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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

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Whumptober Day 29: Emergency Room

CW: Medical whump, sick whumpee, hospital whump, brief references to past child abuse and resulting traumatic association

Immediately follows Infection and Disorientation

Chris wakes up in the middle of a sentence.

Or rather, when his brain switches back on and he is conscious on a level he can participate in, he’s already talking, and the first thing he is aware of is a woman’s face, brown-skinned and with a slightly dry smile, watching him as he is saying, “-and, and, and then I saw, um, saw towels and the, the, the colors were all wrong, so, so I fixed them.”

“Oh, did you,” The woman replies, and there is a guarded kindness in her. “That was very kind of you.” He blinks at her, his vision slowly coming into focus. Chris takes a deep breath only to wince as a hazy sort of pain ripples up his right side. She leans over, a little closer. Her hair, black and full of tightly-wound curls slips over her shoulders and forwards, just brushing her cheeks. “Are you back with us? Don’t breathe so deep yet, okay?” She tilts her head, putting a hand up to push some hair back from his face. Jake does that sometimes, and Chris turns his head to encourage the affection, closing his eyes again.

Eyes closed feels better.

In the clinic they’re always kinder to trainees, if still brusque, businesslike, getting them in and out with bandages applied, fevers broken, internal injuries healed with rest and whatever drips down the IV to make them sleep when they have done nothing but beg for sleep since they lost themselves to the Drip.

The nurses are nicer than the handlers, and this one is talking to him and touching him but only where he wants her to, and that makes her the nicest of all.

The way the world is spinning begins to settle when his eyes are closed and she lays her hand briefly against the side of his face, and he breathes a little more easily. He must not be in trouble, if she’s allowed to be so nice.

There’s something beeping nearby, and he doesn’t like the flat white light coming from the fluorescents in the ceiling laying on exposed skin - he can feel its weight on his arms where they lay on top of the scratchy rough blanket - but at least it isn’t a cold light.

He shivers, opening his eyes to look down at himself, blinking. There are blankets pulled up to just under his arms, pale blue and sort of rough and soft, both at once, pilling so badly he can pick the little balls of fabric off bit by bit with one hand. Normally trainees don’t get blankets in the clinic, they’re supposed to freeze here, too.

He must have been very good but hurt anyway. Sometimes the handlers just want to hurt you, even when you’re good, because your tears are beautiful, too.

Besides, 499, you wanted this - you signed up so we would make you cry, right? Give me your arm, a little half-dose of purple should get you nice and worked up for us.

He tries to obey, rolling his left arm slowly over to expose the marked-up space at the inside of his left elbow - bandages wrapped around his left wrist over his barcode crinkling - and then realizes something is on - is in - his left arm. There’s… there’s a needle in his arm already, with a thin tube that runs up to a stand on wheels with multiple bags hooked onto it, and he thinks there’s something down below his waist, too. A catheter.

He’s been bad, then. There’s only one reason to have a needle in his elbow and a catheter in, but when he tries to panic, he’s… he’s too tired, and too dizzy, and too foggy, to feel very scared at all. Even if they are going to take him away again, it’s too late. The Drip is already in his veins and there he goes, all of him, wiped clean all over again.

The soft throb of pain along his right side, wrapped up in the gentle blanket that covers his mind, makes it clear he’s not going anywhere very fast, not today. The handlers will have to leave him alone, and that’s good, but if he’s here and on the Drip, it means he’s back again.

Back in the Facility, here to be wiped, refurbished, and sent back to Sir or to someone new… and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

He feels his throat closing against helplessness - no, he was rescued, he was rescued and they said he’d never go back… they swore, they promised, Jake and Nat promised they wouldn’t let him go back, Jake would have fought them, he would have done something-

Tears flood Chris’s eyes and he hitches in a breath on a whimper. Jake must have gotten too hurt to save him. He must have, he might even be dead-

If it weren’t for you, she’d still be alive-

“Hey, hey, come on now.” The soft female voice is closer now, and her hand is back on his face, up to run back through his hair as he sniffles, coughs, winces as the dull pain sharpens briefly and then fades again. “It’s okay, you’re okay. It’s just the hospital, yeah? Your appendix ruptured, you had to come here in an ambulance, had some pretty serious surgery. Can you remember that?”

His eyes manage to open, blurred through his tears, and he looks at her. She’s not wearing the uniforms that handlers or even the nurses wear, but a softly floral scrub top and plain navy pants. Her smile is different than any nurse’s in the clinic that he’s ever seen. She’s looking at him, not through him.

“I d-don’t know where, where, where I am,” He whispers, and she nods, her smile still in place.

“I know. That’s why I’m the one sitting here with you right now. You’re in the county hospital. You’re okay, Chris.”

Not 223499, but Chris.

He reaches back into his own mind and finds the train track that Jake and Nat are on, remembers their faces, their names, the way it feels when they hold him. He brings up the memory of Jake pulling his shirt off, handing it to Chris, whispering, I’ll come back, I promise.

He remembers Jake carrying him up the stairs three days later.

Chris holds, for a moment, the memory of Jake looking at him as they loaded him onto the plastic-backed bed-thing in the ambulance. He can remember, clearly, Jake's voice. We’ll be right behind you, Chris. I swear to God I’ll be there. I promise you, buddy, we’ll bring you back home.

He’s awake.

Jake isn’t here.

“Um, J-Jake, my, my… my…” Chris shakes his head, like a dog shaking off water. What had Nat been saying, before the ambulance came? Talking to Jake, the two of them, going over their story. His name is Christopher Stanton. He’s my little brother, and he’s autistic. “My, my, my my my brother, my-... he p-promised, where’s-... need my, my, my brother-”

“I texted Yoder when you started talking,” The woman says gently. “They’ll be up to see you in just a minute, okay?”

He tries to believe her.

There’s a fog in his thoughts and the trains are all running, but slow, finding their way, winding around the gray clouds in his head. “I, I was talking already,” Chris whispers. “Even… though I wasn’t, um, awake.”

