made his way back into the front room.

Kallias looked up from where he was cutting limes at the bar. “About what?”

He leaned a hip on the bar and crossed his arms over his chest. “Nesta is going to be expanding the restaurant, adding a bar. That’s actually where she is right now, why I’ve got the kiddo with me. Didn’t really want him in a construction site.”

“Hot nanny couldn’t keep him?” Kallias asked, grinning.

Cassian rolled his eyes. “No, she’s sick. But, uh-.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m gonna be leaving and going over there, managing for her.”

Kallias eyes widened. “Oh. Shit.”

“Yeah. And I’d like you to come over there with me. Be my assistant manager at the new place.”

Kallias stopped cutting, mid-lime. “You do realize we are two out of five people that work here, right?”

Cassian nodded, slowly. “Yeah, I do. And I also know we can hire more people here.”

Kallias looked back down at his half-cut lime. “Assistant manager, huh?”

“It’s in a great part of town, we’d get amazing tips on top of already being paid more,” Cassian said. “It’s an amazing opportunity.”

“So I’d be stupid to say no, then?” Kallias asked, continuing to cut his limes.

“Incredibly stupid,” Cassian agreed.

Nyx’s happy babbling came through on the baby monitor.

“I’ll think about it,” Kallias said, at last.

“Think about it, then tell me yes, because I’m not going there without you,” Cassian said.

Kallias snorted. “You’re a shitty liar. You’re going, whether I go or not.”

“And why wouldn’t you come with me?” Cassian asked, facing his friend. He and Kallias had worked together for years, since Kallias came in at twenty-one, during his senior year of college. “You want to be stuck in this dive bar forever? I know you. You’re a creature of habit. If I leave you here, you’ll be here for the next twenty years.”

Kallias didn’t bother telling him it wasn’t true. He just shook his head. “I guess we better start interviewing people, then.”

The day did not go as planned. Cassian had to stay and help out until nearly five-thirty, and by the time Cassian walked in the front door, Nyx was knocked out cold in his car seat. He gently set it down and unbuckled him, carrying him into the kitchen. It smelled divine, like roasting herbs and cooked veggies, even if he couldn’t see anything radiating the delicious smells.

Nesta was also nowhere in sight, so he took Nyx up to his nursery and laid him down, setting the baby monitor back up where it usually sat. He slipped the screen in his back pocket and made his way back downstairs, hurrying out to his truck to get Nyx’s diaper bag and the folded up playpen.

As he was setting it back up in the living room, he heard the sliding glass door open and close and made sure he was making enough noise to alert Nesta of his presence.

“You’re home,” she said, leaning on the doorway. “Nyx asleep?”

“Out like a light,” he said, tossing the few toys he’d brought with him back into the pen. “He had fun though.”

“Good. Dinner is almost done,” she smiled. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” he sighed and took another deep breath in. “It smells amazing.”

Turning, Nesta walked back into the kitchen. “Steak, garlic mashed potatoes, roasted carrots and green beans, and homemade rolls.”

He watched as she took the carrots and green beans out of the oven and placed them next to a plate of steak she must have just brought in from the grill.

Cassian’s mouth was damn near watering.

He looked at the spread as she spooned the mashed potatoes onto his plate. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Nesta tensed, then something like nervous laughter sputtered out of her mouth. “Well, I had to cook red meat for you on your birthday.”

“Does that mean you’ll be having yourself a steak, Archeron?” he asked, taking the full plate from her outstretched hands.

She gave him an amused look. “Hell no. You get both. I have a chicken kabob on the grill.”

Cassian licked his lips as he took his plate to the table. “Consider me a lucky man. Thank you.”

“Of course,” she said, clearing her throat. She piled her plate high with potatoes and veggies before going onto the deck and coming back with a grilled chicken kabob on her plate. She sat across from him. Cassian’s mouth was already full.

“How is it?” Nesta asked, cutting up a carrot before popping it into her mouth.

“Delicious,” Cassian said, mouth full. “So good.”

“If you don’t slow down, you won’t be able to enjoy the flavor,” Nesta said, knowing full well that he wouldn’t listen. Cassian practically inhaled everything on his plate within minutes.

He moaned, stretching back in his chair before running a hand through his hair. “I must say, Nes, you really outdid yourself.”

“Well, it was the least I could do after you worked and were on baby duty all day,” she said, popping a few green beans in her mouth.

They talked about their days as she finished eating. He told her about Kallias’ agreement to move to the restaurant, she told him about the beginning of construction.

They’d kept half the restaurant open, putting up a temporary wall to keep as much noise and dust out as they could, but the sooner the build was done the better. They both agreed on that.

“So, despite your switch with the cinnamon rolls this morning,” Cassian said from where he sat as she rinsed off their plates, “I’m fairly sure I saw a cake when I came downstairs.”

“Really now,” she said, and he saw the small smile on her face.

“Mhmm,” he nodded. “And, you know, I like cake.”

“And why, exactly, would I make you a cake?” She crooned, that little smile remaining.

