#did you never learn object permanence? oh because he suddenly changed bodies suddenly all of jakes life before then as a human on earth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

werezmastarbucks · 4 years ago

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columbus

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 2608

music: little death by +44, violence violence violence by tuff turf, inspiration by red 7

Every day he asked, what do you wanna do today?

After you finally allowed to leave the little, boring, flat island, Kai was so greatful he was down almost to anything. It was also the time when your chaotic, time wasting, unpredictable movements across the surface of the earth started dying down and turning into something more systematic. Although all the places you visited up to that moment were somehow connected with searching for a way out, once you started giving up you suddenly had a plan.

Not for breaking out fo the prison though.

The day (you still felt weird thinking it: the day. Every day was the same day. It was all today. It was all Kai’s birthday) you realized there was nothing much more you could do actively you had one of those moments when your brain suddenly feels like it has had enough. Like in the old times, when you were a teenager and had regular panic attacks after the Katherine accident. Not that you needed a specific reason to justify breaking here and there, with the style of life you were leading.

It happened when you were high, in a literal meaning. On the top of the bridge, where you two climbed up to watch the sun go down. Dublin was a city with lots of low roofs, incredibly cute; neat streets drowning in flowers, and all. Standing there, as you realized the panic is climbing at your throat, there was one question in your head: so, we’re staying here?

Although it’s nice, and everything is so easy, and traveling is quick, we’re staying here?

Although he is good, and he likes me, and I start trusting him, and he clearly tries to be nice, we’re staying here?

Although deep down inside I am starting to think this was exactly what I needed, in a twisted way, to get my head straight, to have an opportunity to dig something up in Kai, we’re staying here for good? Because you didn’t know if you could handle this. You had no idea how he handled this. It wasn’t about the general horror of being completely alone without seeing birds. It was looking at the empty sky and feeling the incredible weight of it, all on top of the head. It was the sound of the wind flying across the land uninterrupted, the quiet of the night undisturbed. It was more than you could describe. It was almost like drowning in space.

Kai had to get you down using magic, and you didn’t have enough breath to tell him not to waste it. Saving magic was a kind of a ritual as well, something that kept you on your feet because it gave you hope for once we get out.

You screamed into the face of green late spring lawn under the violet sky. Kai stood by, watching you without pity in his eyes for he never seemed to exhibit much compassion for you; he showed his presence in a different way. It actually helped; you never felt better if someone held you as you broke down. He then tried to console you, standing shoulder by shoulder, and pointing at the sky,

“Consider this. Nothing like that back in Maldives, right?”

The colors changed and drifted across the sky because here, in Ohio, there were clouds.

You sniffed busily.

“You like being home, don’t you?”

Kai nodded.

“Yeah. I feel connected. You know?”

“Did you feel as connected in the future?”

He shrugged.

“There’s been too much commotion. And before that, none at all. I exist in the past. I exist in the future. I stopped feeling time, you know? I’m a time lord”, he concluded, satisfied, and his eye glinted at you. You chuckled, and the chuckle turned into a deep sigh full of sweet evening air.

“We’re not going back, are we?” you asked weakly. Kai looked at you almost flabbergasted.

“We are. One day. Maybe even today”.

You smiled, tiredly.

“You’re giving up now? Hey, you think I wanna be here? I’ll think of something, don’t be upset”.

That was about the most warm words he uttered to you in the whole time. You felt there’d be more to come.

Truth was, you really started believing he was now better off than before.

“So, what do you want to do tomorrow?”

Once you got relieved from the permanent worry about the time wasting, about finding the loopholes you haven’t thought of, you finally could just... enjoy.

You looked at him and wondered if he knew everything there was to know. Whether he looked like a guy who could skateboard. He certainly did to you, but hey, the beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

“Can you teach me how to skateboard?”

His brows went up.

“I’m sorry. You can’t skateboard?”

“Nope”.

“You made me listen to your five hundred sixty one song playlist named ‘skate pop punk’“, he reminded you.

“Yeah, I compiled it out of sad nostalgia for the times I missed on, while I, you know, was preoccupied with vampires swarming my town”.

“I can’t believe I have an eye for you, and you can’t skate. You know you’re in ‘94, right?”

“That’s exactly why I’m asking”.

“Jesus”.

“Come on now”, you chanted, your voice a little hoarse, “you spent eighteen years here with all the time on your hands and haven’t learnt to swim”.

“That’s because water is scary”.

“So is the asphalt hitting you in the face”.

Kai clicked his tongue.

“Okay, I’m on it. But for that, we have to go to Columbus”.

“Of course we do”, you nodded, having no idea why Columbus. You loved the city, though, so you had no objections.

You asked yourself, if he has been pretending with the Mystic Falls people, too. He kept on going about how you, in his mind, for sure, hid your feelings for him, wanting to expose you for your hypocrisy. But this place had its effect on him, too. He clang on you. He was different. He was more than tolerable. He made you laugh and he cared about what you thought about his cooking. You wondered if he realized he’d been pretending, too.

Kai never missed a chance to place his hands on your waist. Pushing you in the back, he was enjoyin the role of the teacher, but he was trying to grow into it even more. It seemed he was missing role playing, the social kind to which all the adults are subjected, like mad.

Two minutes after you asked him, as you hopped into the car (family Toyota of mediocre grey color), excited, he started talking about every little detail there was to skating. Turned out, he knew absolutely everything about it. Every last trick had been rehearsed by him a thousand times, and though he wasn’t a natural born athlete, he demonstrated pretty damn good knowledge of all the physical aspects. He talked, and talked, and talked, about which board to choose, and the kind of sneakers you’re going to need, and what street will be the best, and the time for practice, and the way he’ll teach you, and no matter how many times you turned up the music, he wouldn’t take a hint.

Not that you ever grew annoyed with him more than, like, 6 out of 10. It seemed you clicked just fine.

“Put your foot here”, he muttered, pushing your heel a little onto the board. You nearly fell over, leaning back on him and feeling his firm hold having your back.

“That’s the trickiest part. How am I supposed to...” falling backwards and colliding with him, you let the board shoot away from under you, and you two watched it roll a little forwards, “keep it under me if it has wheels?”

“Please, stop talking”, Parker moaned.

“Whatever happened to me ending on your dick sooner or later”, you grumbled, going to pick it up. Kai chuckled,

“It’s still on. Who knew fooling around with you would be just as fun”.

How does one love?

You observed him, stunned a little, and his impatiently outstretched hand. He rarely let you fall, but you managed anyway. Your left elbow was burning, and your knee was bleeding a little, blood forming a beautiful snowflake-like (his words) stain in the big hole cut through your jeans. People are only supposed to skate in torn pants, or in shorts, Kai hammered in a very important, responsible voice. You didn’t ask any questions. It was lore, and that was it. Skateboarding lore, like bird swimming.

“Not to lose it, you have to lean forwards, and shift your weight forward, too, a little”, he suggested.

“Here’s the question”, you held your elbow and tried to get a proper look at it, “if we heal, and nothing changes, if our organisms are stuck in this twenty-four hours circle, does the muscular memory still apply?”

“Oh, it does”.

“So, it’s me being terrible at skating”.

“Yeah. If you think of it, the people”, he spat that word like it was poison, “standing behind the whole prison world speck of spells haven’t thought it out too well. Like, your body doesn’t change. It makes very little sense to me”.

“Well, they wanted you to be here forever, without letting you die”.

“You come back at different time after you die”, he said, as if he hasn’t heard you, “every time. It seems like it depends on the way you die. I can’t grow a beard, but you can still learn how to do a cart wheel, because your body doesn’t lose the habit of automatical movements. Same with the brain”.

“Yeah, sounds like hell for a perfectionist”, you concluded, fidgeting with the board. There was connection between Malachai Parker loving it the most in America, of all places, and the fact he looked like he was born on this street. There were friendly looking family houses left and right, standing above smooth ground.

You liked it the most when he pushed you in the back, running beside you, and you tried to balance as you shot along the street. The wind in your hair, and the harsh sound of the polyurethane wheels on the road, and you screaming as the turn manifested itself. Kai didn’t notice the remains of a hole in the asphalt that’s been filled with cement. The little bump stood out like a tiny turtle, and, as one of the wheels stumbled upon it, the board jumped away from you. You felt the muscles of his arms tense as Kai tried to lift you up above the earth, but he was running too, and the acceleration did not let either of you stop in time.

You both leaped through the air about a meter, before crashing onto the sand ground. Kai nearly hit his head on the pole of the road sign indicating kids running somewhere around.

Groaning and ouching, you crawled out from underneath him and lay on your back. You panted and laughed, hissing with pain. It felt like you rubbed your tigh really hard against the curb, and it felt red.

“Once again”, you said.

“You’re pretty much hopeless”, Kai replied, without malice.

“More encouragement, please”.

“You’re pretty! Hopeless. By the way, I just got it. You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about why I jumped after you there in Koureménos. And realized you jumped with me the same way, right? You knew you were going down, and jumped anyway”.

You recalled Damon’s eyes for a second. Something you tried not to think about too much.

Truth was, you really thought he would stop. You didn’t expect Damon to send you away, too. You thought you’d be a wall between him and Kai.

The board shuffled on the ground and stopped there somewhere. All fell quiet.

“We both did a stupid thing, and it felt right”, he mused slowly, as if he was surprised his own mouth was saying it. You pulled yourself half way up, balanced yourself on one elbow (the unharmed one) and leaned over his face, kissing him.

You stayed in Columbus for a while, until you could finally master the skateboard. The board you chose, by the way, was very cool. It had a green a purple zombie face gritting its rotting teeth, and its faded pale yellowish eyes on a roll out. You kept it close to the door of the bedroom, zombie face to bed so that you could look at it. You really liked the design.

The bed heaved under Kai’s weight as he rolled on his back. You were listening to music, waiting for midnight. You never went to sleep before twelve o’clock, when the new today began, because it distorted sleep anyway. As your bodies returned back to default, it always woke you up.

“It makes no sense”, he complained. “It sounds just like the old ones”.

“That’s the point of the whole genre of the retrowave”, you sighed. In the twilight, with no street lights on (you personally broke half of them, practicing your aim with the stones), the zombie head seemed more vicious than it really was.

“Why not just listen to synth wave then?”

“Because the quality is different, and the melodies are still different. It’s fake retro. It reminds me of my youth”.

“You know what reminds me of my youth?” he said crossly, “listening to actually old music. I don’t understand this”.

You found his hair, getting your fingers in it and squeezing lightly. It calmed him down at once, all the time.

“You exist outside the time, you have no youth”, you reminded him.

“Right”, Kai was almost dozing off. “What do you want to do tomorrow?”

“You know what I was thinking?”

It was hard to keep your eyes open against the darkness of the room in this cute family house, on the Washington Street in Columbus, when Kai breathed right into your ear, nesting his face against the side of yours to distract you from his hand sliding down your belly.

He hummed. You had to catch his wrist to stop him from getting into your pants. Not to this song.

“We need to survive a zombie apocalypse. Shaun here gave me an idea”.

The skateboard zombie’s name was Shaun.

“Oh, that would be so cool!” Kai woke up at once. Your pants and what’s inside of them was forgotten. His eyes glowed in the dark like he was about to lash out on you with rage no less than a brain eater himself.

“We could get a really heavy car, and put up mannequins everywhere in the city, and shoot them”, you said. “We will get post-apocalyptic clothes and make a den somewhere in a high-high building that looks like a tower, and live without electricity. I’ll read you Stephen King at nights. You can reinvent radio”.

“Maybe I’ll bite your arm off”, he whispered, already jumping away into the fantasy, “and you’ll have to mercy shoot me until I turn into a complete animal”.

He crashed back onto bed and stared into the ceiling.

“If you bite my arm off, don’t you think you’re already too far gone? May as well eat me whole then. I don’t wanna go around without an arm”.

“Fair enough”.

You both sighed, thinking.

“But what place looks like it’s been ravaged by zombies?”

“Something like Escape from L.A., but not LA”, he muttered.

“Some city that has a lot of industrial districts and factories...”

Another pause, and then you looked at each other and shrieked at the same time,

“Boston!”

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries imagine #tvd imagine #vampire diaries

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silverlightqueen · 4 years ago

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Tia and Tamera... and Nicole

fratboy and best friend!namjoon x reader, university!au, comedy, fluff, angst (and making out, if that counts as something idk lol) ft. twice nayeon, got7 jackson & skz hyunjin

For btswriterscollective’s 1 year anniversary contest!

Summary: y/n decides to make a big fashion change and, all of a sudden, is the object of attraction of every male within a hundred metre radius of her. Namjoon, her best friend, isn’t too impressed about it.

Rating: 15 (mature themes, explicit discussion of sex, strong language)

Word Count: 9.9k+

Warnings: lots of sexism/misogyny, the typical she-has-a-makeover-and-suddenly-every-boy-wants-to-date-her-trope, lots of gross frat boys, strong language, explicit discussion of sex, alcohol and drug consumption, making out, Namjoon is trash and doesn’t know how to text. I think that’s it but lmk if you noticed that I missed something!

a/n: hey guys ! it’s silverlightqueen back with another university au lmao i’m sorry :( thank you to the loml @silverlightprincess for proofreading, you’re the best and I love youuu !! I hope you guys enjoy this bc it was really fun to write !!

silverlightqueen masterlist

I got the divider off google (it has no relevance to the story but it kinda matches the colour scheme so we move lmao) so credit to whoever made it lol

joon: u up

y/n: don’t fuckboy text me

joon: so thats a yes

y/n: what do you want ?

joon: u free tmrw

y/n: it’s Monday tomorrow

joon: what about it

y/n: I got a lecture in the morning, but I’m free after 11

joon: ill pick u up nd take u 4 food

y/n: look at you, any excuse to drop in that you can drive now

joon: do u want food yes or no

y/n: what food ?

joon: mexican indian chinese whateva u want

y/n: yeah, sounds good

joon: rnt u gonna tell me what food u want

y/n: I’ll sleep on it

y/n: anyway go to bed, idiot, why are you even awake at 2.30 on a Sunday night ?

joon: y r u

y/n: questioning my existence

y/n: duh

y/n: now tell me why you are

joon: i just left jens lol

y/n: nvm forget I asked

joon: sure u dont want the deets

y/n: positive

y/n: goodnight you demon

joon: gn angel

‘Took you long enough,’ Namjoon exclaims as I open the front door of his car and climb into the passenger seat. ‘Wait, whoa. Hold on. What is this?’ Namjoon demands as I shut the door behind me, and I quickly turn to look at him. ‘What?’ I ask worriedly, and he shakes his hand in my general direction. ‘This. Your outfit. I’m confused,’ he says, and I relax, rolling my eyes, trying to ignore the way my cheeks are heating up and hoping he doesn’t notice it. ‘Why are you confused, Namjoon?’ I ask as though I’m speaking to a child, and he laughs, starting up the car.

‘I’m confused because I’ve never seen you wear anything other than clothes that are way too big for you,’ he says, and I make an indignant noise as he speeds down the road like the devil driver he is. ‘Don’t even deny it, you know it’s true. I started to wonder if you had something you were trying to hide. A growth on your stomach. A hunchback. A pregnancy. Or worse; no boobs!’ he says, gasping dramatically, and I hit his shoulder, holding back a laugh. ‘I wasn’t hiding anything,’ I say, and he glances over at me, eyeing my chest, before his tongue darts out to wet his lip. ‘You were. I always assumed you had small tits – a B cup, max – but obviously not. I can’t believe you hid them so well. They’ve gotta be at least a D,’ he says, and I roll my eyes, not bothering to disclose that I’m actually an E. He’d probably pop a boner. ‘And your legs,’ he says, and I look down at them self-consciously. ‘What about them?’ I ask, and he blinks before looking down at my freshly shaved limbs. ‘I’ve never seen them before. They’re nice. Smooth. And curved, with some fat on them. I’m glad you don’t have stick legs,’ he jokes, and I sigh. ‘Stop body-shaming,’ I say, and he lets out a little chuckle. ‘Am I not allowed to have preferences?’ he smirks, eyes on the road as he overtakes cars left, right and centre. ‘No,’ I reply, and he bursts out laughing.