His throat feels a little scratchy and rough, like someone shoved something down there, but the agonizing pain he’d been in - the sharp ache that had been a knife shredding him to nothing again and again and again - is gone. In its place there’s a duller throb, and the sense of floating inside a very nice fog. Like the fog he hates, but… better, somehow, too.

“I was… was asleep, and now… ‘m talking, but, but I was still, um, asleep, and… and and and… and talking…”

“Yes, that happens. It’s coming out of sedation, you kind of wake up before you really wake up, you know? I’ve done this before, and you know, I had someone once who… came back to himself in the middle of telling me about a margarita recipe he used to make for his girlfriend. He didn’t remember it any longer when he was awake. That’s the fun of recovery, I hear all kinds of things when I’m with someone. My wife proposed to me in recovery from her own surgery, you know. She doesn’t remember it at all.”

“You�� you you you said yes?” Chris looks back at her. He can focus his eyes again, and the look of her is nice. Soft, but like she’s had to be hard before. Like Nat looks, sometimes, only Nat doesn’t have a wife, or anyone at all but… but Jake, just like everyone else has Jake to help.

He moves his right hand, gingerly - he can feel the thick bandage wrapped around his left, and is never less than terribly aware of the needle in his elbow - and she takes it in both of hers.

Her hands are cool, and dry. He smiles, faintly, and lets his head fall back against a flat pillow behind him. There’s a window to his left, three panes of glass, and outside, when he turns his head, he can see some trees, a courtyard. Birds hopping around the branches, but he can’t quite see what kind they are.

The woman squeezes his hand lightly. Chris takes a breath. This isn’t the clinic, because there are no windows at WRU. You’re never allowed to see outside, not until your owner is ready for you, not until you are good enough to go home.

Going outside is a privilege a pet has to earn.

This… this must be what an actual hospital looks like. He’s seen them on TV, sometimes. The TV ones didn’t really look much like this.

The woman keeps his hand in one of hers and uses the other to check her phone. “Oh, I made her ask again when she was all the way conscious, but yes.”

“That’s, that’s that’s nice. I’m Chris.” His voice is low, and shy, and he doesn’t see her nod - he doesn’t want to stop looking out the window at the clear morning sky - but he can kind of feel it, anyway.

“I know, sweetheart. Your family will be here any second, but they wanted you to have someone when you woke up, so I’m kind of sitting in for them for a bit. Don’t worry, they’re on their way.”

“Jake-”

“Yes, I’m told there’s a man named Jake and, you know, I know Yoder pretty well by now.”

“Why… why, why why why do y’call… Nat? Yoder?”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know. Just always have. Used to be we weren’t allowed to know each other’s first names, so I guess the habit stuck. How are you feeling?”

“Um. Weird. Am, am, am I… give m’drugs?” Fear hits, again, but it’s faded, a shadow of itself. He shifts his left arm and feels tape pull against the skin inside his elbow, looks at the tubing that runs from the needle up to a bag hanging on a metal stand. There’s a machine, too, that shows numbers he doesn’t understand. His eyebrows furrow. “Was I… bad?”

“No, sweetie, no. No. You just had to have surgery, and you have to be knocked out for that.” The woman pats his hand again, and Chris tries to relax himself. There’s a window, and if there’s a window, he’s not going back. He recites the differences like an incantation. Like a chant. Like a prayer, to keep him safe, as long as he does everything just right.

There’s a window, and so he can’t be going back. He can see outside, the sky and the sun, and so he’s not going back. There’s kindness here, compassion and warmth, and so he isn’t going back. His wrists and ankles aren’t strapped down to the bed, so he’s not going back. Her hand holds his but it doesn’t touch him anywhere he doesn’t want, so he’s not going back. “Do you know what an appendix is, Christopher?”

Chris looks back at her. She has a nice face, and warm eyes, and calls him a name and not a number, so he’s not going back.

He can remember Jake, so he’s not going back.

Jake will come find him, and he’s not going back.

“No, ma’am,” He says, softly.

She laughs, and he likes the sound of her laughing, shaking her head, her curls moving with her. “Not a ma’am, thanks. I appreciate the politeness, though. I just don’t like being ‘ma’am’d, I’m not quite that old yet, now am I?”

“Where… where, where where where Jake is from, you c-call… everybody sir or, or ma’am, if you’re… if you’re raised right.” He tries to put the hint of sarcasm, dry and cynical, that Jake always has when he says it, but it doesn’t work for him. He can tell it doesn’t quite sound the same. He is floating, in this warmly lit room, watching the sky change from grayish-pink to purplish and finally to a pale blue, going cooler and deeper at the top.

The sun is rising, warm, to wash away the cold light.

“Well, that’s not where I’m from. In any case, your appendix is this little doohickey right there along your right side, and yours got infected. So Yoder-... well, Nat, I guess - called a mutual friend of ours-”

“Am-... ambulance,” Chris whispers, thinking of the two people, moving around him. His memories are faded and terrified and full of pain, but he thinks of the gloved hand on his shoulder, the hint of a brusque, calm reassurance, cool focused expression and clear brown eyes. “Finn.”

“Right. That’d be my friend. Then you weren’t feeling super great when we got you here, your appendix burst and you sure gave Mandela a job to do cleaning out that infection, huh? Finn stuck around to help out with that, they trained as an Army medic. Did they tell you that?”

Chris just blinks at her, and slowly shakes his head.

“Yeah, way back. Signed up right out of high school, dealt with some scary shit when things got tense at the Canadian border when Canada started taking runaways… anyway, they’re good in a pinch, but so am I, I guess.” She shrugs. “We can’t trust everybody, so… they helped us get you stable, and then we got you in and out of that OR. Just between us, though? Can you keep a secret?”

Chris blinks twice, then slowly nods.

“Good. Just between us, I think they stuck around because they took a shine to you. Anyway, now you’re hooked up-... let’s see, they said you wouldn’t like the IVs, so let me tell you, it’s something for your pain and a literal ton of antibiotics, that’s all.”

“An, antibiotics-... for the, um, the the infection?”