“Because I’m the world's best roommate and uncle, obviously,” he said.

Nesta laughed as she stood. “Yeah, whatever.”

After exiting through the back door, she returned a moment later with a big, homemade cake.

It was exquisite.

Perfectly decorated and topped with vanilla and buttercream frosting, it read Happy birthday, Cassian!

As Nesta placed it on the countertop, Cassian asked, “Nesta, when the hell did you find time to make this?”

She shrugged. “Stayed up later and got up early. Didn’t have to be too early since you decided to sleep in today, but…” Her words trailed off. “I figured it was the least I could do.”

His mouth tightened, emotion he wasn’t expecting hitting him and he cleared his throat. “You gonna sing to me?” He asked, cracking a joke to break the tension that was slowly growing.

Nesta threw her head back and laughed. “Absolutely not.”

Cassian bit back his retort and the monitor in his back pocket went off, crying coming from upstairs.

“I’ll get him,” she said, standing up. “I’m sure he’s hungry. Will you cut up green beans and carrots for him?”

He nodded, the cake forgotten as he did what he was told, and Nesta returned with a bleary-eyed Nyx a few minutes later.

“Hi buddy,” Cassian said, chuckling at Nyx’s hazy expression. He was already sitting at the table with a plate of cut up food.

The second Nyx saw the display, he was whining and reaching for it.

“Slow down, you need to be buckled into your seat first,” Nesta said, shaking her head.

“I can’t blame him,” Cassian said, as Nyx was strapped into his high chair. “I’m starving when I wake up, too.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Men.”

The second Nyx’s diapered butt hit the seat, he was stuffing his mouth.

“I guess we should wait for him to eat the cake,” Cassian said, looking longingly at the cake.

Nesta chuckled. “No patience?”

“When it comes to homemade baked goods?” Cassian scoffed. “No.”

She snorted, which had Cassian raising an eyebrow. She looked at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied, shaking his head. “That was just…cute.”

Nesta didn’t reply, but he swore she could see her cheeks heating as she turned to put the leftovers from dinner away.

Once Nyx’s plate was cleared, Nesta cut three slices of cake. One was barely a sliver, one was mostly icing and one was damn near a quarter of the cake. She took the one with extra frosting for herself, placing the small one in front of Nyx and the larger one in front of Cassian.

Again, Nyx wasted no time scarfing it down. Cassian didn’t either, helping himself to another, much smaller piece afterwards, but not touching it yet.

“You sure you don’t want to sing to me?” He asked, taking a bite of the cake. “It would complete my day.”

Nyx, an impending sugar crash, was already dozing again. Apparently, his day with Uncle Cassian had well and truly worn him out.

She rolled her eyes and wiped the excess cake off of Nyx’s face. Pulling him out of his high chair, she said, “No, I think I’m good.”

“I’m just saying,” Cassian pushed. “If you wanted to really wish me a happy birthday, a song would do.”

Nesta snorted, taking Nyx in her arms and swaying, back and forth. “You’ve never heard me sing.”

“If your singing is as good as your cooking, it must be amazing,” Cassian promised.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Have I told you that you’re full of shit?”

Cassian pretended to debate it. “Maybe once or twice.”

Nesta chuckled, and said no more about it. “Finish your cake, Nazari. This little monster is ready for bed. I’ll put him down. It’s your birthday.”

It wasn’t that putting Nyx to bed was exhausting. Although sometimes it could be a chore, Cassian nodded and took another bite of his cake as Nesta and Nyx disappeared.

In their absence, Cassian cleared his plate.

The cake was delicious.

He knew Nesta was an amazing cook, but didn’t know that her baking skills were just as good. It was the best cake he had ever eaten. He was even considering getting himself a third piece, but decided against it as she rounded the corner back into the kitchen.

She sighed, falling into her chair. “That may have been record time to get him down. He was practically asleep before I’d even pulled the curtains shut.”

“He had a big day,” Cassian said, eyeing the piece of cake on her plate that she hadn’t even touched. “Taught him how to make a mojito. He’s a pro. Maybe we should hire him on at the bar.”

Shaking her head, Nesta cut into her cake and took a bite. She chuckled. “I’m sure that doesn’t violate any labor laws.”

“Nah, we’re his guardians,” Cassian said, waving a hand. “We can certainly get some free labor out of him.”

She rolled her eyes. “I honestly can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.” She took another bite of cake, and Cassian’s eyes dipped to her mouth. He was quiet for long enough that she asked, “What?”

He hesitated but said, “You’ve got a little—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead he leaned forward across the small space between them and swiped the frosting that was on the corner of her lips away with his thumb.

Nesta didn’t move.

She didn’t push him away, didn’t tell him to stop touching her, either.

Cassian’s thumb lingered against her lips, and when she looked up, he was already watching her, quietly.

She opened her mouth to say something.

What? She wasn’t sure.

But, when her lips moved, Cassian’s did, too.

He kissed her, softly, slowly, and Nesta melted right into it.

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