‘So what’s with the new look? What prompted this reinvention? Because, I’m either still tripping from last night, or you’re actually wearing makeup too,’ he says, and I shift embarrassedly in the seat. ‘I just felt like it was time for a change. I wanted to experiment, try something new,’ I say, and he nods, face blank. ‘Okay. Now, do you wanna tell me the real reason?’ he asks, and I laugh, annoyed that he knows me so well. ‘I was getting changed in my room-’ ‘Okay, hang on, let me picture it,’ Namjoon says, and I hit him again, ignoring his chuckles. ‘So, I was getting changed, and Nayeon barged in and had a meltdown over… my body. She said that she was really annoyed with me for hiding my body so much, because if she had my body, she’d walk around naked. Or whatever. Something like that. I’d never really… looked at my body like that, but once she said it, I realised that maybe I could start branching out, fashion-wise. So she took me shopping, and this is the trial of new outfit number one,’ I say, and he listens intently, nodding in all the right places.

‘So how have people reacted today?’ he asks, and I get a little embarrassed thinking about it. ‘Some of the girls in my class started screaming when they saw me, and Taehyung asked if I was new here, and if he could get my number. Oh, and our lecturer asked me to stay behind to ask if I was okay, because I didn’t seem to be myself today,’ I explain, and Namjoon bursts out laughing. ‘You’re kidding.’ ‘Not at all.’ ‘Wow. All I’ll say is to ignore Taehyung. I think all that weed has caused permanent damage to his brain,’ he says, and I can’t help but agree, wondering how that boy can even breathe right anymore. ‘Well, anyway. Why did you used to cover up so much?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘Are you just gonna keep quizzing me?’ I ask, and he nods instantly, grinning. ‘I’m intrigued, y/n. You have to understand that this is a lot for me to process. My best friend has transformed into someone else since I last saw her. My mind’s going into meltdown mode,’ he says dramatically, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘Drama queen.’ ‘I learn from the best. You. Now, anyway. Can you answer my question?’

‘I don’t know.’ ‘You don’t know if you can answer my question?’ ‘No, moron, I don’t know why I used to cover up so much,’ I say exasperatedly, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘I find that slightly hard to believe.’ ‘Fine. I wasn’t the most confident in my body. It’s hard, seeing all these super slim tiktok girls, petite and slight, and seeing them dress the way I wanted to. It’s like… I felt stupid wearing the same clothes they wear because they look so different to me. The way the media glorifies slim women… it’s hard for not-so-slim women like me. So I just hid my body in loose clothes for so long that it was what I was comfortable in,’ I explain, Namjoon still listening attentively. That’s one of the best things about him; he may be an idiot, but he always listens to what I have to say.

‘That’s… kinda sad, actually. Because – don’t get me wrong, your old look did suit you – but this new look? It’s great. You look really good, y/n, regardless of the fact that you’re not a super slim tiktok girl,’ he says matter-of-factly, and I smile shyly. ‘Thanks. So it’s a yes to the black and white check mini skirt and blazer set?’ I ask, and he nods instantly with a grin. ‘I can’t wait to see the rest of your outfits,’ he says, turning into the car park at the shopping centre. ‘There’s… quite a few to come. I’m a bit nervous about a couple of them,’ I say as he pulls into a parking space, and he gives me a greasy smirk. ‘I’m even more excited now,’ he says, and I swat at him, the boy chuckling as he ducks away from my hand. ‘I’ve just driven you to buy you food, and this is what I get in return?’ ‘Yes. You’re lucky I’m not beating the shit out of you.’ He sighs, checking his blond hair in the mirror before climbing out of the car, and I reach into the back and grab my bag before getting out too.

‘Oh, my God,’ he says, sounding shocked, and I instantly panic. ‘What?’ ‘What are those?’ he shouts, throwing his hands down to point at my feet, and everyone within a hundred metre radius turns to look at us. ‘Joon!’ I exclaim, embarrassed at him grabbing so much attention. ‘Sorry. But seriously? What are those?’ he asks, and I look down at my shoes. ‘They’re sock boots. What’s wrong with them?’ I ask, and he stares at them before taking a step back and looking me up and down. ‘Nothing. They look great. I’m just shocked to see you in shoes other than trainers. And is that a handbag I see instead of the usual backpacks?’ he teases, and I roll my eyes. We walk towards the entrance, and I struggle to keep up with him (I always struggle when walking next to him, but even more so in these boots). ‘Wait,’ I say, hooking my arm through his so I can slow him down, and he laughs. ‘Aww, struggling in your boots?’ he teases, and I huff. ‘Shut up,’ I pout, and he laughs again, looking at me with an affectionate gaze and an amused smile.

But the affection and amusement soon disappears. ‘y/n. You’re literally killing me here. Hurry up,’ he says impatiently. ‘Sorry, Joon. It’s my first time wearing heels though, cut me some slack. At least I haven’t fallen over,’ I say brightly, trying to put a positive spin on it, and he scowls. He’s been trying his best to walk slow but he’s now struggling not to walk at his normal pace – his legs are so much longer than mine. ‘Yet,’ he says venomously, and I gasp. ‘Was that a threat?’ I demand, feigning indignance, and he side-eyes me. ‘Maybe it was. I could stick my foot out right now and no one would ever know,’ he says in a wistful tone, and I shoot him a dirty look. ‘I’ll step on your foot if you try it. Then who’ll be laughing when my boots ruin your Balenciagas?’ ‘Me, because you’ll be buying me new ones.’ ‘With what money? I ain’t got money like that.’ ‘Oh, but you got money for clothes?’ ‘I always got money for clothes.’ ‘Get a sugar daddy.’ ‘You are my sugar daddy.’ ‘Huh?’ ‘Who takes me out for food at least twice a week? And buys me things out of the blue?’ ‘Damn. I really am your sugar daddy. This isn’t a good deal for me at all. You’re getting the daddy, but I’m not getting any sugar.’ ‘I’m not sure that that means exactly what you intended it to mean.’ ‘You know what I meant. I want my sugar, bitch.’ ‘Jen can give you sugar instead.’ ‘Okay, but Jen isn’t getting the daddy. You are.’ ‘She was getting the daddy last night.’ ‘Did you really just refer to my dick as ‘the daddy’?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Never do that again.’

‘Where are we eating?’ I ask, and he grins. ‘Wang and Nayeon are waiting for us at Red Velvet,’ he says, and I gasp. ‘Yes! It’s been so long since we’ve been to Red Velvet!’ I exclaim, and he laughs amusedly. ‘I know. I was worried you might start getting withdrawal symptoms.’ ‘I thought we’d never go back. Does Seulgi still work there?’ I ask, raising an eyebrow, and he pulls a face. ‘Yep,’ he says, and I feel my eyes widen. ‘And we’re still gonna go?’ ‘Yes, because I’m a great person and make sacrifices for you even though all you do is abuse me and threaten to ruin my Balenciagas,’ he says, and I pout. ‘Sorry, Joonie,’ I say, putting on a baby voice as I give him puppy dog eyes, and he refuses to look at me, fighting a smile off his face. ‘Apology accepted. Now stop being the real-life version of that emoji.’ ‘Which one?’ ‘Don’t play dumb, you know exactly which one I mean.’

We round the corner to where Red Velvet is, tucked away from the rest of the shopping centre, and Nayeon and Jackson are sat in the window booth, watching a video on Nayeon’s phone together. When Namjoon and I enter, the little bell above the door rings, and both of them look up at us. Nayeon grins so wide I’m worried her face is going to split, and Jackson does a double take, eyes wider than an anime girl’s. ‘y/n?’ he exclaims, loud enough to catch the attention of everyone in the restaurant, and I shoot him a look, shushing him. ‘Oh, my God. What’s happened to you? Who’s this sexy thing?’ Jackson says as I slide into the booth opposite him and Nayeon, shuddering at the thought of my bare legs on the worn (and most likely, germ-carrying) leather of the seat as Namjoon slides in beside me. ‘Don’t refer to me as a ‘thing’, I’m not an object,’ I mutter, but my comment is ignored when Namjoon says, ‘literally my exact reaction.’ ‘No, it wasn’t. You did not call me sexy,’ I frown, and he blinks at me, looking surprised. ‘Did I not?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘Well, I thought you would’ve gathered that I thought that anyway. Based on the way I had to pick my tongue up from the floor when I saw you,’ he says, Jackson and Nayeon laughing as I roll my eyes.

‘You look good. Really good, y/n. I didn’t know you had boobs,’ Jackson says, inspecting me, and I try not to squirm under his scrutinising gaze. ‘Neither did I! Until I walked in on her naked!’ Nayeon says, Jackson’s eyes nearly falling out of his head. ‘I was in my underwear,’ I say defensively, and Nayeon rolls her eyes. ‘Details. But, yeah, after I saw her hot bod, I told her to stop wearing Billie Eilish’s hand-me-downs.’ ‘And gave her your hand-me-downs instead?’ ‘Excuse me, these are brand new,’ I point out, and Nayeon nods. ‘Yeah. You should know me better. I could never pull off an outfit like that.’ ‘I could pull it off you,’ Jackson jokes, Namjoon fist-bumping him as they laugh, Nayeon and I exchanging an exasperated glance. ‘I could pull it off you too, y/n,’ Jackson says with a little quirk of his eyebrow, and I roll my eyes, willing myself not to blush. ‘Jackson! y/n’s our baby, and we’ve gotta protect her from fuckboys, so stop being one,’ Nayeon says with a slap to his shoulder. ‘There won’t be any… fuckboys,’ I say, and all three of them raise their eyebrows at me. ‘You’re delusional if you think that. Just wait ‘til a frat boy sees you,’ Jackson says, and I frown. ‘Okay. That sounds fake, but, okay,’ I say, just as Seulgi appears to take our order.

‘Hi, and welcome to Red Velvet. What can I get for you?’ she says in the most bored tone I’ve ever heard. She must really hate her job. Even more with this moron sat beside me in here. ‘Can I get the Ice Cream Cake freakshake please?’ Nayeon asks, Seulgi gracing her with a rare smile as she writes down her order. ‘Can I get the Power Up brownie with Red Flavour ice cream please? And just water?’ Jackson asks, also getting a smile. ‘Can I get the Cookie Jar freakshake? And she’ll have Mojito cheesecake with Blue Lemonade. Thanks,’ Namjoon says, ordering for me too, but, unsurprisingly, he doesn’t get a smile. ‘Will you all be paying together?’ ‘I’m paying for mine and his,’ Nayeon says, pointing at herself and Jackson (she lost a bet with him a couple weeks ago, and owes him a meal). ‘And I’m paying for mine and hers,’ Namjoon says, Seulgi fixing him with a dirty look. ‘So this is who you’ve moved on to now?’ she demands, Nayeon and Jackson wincing. ‘Sis, you can have him,’ I say, unable to resist, and Namjoon shoots me evils as Seulgi looks bewildered. ‘Pardon?’ ‘I’m good, luv. Enjoy,’ I say, but she’s still staring at me, her mouth suddenly falling open. ‘y/n?’ she asks, and I nod, slightly confused. ‘OMG, I didn’t even recognise you. Girl, you look so good! I didn’t know you had boobs!’ she exclaims, and I have to stop myself from facepalming. ‘Thanks, Seulgi,’ I force out between gritted teeth, embarrassed as hell, but she doesn’t seem to notice, grinning away obliviously. ‘No problem. I’ll just get your orders put through and then I’ll come back for payments,’ she says, visibly perkier (nothing like seeing one of your friends unrecognisable after a makeover to cure a bad mood – apparently), before disappearing.

‘That was awkward,’ Namjoon says nonchalantly, all three of us fixing him with hard stares. ‘It wouldn’t have been so awkward if you weren’t such a dick,’ I say blithely, and he gasps dramatically. ‘Excuse me?’ ‘Don’t play innocent, dumbass. If you hadn’t had slept with Joy and Seulgi on the same day, we wouldn’t be in this situation. We’d actually have avoided a lot of situations if you weren’t such a dog,’ Nayeon says, brutally honest as ever. ‘Hey, I never made any kind of commitment to either of them!’ Namjoon defends himself, both Nayeon and I shaking our heads at him. ‘It’s common courtesy, douchebag,’ I reply, Namjoon sticking his tongue out at me. ‘I’d like to know what situations you’re referring to. I don’t get us into awkward situations,’ he says, all three of us giving him a ‘really?’ look.

‘Remember when we went out to that bar – what was it called again? Oh, yeah, Playing With Fire – and Jisoo threw that drink at you for blocking her on socials after you slept together?’ Jackson reminds us, Namjoon nodding slightly embarrassedly. ‘Oh, and when we went to Breakthrough, that club, and Sana got us kicked out by pretending we smuggled drugs in because you ghosted her after telling her you felt ‘something real’ for her?’ Nayeon brings up, all of us looking pointedly at Namjoon who nods sheepishly. ‘And that fight you got into with Daniel after you went ‘round telling people that Jihyo’s your sloppy seconds?’ I say, and he gasps indignantly. ‘I didn’t say that once!’ ‘Still. If you hadn’t had slept with her, that fake rumour wouldn’t have gone around,’ I say, and he pouts. ‘We could name several girls you’ve gotten us into awkward situations with. Chaeyoung, Hyejin, Wendy, Dahyun-’ ‘Okay, okay, damn. I get the picture,’ he says, the three of us exchanging looks.

‘Anyway, I need to go toilet. Come with me, y/n?’ Nayeon asks, and I nod. Namjoon sighs, reluctantly getting out of the booth to let me out. ‘Whoa, hold on,’ Jackson says, and I turn around to face him. ‘y/n… what you doing out here with all this ass?’ he asks, voice far too loud for my liking, and the few people in the restaurant turn to look at us disapprovingly. ‘Double cheeked up on a Thursday afternoon!’ Namjoon exclaims, before they chorus, ‘Hella ass!’ They burst into laughter, and my face is on fire, everybody in the restaurant staring at us (or, more specifically, my ass). ‘y/n, you dumb thicc, sis,’ Jackson says, and I take a deep breath before saying, ‘I’m going to go to the toilet now.’ ‘Take some ass pics while you’re there!’

joon: hey sexc

y/n: hey, what’s up ?

joon: wang wants 2 know if u nd nayeon r up 4 wing wednesday @ KPN

y/n: what time ?

joon: weneva imma get there 6.30

y/n: are there gonna be any other girls there?

joon: idk prolly the boys gfs

joon: y u asking so many qs u dnt have 2 come if u dnt wanna

y/n: I just don’t wanna be one of the only girls at a frat house with loads of stupid frat boys

joon: ill protect u bby

joon: me nd wang got u

y/n: much appreciated

y/n: we’ll come, but I’ll text you when we get there and you need to meet us at the door

y/n: I’ll feel awkward just walking in

joon: ok but call dnt text

y/n: you never answer your phone

joon: ill take it off silent 4 u angel ;)

y/n: thank youuu

joon: ofc see u tmrw

y/n: see youuu, goodnight joonie

joon: gn stupid

‘Wrong number,’ he says when he answers the phone, and I roll my eyes. ‘We’re at the door, come get us,’ I say, and he lets out a loud sigh. ‘I’m gonna lose my seat,’ he complains, and I huff. ‘Joon, please come get us. Do you know what it’s like being a girl around dozens of frat boys? You need to look after us,’ I plead, and he sighs again. ‘Give me a minute,’ he replies before the line clicks off. ‘Is he coming?’ Nayeon asks, and I nod. ‘Good, because it’s freezing,’ she says, clutching at her bare arms. ‘That’s what you get for wearing a t-shirt,’ I say, and she rolls her eyes. ‘It’s not like you’re dressed warmly either,’ she says pointedly, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m not complaining about the cold.’ ‘Yeah, which I’m surprised about, because that top is thin as hell.’ ‘It’s not that thin.’ ‘Sis, I borrowed that top yesterday – it’s thin.’

I’m dressed in a black long-sleeve top tucked into a pair of greyish-whiteish joggers, with white trainers on my feet, a simple gold necklace around my neck with an initial pendant, a couple gold bracelets on my wrist and gold rings on my fingers. Nayeon’s in a pair of blue mom jeans and a black t-shirt, a cross body bag with both of our things inside it on her shoulder. Neither of us have bothered with full faces or pretty hairstyles – we’ve both got on basic makeup with our hair out and natural. It isn’t really that cold; it’s 8, and the air is starting to get crisp and cool, but the sun’s only just beginning to set, so there’s still a little warmth. Nayeon’s just a drama queen.