“Right. That’s all it is, I promise, antibiotics and something to make sure your incision doesn’t hurt too badly. Mandela knows her work, you should be able to leave in the next few days. Mandela’s kind of an arrogant blowhard, but she’s also maybe the second-best surgeon I’ve ever met and she’s, you know, safe… for you. Lucky for us she was meeting someone at that Starbucks across from the hospital, huh?”

“... lucky, lucky for us,” Chris repeats, just to show he’s listening, but he doesn’t quite understand what he’s being told. He could, he thinks, if he could just wake all the way up, but the hint of fog makes the connections a little more difficult, more of a struggle. “Um, can, can I, can I ask-... are you… Tori?”

The woman blinks, and then laughs again, and Chris smiles faintly in return. He wants her to laugh again and again, it’s a nice laugh, it changes the light inside the hospital room when she laughs like that. Makes it brighter, more like sunshine and less like a cold white room with a door he can’t open.

He wonders if her wife makes her laugh.

“Oh, Finn got chatty in the ambulance, hm? Well-”

There are footsteps, and the woman turns before she can answer his question.

“Let’s see… 210, 212… 214… here it is, 216, this should be it. Jake, damn it, knock first-”

The door opens with a hard jerk of the knob, and Chris looks to the doorway. He knows the bit of blond hair before he sees the face it belongs to. The fog inside his head is familiar, but it hasn’t taken anything away from him.

They didn’t take Jake away.

He lets go of the woman and a smile stretches across his face. The throb of pain is gone, it can’t hold together under the weight of the warmth inside him. “Jake!”

Jake moves through the doorway, eyes on Chris, the bright blue focused and intense, shadowed from lack of sleep. His hair mussed, and he’s still wearing the clothing Chris saw him in last, rumpled. He drops a backpack on the floor as he moves, and he doesn’t even seem to realize he’s done it. Nat appears behind him, her braid half-undone, circles under her eyes dug in even more deeply than the ones under Jake’s.

Jake leans over him, one knee up on the bed. “Hey, buddy.”

“Hi, hi, hi, um, hi-... h-hi, Jake.” He holds out one hand. “Um, can you, could, could you please-”

“Oh, Christ, be careful, he just had surgery!”

The woman’s warning is lost, because Jake is already hugging him.

Warm, strong arms around him, and he tucks his head right under Jake’s chin and breathes in the familiar smell of him, deodorant and cologne and the laundry-smell from his shirt, the skin-smell of Jake underneath all of it. The simplest way to anchor himself, the greatest certainty he has that he isn’t going back, because Jake is here, and Jake would never let anyone take him away, not ever again.

“There were people having a fucking pizza party in the ER waiting area while you were in surgery, I thought I’d kill them with my bare hands if I had to listen to it any longer. Who the fuck orders fucking delivery pizza at the ER?” Jake’s voice is cracking, and Chris hums, twisting his right hand into Jake’s shirt, twist-and-release, then finger-twist-tap-tap-tap, and it’s solid and real and the sun is so pretty outside the window.

“Sorry I, I, I, I didn’t tell you I was, um, was sick,” Chris whispers.

“Sorry I didn’t know without you having to tell me,” Jake whispers back. “I hate hospitals, little man, you have no idea how much I hate having to tell lies in a hospital again. Fuck, I hate hospitals so fucking much.”

“Me, me, me me me, me too, but, um, but it’s okay with you here. It’s okay. It’s, it’s not-”

“It’s not the same,” Jake says softly.

“Right. Not, not, not the same. I’m, I’m, I’m not, not, not, um, not going… going back.”

“Never, Chris. Not ever. Letting you go in that ambulance without me is the second-hardest thing I’ve ever fucking done,” Jake whispers, and tears build in Chris’s eyes as he buries himself against Jake’s neck, his hands making short, jerky little flapping motions as he struggles to keep the feelings inside him from overwhelming his ability to speak.

“What, what, what was, was the hardest?”

“What?”

“What’s, um, what’s… what’s the, the, the… the-the hardest thing? You’ve, you’ve ever, um… ever done?"

Jake’s breath hitches, and there are tears in his voice as he holds on tight. “Sitting in fucking limbo knowing I couldn’t be the one to help you.”

Chris swallows back a twist inside his heart. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah, just… having to be stuck outside while someone else did all that shit that it feels like I’m supposed to do.”

There’s a sudden rustle at the window, and Chris turns his head just enough to see a flutter of red wings disappear down towards the courtyard below.

---

Tori belongs to @whump-tr0pes and is used with permission and great love

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

#whumptober2020 #no. 29 #emergency room #sick whumpee #hospital whump #medical whump #conditioning #trauma recovery #trauma recovery whump #recovering whumpee #surgery reference #brief child abuse reference #box boy #box boy universe #box boy multiverse #chris the strawberry blond romantic #jake the shelter guy #found family #listen let me have my heavy-handed touches okay.

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grahammasurian · 3 years ago

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Dumping Your Responsibility.

The dumpster outside my apartment building was completely overflowed. The truck missed a couple weeks for some reason and people just kept piling their shit on top regardless.

“My sin will be forgiven, the next sinner will go to hell!”

This came into my head whenever I thought of the garbage situation. I considered myself 99% innocent since I didn’t use the dumpster during these couple weeks. Unfortunately when disaster happens it doesn’t care how much you were involved, all it sees is your darkness.

What I could have done was call up our landlord. Maybe I didn’t add directly to the trash pile but I still could have brought attention to it. Unfortunately my mind gave me a great reason for not calling him, a wonderful why even bother type of belief. These curses will kill you but they provide immense relief.

He lives someplace nicer and keeps his back turned on this building, so if I don’t tell him anything he’ll keep believing whatever fantasy he’s living. Whenever I bring up something for him to look at he puts it off or conveniently forgets about it, can’t say I blame him. I'd love to do the same sometimes and then feel guilty about it for the rest of my life. It’s hard to convince myself that a life of eternal guilt is worse than a life of hard work. Maybe the simple solution is to just disregard the guilt and make everyone despise me, though I can’t say that seems like a good long term strategy.