The door opens after a few seconds, Namjoon glowering at us, before he looks me up and down, his frown being replaced with a smirk. ‘Have I told you I love this new y/n? Like… this is a look,’ he says, and I grin at him, feeling a little more confident now. ‘I’m stood right here,’ Nayeon says with a half-hearted scowl, and Namjoon grins, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a side hug. ‘Nayeon, me complimenting you is like complimenting Mona Lisa. She already knew she was sexy as hell so what’s the point?’ he says easily, Nayeon preening as I roll my eyes. ‘You think Mona Lisa’s sexy?’ ‘Not as sexy as you.’ ‘Can we go inside? I’m cold,’ Nayeon says, not waiting for either of us to reply before she slips past Namjoon into the house. ‘Come on,’ Namjoon says, grabbing my hand and pulling me along behind him.

The second we step into the living room, the smell of strong cologne, alcohol and weed hits me and all eyes flit from Nayeon – who’s hugging Jinyoung and squealing – to me and Joon. Well, more me than Joon. ‘Woah. Who’s this? Surely not y/n,’ I hear Hoseok say, and I shoot him a dirty look, the boy grinning in return. ‘Shut it, stupid,’ I say, Namjoon continuing to walk towards the kitchen, dragging me along behind him. When we step into the kitchen, the smell of spicy wings hits me, and my eyes are instantly drawn to the takeout bags covering the countertop. But when I realise none of the bags are unopened, meaning frat boys have already been at them, it puts me off a little – I’d rather not eat food that might have been tampered with.

‘Look. My seat’s taken,’ Namjoon says pointedly, motioning to where Kai sits on a stool, beside Taemin and Seokwoo, the three of them laughing at whatever story Jaehyun’s telling them. ‘You’ll survive. What’s the point of having such long legs if you don’t stand on them?’ ‘There’s no logic in that. Go get my seat back,’ he says, and I side-eye him, wondering if he’s being serious or not. ‘How am I supposed to get your seat back?’ ‘Go flirt with him.’ ‘No! Him and Krystal have got a thing,’ I say, and Namjoon rolls his eyes. ‘That won’t stop him from flirting back,’ he says, and I glare at him. ‘I cannot stress this enough. Men are trash,’ I say before turning away from him, heading towards where there’s a couple dozen drink bottles and cups covering the countertop. I carefully pour myself a lemonade, making sure the cup’s clean and the bottle hasn’t been tampered with (I know Wing Wednesday is ‘for the boys’ so it’s unlikely it’s spiked, but it never hurts to take precautions).

‘y/n!’ I hear Mina exclaim, and I turn to see her stood there, smiling widely. ‘Mina!’ I squeal, pulling the girl into a hug. Mina’s one of Nayeon’s friends (they’re on the same course) but because Nayeon and I are inseparable, Nayeon’s friends are my friends too. Mina’s here because she’s dating Bambam, a KPN frat boy, and it makes me realise my privilege; Nayeon and I are only here because of our connections. If we weren’t best friends with Jackson and Namjoon, we’d have missed out on so many amazing memories. ‘How have you been? I haven’t seen you for ages!’ she says as we break apart, and I grin widely. ‘I’ve been good. Really good.’ ‘You look it. This style is, like, amazing! Is this new style permanent?’ she asks, and I smile shyly. ‘I think so. I actually… really like my new style,’ I say, and before Mina can speak, I hear Baekhyun say, ‘I like it too.’ Mina and I both turn to look at him, his stupid grin making me roll my eyes amusedly. ‘Hey, Baek,’ I say, the boy opening his arms for a hug, which I give (reluctantly). Baekhyun is Nayeon’s ex. They’re still friends – they’re actually on really good terms – but I’m still… cautious around him. He’s funny, and we get along, but I can never see him the same after hearing all the drama from Nayeon.

I clear myself a space on the countertop and boost myself up, sitting on the hard wood surface and Mina joins me, Baekhyun standing in front of us. ‘Have you had any wings?’ Baekhyun asks, and Mina and I exchange a glance, obviously thinking the same thing. ‘No, I’m… not really feeling wings,’ I say, Mina nodding in agreement, letting out little giggles behind her hand. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’ he asks, and, to be honest, I’m starving. But I am not about to eat those… frat boy wings, and neither is Mina. ‘Yeah, I could eat.’ ‘Let’s order some pizza then,’ he grins, and I gasp. ‘Pizza? On Wings Wednesday? Isn’t that against frat laws?’ I tease, and he rolls his eyes, pulling out his phone. ‘What toppings do you have?’ ‘Just get margherita.’ ‘Shall I get two larges?’ ‘Yeah, Nayeon will want some too,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes again, an amused smile on his face. ‘I’m not ordering pizza for Nayeon – I’m ordering it for us.’ ‘I’ll transfer you the money.’ ‘y/n… it’s pizza. You don’t need to transfer me money for it.’ ‘Why not? I don’t mind paying.’ ‘Yeah, but what kind of gentleman would I be if I made you pay’ ‘You’re not a gentleman,’ I reply amusedly, and he clutches his heart, pretending to be hurt. ‘I am.’ ‘You’re not. And you’ve made me pay for food before. Remember the Chinese we ordered after the LSG party, and you made me answer the door, so I had to pay?’ I say, and he winces. ‘Well… the pizza makes up for it,’ he says, and I just raise an eyebrow, amused.

It’s so… wrong that he’s only willing to pay for food for me now that he finds me attractive, but I won’t complain aloud; it’s free food after all. And then it gets me thinking. Maybe I should… take advantage of the effect my new look’s having. I mean, frat boys aren’t the… smartest, are they? Namjoon may be an exception when it comes to his education, but his common sense? He has next to none, demonstrated by the stupid situations his whore behaviour has gotten us into. And the rest of them are even stupider than him. I’ve always been a master of manipulation, and it’ll be even easier now they think I’m hot.

It isn’t long until the pizzas arrive and the second Baekhyun leaves to collect them at the door, Mina turns to me with a grin. ‘Girl, if you don’t take advantage of all these boys thirsting over you, I swear, I’ll be so disappointed,’ she says, making me burst into laughter. ‘I was literally just thinking about doing it!’ I exclaim, both of us laughing. ‘No, but for real. You should, like, make the most of it while it lasts. Not to sound nasty, but you know it won’t be long until there’s another girl they’re all into. You should exploit this opportunity whilst you’re still the… object of the affections,’ she says, making me laugh. ‘Exploit this opportunity?’ I repeat, and she nods with a grin. ‘Their generosity will only go to a certain extent,’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘Wanna test that?’ she asks, a challenging glint in her eye, and I grin, nodding. ‘Go look in the fridge, and when you’re asked what you’re looking for, say… Vanilla Coke.’ ‘Vanilla Coke?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘Okay.’

I head over to the drinks fridge (they keep their food in the mini fridge and their drinks in the big fridge – their priorities are so fucked up) and open the door. I scan the bottles, seeing mainly lemonade and coke with a couple alcoholic bottles, but no Vanilla Coke. ‘y/n!’ I hear from behind me, and I turn to see Donghyuck stood there, a big grin on his face. ‘Hyuck! Hey!’ I exclaim, throwing my arms around him. Donghyuck and I did extra credit classes together last year, and I’ve barely seen him since. ‘You look so different!’ he says, holding me away to inspect me, hands light on my shoulders, and I grin, bending one leg at the knee and striking a pose, making him laugh. ‘It’s weird to see you in clothes that fit,’ he teases, and I roll my eyes. ‘Don’t even. Everyone’s making such a big deal of it.’ ‘Yeah, because you look hot.’ ‘Whatever.’

I turn back to the fridge, and he comes to stand beside me. ‘Whatcha looking for?’ ‘Vanilla Coke. I’m, like craving it,’ I lie, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re lucky we’ve got lemonade and coke. KPN stick to basics,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Well, maybe you shouldn’t. Vanilla Coke is amazing.’ ‘Well, the corner shop down the road might have some. Shall we go get some?’ he suggests, and I’m shocked. Mina was right. He’s willing the leave Wings Wednesday with his frat brothers to go get Vanilla Coke from the shop with me. ‘You sure?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘It’s only a two-minute walk.’ ‘Okay. Let’s g-’ ‘y/n!’ I hear Mina call before materialising next to me. ‘Hey, Mina,’ I say, Donghyuck greeting the girl too. ‘Hey, Hyuck. I’m need to steal y/n. Emergency,’ she says, and my eyes widen. I’ve literally left her alone for a minute. What emergency does she have? ‘You okay?’ ‘Yeah, it’s just… I started. Do you have a pad?’ she whispers, loud enough for Donghyuck to hear, the boy wrinkling his nose in disgust, making me roll my eyes. Why boys are so grossed out about periods, I don’t know. It took two entire years of friendship with Namjoon to get him to buy me some pads. ‘Yeah, I do.’ ‘Will you come to the toilet with me?’ she asks, and I nod, apologising to Donghyuck before Mina drags me out of the kitchen, through the living room and upstairs.

‘Oh, shit! My pads are in Nayeon’s bag,’ I say when we reach the top of the stairs, and Mina lets out an annoyed noise. ‘I don’t actually need a pad, stupid! I was just getting you away from him,’ she whispers before pulling me into the bathroom. ‘What? Why?’ ‘Because now he’ll go get your Vanilla Coke from the shop and you won’t have to go with him,’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Are you kidding? He’s not gonna go.’ ‘Yes, he will,’ she says, before letting out an exasperated sigh. ‘Remember when I stayed home for a few months, because I wasn’t well?’ she asks, and I nod – Nayeon was heartbroken that she didn’t have Mina to gossip with in her lectures. ‘When I came back, all the boys were fussing over me. Trust me; he will go and get that coke.’

We spend a couple minutes in the bathroom, reapplying our lipgloss and fixing our hair, before we head back downstairs, quickly grabbing two of the empty stools in the kitchen, Bambam sat next to Mina and Namjoon sat next to me, chatting with Minho about football strategy for their next match. ‘y/n!’ I hear Donghyuck’s voice after a few minutes, making me stop mid-conversation with Yugyeom about dessert on Monday at Red Velvet (it was so good, I can’t stop thinking about it – I might have to drag Namjoon back there this weekend). I turn to see him stood at the door, holding up a bottle of Vanilla Coke, and I have to stifle a laugh, pushing down guilt. ‘Oh, my God, thank you, Hyuck! You’re the best!’ I exclaim, giving the boy a hug before he disappears to find me a clean cup. ‘I was right,’ Mina says with a grin. ‘I feel bad.’ ‘Don’t. You didn’t make him get it.’ ‘Yeah, but I’m not even gonna drink it. I don’t like Vanilla Coke.’ ‘Well, it’s a good thing I do.’

joon: u got a lecture tmrw

y/n: it’s Friday tomorrow right ?

joon: um ye how do u not know

joon: r u still drunk from last night

y/n: I wasn’t drunk! I didn’t even touch any alcohol !

joon; then y were u letting johnny touch u up

y/n: I wasn’t! there was fluff on my boob and he took it off for me !

joon: ur so naive

joon: n e ways, do u have a lecture tmrw

y/n: yeah, 1-3

joon: wanna go 4 coffee after ill pick u up

y/n: sounds good

y/n: I’ll pay

joon: no

y/n: you paid for dessert !

joon: idc, ill pay 4 coffee

joon: u save ur money 4 clothes ;)

y/n: ew

joon: bitch do u want coffee or no

y/n: yes :)))

joon: ill b there @ 3, dnt b late like monday

y/n: okayyy see you at three joonie

joon: yep, night sexc

y/n: ew

joon: fine u can walk 2 starbucks

y/n: NO I’M SORRY

y/n: joon pls answer

y/n: stop leaving me on read !

y/n: fine, you can go to starbucks by yourself

joon: sorry

joon: y/n

joon: r u there

joon: bitch answer me

joon: ignore me if u wanna fuck

y/n: you’re such an idiot

joon: gn y/nie

y/n: night stupid, ilyyyy

joon: luv u 2 dummy

‘Hi, welcome to Starbucks! What can I get you?’ the barista asks, smiling widely. He’s handsome, with dirty blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and sparkling brown eyes, and I can’t help but smile back. ‘Hi, can I get two large iced vanilla lattes please?’ I ask, the boy nodding as he clicks away at the register. My eyes flit to his little name tag. His name is Hyunjin. Cute. ‘What name shall I put on the cups?’ he asks, eyes sparkling when he looks back up at me, and I smile shyly when I say, ‘y/n.’ ‘Pretty name for a pretty girl,’ he replies, not giving me a moment to process the compliment before he says, ‘that’ll be £7.40. Cash or card?’ ‘Card,’ a voice behind me says, and I turn to see Jaemin stood there, smiling. ‘Can I add a large iced americano to that too?’ he says, holding up his card, and Hyunjin nods, tapping at the register. ‘Jaemin, don’t. I’ll pay,’ I say, though it’s Namjoon’s money in my hand, not my own. ‘It’s fine, y/n. I don’t mind,’ he says with a grin, and I smile back, touched.

Jaemin moves around me to pay for the three drinks, and I feel a little awkward, stood behind him, waiting. ‘How have you been, y/n?’ he asks once he’s paid, and I smile. ‘I’ve been really good, thanks. How about you?’ ‘Yeah, great. You look… different since the last time I saw you,’ he says with a little smirk, and I roll my eyes, an amused smile playing at my lips. ‘I’m assuming that was a compliment.’ ‘Of course. How could it be anything other than a compliment when the ‘different’ I’m talking about is this?’ he says with a flirty grin, motioning to my outfit (a pair of tight black cargo trousers and a long-sleeved black top, big black stomper boots on my feet and silver jewellery).

Jaemin flirts with me for a little while, but his americano is ready before mine and Joon’s lattes and he has a lecture at 3.30, so he leaves with the promise of continuing our conversation at the ASP party tomorrow, which I had no idea about. ‘y/n!’ Hyunjin calls and I go over to grab the lattes. I notice a caramel shortbread on a plate beside the cups, and I look up at him questioningly, the boy grinning back. ‘It’s on the house,’ he says, and I can’t help but let out a giggle, flattered. ‘Thank you.’ ‘No problem… y/n. I’m a student, at the university, and I heard your… friend talking about the party tomorrow. I’ll be there, and it’d be nice to see you,’ he says, smiling as he leans against the counter casually, my heart jumping. He’s hot, he’s confident and he’s sweet – I could definitely see myself getting to know him. ‘Yeah, it’d be nice to see you too,’ I reply shyly, breaking off our eye contact after a few seconds. ‘See you tomorrow then,’ he grins before turning to deal with the next customer.

I carefully take the lattes and the shortbread over to mine and Joon’s table in the corner, the boy instantly biting into the shortbread. ‘That is mine.’ ‘I paid for your coffee, so I can have a bite of your shortbread,’ he says, mouth full of food, and I scrunch my nose up in disgust, sitting down opposite him. ‘No, actually, you didn’t. Jaemin did,’ I say, dropping Joon’s money on the table in front of him, and he frowns. ‘Who’s Jaemin? The cute barista you were just flirting with?’ he asks drily as he picks up one of the coffees, taking a sip. ‘No, his name’s Hyunjin. And I wasn’t flirting with him,’ I say, embarrassed, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Then what’s this?’ he asks, holding his cup out to me. I can’t hold back my smile when I see that Hyunjin’s written his number on the label with a smiley face beside it. ‘Exactly what I thought. Anyway… who’s Jaemin?’ ‘KPN Jaemin. He was behind me in the queue and he paid for our drinks. And then Hyunjin gave me the shortbread for free,’ I say, and Joon narrows his eyes at me.

‘I can’t believe you’re making these boys do all these things for you.’ ‘They’re doing it voluntarily – I’m not making them do anything!’ ‘So you didn’t make Donghyuck get your Vanilla Coke on Wednesday?’ ‘No, he choose to go get it!’ ‘Well, you’re putting Tia and Tamera to good use.’ ‘Tia and Tamera?’ I ask, confused, and he points at my chest. ‘Tia… and Tamera,’ he says, naming each boob, ‘don’t you listen to Doja Cat?’ ‘Not religiously – Say So’s the only song of hers on my Spotify.’ ‘Tasteless.’ ‘You’re tasteless for accusing me of using my boobs to manipulate boys,’ I hiss, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Did I lie?’ ‘Yes!’ ‘Okay, maybe I did. It’s not just Tia and Tamera. It’s Tia and Tamera and… Nicole!’ he says, and I blink in confusion. ‘Nicole?’ ‘Use your brain.’ ‘Did you just name my ass Nicole?’ I ask incredulously, and he nods, seemingly proud of himself. ‘People look at it more than they look at your face, so I think it deserves naming,’ he says bitterly, and I gasp. ‘That was low. People look at my face. I’m not just my body. My face is pretty too,’ I say coldly, a little hurt, and he looks guilty. ‘Well, of course your face is pretty, I just-’ ‘You just what? Judged me, even though you’ve slept with more girls than I’ve ever been friends with? Just remember that there’s a lot you’ve done that I could judge you on, but I don’t, because we’re best friends.’

The air is tense after I finish speaking, and I feel sick. Joon and I have never argued. Our friendship has always been so laidback, so chill, so easy. I’ve never had any downs in my friendship with him because we get along so well. But I’m surprised at him being so judgmental, and so… douchey about me getting some male attention for the first time in… well, forever. ‘Sorry, y/n. I’m being a dick,’ he says softly, and I can see that he feels guilty. I decide it’s best to end our argument here, because this isn’t a nice feeling. ‘Whatever, it’s fine, Joon. Anyway… you didn’t tell me ASP are having a party tomorrow! Am I not invited?’ I tease, and he grins, the tension between us gone. ‘No, you’re not. I’m tired of you being so dependent on me.’ ‘Shut it. You’d be lost without me.’ ‘Whatever. I was supposed to tell you about it at KPN, but I barely got to speak to you. You were… popular that night,’ he says quietly, not meeting my eyes, and suddenly, I can feel the awkwardness making a reappearance. ‘Ah, well, I guess there’s no point asking you to take me to Red Velvet then,’ I say wistfully, trying to change the subject, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Ask Wang, he’ll take you.’ ‘No, it’s fine. I don’t wanna be bloated at the party. We can reschedule to Sunday – order some for a hangover cure. Can I sleep over?’ I ask, and he nods, smiling to himself. ‘You and Nayeon are always welcome. There’s enough bed space for the three of us.’ ‘You say that, and yet, you end up on the floor with us two in your bed every time.’ ‘I’ll climb in with you while you’re asleep.’ ‘Isn’t that illegal?’ ‘Shut up and eat your shortbread. Or do you not wanna be bloated?’ ‘Matter of fact, you’re right. These cargo trousers are already tight.’ ‘That’s because you’ve got a fat ass.’

y/n: hey, is this hyunjin ? from Starbucks ?

hyunjin: yeah, and is this y/n ? the pretty cargo trousers girl ?

y/n: the one and only ☺️

hyunjin: I was worried you wouldn’t reach out to me after I saw you go and sit with that boy

hyunjin: I felt terrible bc I didn’t even ask if you had a boyfriend

y/n: oh no, he isn’t my boyfriend

y/n: he’s my best friend, namjoon

hyunjin: as in kim namjoon ?

y/n: yep, you’ve probably heard of him lol

hyunjin: I have lmao he has quite a reputation

hyunjin: I didn’t recognise him

hyunjin: I just saw you go and sit with a handsome boy and I felt awful

y/n: well, you don’t have to feel bad

y/n: and he’s not that handsome lmao

y/n: he’s just… namjoon

hyunjin: well, I’ll have to thank him when I see him

hyunjin: if he hadn’t given you my number from his cup, I’d have felt like an idiot

y/n: it’s a good thing he pointed it out to me lol

hyunjin: yeah, I’m relieved

hyunjin: I know it’s forward of me and I hope you don’t think I’m out of line

hyunjin; but I just thought you were really cute and I didn’t want to waste the opportunity

hyunjin: especially after jaemin paid for your drinks and flirted with you

hyunjin: I know it sounds silly but I was debating whether or not it was worth competing with him

y/n: jaemin’s not really interested, he flirts with anything that has a pulse

y/n: but I’m glad you didn’t waste the opportunity

y/n: I thought you were cute too, and I love your hair

hyunjin: ah thank you! I was a little nervous about growing it out

y/n: it’s unique, and it really suits you

hyunjin: thanks y/n :)

hyunjin: it’s late so I’m gonna head to bed but I’m glad you texted me, and I look forward to seeing you tomorrow !

y/n: okay, hyunjin, goodnight ! see you tomorrow :)

hyunjin: goodnight ! :)

joon: do u need a lift tmrw

y/n: no, jackson said he’s gonna pick us up

y/n: but thank you for offering anywayyy

joon: ok

joon: why did it take you 30 mins 2 reply its lit rally 2am, what else r u busy with

y/n: I was texting

joon: who

y/n: oh, just the, um, the girls groupchat, to talk about what we’re gonna wear tomorrow

joon: ok

y/n: I’m gonna go to bed, I’ll speak to you tomorrow

joon: aight gn dum dum

y/n: night joonie, sweet dreamsss

joon: ill dream of u in ur crop tops

y/n: pervert

joon: luv u ;)

y/n: love you more dumbass

‘y/n! y/n! y/n!’ ‘Oh, my God, Nayeon, you’re like a child! I’m mid-conversation!’ ‘I know, but this is important!’ she says, tugging on the strap of my top, her force nearly making me spill my drink down my outfit. I thought I’d dress simple, in just a black strappy lowcut crop top and a pair of ripped blue jeans, fluffy black slides on my feet and simple gold jewellery to accessorise. ‘Sorry, Dahyun,’ I sigh with a roll of my eyes, the girl grinning back. ‘It’s fine – go deal with your important business,’ she laughs, and Nayeon takes this as a signal to drag me into the kitchen, leaving Dahyun alone in the back garden. ‘What is it?’ I ask, and she grins. ‘I found your cute barista boy! Well, I think so, anyway. Not many boys have dirty blond ponytails.’ ‘Oh… okay.’ ‘Aren’t you excited?’ ‘I think you’re excited enough for both of us.’ ‘I’m serious, y/n! I saw him, and he’s really hot! You’ve been texting all day, and you said he’s really sweet. He could be your first boyfriend!’ ‘Nayeon, you’re getting ahead of yourself – I’ve literally known him for… 32 hours. And I don’t even know him, really. All I know is his name and that he works at Starbucks.’ ‘Well… this is your chance to get to know him. He’s with his friends in the living room – go,’ she says, not giving me a chance to reply before she pushes me through the open door.

He spots me instantly, calling my name, and I scan the room until my eyes meet his, smiles breaking across our faces as he waves me over. I head around the edges of the room, not wanting to get caught in the group of people dancing, until I reach him and his friends in the corner. ‘Hey, y/n! You look nice!’ he exclaims, smiling widely, and I feel butterflies; he really is so handsome. ‘Thanks, Hyunjin. You do, too,’ I say honestly, looking him up and down; his black jeans, loose blue and white striped shirt only buttoned halfway with a black t-shirt beneath are a chic and stylish contrast to the Starbucks apron he was wearing yesterday. Half of his hair is up in a ponytail with a few loose strands framing his face and his ears are adorned with earrings, sparkling in the low light. He introduces me to his friends, who all seem nice (I think I’ve seen a few of them before – I’m sure a couple of them are KPN frat brothers). As soon as the introductions are done, he asks if I’ll go with him to get a drink. He takes my hand gently – a shock running up my arm at the contact – and leads me into the kitchen, getting himself a bottle of Soju from the fridge. ‘Do you want one?’ he asks, and I scrunch up my nose – I find Soju absolutely disgusting. ‘Thanks, but I’ll stick to my vodka coke for now,’ I say, holding up my cup, the boy laughing as he nods, shutting the fridge after him.

We stand in one corner of the kitchen, chatting, and our conversation flows so easily. He’s an architecture and design major, but he does dance on the side too, with some of his friends. I ask him to tell me the basic things about him and I find out that he has a dog called Kkami, he loves autumn, he’s allergic to cat fur, his favourite food is sushi and his least favourite foods are onion, carrot and eggplant. Even though he’s so handsome (like intimidatingly handsome), he’s so modest, down-to-earth, and just so sweet. He’s like a breath of fresh air in comparison to the boys I spend time with on a daily basis (no shade to Jackson and Joon, but they’re nowhere near as gentlemanly as Hyunjin – he gets me two refills before I even realise that my cup is empty, and he gets me two slices of pizza as soon as it arrives because I mentioned I hadn’t eaten). I can already feel myself crushing on him; every time he compliments me, I get so flustered and all I can do is giggle – two weeks ago me would have hated now me.

After what could be hours (I’m having the time of my life chatting away to him), he asks me to dance with him, and I’m filled with an inexplicable fear. Actually, no. It’s explicable; I have never danced at a party before. Ever. ‘It’s okay… I won’t bite,’ he teases, and I take a deep breath, smiling as I nod. He takes my hand again, his touch so light and gentle, and instead of pulling me along behind him, he lets me go first, standing just a few inches behind me as we head into the living room. We mould into the group of our peers dancing, and I feel a little awkward at first, but I soon loosen up into the rhythm of the Rihanna and Bryson Tiller song pulsing out into the room. He’s really the perfect gentleman; he doesn’t lay a hand on me other than to move me out of the way when someone drunk stumbles past. It’s a nice change from the boys that don’t hesitate to just come up behind a girl and grab onto her waist, forcing himself onto her.

But after a while, I can feel the several vodka cokes starting to take effect, my mind a little hazy, and a tipsy y/n mixed with the RnB baselines floating out from the speakers isn’t a good combination. Hyunjin’s tan skin glows in the low light, his eyes sparkling, and he looks so fucking handsome, his plump lips stretching up into a flawless grin when I hook my arms around his neck loosely, moving closer. We dance a little more… intimately, our bodies pressed together after a few minutes, and his hands rest on my lower back, not venturing any lower, and his eyes stay on my face, even though my cleavage is right there. His gentlemanliness just makes him even sexier to me.

I look up at him, and notice that some of his hair in his face, and so I reach to brush it back behind his ear. His hair is so soft, the locks just gliding between my fingers, and I can’t help but run my fingers through the loose hair that he hasn’t pulled up into a ponytail, my nails gently scraping against the back of his neck. He shivers a little, his neck obviously sensitive, and it makes me look him in the eyes, practically getting lost in them. And before my brain can even register it, he leans towards me and my eyes flutter shut, his lips softly brushing against mine a few moments later. My first kiss.

He moves away, almost to check if I’m okay with it, and I just lean towards him, pressing our lips together again, making him let out a chuckle against my mouth. My mind numbs a little when he parts my lips with his, his tongue sliding into my mouth, and I really didn’t know that kissing was this good. His hands press into my back, holding me against him, and I grip onto his strong shoulders, his scent of lemony shampoo and expensive aftershave flooding my senses as our lips move against each other. ‘y/n, get a room!’ I hear Jin, one of Joon’s stupid friends, shout, followed by laughter, making me break away from Hyunjin, blinking as though I’ve just woken up, Hyunjin just smiling back at me. I turn to Jin, shooting him a dirty look and telling him to fuck off before turning back to Hyunjin. I feel braver than usual due to the alcohol and the fact that I’ve just kissed a boy I met yesterday in the middle of a frat party, and so I ask, ‘do you… want to get a room?’ ‘Um… what?’ he asks, blinking, and I feel the humiliation setting in already. ‘I mean, we don’t have to… but I thought you might want t-’ ‘Yes. I do want to.’

We’re both laughing drunkenly as we head up the stairs (it seems the several bottles of Soju he’s had have made him a little tipsy), our hands clasped together. ‘Whose room are we using?’ ‘Um, we can use Namjoon’s. I’m sure he won’t mind – he’ll be proud I’ve finally kissed a boy,’ I say, leading him into Joon’s room. The second we enter, he shuts the door, pushing me up against it and pressing our lips together again, his body against mine and our hands still intertwined against the door. I tangle my free hand into his soft locks, his free hand gently roaming up and down my side, and it’s bliss, the way he touches me. He’s such a good kisser – though it’s not like I have much experience anyway. ‘Did you say I’m your first kiss?’ he asks, lips moving against mine, and I let out a little noise of affirmation, the boy grinning. ‘Good,’ he murmurs, the word making my stomach turn with butterflies.

But it’s like I’m not allowed good things. There’s a loud hammering against the other side of the door, making both of us jump, and I manage to move out of the way just before it flies open, Namjoon storming in, anger all over his face. ‘y/n,’ he says, voice shaking, and I look at him in concern, wondering what’s happened. ‘Joon, are you okay?’ ‘No, I’m not,’ he says, teeth gritted, and it’s then that I realise; he’s angry at me. ‘Oh, did you… should I have asked you if I could use your room? I didn’t think you’d mind, I’m so-’ ‘God, you’re so fucking dense!’ he shouts, making me flinch, and Hyunjin looks between us before saying, ‘y/n, I’m gonna go, you guys speak in private. I’ll… be downstairs.’ I nod, too shocked to speak, and even more shocked at the way Namjoon stares daggers at Hyunjin as he slips past him.

‘What’s your problem? There’s no need to be such a dick to me, or to Hyunjin.’ ‘Oh, so you do know his name? I’m surprised, since you only met him yesterday.’ ‘Stop being so fucking judgy! You’re allowed to fuck anything with a vagina, but I kiss a boy I met yesterday and the world’s ending!’ ‘I’m not judgy, y/n, I’m jealous! Can’t you fucking tell?’ he practically screams, and the words don’t register with me for a moment. ‘Jealous?’ I echo, and he lets out a humourless laugh, sinking down onto his bed. ‘Yes, y/n, jealous. I’ve only been in love with you for two fucking years,’ he mutters, the words hitting me like a ton of bricks. He’s in love with me. My best friend is in love with me. ‘Joon, I-’ ‘You what, y/n?’ he asks angrily, and I’m filled with such rage, I want to slap him.

‘I didn’t know! If you’d told me, I’d understand why you’re so angry! But you didn’t, so stop fucking shouting at me, and being such a dick, and making me feel guilty when I shouldn’t!’ ‘There was no point telling you, because you don’t love me back!’ he shouts, and now I feel even more guilty. ‘I love you, Joon, but as my best frie-’ ‘And that’s why I didn’t tell you! I could deal before, when I was still getting to spend time with you every day, but now that you’re getting all this attention from all these boys, it’s so… difficult.’ ‘You still should have told me,’ I say quietly, and he scoffs. ‘There was no point! It doesn’t change anything! You still don’t like me!’ ‘No, I don’t, but you shouldn’t be angry at me about it.’ ‘I think I have a right to be angry!’ he shouts, and my eyes fill with tears. ‘Well, you don’t! Forgive me, Namjoon, but you’re not exactly a gentleman. Why would I fall for a boy that has a different girl in his bed every day, who plays girls like it’s his job, who’s misogynistic and vulgar and a dog? You don’t get to be such a dick to women and have your best friend fall in love with you, because it doesn’t work that way!’

‘Oh, and Hyunjin isn’t a dick?’ ‘No! He’s sweet, and he’s kind, an-’ ‘You’ve known him for one day, and you’re already rushing upstairs to lose your fucking virginity to him! I thought you’d care more about your first time!’ he shouts, still so judgmental, and I feel myself practically shaking with rage. How dare he behave the way he does and judge me, even though he’s supposedly in love with me? ‘Why do you care who I lose my virginity to?’ ‘Because I’m in love with you! Aren’t you fucking keeping up?’ ‘No, Namjoon, you’re not in love with me. If you were, you’d be happy that I’m happy. Instead you’re possessive and judgemental and douchey!’ We’re shouting at each other now, and anyone outside will be able to hear, but I don’t care. Let them hear how much of a dick he is. ‘I loved who you were, when-’ ‘When what? When boys didn’t talk to me? When you and Jackson were the only boys I spoke to at parties? When I was pure, untouched, innocent? Now, you’re annoyed, because I’m not who you thought I was. I don’t owe you anything, Namjoon, because you can’t expect me to have just known.’

‘Just go, y/n,’ he says, all of the anger in him disappearing, and he sounds so tired, looks so tired. And, as always, I feel guilty. ‘Joon-’ ‘No. Please, just go,’ he says, and when he looks up at me, my heart breaks. His eyes are full of tears, sadness, hurt, but the second they land on mine, they’re filled with love, too. Love that I can’t reciprocate because, he might be my best friend, but he is disgusting to girls. And I can’t love that. I can’t love him. ‘Okay. I’ll go,’ I whisper, turning away and leaving his room before I burst into tears.

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rainbowwritesthings · 4 years ago

Text

A Place On Earth

Yanking the door open with Butchers name on his lips, he came face to face with MM and Butcher standing a bit of a way behind him. The events that lead to that point crashed into him and his heart became deafening in his ears, he could feel the knife buried into his ribs but couldn’t feel the object no matter how much he grasped at it.

Second chapter of I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight.

Hughie stared blankly at the ceiling, blinking at the shocking white that surrounded him, everything felt numb and he was brought back to when he had gotten his wisdom teeth removed years ago.

Awareness took its time visiting Hughie and when it granted him enough presence he sat up with a grunt, his chest felt oddly tight for some reason and when his hand brushed a certain area he shivered.