I guess everyone likes to avoid responsibility too, don’t get me wrong I get it, because man it sure feels good to not take anything seriously, just sit back and relax through life, I’ll lay down in my bed and fold into a quarter circle. Pull my knees up to my chest and gently hold myself, like swinging in the breeze floating along to somewhere better.

Eventually some birds had a war over the trash that was at this point spilling everywhere, old food, old clothes, plastic shit, maybe real shit. It was a disaster but seemed to be an appropriate punishment for us. I watched a seagull pull apart a bag for 30 minutes, something about the completely boring and ordinary scene held a power over me. I imagined this feeling of our civilizations being consumed again by nature, it’s easy to forget that nature is constantly trying to integrate us more effectively. Integration with an ocean with a mysterious intention.

We could have salvaged things there, rescued some of our dignity and just accepted responsibility for what we did by not doing. I sat some nights debating whether or not I should just go out there and clean up everything alone. I didn’t mind the day, but at night I just loved how things seemed to come to life inside me. There was a power that I didn’t have access to during the day.

I decided it wasn’t worth cleaning up, after all I don’t really care what these people think of me, unless they express it to me. Plus I felt like I fit in better with my environment as a lazy drifter. When I run into the people that live here occasionally there is enough willpower on all our parts to say “Hi” and then move on our way. The two people that live under me, man and wife, maybe around late 50’s early 60’s always give me a glimpse into a possible future. The guy looks like his soul has been sucked out and not in a good way. It scares me for a moment and I tell myself I’ll keep it in mind but my actions don’t change.

The next week after the missed pickup and our experiment with apathy, something happened.

It was 12:33 AM, I was laying down in my bed with the window open, listening to the wind and feeling the slight breeze on my skin. Sometimes I’d lay there for hours listening to music or in silence, using drugs of course. The sounds of the night combined with distant sounds of the city created the backdrop for the worlds I explored in my mind. I break away from the atmosphere and write some ideas down in some form then go back to my mind.

I heard a familiar sound, the mother of this girl screaming in that resentful kind of way. Whenever someone talks that way to me my stomach gets sick, I see this person is using me to escape from something. You know instantly that this isn’t about you anymore, it's about them.

I hated the way this mother yelled at her daughter, I didn’t have kids of my own but I didn’t mind them, I generally see children as innocent beings until they gain awareness. When they become aware they turn into wood, hopefully they make it through and become real but many don’t. Some play as the twisted craftsmen, shaping the world with design. Night after night I’d hear this poor girl being molded into something that will make her unhappy for the rest of her life.

Even though it’s hard to feel connected with darkness, you still elicit feelings for things of the night. You react more on principle and not bigger picture at night, this mother was injecting venom deep into the mind of her daughter. Like a jackass I sat there each night it happened and listened to it like music.

Being man enough to walk down there one day and call her out on her shitty behavior was always in the back of my mind, but then I would think some more and figure what difference would it make? Sometimes I snap out of my delusions and wake up, I see who I am from up here.

Just look for the right words.

It didn’t happen every time but sometimes this warped girl would dash outside, slamming doors and shouting behind her. Most times I’d hear her small steps pace around or walk down out of earshot then eventually I’d hear her again coming from the other side of the building, maybe doing two or three laps like that before cooling off and gaining enough strength to go back. She feels like she just wants to give up but chooses to continue to face that fate which shows just how much courage she had.

This night the young girl made her usual escape, something about the scene caught my attention. Normally I just ignored it for the most part, but tonight I felt worried for her and listened to see if she was okay.

The shriek of her screaming scared me sober. That kind of pitch that you can only get when you feel real terror.

Confusion at night amplifies fear to a level that can go beyond anything you’ve ever felt. Sometimes hearing a loud noise randomly in the middle of the night only to realize it was something conspicuous is an interesting moment of tension and release of tension. When you listen to death it creates tension that doesn’t go away unless you force it to release.

I couldn’t see much but the sounds made up for the rest, I looked on in horror as this poor unfortunate girl came running towards the front door to come back inside. She must have forgotten to prop it open a little this time like she usually did. The door was shut, she couldn’t escape through there and it was the only chance she had time to try.

This whole thing happened so fast it was as if my mind refused to think about what I was seeing, this bear that must have smelled some food nearby came across her instead.

Hearing someone produce screams that come from a dangerous place, sends a painful shock through you. It would have been nice if I was one of those people that got off on that kind of thing but unfortunately I had to deal with the feelings of misery, dread, sadness, fear, anger, all at once.

A little bit slower than what should have been immediate there was incredible energy from all around, people coming out and making noise, not too many but enough for me to be impressed.

The general sentiment at the time was:

“Oh My God!” A big fat lady wearing a shaggy blue sweater screeched out. There were many other intense shouts, deflated yelps, sobbing murmurs, all mixing together slowly creating the atmosphere for a tremendously horrific scene.

All these half awake people, semi-disconnected souls felt something deep down within them for once. For the first time in decades some of these hopeless people felt alive, they acted without thought calling back to our primate ancestors. They witnessed a driving force, without realizing the lesson unfortunately.

Some of the people approached the girl to try and attempt some kind of help and others stayed away, accepting the situation or too afraid to know how bad it really was.

Some sobs were heard throughout the night as people came and went, voices that sounded defeated, voices that sounded ready to give up and heavy with guilt.

“Emily! No!” The mother cried. Obviously still drunk. Obviously deluded into thinking her daughter is anywhere close to alive.

“Please baby I’m so sorry! Please wake up baby!”

I had great disdain for this mother, but at that moment I felt bad for her. This woman made mistakes and in the end all it causes is suffering.

They came for her daughter, whisked her away into the abyss forever. Black cloaks riding into the stars on their skeletal horses. I wasn’t sure whether or not the constant beating I was hearing was a drum or my heart. We summoned these demons with our ritual, the choices we made were acts of incantation that brought forth monsters with the power to possess mortals, the possession was the final step in ensuring resurrection lest one of us snap out of the hypnosis and rescue the rest from the gaze of Medusa.

Then some downcast EMT workers took away her body, from the low looks and words after immediately coming upon the scene it was clear that hope didn’t exist anymore. I never saw the aftermath personally, where the actual attack happened was obscured to me by the awning over the door. Sometimes imagination makes things worse.