Some deep part of his lizard brain was screaming at him that something was wrong, that he needed to get up and leave now. Hughie had successfully gotten out of the bed when he noticed his attire, plaid pajama pants and an oversized shirt that he had never seen before.

The numbness was receding and with it Hughie realized he wasn’t in his apartment, he was in one of the safehouses. Yanking the door open with Butchers name on his lips, he came face to face with MM and Butcher standing a bit of a way behind him.

The events that lead to that point crashed into him and his heart became deafening in his ears, he could feel the knife buried into his ribs but couldn’t feel the object no matter how much he grasped at it.

Hughie couldn’t breathe again; his lungs were filled with blood and it caked his throat as thoroughly as tar. A hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder and Hughie fought it back with a strangled shout, loud buzzing was just barely audible over his heart.

Instead of Soldier Boy a very blurry but familiar face swam into his view, blinking hard and rubbing at his eyes Hughie was better able to see the man kneeling before him. The familiar rumble and what it was saying was lost to Hughie, as was the expression the man wore. Hughie forced air into his burning lungs.

“I- didn’t.”

It was too hard to breathe, he was drowning again, the bones from his shattered ribs were pressing into his only good lung. “I didn’t know. Swear to god I didn’t-.”

The way Butcher had looked at him with horror filled his mind and spots danced around his vision, from his shaky gaze he watched Butcher rise and walk off.

Fuck, was the man going to bring out his crowbar to see what he could come back from?

MM was suddenly kneeling before him; both his hands were held up and his posture was purposefully non-threatening. His lips moved continuously, and Hughie found himself trying to focus on them. When MM saw the spark of awareness, he tried to help the man out.

“It’s ok now, just breathe. In and out. Ain’t nothing going to happen to you while I’m here. Easy Hughie, in and out.”

He began taking exaggerated breaths and Hughie tried to match them with unsuccess, time disappeared and was filled with Hughie taking in shuttering breaths to match MM’s exaggerated ones with occasional praises from the medic about how Hughie was doing.

Finally oxygen was reaching it’s necessary locations in his body and Hughie realized he was sitting on the floor. He glanced around the room wide eyed, searching for something but even Hughie didn’t know what he was looking for.

MM had lowered his hands and gave the man a small smile, “there we go. Now, I’m going to grab you some water ok?”

Hughie gave a jerky nod and as MM rose to retrieve said water, he wondered where the rest were. Though he mainly wondered were Butcher had stalked off to after his brief appearance. MM made sure he was noticed before he crouched in front of him, every move was steady and easy for the shaken man to be able to track.

When he held out the water bottle Hughie thanked him, though he knew that his words were likely to jumbled for the other to understand when even he, the man speaking couldn’t understand what words escaped his lips.

It wasn’t until Hughie was reaching out to grab the bottle that he realized how badly his hand was shaking and he needed both hands to even grip the plastic. He took two sips under MM’s watchful eye before setting it down now to him, most likely making sure the man didn’t drown while trying to drink.

Hughie had calmed down from his earlier moment of panic, but now fear had replaced the panic that consumed him.

“What- “

He cleared his throat in hopes that the other words he had to say would come out less cracked.

“What’s the plan?”

MM rose an eyebrow at the question and Hughie wished he would just rip the band-aid off and tell him already. Explain to him how they were going to finish him and what they would do with the pieces, logically Hughie knew his true corpse would most likely resemble Translucants’s remains.

“So far the plan is to stay low, figure some things out before putting together a real plan on how to take care of SB.”

Despite MM not saying the full name, Hughie still flinched and saw those hazel eyes staring absolutely bored over his whole existence. MM didn’t say anything but was watching Hughie intently after discussing the groups plan of action, no matter how flimsy it currently sounded.

“No, I mean- What’s the plan for me? How are you going to-“

Hughie couldn’t finish the question. The words got trapped in his throat, stuck around the thick blood that was creeping ever forward. His chest felt tight once again.

MM wasn’t looking at him now but when he did look at Hughie his eyes displayed his inner distress, “Hughie man, we ain’t going to kill you.”

Hughie felt a sudden burst of hysteria.

“Don’t lie to try and protect my feelings MM. I fucking died alright?! Yet here I am! I’m a godamn Supe and who the fuck knows what powers I have. You, Frenchie and Kimiko may learn to be ok with that but Butcher-. He stared at me like I was a monster and I’m with him on that one.”

MM’s face morphed into a scowl, he obviously wanted to fight everything Hughie had said but instead he bit his tongue, and he shook his head.

“Almost everything you just said was bullshit man, and you need to listen close when I say that no matter what you can do it’ll never make you a monster.”

Hughie believed that MM believed his own words, but that didn’t change the fact he was a Supe in a relationship with a man who hated Supes more than anything. Personally he would rather everything that was going to happen, happen now rather than waiting for months for the other shoe to drop.

When it did Hughie doubted there’d be much left of him anywhere- and oh god his father.

“Ok, ok. Look MM you need to promise me something.”

The man gave him a long look before sighing, “I won’t promise anything ‘till I hear what it is. I learned my lesson a long time ago with Butcher.”

Hughie nodded and took a steading breath before he went forward.

“Look when I die for real and permanently, however that works. You have to give my dad an actual body to bury. I don’t care if Frenchie fixes up a mannequin, he won’t look that close once he thinks it’s me, but he needs a place to actually mourn at. I don’t- he can’t spend the rest of his life waiting for me to come home, he doesn’t deserve that.”

Somewhere in Hughie’s youth he developed an intense fear of going missing, not just because of what it meant for Hughie and the whole human trafficking thing. Mainly the fear surrounded what effect it would have on his father.

Hughie’s mother walking out the door and dissolving into the mist had crushed a large part of the man’s soul. If his son were to do the same, it would destroy whatever was left of Hugh.

MM looked at him with a hard expression before he let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his head.

“Yeah, I promise.”

Hughie let out a breath of relief, at least his father would find some semblance of peace though he knew it wouldn’t ease the pain. MM was staring at him again and Hughie gave him a weak smile, which caused the man to shake his head and stand up.

“I don’t know what’s goin’ on inside that head of yours, but I can tell you it’s way off.”

Hughie let out a small huff of laughter, and MM looked down with an odd expression.

“Now first of all, don’t panic. Butcher has something he wants to say to you. We’ll all be in the other room just in case things go south, but you should hear him out.”

Instantly Hughie’s heart picked up, thrumming adrenaline throughout his body by the mere idea of the man glowering down at him. However, MM looked so assured that everything would be alright that Hughie could only nod numbly.

He already had the man’s assurance that his father would have proper closure, Hughie couldn’t very well demand more from the group after unintentionally fooling them for however long he had compound V running through his veins.

MM leaned down to clasp Hughie’s shoulder and giving a reassuring squeeze, before nodding one last time and leaving the room.

Hughie stared at the suspiciously stained floor underneath of him, looking for answers about what he was or even just a purpose for all that he had been through meant. He heard a door open, heavy footstep pausing just briefly in the doorframe before the door creaked shut.

For many people being so close to an inevitable demise would act as a chance to confirm their faith or find a new. Any other person would be considering their fate, trying to make amends with everything that they had done wrong and begging for forgiveness.

Yet all Hughie could think of was memories his mother’s smile as she prompted a dance to a Billy Joel song. His father who had been through agony but still tried to stay approachable for his son, and who tried to maintain a bond with Hughie.

Robin who made him feel alive and like a human for the first time in his life, who cracked his shell wide open and let him experience how fun everything could be. Kimiko who was often so closed off but still learned ASL with him, she figured it long before he did but took the time to help him along so they could talk freely.

Frenchie would always call him petite and smile like he was legitimately happy to see him every time the pair met up. It didn’t matter if it had been days since Hughie saw him or just hours, the man always seemed excited to see him alive.

Mother’s Milk was a mother hen, always pestering Hughie about how much he was eating or sleeping, all with concern hidden firmly under a strong exterior.

Annie, who he now considered his closest and best friend. She would be the angriest towards Butcher when the man figured out how to kill a Lazarus Supe, with any luck they wouldn’t kill each other in the fallout of the reveal.

Finally Billy, who hated Supes as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. Perhaps it was the thing keeping him alive, allowing him to survive things that no mortal could have lived through.

Hughie could remember Billy’s arms around him, pulling him firmly against his body whether it was when they were wrapped together post cotial, or in the early morning when Butcher woke up long before he did and held the younger man tightly.

He could hear Billy whispering in his ear how the man would keep Hughie safe, no matter the cost. Finally, he could see Billy staring down at him with a look of pure despair as he watched Hughie bleed out.

Hughie knew that the despair was driven out of his apparent death and that considering what he was now that he would be lucky beyond belief if Butcher would even look at him without animosity.

His gaze kept firmly onto the floor until dark clothed legs stepped in front of him, familiar boots filled his vision and despite his best-efforts Hughie’s breath still caught in his chest. Hughie watched as dark legs bent and Butcher was kneeling in front of him, but kept his eyes away from the older mans face.

It wasn’t until Butcher let out a breath that could be mistaken for a sigh that Hughie braved a look at the other man. Butchers face was tight, every stress line was exasperated, and his lips were pulled together.

Butcher’s jaw worked for a long few moments before he looked back up, “alright lad just hear me out.”

#rainbowwritesstuff #tw: panic attack #Butchie #billy x hughie #billy butcher #hughie campbell #mother's milk #secretly a Supe Hughie

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jimlingss · 5 years ago

Text

The President’s Son [15]

Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 15.5 OR Chapter 16

➜ Words: 2.7k

➜ Genres: 100% Fluff, Slice of Life, Bodyguard!AU

➜ Summary: Kim Taehyung is the President’s son, mischievous and playful, and infamous for being a troublemaker. When everyone’s given up, they call for you to be his personal guard. There’s no other choice when your dad’s assigned you to it and surprisingly Taehyung doesn’t mind either. Maybe because you happened to grow up with that brat.

It’s getting harder to understand Taehyung. And even harder to comprehend your reaction.

“Hold my book for a second, dumbo.” He rudely chucks it aside, and you barely manage to catch it. It’s piled on top of the other textbooks you’re holding for him like a maid, the tower tipping back and forth, nearly spilling all to the ground. Your glare is unforgiving. “Can’t you ask me nicel—” Taehyung suddenly drops down. “Your shoelaces are untied.” “O-oh.” The college student ties your sneakers gingerly, making sure they’re secure. He loops two bunny ears around the knot and then stands up with a smile. “All done! Now you won’t trip. I can’t always be there to catch you.” Taehyung takes his book off the pile you’re holding and walks off. You’re left staring at his backside before you pick up the pace, unable to help feeling a little perplexed and caught off guard. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to understand him and predict his actions — but it’s not like they were ever predictable in the first place. He’s always had a knack for spontaneity. It’s your susceptibility to surprise, that’s changed. “I know you said you weren’t hungry—” Taehyung sits down across the picnic table and slides a brown bag towards you. “—but I got you the jelly doughnut. It was on discount. You liked this one, right?” “Y-yeah. Thanks.” You watch him go to town on his hash brown, chomping like a ravenous beast. You’re agitated, muddled, but also more than that. You’re not sure what this emotion is. It’s puzzling to pinpoint, challenging and strenuous on your mind. You just know it’s different from annoyance, disenchantment, and the usual disenthrallment. “Oh, look!” Taehyung’s pointing to your left shoulder. When you look down, you’re unable to see what he’s indicating. Running out of patience and without thinking twice, he leans himself over. You flinch back on natural instinct, but he’s undeterred, paying no mind to the reaction that’s conditioned you since childhood. You feel his chest hovering above yours, thin lips a millimeter away, and you hold your breath. But Taehyung’s eyes are nowhere near your body; his stare isn’t greasy or purposely flirtatious. It stays quiet for a moment too long before he draws back. “It’s a ladybug.” Taehyung shows you with a grin, one that had landed on your shoulder, and one he sets down into the grass behind him. “See you later, little guy.” You’re absolutely bewildered, though finally able to breathe again. There are times Taehyung’s unbearably cheesy and teasing, trying to get under your skin or vying for a reaction when he yearns for a kind of attention he receives from nowhere else, much like how he was when he was a kid. But the times that affect you the most are his unintentional actions — when he’s being sincere, genuine, his innocent self. You’re not sure what to think of it. It’s confusing. And the worst part is you can’t comprehend Taehyung lately — your own head’s become chaotic and you’re not quite certain of the reason for it. “Y/N, hang on tight.” Taehyung pedals harder and glances over his shoulder. “The road ahead’s under construction. It’s gonna be bumpy.” “Want to switch spots?” “Nope,” he sings. “Just hold onto me.” You obliged, grasping onto him, locking your wrists together around his waist. Apparently it’s not enough. “Tighter.” Your head leans on him, front pressed against his back, holding on. Taehyung laughs, the noise drawing out from his chest, and you can already envision his satisfied grin. “Good.” You wonder since when his laugh became so melodic and pleasant to listen to. It seems when he’s not trying whatsoever, he’s the most charming. When Taehyung’s not trying to flirt or retain intense eye contact or shower you in excessive compliments — and instead being his mischievous self, caring in quiet ways without making a whole show about it, laughing and smiling — he’s the most charismatic, much like his dad. The magnetism that draws people in seems to run through the Kim blood. Maybe you just never realized it before, but stepping back from your own biases and objectively analyzing him, Taehyung is rather appealing. He has a handful of good traits, and you’ve noticed the way females and males murmur as he walks past or stares across the room, not quite because of malicious rumours either or due to his status. He’s a tall, strapping, blonde fellow. Even before when he had shaggy hair and was trying to grow a moustache, he wasn’t terrible on the eyes. Now that you recognize it, you gotta give it to him...he’s impressive in many ways. You wonder why you’re only recognizing this now. Why you didn’t see it sooner. Maybe your childhoods that overlapped inhibited your perception and clouded your judgment, or perhaps you had learnt to overlook such trivial details. But if there’s one thing that you’re beginning to learn about Taehyung, it’s that he’s the most attractive when he’s serious. You wish more people saw him like this — they wouldn’t take his words or opinions for granted otherwise. Though now that you know this, you don’t really need a front row ticket to it... “You want to what?” “I want to draw you.” “Absolutely not.” “Why?” Taehyung pouts and he doesn’t know it’s because you don’t want him to stare at you intently, because it would be too intimate for your liking. As good as you are at pretending you’re a statue at social events, this is not part of your job description. The last thing you are is a piece of art. “I promise it’ll be quick. Half an hour, tops. I just need a rough sketch of someone as part of my portfolio.” A sigh befalls your lips. “Can’t you pick someone else?” “I don’t have anyone else. C’mon, it’s for school. Don’t you have to make sure I’m doing well in my schooling too?” “But…” You look down at yourself. You’re not one to pay mind to futile things like your outer appearance, but you know you’re not in appropriate attire to be sketched. Once it’s permanently on paper, there’s no going back or reversing time. “I’m not even dressed properly, Taehyung.” “You look fine,” he emphasizes and reaches over, grabbing your elbow. Taehyung walks you towards the center of the small studio. He turns you away from the sunlight, holds your shoulders and scoots you an inch to his right until it’s to his liking. “There. Good. Now stay still, okay?” He smiles and struts back, plopping down onto his stool. With a sketchbook in hand, he looks up and begins. The sound of graphite scratching against the paper fills the space between the four walls. It’s awkward, dreadful as you stare straight at him, and you release your held breath. “Do you want me to pose?” “No.” There’s a full ten seconds of silence. “Just stay still.” You feel out of place, stiff. The only thing you do is blink and barely breathe, not wanting to ruin his efforts. “Can I ask you something, dumbo?” Taehyung mutters out of the corner of his mouth, eyes still pinned to his sketchbook. “I...guess.” “It’s kind of a stupid question, but I’m really curious as to what you’ll answer. So….think about it before you answer.” He hesitates for a moment and then goes for the kill. “Would you ever date me?” “What?” You blink at him, unsure how to answer. “Don’t move,” he suddenly barks out and you freeze at once, catching yourself halfway to stepping forward. “Thanks. Anyways I said, would you ever hypothetically date me or go out with me?” “I don’t date.” “Yeah, but let’s pretend that you did,” he mutters again and doesn’t even look at you properly to read your expression. Taehyung’s still concentrated, brows furrowed, the tip of his tongue peeking past the seam of his lips. His pencil comes out to measure something and then he quickly returns to the sketchbook. It’s not uncomfortable when he’s not full on staring and waiting for you to respond. There’s less pressure when he gives you time to reply. “Well….that would be highly unprofessional. I’m your bodyguard—” “Then let’s pretend you’re not,” he says carelessly as if this is small talk or a game of ‘would you rather’ to pass the time and make you less bored. You hum, unintentionally relaxing in your spot as you give in and consider this what-if scenario he’s handed to you. “In a hypothetical world where I happen to have enough time and commitment to want to even date and I’m not your bodyguard and we happen to run into each other and we got the opportunity to go out….in a non-platonic sense…” “Yes.” “I….don’t know.” “Wow, that’s it?” The corner of Taehyung’s mouth curls, but it’s a dangerous question. You’re uncertain of what he wants you to say, what you want to say. The possibility of such a circumstance makes your palms clammy. “Well, I wouldn’t know.” You shrug. “You kind of have to be in the moment to know.” “Hmmmm, I see.” The artist at work nods to himself. “Interesting.” As reckless as it is, you find yourself asking, “How about you?” “Me? Yeah, I’d date you. If you’d even let me.” Taehyung laughs and a smile appears on your face. He announces it like he’s so sure of himself, and it almost makes you...nervous. But you’re probably sweating from the heat of the room. “I don’t see why not.” “But why me?” you question. “Like you said, I’m emotionally stunted. And I wouldn’t be able to offer you anything.” It doesn’t make sense to you — you’re not exciting, adventurous, or fun. The type of person you imagine Taehyung to be with, you can’t find any shred of it in yourself. In fact, you feel more like a drag on people’s lives. The sidekick or background character that helps them accomplish one mission and hints them to the next. Never the hero. Most certainly never the love interest. Taehyung’s hand pauses. He glances at you with a frown, earnest in his words. “Don’t sell yourself short. Seriously.” The student continues his sketch. “You’re responsible and hard-working and smart and capable. Most people aren’t like that. They’re not like you. And you keep me grounded. Make sure I don’t make stupid fucking decisions and end up breaking my legs.” The corner of your mouth pulls again. “Okay, fine. That’s fair. But is it really enough to date me in this hypothetical world?” “In this hypothetical world,” he pauses to inhale, “Yes. But there’s so much more than that. I wish you knew. I’d be the lucky one here. Not the other way around.” Your face heats. He gives you more credit than you deserve, but you appreciate the wholehearted praise. For once, he’s not trying to butter you to succumb to whatever he wants, to get you to roll your eyes and banter with him. There’s nothing he can gain from it. It’s meaningful and you’re brought back to the time he told you no one could replace you... “This is going to sound so lame and I know for a fact it’s one sided,” Taehyung mumbles as his eraser scrapes along the drawing you can’t discern from this distance, “but you’re my best friend, Y/N.” Your chest is tight and you meet his eyes, staring at each other. His pencil continues to move on the paper, having sketched your curves, the dips of your waist, the slope of your nose, shape of your lips and strands of your hair. “It’s not one-sided.” Taehyung smiles. He looks down and the rest of the time is spent quietly as he tries to finish, focusing. The conversation sinks down onto your shoulders and unlike his promise, it lasts longer than an hour. But you don’t find it difficult to stay in place anymore under his gaze. Eventually, he finishes and sets his pencil down with a grin. “Good enough. You wanna see?” “Yes. In case you wasted an hour of my life….” You walk over, dragging your sleeping leg behind you to peer over his shoulder. At once, your expression wipes away. He looks up at you in worry. “What do you think?” “It’s….pretty decent,” you admit with an approving nod. “I look so….” Pretty. Happy. The sketch isn’t so rough as he said it would be. It’s a clear drawing of you, standing with arms behind your back, facial expression melted into a sheepish smile. It’s uncanny to how you remember your mother when you used to look at her, back before she became worn down, cynical, disappointed in how her own life turned out. You wonder if this is how Taehyung sees you. In a way that’s so lovely and carefree. “It better be decent. My hand hurts.” He shakes it and stretches his arms above his head with a groan. “I’m beat too.” “Can I get a copy of it? When you’re done….” Taehyung sets his notebook down on the table and spins around in pleasant shock. “You like it that much?” A stupidly wide grin begins to expand into his cheeks. You try to shrug casually. “It’s not bad.” He walks across the room, falling onto the worn sofa in the corner. “I’ll let you have the original when I get it back. Come here.” Taehyung pats a spot beside him, but you glance at the watch on your wrist. “Shouldn’t we go get dinner?” “Yeah, but I’m so tired. Let me rest for a second.” Once you give in, moving to sit down beside him, he scoots closer to you. Side-eyeing Taehyung only causes him to smile. “Thanks, dumbo, for letting me draw you.” “It’s fine. Better than your idea of going bungee jumping.” “I still wanna do that.” “Maybe when it’s not my shift.” “So you can actually join me?” “So I’m not responsible if something goes wrong.” He bursts out with a scoff and a laugh before settling down, tearing his eyes away from the profile of your face he had tried to recreate on paper and failed. He shifts to look straight ahead instead. Another thought bubbles to the surface of his consciousness. “In a hypothetical world where we never grew up together, where you weren’t my bodyguard, if I wasn’t the President’s son, and we met here...do you think you’d be my friend?” “What’s up with you and hypotheticals today?” “I just wish things were different.” “Different how?” “I don’t know,” he says, but you think he does know. You don’t push him to tell you if he doesn’t want to. It goes quiet. Every blink that is taken is heavy. The exhaustion of the day catches up to you, muscles sore, feet aching. But you’re suddenly broken out of your trance when there’s a newfound weight on your shoulder. You flinch from the affection, yet Taehyung stays, chest rising and falling. He’s leaning on your shoulder, fast asleep. Your eyes soften, staring at the icy blonde strands of his hair. Your breath steadies and you sigh gently, allowing him to stay. You don’t notice the way Taehyung’s mouth tugs upwards discreetly, how he sheepishly smiles, noticing the change. Just a month ago, he had tried the same thing and you shoved him off without waiting a single beat…. And just like that, he falls asleep on you, lulled by your scent and warmth. It’s now that you’re sitting right beside him, peace allowing you to think, that you can finally put your finger on the feeling that’s been brewing inside of you ever since he embraced your body in his bed, underneath his covers, and the pair of you fell asleep in each other’s arms. You know it now. And it brings a whole plethora of emotions washing down on you — confusion, worry, fear. You’re agitated, muddled, but also more than that. It’s different from annoyance, disenchantment, and the usual disenthrallment. It’s fluster. Kim Taehyung’s made you flustered.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fluff #taehyung #LOAD UP THE FLUFF

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gold-eyes-vengeful-heart · 5 years ago

Text

Recoup

((Sorin ( @aetherstitch ) and Runya go to visit a lake.

Contains 5.2 spoilers! Like every other fic in this series so far lol. Specifically features the Ruby Weapon questline.))

===

Runya leaned heavily on his Garuda-egi as he trudged on in Sorin’s wake.

At the very minimum, the little summons was useful for this; she hovered easily in mid-air without complaint, giving him something to keep his balance with as he walked (and did he need it...even if he didn’t want to admit to it). And at least she was less prone to setting things on fire than Ifrit was, and she didn’t give Sorin a twitch like Ifrit did, either...

But he suddenly looked around, as they crested the ridge near the lake, his ears swiveling. “We’re sure that Baelsar hasn’t been here?”

Sorin paused and looked back over his shoulder with a frown. “Do you...have reason to believe he’s here?”

“I don’t want that man anywhere near Blue, is all,” Runya retorted. “I’m still not particularly convinced he’s on anyone’s side but the Empire’s. No matter how much he insists on Ascian-hunting.”

Sorin waited for Runya to catch up, and then slowed his pace as they descended down the wide shallow crater towards the lake. “You think so?”

Interesting, that. Sorin didn’t immediately write it off as him just being paranoid. Maybe he was on to something more than even he thought?

“Oh, yes, I’m more than convinced,” Runya purred. “I’m amazed that any of you are falling for it, but especially you, Sorin. He was rather invested in what he was doing being correct, wasn’t he? Do any of you really think that he’s so willing to turn his back on all of that for little reason?”

Sorin’s brow furrowed. “...He didn’t...have much reaction to Cid being blunt about what happened to that pilot. It was strange.”

“Well, you did mention that they claimed to be his children, yes?” Runya snorted. “That’s gone rather poorly for everyone else he’s claimed to be daddy over. There was...what was her name? Livia? Then I believe he pitted your Cid friend and Scaeva against one another; even I managed to hear about that one. And even outside of that Werlyt pack that’s being such a nuisance now, he quite deliberately created the Crania Lupii. And how did that turn out?”

Sorin winced. “Yes, he did. There’s no denying what he’s done, and I would never minimize that.”

Runya hummed thoughtfully. “So why everyone is suddenly alright with him, believing that he’s on our side...or believing that such a cold-blooded schemer would ever suddenly grow a set of morals in general...Well, I’m afraid it’s all quite beyond me.”

“‘Cold-blooded schemer’, Runya?”

If Sorin had meant that as an actual insult, however, it went right over Runya’s head and he just smiled lazily over at the other Miqo’te. “Sorin, Sorin, Sorin. Don’t compare him to me. I have this little thing called standards. He doesn’t. I never made slave camps or stole children from their mothers to mold them in my own image like I wanted to pretend to be a deity. Except with more genocide.”

“Says the man who’s keen on killing every resident of the Garlean Empire?”

“Come now, I merely want to see them dead...and possibly torture the people most directly responsible for all of what I am,” he added as a calm afterthought. “But would you really say that death is the worst thing to happen to someone? Or having your entire identity wrenched from you and twisted into something useful for the people that tormented you, knowing full well that you’re just a thing now and not a person?”

...Yet. While he still believed it, certainly, this debate actually had him a little uneasy for once, saying it to him. (He was going to choose to chalk it up to how the last debate wound up in a magical brawl that he actually lost and that was against Sorin as a Scholar.)

“I object more to the notion of dead civilians, Runya. No matter who’s doing it. I’ll stop them regardless.”

The flat and almost dangerous tone of Sorin’s voice brooked no argument, and for once, Runya didn’t press it...though that was mostly because he thought he saw a ripple at the center of the lake, as something floating up from underneath. “You and your pesky morality, Sorin.” And yet Sorin was still dragging him kicking and screaming into believing at least a little of it anyway, wasn’t he? Even if just out of dislike of the thought of fighting him again and most likely losing terribly once more. Frustrating man. Frustrating, frustrating man.

{Hmph. You’re mean.}

...Right, he was close enough that Blue could eavesdrop without much trouble.

{Only fight to keep them away. Not to destroy them all.}

“Don’t tell me that Sorin’s managed to weasel his morals into your head?”

Sorin was smiling out of the corner of his eye, the infuriating--

{He freed us.} Blue actually sounded a tiny bit defensive. {I listen to him, yes.}

Sorin had heard, judging by how he jumped into the conversation. “I’m glad someone’s deliberately listening to me, anyway. It’s a nice change.”

“Ah, hey--”

{Runya cares.}

But Runya huffed, leaning more heavily on the Garuda-egi. “I care about not getting my shite kicked in again, yes.”

{Hmmmm.}

“...Please cease airing your doubts about me in front of Sorin, dear. One might think you didn’t like me, even after I was instrumental in helping you defeat that other Weapon.”

But now there was a large ripple approaching the shore, and it slowly burst the surface to reveal the long lance-like spikes on Blue’s back, water dripping in rivulets off of the array of bristling scales along his neck and tail. Some of which were rather burned and dented, he noted with a wince, but he sent Sorin a look as his friend raised a brow at him. “Yes, Sorin?”

“You actually care about something that’s not yourself. Don’t you?”

“You make it sound as if it’s a rarity.”

“Because it is.”

Blue reared out of the shallows and thudded towards them, though he at least had the sense to keep a few fulms of distance so he wasn’t dripping all over the two Miqo’te. His head swung slowly as he regarded Sorin, then Runya, and he stared a bit oddly at the latter for wandering over to get a good look at his side.

{It doesn’t hurt.}

“What is that crystal, anyway?” Runya’s keen eyes roved over the light blue substance in question. “I do hope that isn’t permanent. You’ll look like one giant crystal otherwise.”

Blue snorted, and it actually did dampen his hair, making him peevishly reach up to fluff it out once more. {Damage needs fixing. This is how to fix it.} He said it as if he was explaining to a child, and though Runya bristled at the tone, he did settle back down quickly enough. No amount of throwing tantrums at a multi-yalm tall humongous machina-creature was going to change its mind, after all...

“I gathered that, dear.”

Blue cocked his head to one side. {Then it’s not a problem.}

“I was hoping to learn more about it than that.”

{...It’s all we need to know?}

“There is...one thing, Blue, that we want to know.” Sorin interrupted and sidled between Runya and the Weapon. “Though we are both glad that you’re alright.”

Runya could swear that Blue was smiling, despite how his metallic face was more or less locked into its current expression. The feeling bounced around in his head like raindrops, regardless.

“You were very upset, when your opponent reenacted the Calamity.”

That feeling deflated into wariness in an instant, with all the subtlety of a sudden pressure drop ahead of a storm.

“So are you sure you’re alright?” Sorin continued, craning his neck up to look at the Weapon. “None of us would be, in your skin. And if you want to talk...” He let the sentence trail off, but the offer remained.

And much to Runya’s surprise, Blue just crouched, and then flopped, rolling and twisting so his rear legs were splayed out behind him and his forelegs were tucked back against his sides. His wings fluttered uneasily and he even half-buried his snout in the damp earth of the lake bank, his nervousness ticking tersely off of Runya’s own nerves.

{...Remembered something. But didn’t.}

Sorin glanced over at Runya, but Runya was completely lost about the whole thing and just quirked an eyebrow. “I’m afraid I don’t know what it was, either. Some blurry memory of a burning city was all I saw, before he unceremoniously got me locked out of my own body.”

But at that, Sorin went a rather strange color. And Runya frowned.

“...Sorin? Don’t tell me that you’re about to run wild.”

Sorin shook his head rapidly as if clearing it. “No, no, it’s fine. But...that doesn’t sound familiar to you?”

Well, now he had definitive proof that he was still catching up, mentally, after getting his mind nearly smashed in; he really should have recognized that single image given that he had been running about in a recreation of it just moons ago.

“It does sound familiar, doesn’t it?” He said it but softly, however, looking at Blue with renewed interest, even if Blue didn’t return the favor. “Our friend here is a very interesting friend, indeed.”

Blue just craned his head to one side a little to regard him with a pair of his four red eyes, silent.

“I’m unsure if a Weapon is within your realm of expertise, Sorin,” Runya continued, though distantly as his mind was already whirling with possibilities and plans and things he needed to research. Not that he had wanted to immediately take off again, and leave Sorin out in the open like this when they certainly had Imperials around that he didn’t trust, but...

{He did beat you, you said.}

“Excuse you, I wasn’t asking your input. But Sorin, if you could take a look at him, it would be greatly appreciated.”

“You’re going somewhere?” Sorin’s stare warily locked onto his, but Runya just smiled.

“I’m not going to do something naughty, don’t worry. I’m just going to look at the records again. I get the feeling I may have missed something, failed to make some connection...” He loosely waved a hand. “I’d love to know what Blue really is, and I’m sure Blue would like that, too. Wouldn’t you?”

{...Yes.}

“Well,” Sorin admitted with some reluctance, “if he’s sure he wants to know, then.”

...Ah, yes, there was that. Sorin never had been comfortable with anything remotely involving Amaurot and the Ancients’ world, had he? Not that Sorin had done more than hint at it so far, but apparently the notion of being a split-up soul bothered him somehow. Made him doubt who or what he was, somehow. And he cleared the distance between them, and lightly prodded Sorin in the forehead with a smug grin.

“But he’ll still always be Blue to us, won’t he? No matter what the answer. I will always be Runya; it’s far too late for me to be anything else. And you will always be dear Sorin, no matter what.”

But he didn’t give Sorin a chance to answer, or argue the point for right now. (That could come later, when he wasn’t all aflutter with the eagerness to research.) Instead, teleportation magic flared around him, and he quickly disappeared back to where they stored the old Allagan records about their big Weapon friend.

He had some searching to do.

#; writing #5.2 spoilers #spoilers #good grief this one went all over the place ;;#BUT #if i sit here and stare at it any longer i'm gonna drive myself bonkers #so here have the endcap of this little fic series thing for right now

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thedepthsremember · 6 years ago

Text

Maxwell x MC (Riley) [ao3]

Tag list: @imissmaxwell @fullbeaumonty @breaumonts @littlecrookedheart

Rating: Things get mildly over PG-13. Scandal!