The mother followed her daughter into the darkness 3 weeks later.

#creative writing #short story #tale #journal #writeblr

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thatringboy · 3 years ago

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The Day Before Halloween - Supernerds

I had some people ask me how Matrix became a superhero so I decided to write out part of his origin story! Also, last name reveals for Oliver and Matty

Word Count: 2,306

Warnings: Blood mention

Matthew Oeste was a superhero, but not a usual one.

He had no flashy powers, striking physique, booming voice, nothing that would make him stand out. He learned from a young age that firewalls on the internet didn’t apply to him. Passwords? Nonexistent. He had the entire digital world at his fingertips and he could control it all with a thought.

Matthew didn’t ever plan on becoming a hero. He kept his head down, helped his parents around their bodega, got good grades and lived a normal life. He refused to cut his hair when it started growing down his back, went to prom with a pretty girl, got a scholarship for a two year degree at a local university and floated through life without many problems. With his powers, Matthew could easily rise to the top of the advertising and marketing world, being able to monitor trends all across the globe at once.

His parents always told him that the hardest part was not changing things. It was a cheesy line that they had stolen from some superhero movie, but Matthew thought about it often. Every time he checked his phone, he could feel his mind wanting to slip within the cyberspace and roam around, so he learned not to. Even if the digital world was usually much more interesting than his real life.

For the most part, Matthew’s life was also superhero-free. Sure, there was the resident team of superhumans that lived in the city, but the young man was never swept up in a battle that flattened city blocks, he didn’t participate in online forums about which hero was the coolest, he didn’t pay attention to which villains got arrested and which escaped prison. For the most part.

There was one incident in his childhood that always popped up in the back of his mind from time to time. He was either nine or ten, it was October 30th, he had just walked home from fourth grade and was thinking about how Mama and Papai had saved up enough money to get him a brand new superhero costume for Halloween. This year, little Matthew was going as “Cyclone”, the resident leader of the city’s heroes who enforced justice with his magnificent wind powers.

He had skipped into the Oeste’s corner shop with such a wide smile, happy to show his parents how well he had drawn himself in his costume. It was a very excellent stick figure, his teacher had said, the best she had ever seen. He was a little worried about telling his parents about how he broke two hair ties during recess, but he had also found two whole dollars on the street that could go towards paying for more. He was a big boy, a freaking fourth grader already! He could pay for his own dang hair ties!

Matthew had waved to the young cashier who’s name he could never remember and immediately went to the backroom so that he could pull out his drawing and get it ready for presentation.

While he worked on smoothing out the paper on the small plastic table he often did his homework on, Matthew heard a noise from the alleyway outside, the only thing separating him from where the dumpsters sat and the bodega’s backroom being a door that was only locked at night. Matthew got up and balled his small fists before stepping over to the door. He had superpowers, he could fight off whatever raccoon or rat was digging around in the trash no problem!

Would you want to fight a fourth grader who could change the tv channel with a thought? I didn’t think so.

Matthew slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open before jumping out of the doorway with the scariest face he could put on.

Sitting on the street, curled up next to the dumpster was a boy only a couple years older than Matthew, unkempt hair falling in his face and arms wrapped around his frail form. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in over a week.

The younger boy dropped the hero act and ran to his side with a worried face. “Hey, are you okay?”

The older boy flinched and tried to scoot away from the child approaching him, but just pressed further into the dumpster. His clothing smelled of sewage and he had a blood stain on his cheek. Whether it was his blood or someone else's, Matthew couldn’t tell.

The younger boy thought for a second before digging the two dollars out of his pocket. “Wait here!”

He ran back inside and slapped the crumpled bills onto the bodega counter. “How much food can I buy with this?”

The teenager working the cash register gave the little boy a smile before pointing to a bag of chips on one of the shelves. “Two bucks can get ya one of those.”

It would have to do. Matthew grabbed the back and ran back to the backroom before locating a towel and wetting it in the backroom’s sink. He jogged back outside to see the older boy hadn’t moved at all, his breathing was slow and labored.

“I got you some chips! I would have gotten you some clothes, but mine are all too small for you. Sorry.” He offered the bag to the starving boy.

The older boy snatched it from Matthew’s fingers and tore it open before shoveling the bbq potato chips into his mouth with such ferocity that Matthew was impressed that he didn’t hurt himself.

As he ate, Matthew got a chance to rub the damp towel across his cheek like his own Mama would when he scraped his skin if he fell. The blood came away and luckily, it wasn’t from a wound. Well, lucky for the boy, not for whoever the blood belonged to.

“I’m Matthew, what’s your name? Do you go to school around here? Do you need my Papai to call your’s?”

The older boy didn’t answer him, opting to dig his fingertips into the chip bag to scoop up the crumbs. As Matthew worked, he ended up shifting the old jacket the older boy wore and noticed that he wore a faded orange uniform underneath it. Printed on his breast pocket was a single word and some numbers that Matthew didn’t understand.

[CHAVEZ #10824006]

“Is your name ‘Chavez’? That’s a funny name, my substitute teacher was named Mr. Chavez today, but you two don’t look alike.” Matthew continued to wipe the blood away. He had watched enough Fast N Furious movies with his parents to know that the uniform belonged to a prison, but why would a little boy be wearing one?

Chavez crumbled up the bag and tossed it aside before slowly getting to his feet, his worn sneakers digging into the pavement. He was over a head taller than Matthew when he stood up straight.

“Thank you.” He whispered to Matthew.

The younger boy opened his mouth to say something, but he heard his mother call his name from inside the bodega.

He spun around and cupped his mouth with his hands. “I’m out here, Mama!”

She appeared in the doorway and looked around the alleyway behind her son. “Meu filho, were you feeding the street animals again?”

“Huh?” Matthew turned around and the older boy was gone, the balled up chip bag discarded on the ground.

Matthew still went trick-or-treating in his new costume after that, but he threw his drawing away and never wore the costume again. For the next week, the little boy had nightmares about the boy named Chavez in the dirty prison uniform, but he could never figure out why. After that day, Matthew stopped paying attention to superhero news, stopped drawing himself as a hero and stopped making up scenarios in his head where he used his powers to throw bad guys in jail. If locking up kids like Chavez was part of the heroing job, then he wanted no part of it.

It wasn’t until he was all grown up, almost twelve full years later, that Matty looked into what happened to Chavez after that fateful meeting behind his bodega.

He was lounging in bed with Oliver after working out together and neither had the energy to do anything else for the day after they had showered. Oliver was reading a book with half of his body laying against Matty’s, his head leaning against the younger’s shoulder like he was a human pillow.

Matty had his phone in one hand and the other was tangled in Oliver’s hair, slowly petting the supervillain like he was a large dog lying on him.

“Hey, Ollie?”

“Hmm?” Oliver shifted so he could turn his head and look at his lover, setting his book down on his chest.

“What’s your last name?”

The supervillain pressed a small kiss to Matty’s jaw. “Why d’ya need to know?”

“You wanted help in finding what tribe you’re from, right? If I plug your family name into a database then the search could be easier.”

“Aight,” Oliver went back to his original position and pulled his book back up. “Chavez, Oliver Chavez.”

A common name, but it was a start. Matty gripped his phone and shut his eyes, his head falling back onto the pillow as he let his mind sink into the small device. He couldn’t actually see anything in this mode, but Matty could visualize a keyboard and a search engine appearing before him.

He didn’t have to move a muscle before his lover’s name appeared in the search bar and his mind dove deeper into the internet. But before he could move to plant the name into an ancestry tracking site, a news article from twelve years ago caught his interest. Matty willed the article forward to read the title.

NATIVE AMERICAN SUPERHUMAN FOUND GUILTY OF CITY-WIDE BLACKOUT & DEATH OF MAYOR

Oliver Chavez, an undocumented superhuman from the Docks District, has been charged with the murder of the late Mayor Murbenks on Tuesday, October 21st.

The image the article used of Oliver Chavez was hidden under several paragraphs describing how a superhuman with electric powers caused a city-wide power outage during when the old mayor was getting his heart operated on. The picture of the superhuman in question showed that Oliver Chavez was a young boy wearing a scared expression on his eerily familiar face.

The memory of the day behind the bodega flooded into Matty’s mind and jerked him back into his body, the feeling of his lover reading on his chest grounding him when his heart beat faster with the rage boiling inside of him.

Not once did the article mention the boy’s age. All the article spoke about was how the boy used his powers to overload the circuits in the power plants and caused power to go out in the entire city. Oliver Chavez was thirteen and all the article spoke about was that he was a Native American who grew up in the foster system and was from a poorer district of the city.

Matty opened his eyes and leaned over to press a kiss to Oliver’s hair, causing the older man to hum softly as he turned the page of his book. “That was quick, what'd ya find?”

“Found out that I was hungry, that’s what. Mind moving, big guy?”

Oliver grunted and groaned as he sat up, his muscles sore from his work out, but happy to let his partner slide out of bed and make his way to the door.

Matty took his time walking to the lair cafeteria and picking up two backs of bbq potato chips before heading back to Oliver’s bedroom and sliding back into his original spot, smiling when Oliver sat back up to let him back in.

The ex-hero dropped one of the bags onto Oliver’s chest and pulled open his own. “There ya go, Chavez.”

Oliver frowned and moved the bag out of his line of sight. “I didn’t ask for anything.”

Matty sighed and popped a chip into his mouth. “Funny, you didn’t ask for anything the first time I gave you some chips either. You just said ‘thank you’ like a polite little boy.”

The supervillain closed his book and set it aside, sitting up and twisting to make a confused face at his lover. “When did this happen? Am I forgetting something?”

The ex-hero snorted and gave his boyfriend a loving smile. “You don’t remember? Day before Halloween, a little over a decade ago, Chavez No.10824006? A little Portuguese kid giving you some food and cleaning you off?”

Matty watched as Oliver clearly raked his mind for the memory and how his eyes slowly widened in realization. “Holy shit, the little fucker in the stupid jacket was you?!”

“Hey, my Mama got me that jacket!” Matty pouted.

He let out a noise as Oliver’s large arms wrapped around him and he felt the weight of his lover fall on his chest. “Damn, I guess you’ve really been saving me since day fucking one.”

Matty hummed and kissed the top of Oliver’s head again with another smile. “I guess I am. But truth be told, your last name is kinda boring.”

Oliver lifted his head up with a cocked eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhm, I think you’d do much better with mine instead.”

It took the supervillain a hot minute to run what Matty had said through his brain. When he did, Matty relished in the way his face burned and how he pushed his face into the ex-hero’s chest with a whine. “Matty-y-y-y, you fucking ughmmnm, that was smooth as hell.”

“I know.” He kissed Oliver’s hair again and attempted to pull his arm out of the embrace so he could grab his chips and pop them into his mouth with a satisfying crunch.

#maybe i'll write out how matty met his ex and became a superhero another day #also i'm loving how quickly oliver and matty became domesticated gays who coexist cutely #Oliver's love language is physical touch and Matty's is words of affirmation btw #supernerds #ocs #my ocs #writing #my writing #original writing #original characters

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red-doll-face · 5 years ago

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keeper. [michael myers x gn reader]

Part 2 is finally here! A few people were asking if I would do a sequel and obviously the answer is yes, but this is the last part. I hope u enjoy reading it ! 😳💖

here is the link to the first part: locked in.

Summary: ‘Missing Persons Case? Infamous Murderer Prime Suspect.’ ‘On October 31st, at 12:02 a.m., a phone call was made to the Haddonfield police department. When reporting to the scene several officers and the deputy reported signs of a struggle. Stray pieces of glass and an open back door lead to a possible B&E as well as a suspected kidnapping. Though usually that would be an apt assumption, because of Michael Myers’ suspected involvement, some speculate it may not even be a missing persons case. According to the leading officer on the case, the case may be an outlier but “Myers is definitely a suspect. If not him, at least a copycat”. The search for the Haddonfield resident continues but the chances of this particular victim being found alive have never been so low.’