----

The morning after the costume ball, Riley woke up from an entertaining dream involving Maxwell as a sort of … squid merman, involving a rather imaginative use of his tentacles. It was more funny than anything, but it does remind her of what’s important: Yesterday, she and Maxwell had finally had sex.

----

“I'm done overthinking it. I want you, Riley.”

Riley's heart was beating in her ears. It took all her effort to not jump off the bench and scream YES, YES, LET’S DO THIS. She took a deep breath. “Maxwell, if we're going to do this, then…I need you to ask me.” She peered up at him through her eyelashes. “Because if you're saying what I'm pretty sure you're saying, then…” She nodded firmly, smiling. “But… I need you to say it. So there's no ambiguity.”

He nodded slowly, starting to understand. “Riley,” his voice was low and soft. “I'm done waiting. I… I want us to have sex.”

Hearing the words in his voice did something to her. Her lips parting with want, she grabbed him by the squid tie and yanked him down to her. It was messy, and she tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth as she released him. “Hell yes,” she breathed, and he laughed. “Where do you want to do this, my room, your room…? Wait, don't you share with Bertrand--?”

He stood, pulling her to her feet with a grin. “I know just the place.”

She had just enough time to be intrigued -- before he suddenly turned and dashed away, yelling with excitement.

“H-hey!” she called, laughing with shock. “You're forgetting something important!”

Slipping off her heels, she sprinted after him, laughing the whole way. She loves this man, so much.

----

Memories tumbling through her brain, Riley kicks her legs against the sheets, giggling and rolling around excitedly. God, she forgot what it was like to have a sex life. She squishes her thighs together. How does anyone get anything else done? There are things she should probably get up for, but images of them together have filled her brain, leaving no room for anything else. As many nights (and car rides, and boring meetings) as she’d spent imagining how his dance moves might translate over to what he could do with his hips, the real thing was on a completely different level. And how sweet was it that he tested every available bed in the palace to make things perfect for them? She can’t get over it. She squeezes a pillow to her face, smothering her giggles. She’s the luckiest lady in Cordonia. Probably even the world.

There aren’t any events today, so no real reason for Maxwell to come wake her up, but she can’t help but hope he does anyway. Then she remembers that she is well within her rights to do something about that. The idea is still strangely, thrillingly new. She pulls out her phone, then pauses on what to say. “I can’t stop thinking about yesterday” is true, but then again, a lot happened yesterday, and there are parts she’d rather not think about right now. She casts around for something better, and eventually settles on a classic.

“I miss you ♥”

As soon as she hits send, she tosses her phone back on the nightstand and tumbles out of bed in one ungraceful movement. Ugh, headrush. Stumbling to the door, she unlocks it before diving back into the warmth of the covers.

Not thirty seconds later, there is a familiar knock.

“Goooood morning! It’s me! …Maxwell!”

She shakes her head, smiling. As if she couldn’t recognize him by now from his voice, his knocks, his excited footsteps. “Come in!”

There's a pause. She wonders if he’s still remembering the time at the beginning of the social season when he came in to wake her up, and walked in on her changing instead. She had very calmly pulled on her dress, and then explained to him while smoothing the creases out that if he ever came in without knocking again, she would put him through the window. He had clearly taken this to heart, as since that time he almost never opened her door first, instead waiting for her to do it.

Slowly, the door opens.

A smile spreads across her face at the sight of him, bright eyed and smiling back at her. He steps in and closes the door behind him, taking in the scene with hands in pockets. “Well, don’t you look cosy.”

She stretches. “I’ve decided never to leave this bed again, and it would be nice to have a buddy.”

He pops up on his toes, raising a hand. “I volunteer!”

She laughs. “I was hoping you would. Lock the door?”

Automatically he turns to comply, then pauses and looks confused. “Wait.” He clicks the lock into place. “You sleep with your door unlocked?”

Busted. Of course she hasn't made that mistake since Applewood. Stupidly, she feels her cheeks heat as she’s forced to admit this isn’t a completely casual, unplanned seduction. Of her own fiancé. “I may have… unlocked it for you.”

His grin reappears and he starts towards the bed, but before he can climb in she says, “Take off your pants.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Bossy today.” But he’s biting his lip as he unbuttons his jeans.

She smiles sweetly. “I just thought you might be more comfortable.”

“For the record, I was not complaining.” He lets his pants fall to the floor, then spreads his arms wide with a flourish. “Anything else?

Well. She leans forward, watching intently. “Lose the shirt.”

“Yes ma’am.” Never taking his eyes off hers, he begins unbuttoning his shirt, one slow button at a time. Right as he unfastens the final one, he spins around. With his back turned, he peers over his shoulder, throws her a wink -- and begins shimmying the shirt off his shoulders.

She bursts into giggles, clapping with delight. It is topped only by the one he gave yesterday as the best and funniest striptease she has ever been privileged to receive. She sees him turn back to face her just before her world is enveloped in black fabric.

She's laughing too hard to get his shirt off her head, but feels the bed dip as he climbs in next to her. “Good morning,” he says right up against her lips, and she can feel him smiling.

“Well good morning to you, sir,” she says, giddy from finally touching him. She’s kissing him in little sips before pulling back. “But be careful! My fiancé was just here.”

He pulls the shirt free, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he cocks his head. “Should I be concerned that my fiancé lacks object permanence?”

“Oh! Maxwell!” She's laughing too hard at her own dumb joke. “There you are!”

Snickering, he collapses onto her, and they lie there for a bit while their giggles subside. She runs her fingers through his hair and he burrows into her with a contented sigh.

“Hey,” she says eventually.

“Mmm?”

“I’m really happy.”

He sits up halfway to look at her. “Yeah?”

She touches his face. “Very much.”

His smile grows beneath her fingers. “Me too.”

She lifts her head and he meets her halfway. It starts soft and slow, until Maxwell makes a little hum against her lips, and Riley presses more firmly into him, deepening the kiss. She tugs on his hair gently and he lets out a moan that stirs the fire in her belly. She’s learned it doesn’t take a lot before he starts getting vocal, but encouraging that has become her new favorite game.

Though right now he seems to be winning, as he’s made his way to her neck, sucking gently until he gets some noise out of her. Leaving more kisses as he goes, he trails down further until he reaches her tank top. He tugs at it. “You've got me at a disadvantage, here.”

“Have I?” she asks, too innocently. When he looks up at her, she flicks her eyes down then back to his, and he quirks an eyebrow, curious. His hands run along her sides, down and down until… “Oh.”

As it turns out, they’re both wearing exactly one piece of clothing. “Yep,” she smiles.

He climbs over her, holding himself in a plank with arms on both sides of her head. His eyes twinkle down at her as his eyes rove down her body. “God, Riley…”

“Maxwell…” She returns, wrapping her arms around him and trying to tug him down, but he refuses to budge. “Hey. Get down here!”

“Your wish is my command.” He lowers his lips to hers--only his lips. She can feel him smiling, the punk.

Well, that just won’t do. She tightens her arms around his back and and wraps her legs around his hips until she’s hanging from him like a koala. He snickers, planting kisses all over her face. “I wonder if we--can walk--around like this. Start a new trend?”

“How are you with piggyback rides?” She nibbles on his ear. “Maybe that would be a little more…” she grinds up against him for emphasis. “...subtle.”

He groans, dropping down onto her. “Oof!”

“Sorry!”

She laughs. “Don’t apologize, you’re right where I want you.” She runs her hands across his back, feeling the muscles there. “God, I love touching you.”

He sucks in a breath, and she can tell he’s pleased. “If it feels nearly as amazing as touching you…” he trails a hand down, and she gasps. “Wow,” he blinks at her. “You’re soaked already. I can feel it through my boxers.”

She blushes. It’s a stupid thing to feel self-conscious about, but it’s never taken much to get her going. She finds herself deflecting. “They make a terrible condom,” she replies brashly.

He laughs. “I can do something about that.”

#maxwell beaumont #trr #the royal romance #v writes things #I am trying to get closer to smut but it is a Process :|#posts this before I overthink it anymore #I have somehow written 10 chapters of this! wowzers #brief tentacle mention and then I promise it’s gone. for better or worse

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gwyvian · 7 years ago

Text

Heart of the Forge

Chapter 8: The Open Box

Ryder sweated. But then, being stared at by Moshae Sjefa would make anyone feel uncomfortable, especially seeing as the angaran scientist had pressed her and Akksul for every detail they could dredge up about the Remnant structure that had been their prison, along with their experiences within, not a half hour ago. They had told the beginning of the story eagerly, hoping to impress how dangerous the Roekaar threat was and thereby convince the older woman that staying within the walls of Daar Toshaar was the best choice, but once the inside stories began coming out the two of them had tripped over their tongues a little too much, cutting into each other’s words and panicking a little whenever they realized they had looked at one another meaningfully. Ryder wasn’t sure that the Moshae registered what was left unsaid, but then, she wasn’t sure she didn’t. The woman was hard to read.

“I am beginning to like this drink you call green tea,” the Moshae said, taking another experimental sip from the canister Ryder had offered to share earlier.

“Many don’t like it,” Ryder replied immediately, as if by rote.

“Where did you acquire it on Havarl?” she asked.

“I traded it,” Ryder answered a little wearily, reaching up across her chest to massage one of her shoulders. “When you said you wanted to talk I thought I might need to stay awake, so I asked around among the people the Nexus sent.” She could practically feel the dark circles growing under her eyes.

“It has an interesting composition of flavors,” the Moshae remarked, peering into the canister to study the liquid.

“What does it taste like to an angaran?” Ryder asked curiously.

“A little like mold… and flowers.”

“Oh,” Ryder said, not sure what to say to that. “Is that… pleasant?” she asked uncertainly.

The Moshae considered. “We do not usually eat either one of those things.”

“I… rather like green tea,” Ryder replied. Great, we’ve reached the small talk point of the conversation.

Ryder took a deep breath, wrangling with the dilemma that plagued her ever since the Moshae had requested the Pathfinder’s cooperation with her plans: to go back out into the jungle and continue her work excavating the Remnant site she had come to Havarl to see. Eyes sliding from the Moshae to Akksul sitting to her right, Ryder felt her brain actually ache harder as she considered whose side to take; the contest was between a man she had a very complicated relationship with and a woman who, she suspected, always got her way. She took the next swig from the canister, taking comfort in the spreading warmth of the slightly bitter drink, all the while ignoring Akksul’s grimaces of impatience to finally make up her mind.

Grimly Ryder pondered the question, letting her eyes travel across the angaran equivalent of a library as she did. It was housed in one of the largest angaran buildings Ryder had yet seen, but it wouldn’t have been out of place going by Nexus standards. Dozens of enormous holographic data streams lit up the whole room like a glowing forest, spiraling outward from a giant planetary hologram in the center of the room. Monitors of all shapes and sizes lined the walls almost to the ceiling, recording history in the making according to the Moshae. They were seated in front of a door that lead off to one of the library’s back rooms, the one the Moshae was currently using as her quarters, and apart from a few crates blocking out the periphery, she had a clear enough view of this reservoir of angaran knowledge. As with many angaran designs she had seen so far, there was something utilitarian about the place, yet it had an unintentional ephemeral beauty about it that fascinated her.

At the moment though, Ryder found she was having trouble appreciating the view; she was far too busy wondering when this whole situation had gotten so horribly out of control. All of this never would have happened if she hadn’t swooned a little not long after arriving, exhausted from the way she had been pushing herself while her body was still taxed from her time cut off from SAM. In that state Ryder had felt much too pliable to refuse the Moshae anything, and information had been what the older woman had been after. Apparently she had been perfectly content to study whatever it was she was working on here; until, that was, the two of them arrived and said something that sparked the angaran scientist’s interest.

Ryder didn’t really mind passing on all that the information, it was surprisingly easy to talk to her, and none of what she could say would endanger the Initiative in any way, but she thought she couldn’t quite look at the older woman in the same way again after being flattened and squeezed by her like a sponge leaking information. At least, that’s what she felt like: an aching, bruised and itchy sponge that didn’t know how to disappoint Akksul without forfeiting ever finding out if there really was something between them.

Ryder swallowed another mouthful of tea as if to wash away her thoughts. “It could use some honey,” she muttered. Inwardly she cringed; as far as stalling tactics went, that had been a pathetic excuse. She took another, more careful, sip to cover the moment.

“We may have something similar to it. I could acquire some,” Akksul said and Ryder did choke this time, staring at him.

“In… town? I mean – in the daar?” Ryder asked, coughing and handing the canister back to the Moshae.

Akksul nodded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You and I could see what the market has to offer,” he suggested, the corner of his mouth curling a little in smile or sneer, she couldn’t tell.

Go to the market together? Ryder thought. That couldn’t possibly work as a stall for time, not pitted against a forceful personality like Moshae Sjefa’s; it was as transparent as mentioning wanting honey in her tea in the first place, she thought ruefully. Something must have changed in her expression because Akksul looked vaguely satisfied that she had clearly caught on, though apparently he failed to correctly interpret her wilted enthusiasm.

“Yes, that sounds uh, good,” she said hastily, suddenly realizing that she got so wrapped up in their conspiratorial exchange with Akksul that she had almost forgotten that the point was to escape the Moshae to talk away from her penetrating eyes. It might work.

“Pathfinder,” Moshae Sjefa said calmly, putting the canister down, “if I ask the Resistance to accompany me to the site, they will come, with or without your consent. Or yours, Akksul,” she shut the man down before he finished opening his mouth. “I am still asking because I am not important enough to break an alliance between our peoples, but make no mistake: I must continue this work.” She took another swallow of tea, but her eyes never left Ryder’s. “I am not your prisoner, am I?”

“Of course not!” Ryder exclaimed, taken aback.

“Then give me my escort and let me go. I would like to leave within an hour if possible,” she said firmly.

“Shovaan,” Akksul pleaded. “You must remain safe. At least let me send scouts ahead to make sure there are no dangers lurking there!”

“There is no time, Akksul,” the Moshae replied, but she only flicked her eyes to him for a second; Ryder was her real objective. “What happened might change again at any moment without warning.”

Ryder wet her lips. “With all due respect Moshae, the Roekaar want to kill you, not just kidnap you. Maybe you didn’t know that the kett wanted you alive at the time, but I’m sure that whatever the Roekaar will send after you will be far more dangerous than anything you’ve been threatened by before.”

The Moshae waved a dismissive hand. “We learned from that experience, but I will not be hobbled by fear, especially not coming from a Roekaar,” she scoffed. She didn’t look at Akksul as she said that, but Ryder saw him tense, as if he was waiting for the Moshae to blame her predicament on him at any moment.

“Moshae, no,” Akksul leaned forward, trying to persuade her one last time to abandon the plan and let someone else go in her place.

As he spoke, Ryder took the opportunity to study him, now that there was no danger of their eyes meeting accidentally. The light from the data streams danced across Akksul’s face playfully, softening some of the contours while secretively revealing others. His eyes looked like a dirty blue sea of stars now more than ever in that light, but moments after she allowed herself to linger there she felt suddenly inspired by Akksul’s words, though she had only been listening with half an ear. She was a scientist and she had SAM; if the Moshae shared the objective, maybe she could persuade the woman to stay behind like Akksul wanted and let Ryder go in her stead.

“Why exactly is it so urgent that you get there now?” Ryder asked, unintentionally interrupting Akksul as she abruptly returned to the conversation. She gave him an apologetic look, but he refused to look at her to see it, clearly offended that she cut him off.

“This site is one of several that my students and I have been studying over the years. We call them dead sites because they appear to have been deliberately shut down and in some cases taken out of commission permanently.”

“By the Jardaan you mean?” Ryder frowned.

“Yes,” the Moshae nodded. “This is the first time in all the years I have been studying these sites that one of them has come back to life… not counting your adventure,” she gave Ryder and Akksul each a significant look.

The pair of them exchanged a look of their own, this time one of concern.

Akksul was the first to break eye contact. “But we did that, we activated it,” he said.

“I suspect now that you activated more than just that one site. By itself what happened here would have been interesting, but learning that you had just recently stumbled on another and got it working, that suggests a networking that we have only seen in the monoliths before now. That also suggests something powerful is happening, on the level of activating the vaults.”

“Wait,” Ryder said. “Almost right after we triggered the activation the whole place shut down again completely, it was even deliberately flooded. That means it’s not networked any longer like the monoliths are; it’s just a signal being passed on.”