WC: 3,835

Warnings: kidnapping, nsfw content (smut scene) , implied minor character death (he tries some funny business so he deserved it). A spider, Stockholm syndrome, Michael being a bastard. I will say that the smut is somewhere between dub con and consensual. This is Mikey so be careful.

You don’t know how long you’ve been inside of this dark room. The smell of dust and mildew makes you not want to breathe but you’re used to not having choices anymore. Everything you’ve tried to get out always ends in failure or worse: Letting your kidnapper know that you tried to get out. He’s caught you in the act and ripped you away from the windows many times. Crying and wailing don’t seem to appeal to his conscience at all so you’ve stopped wasting the water. You sit in the room and can only be glad that he hasn’t restrained you or tried to tie you up. But you understand it’s because he knows that he can always stop you from leaving. Can always drag you back.

The door opens and you snap your head up to see your masked kidnapper enter the room you’re holed up in. He’s holding a bag of what you know is whatever he stole. The paper bag he carried was crisp and new but you could see just a faintest spray of blood. The assortment of common grocery items he placed at your feet painted a mental image of a suburban mom just coming home from the market. Stopped by some impossible force. Just to feed you. You wished you could spring forth tears but you had already shed so many. They’ve done nothing for you. You almost didn’t want to eat but you couldn’t deny the loaf of bread. Counting on his will to feed you was dangerous. If he lost track or forgot, you could potentially starve or die of dehydration. You took what you could where you could get it. Where he would let you.

He watched you, lingering in the dark corner. You thought that maybe he felt more comfortable there. You sat among a pile of various fabrics tossed upon a mattress. You hated to think that he prepared to take you away. But it was so hastily thrown together, it was obvious that while you were passed out, he had collected what he could. You doubted that he would have really cared about the ache in your sitting bones, but the fabrics underneath you were better than nothing. He could be crueler. Being grateful put a bad taste in your mouth but you sensed that he favored killing his victims rather than stashing them away. You listened for hours, quieting your breath when you were sure he was gone to see if you could hear anything else. There was no one else here.

Dirty fingers slipped along the plastic wrapped around the bread. You hadn’t been given a bath since you got here and you had been doing your best to keep track of the days since you arrived. 2 days passed from what you could tell, not accounting the amount of space that he took bringing you here. You couldn’t be sure what he planned for you or how long you would end up staying here but you tried to keep your mind sharp.

A bucket of cold water and a rag would have to do for bathing. It was better than nothing but again, being grateful to your kidnapper made you feel like you were betraying yourself. The rag swept across your skin and he had left the room to you, giving you privacy. At least you hoped that he wasn’t watching. He liked to watch. You had a feeling he had been watching you for hours before you had even taken notice that something was wrong. Acutely aware of your presence in the house.

You sighed and replaced your clothes, moving the tin bucket to the corner. You wondered what your parents thought. Now that you were missing, was anyone looking? Did people at school do a vigil for you? Did people put up posters? The thoughts made you uncomfortable but you couldn’t resist. The world moved on with or without you. You regretted not listening to your friends. They had warned you and you had dismissed it as some legend. He should have killed you. Your boredom and thoughts would probably end up killing you first. You noticed that the man in the mask stayed here more often. You thought it might have been to avoid the search parties. But you knew he wouldn’t let them close enough to find you.

He stared at you from his familiar dark corner. And you stared back at him. You tried to show as little fear as possible and in a way you weren’t afraid. He hadn’t done anything that the kidnappers did in the movies. Didn’t cut your finger off to send to your parents for a ransom, did not tie you up and starve you, hadn’t used you for baser desires. You couldn’t understand why he kept you. All of his victims in the past either died, or escaped and moved away. His footsteps, although near silent, tracked away and out the door, wedging the heavy wooden slab against the door frame.

A few weeks later, or as far as you could tell a few weeks later and you had tried just about everything. He had no veritable patterns, so you could never tell when exactly he would be back or not. The sun filtered through the window that was nailed shut and you had tried to throw things at it. It left hairline fractures in the glass instead of crashing through. The screen on the other side would probably keep you in anyway.

Recently, you tried to talk to him. It hasn’t worked. He wouldn’t or couldn’t talk which made you feel awkward but you weren’t able to stand the silence anymore. You had to hear something; even if it was yourself. You talked about your life, as boring as that seemed. You had realized that explaining it made it seem more boring than ever. In your mind, you joked that the future you worried so much about was out of the picture. A sick part of you was relieved that you didn’t have to think about that age old question. It brought a wry smile to your face as you brought your knees up to your chin and watched the moon float in the sky, as if tethered to the Earth by a string.

Michael had just learned your name. It rolled around in his head and if he wanted to say it he would, but he wouldn’t. He had kept you here in an abandoned house left to the elements. He observed you closely and picked up on your tells, the way you twitched and shivered in the cold, the blank expression on your face that was close to his own; he lacked the thoughts that flitted behind your eyes. He had caught you trying to leave but he took a rare joy in stopping you. Dragging you back into his hold, kicking and yelling obscenities. You started talking to him but he didn’t respond. He didn’t keep you here to talk.

Michael was more motivated by the thought of owning you. Of you belonging to him. You would see no one else, you would talk to no one else, you would receive food from no one else. You needed him. And he liked that he did not necessarily need you. Upon meeting you, something had drawn him to you. You were difficult to keep track of and you knew what tricks he would try to get you. He had watched you, heard you, touched you, smelled you, and even tasted you. The thought of you had imprinted on him. In a strange way, he hated that he was so taken with you. Perhaps he should have just killed you. You were of no use.

Then who would he toy with? Trap and torment without that much of a penalty? You were no fun if you were dead.

One night, the autumn cold and rain scented winds drove a stranger to your little hiding space. You were fast asleep but the creaks you had attuned yourself to listening out for sounded off. In fact, he seemed to be making more noise than usual. You thought that he might have been injured or something, loud footsteps echoing up the stairs. Only when you heard a voice did you suspect that it might not even be the man in the mask. The words were unintelligible but they made you shake all the same. Someone was here! Maybe they could help you out.