“So you said,” the Moshae agreed. “But that doesn’t mean that nothing significant happened. It could have catastrophic consequences to allow this to continue, but even were it utterly benign we need to be able to disable it if necessary, just in case, and for that we need to understand it and learn how to manipulate it. Now do you see the urgency?”

Ryder did. “You mean we might have… unleashed something and it could get a whole lot worse. But if that is so, it’s our responsibility to fix it.”

“Neither of you have studied these sites nearly long enough,” the Moshae pointed out, recognizing what Ryder had been getting at. “If the situation is indeed that serious, you will need every advantage you can get, my experience included.”

Ryder, unfortunately, agreed with her as before; but she still hesitated.

“That doesn’t make the threat on your life any less important, shovaan,” Akksul insisted.

“I said I will take an escort,” the Moshae said in a no-nonsense tone. “I will have someone give regular reports on my safety if I must. I can be careful. Besides, if I’m always in one place, sooner or later they will find me; so many Resistance members and Initiative soldiers is hard to miss, even for a Roekaar.”

You’re preaching to the choir, Ryder thought wryly. Her own instincts told her moving around would make it harder to become a target; though, she was woman enough to admit that her position was influenced somewhat by the dread she felt at being caught off guard by Zivrel and being cut off from SAM again. Frankly, Akksul was being overprotective, but she didn’t really want to find out if he could go back to loathing her over this because she disagreed with him. That was the true heart of her dilemma, embarrassing as it was. Now that she finally thought about it those terms however, she couldn’t really justify stalling any longer.

“Ryder, please see sense,” Moshae Sjefa said, and Ryder’s attention refocused. The woman’s tone wasn’t at all pleading, but it did express the angaran’s exasperation with the human Pathfinder very aptly. The next time she asked it would be a threat, Ryder knew, and that would have consequences; she was out of time.

Shooting a guilty look at Akksul, Ryder compressed her lips and at long last gave the Moshae a nod of assent. “I have one condition, though: Akksul and I will come with you.”

“I hardly think that is necessary,” the Moshae said calmly.

“Necessary or not, that’s the only way I’m going to agree to this,” Ryder said emphatically. She was careful not to glance at Akksul and gave the outward appearance that the man’s reaction didn’t faze her in the slightest, but she could feel frustration rolling off him in waves.

“And if I am in danger in the future are you going to drop everything to come to my defense?” the older woman asked pointedly. “Or is it that you don’t trust your people to protect me adequately?”

“Well, no,” Ryder replied uncertainly but instantly regretted it. “I mean yes, if you need it I will always come, but I didn’t mean to imply…” she trailed off, breathing a little hard. “No, my people know what they are doing. But like you said, Akksul and I have experience with this; I think you need us, not to mention SAM.”

It could provide valuable information to compare observations, SAM intoned.

Akksul gave a snort of derision at mention of SAM.

“Mhmm,” Ryder mumbled under her breath, reluctantly acknowledging SAM’s input.

“The escort, they should all be angaran,” Akksul said after a moment. From the look that accompanied his statement he would see this through, for the Moshae’s sake, but he clearly blamed Ryder for caving in, just as she had feared he would. “If it is that important, we cannot trust outsiders with this. It could threaten all angara on every world and for all we know the Milky Way aliens could use this against us one day – they cannot be trusted.”

Ryder really wished he hadn’t made that argument. She would have to set herself against him, again, and she was fairly certain that their sapling bond would not survive it, if their existing disagreement hadn’t killed it already. Well, it had been a crazy idea to begin with, something between her and him; she just wished thinking that didn’t amplify her loneliness. It wasn’t as if the man promised her anything, technically he was still her enemy; perhaps she had been crazy to give in to that insane urge to be with him to begin with. It was time to face reality and accept it.

“No,” Ryder said firmly, shaking her head to punctuate the word. “Out of the question. No offense Akksul, but if anyone can be bought by the Roekaar, it’s going to be angarans. Like it or not, the Initiative is your only option who you can trust is not corruptible by a group of xenophobic angaran extremists.” She wasn’t sure if her words affected him or not, so Ryder just continued to look into his starry eyes steadily, silently imploring him to understand. Couldn’t he at least see that she had the Moshae’s best interests at heart? That had to mean something to him…

Akksul’s mouth was a grim slash and he stared at her angrily like that for what seemed like an eternity, expression shifting almost as though he was reconciling himself to something; after a while he just seemed lost to her, searching her eyes in turn for answers. In the end, he gave a bare nod before standing and stalking away to the other side of the room without another word. Ryder let out a slow sigh of relief, but the worry in the pit of her stomach remained.

“Excellent,” the Moshae said. “It is settled then. Gather up your things, children – bring your guns.” She stood and withdrew to prepare.

Ryder stood and took a moment to compose herself before joining Akksul beside the stack of crates they had unloaded their gear onto. She reckoned that her priorities had been justified: first and foremost she had to make sure that the Moshae was protected and that through her the Initiative was seen standing with its ally in her time of need. Akksul’s feelings had to take second place to that, no matter how much the thought anguished her; the both of them were just going to have to accept that. Grimacing and walking over she mused that she probably also had to accept that even if whatever it was they had been between them was doomed, for better or worse she did care about his feelings now; she just hoped he wouldn’t use that against her one day. Despite feeling a fool for it, that very fact motivated her now to try and mend things between them as she reached his side.

“Akksul,” she said, softly enough that she was sure the Moshae wouldn’t overhear, “I wasn’t trying to go against you, you know.”

Akksul turned his head to look at her expressionlessly as he strapped his harness on. “I know,” he said simply.

“So… you’re not angry?” Ryder asked, a little perplexed, but suddenly hopeful.

“I disagree with your judgement,” he replied tightly, “but I will not let her study this thing alone.”

“That’s why I insisted that you and I go along,” Ryder nodded in agreement.

“Do you think I would have been left behind otherwise?” he said contemptuously. “I may be willing to follow the Moshae through fire, but I will never let anyone or anything stop me from protecting her.”

“I know that,” Ryder replied defensively.

“I don’t need you or your favors to do that, so next time you decide to put the Moshae in more danger than she’s already in, leave me out of it. I will do what must be done.”

“I know that, too,” she said stiffly. Anger built inside her but she ruthlessly suppressed it, along with the hurt and humiliation that his words caused. “I stand behind my decisions regardless of your feelings about it, Akksul,” she continued coolly, “I’m not willing to compromise the Moshae’s life or the good relations between our people for the sake of your pride or your mistrust. Even if you feel I have somehow wronged you by not agreeing with your version of protecting her, I’m pretty damn sure she’s going to do whatever the hell she wants with or without you, so I’d rather cooperate and keep her safe than alienate us from her completely.”

“I am not—” Akksul began, but Ryder shushed him by pressing her fingertips to his lips.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said, letting a little heat seep into her voice. “The decision has been made, we need to focus on the mission by making sure that it goes as smoothly as humanly possible. And as angaranly possible.” She cleared her throat.

Akksul brushed her hand aside. “I don’t take orders from you,” he glared.

“And yet you are going to go along with my suggestions anyway,” Ryder said emphatically, “because for success we need to have one person calling the shots. If you think my men will listen to a Roekaar, especially you of all of them, then by all means, you tell me what to do.”

“So I’m one of them again, am I?” he demanded.

“You tell me,” Ryder shot back.

She could hear him grinding his teeth as he considered. It dawned on Ryder that this was the first time they had simply just stood this close to each other since they had escaped the Remnant building. He seemed to realize it after a moment, too, judging by the uncertainty that ghosted across his face. Abruptly he kissed her lightly on the lips before pulling away, clearly seeking to put distance between them. Ryder just stood there, stunned, stomach roiling with butterflies.

“For wanting to protect the Moshae,” Akksul explained. “However misguided your idea of protection is, I believe your intentions,” he added, then picked up his last weapon and holstered it before walking away to wait by the door.

Ryder touched fingertips to her lips before she could stop herself, then suddenly coming to her senses she hastily reached for a piece of her outer armor and began dressing. She kept her back to the door, not wanting to meet the man’s eyes and betray how thoroughly affected she felt, but she didn’t have long to sort herself out. In much too short a time she was strapping the last piece in place and after she fully armed herself, trying to take her time about it, she finally turned around to join Akksul at the door – only to find that he had gone outside already, doubtless to wait in one of the shuttles. She heaved a sigh of relief, but she couldn’t help but feel disappointed, too. Maybe the sensation of sparks between them hadn’t been mutual.

“Ready?” the Moshae’s voice made Ryder turn.

“Yes,” she replied. The pair of them left the building together. Outside the Moshae went ahead to the shuttles while Ryder approached one of the guards near the library’s exit wearing the Andromeda Initiative insignia. “Who leads your group?” she asked.

“That would be Lieutenant Sajax,” the man nodded towards a turian woman standing not far away with a larger group of Initiative people standing close to a shuttle landing pad.

“Thanks,” Ryder said and walked towards the group. That must have been the team that she had ordered assembled not long after they arrived at the library. She thought she recognized the turian from the militia headquarters. “Lieutenant,” she called out as she approached.

“Hey Ryder,” Sajax said, “I’ve assigned some of my second team to keep an eye on things here, but I’ve got all the best shots with me. We’re ready to go whenever you are.”

“Good thinking,” Ryder nodded in acknowledgement and the turian returned the gesture in thanks. “Let’s move out.”

Leaving the lieutenant to organize their people, Ryder climbed onto the first shuttle and found the Moshae already comfortably seated, along with the pilot; Akksul was nowhere in sight. She sat down slowly beside the angaran, hesitating and wondering if she should go find him, but she realized that when all was said and done any obligation between her and the former Roekaar leader had dissolved as soon as they had helped each other escape – as had their truce. If he decided to go his own way, well… she got her way regarding the Moshae, there was that.

No one else boarded their shuttle, though there was room for at least one more; she suspected that had been Akksul’s assigned seat, though she had no doubts that he was on one of the other shuttles. It only took a few more minutes for the shuttles to begin taking off one by one; for safety the Moshae’s shuttle only joined the group after two others were already in the air as an advanced guard, gliding through a low-hanging rain cloud to follow them that left beads of water streaking on the glass. Ryder watched the jungle’s hills and valleys undulate beneath them, entranced by the vibrant blues and greens bathed in the purplish-golden glow of the afternoon sunlight; after a time the Moshae finally broke the silence.

“I am surprised to see that something seems to have passed between you two,” she said simply.

“What do you mean?” Ryder asked in alarm, view forgotten.

“The last time the three of us met, all Akksul had for you were taunts… and you seem like you are struggling with him somehow, that is also new.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Ryder insisted, forcing a laugh.

“I didn’t think that anyone could get through to him after he left,” the Moshae mused. Despite herself, Ryder leaned closer curiously, waiting for the woman to continue. “I had hoped for his sake that he would seek out something or someone to heal him… I was not expecting you.”

“Believe me, we were forced together,” Ryder winced. “We had to cooperate or we would have died down there. I wouldn’t really call that a healing experience.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Moshae Sjefa said in surprise. “I meant that there is an emotional bond between you now.”

“Not really,” Ryder said faintly. This conversation was shaping up to be so much worse than the interrogation, she decided. Things between her and Akksul were complicated enough without someone else’s opinions added to the mix. “We just… helped each other, I guess we became comrades after saving each other a few times.” Apparently it means nothing to him, though, she thought dejectedly. She wasn’t fooling herself into thinking that kiss meant anything more than what he said it was; the angara were much freer with their emotions that way and they had, after all, gotten close.

The Moshae gave her a look that made Ryder avert her eyes, blushing. “It may be painful, but if you can save him… I hope you will take the chance.”

Ryder cleared her throat. “Where um… where are we going exactly?” she shifted about in her seat uncomfortably.

“The silos, we call them,” the Moshae replied smoothly. “Most of it is buried by the jungle, but sections of its infrastructure are accessible with only a little digging, just recently we exposed one of them completely to study it. When we finally glimpsed what was inside we found another dead site – similar to your description, actually, very different from typical Remnant structures in some ways. This place is much closer to the surface than any other site, however.”

“Why do you call them silos?” Ryder asked warily.

“Because put together it looks like a planetary defense system network.”

“You’re not sure, though?”

“It is unlike any angaran defense system in all the important ways, but that is the most logical hypothesis I have to offer based on my observations.”

Ryder nodded. “If anyone can fix this, it’s SA—”

Something slapped against their shuttle, sending them spinning wildly through the air. After an agonizingly long and silent eternity of being unable to move from the G’s sucking her to her seat, the shuttle mercifully stabilized as the automated attitude controls kicked in just before Ryder’s vision graying out completely. She shook her head to clear the fog, but she realized that part of her disorientation was caused by the fact that her hearing was gone. She hadn’t really registered the roaring sound before her senses overloaded, but then, a lot of blood had been leaving her head for her feet at the time, that would have confused anyone.

“SAM,” she gasped, struggling to breathe normally. It was still difficult to move, they were still accelerating.

I have managed to counteract a potential G-LOC, but I am afraid that Moshae Sjefa had no such protection, SAM said. She is unconscious.

Ryder shakily turned her head to look at the Moshae; she seemed to be breathing, but she was definitely passed out. Struggling to regain motor control Ryder managed to get her hands to her seatbelt and she fumbled at the clasp to free herself. It kept slipping through her fingers but she kept trying anyway; she had to check on the Moshae, but more importantly, the shuttle was still out of control, even if the spinning had stopped.

Repairing damage now, SAM intoned.

She sucked in a breath as something needled through her body, but a split second later she was blinking and her limbs were moving with a wonderful fluidity once more. Not wasting any time, she made sure the Moshae wasn’t bleeding and that nothing was seriously broken before she pulled herself towards the pilot’s seat. The shuttle was gaining altitude fast and the engines were starting to keen from the struggle against the planet’s gravity; one look was all it took to ascertain that the pilot was dead, hand still clutched on the controls.

“Please tell me you’re not going away this time, SAM,” Ryder muttered, removing the pilot’s hand to stop their ascent before taking the copilot’s seat to take control.

I am here, Pathfinder, SAM replied and she felt her mind sharpen, her senses elongate and her body tense pleasantly with renewed vigor.

“How close are we to the silos?” she asked.

We will reach the site momentarily. However, the explosion that was the source of the shockwave seems to have originated from the same location, I recommend caution.

“Oh, this is bad,” Ryder breathed, feeling very weary all of a sudden, SAM’s augmentations or no. At that moment she would have happily gone back to be trapped in the Remnant building again, with not a single worry about the future – mostly because there had been no future down there. But I do have a future to fight for now, she thought, and after a moment she pulled herself together with renewed determination. “SAM, take us down, but put us down a short walk away, just in case.”

Beginning descent now.

The shuttle began to drop and Ryder felt her stomach flip, hands steady on the controls as she followed SAM’s guidance precisely. She rode a few clouds that buffeted them off course, but each time she regained control quickly and resumed their path downward. Sweat slid down her face and beaded on her chin but she didn’t waste time wiping it away; the shuttle had been damaged enough that she had to keep it in hand. At long last Ryder spotted the landing zone SAM had chosen and began a more rapid descent.

Minutes later the shuttle finally touched down with a groan accompanied by a teeth-jarring jolt and Ryder’s hands sprang away from the controls; she fell back to the seat, breathing hard, but mostly she was overwhelmed with relief at still being alive. After nearly nodding off on the spot – she really was exhausted and SAM couldn’t mask it fully – she jerked herself awake and went back to check on the Moshae again. Once she was certain that the older woman was unhurt and positioned as comfortably as possible given the circumstances, she stood and approached the airlock, but before she even took a step something caught her attention and drew her to a halt.

“Is that… gunfire I hear?” she asked.

Affirmative, SAM replied.

Ryder cursed and made for the exit. A moment later she was standing on blessedly solid soil again, purple mist swirling around her ankles, but what was in front of her was a scene out of a nightmare. Screaming angarans and Initiative men and women were battling what appeared to be a swarm of RemTech bots, but unlike any she had ever seen; half of them seemed arachnid in appearance and behavior, but what truly horrified her was the sight of one of the silo doors looming in the near distance, just one, easily twice as high up and more across as the Tempest, gaping open and disgorging hundreds of bots. Worse, many of those streams marched straight into the jungle instead of joining the battle at hand. She jumped as she witnessed one of the arachnids leap at an angaran from behind, one of its legs suddenly driving through the man, slicing through shields and armor with indifferent ease.

“What have we done?” Ryder gasped.

#mass effect andromeda #akksul #akksul x ryder #fanfiction #angst #writers

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