The wooden door swung open slowly and a bedraggled man stepped inside, not noticing you until you stood from your pile of musty fabrics. You presumed he was some sort of squatter, simply seeking respite from a harsh world.

“Hey, what are you playing at?! Who’s there?” He pointed a small switchblade in your direction and you raised your hands.

“Please! You have to help me! He’ll- He’ll be here any minute!” You scrambled away from the blade, your explanation dropping his guard.

“What the hell are you talking about? Who? Just what are you doing here anyway?” He dropped the pack he was wearing on his back to the floor and you gulped. “Are you some sort of runaway? Little moneybags left their family for a bad-boy-boyfriend? Think he’ll share with me? I’ve got some-”

“What? NO! I’ve been kidnapped by some murderer and-” The man chuckled and inhaled deeply.

“I can smell a lie a mile away, sweetheart.” He began closing in on you and you couldn’t believe your bad luck. In the darkness behind the man, the pale face came closer and closer and you tried to look away to hold his element of surprise. You had never been so glad to see that unfeeling mask in the doorway. The man startled at the hand pulling him back. His element of surprise worked as the man shouted and swiped at the man with his switchblade. Your keepers knife however was much larger. He slashed at the hand holding the little knife and he dropped it. He dragged the man out of your room, clawing at the walls.

“Get him off’a me! Tell him to sto-” As if you told your own kidnapper what he could and could not do. The man kicked the door closed, muffling the pleas. Your chest moved with your panting and you tried to calm your racing heart. Your fingers shook with the settling thought of how wrong that could have gone. It was as though the floor moved beneath you and you registered your body colliding with the for once comforting pile of cloth. The little knife caught the light from the window glinting at you temptingly. You didn’t dare touch it.

After that, you had approached the man with less fear in your heart; not that there was much to begin with. Yes, you were aware of what he did to people on his nights out. You supposed he stalked them a lot like he did you and eventually, when he tired of staying hidden in the shadows, he would wait for just the right moment to strike. Like he did with the squatter. You never did find out exactly what he had done to the man but when he returned he was covered in blood, wet and shining on his jumpsuit. You didn’t really care because he was gone and he had taken him away for you. He checked your body over your clothes for injuries, satisfied with verifying when he found none on your skin. You allowed him to turn your limbs this way and that, his hands big enough to cuff your wrist entirely and overlap.

“He didn’t touch me.” His breath was heavier sounding behind his mask, his head tipping up to acknowledge your comment but equally as unresponsive as usual. His hand swiped down and picked up the knife that the homeless man dropped on the floor, boots tracking over the blood he caused to spill. He left you to your devices after he took the switchblade away but something white fell on the floor, just before he closed the door behind him. It was a thin plastic strip and as you turned it over you could make out words. A hospital identification wristband. Strange marks tattered the material and you could imagine where he tried to tear the thing off with his teeth. On it was his name and birthday as well as some meaningless numbers and letters. The words ‘Smiths Grove Sanitorium’ were starting to wear off but you lamented all the same. Your friends were right. His name was Michael Audrey Myers. You smiled at the middle name. You’re sure if he caught you saying it he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you. The thought made you laugh.

Michael let you wander the house now. From room to room you drifted and explored the dusty house, searching drawers for interesting objects and when you asked nicely he lowered the attic stairs and let you look through the boxes of books and baby toys, long forgotten by the previous owners. Opening the kitchen cabinet revealed a brown recluse crawling among the contents and you screamed, shutting the cabinet way more quickly than you had opened it. When you turned the imposing figure of your captor stood behind you. You pointed at the wooden door of the storage cabinet. He yanked it open, the spider going still again at the presence of another disruption.

“You know that those are poisonous, right?” He looked from you to the spider, unphased by the possibility of it killing him. He picked the arachnid up and your eyes widened at the action. He didn’t think this little brown insect stood a chance of killing him. In a moment, the spider was crushed in his bare hand, curled up and stiffening. Did he just… squish a brown recluse with his own hand? It was dead now, what did you have to worry about? You shrugged and went back to exploring, thanking him passively. You could sense he was still behind you, silent as always. You perused the random kitchen tools and items, rusting keys and finished rolls of tape in designated junk drawers, empty containers and bottles strewn about the counters. Broken light bulbs and useless wires. You grew tired and sat on the plastic covered furniture, your captor content on listening to you read aloud.

“Do you know how to read?” You asked and he looked at you but only tilted his head. You scooted closer to him with a book in your hand. “When I was a kid, they taught me to read. I think it’s fun if you pick what you want to read about.” You pointed at words and he regarded your finger gliding over the page, your enthusiasm lost on him but the smile he could see was more genuine than the others he had seen. “One day, I’ll help you write something.” He had no use for writing but he stayed quiet, granting you this moment of peace.

His hand weaved in your hair, feeling the softness. You had raided the cabinets and found some strange liquid to slather in your hair, untangling as best as you could with fingers. You leaned into the contact, realizing your mistake too late. You had indulged him and he wouldn’t let you go back. His hand followed you, pulling you back by the silky strands. A soft yelp left your lips but he didn’t mind it. You had not been touched in so long that it almost felt good to have his thick fingers running through your hair. Shivers racked your spine at the feeling of his fingers at your scalp. He pulled at your coverings, hands petting at your bare skin, entranced by the softness. At the blood rushing just under the surface. You thought about stopping him but you had seen what happens to people who cross him. Even by accident. He seemed fascinated by the texture of your skin, you hated to think of the grimy fingers on your face but your fleshy cheeks attracted his attention. He had less than stellar hygiene but they seemed cleaner this time, acquiescing to his hand on your chin. You looked up at the bleached mask; it was unfair that you didn’t get to see his face or his emotions.

He always seemed to have some sort of advantage. Some sort of upper hand. Taller. Stronger. Bigger than you.

Soon, he bored of the skin along your arms and petted at your torso, squeezing you when he suspected you to be squirming. You were just ticklish, not like he understood that. He groped and clutched at your flesh, getting used to the sensation. You noticed that although you expected his hands to be rough and calloused, they were actually soft and warm, sweeping over your sensitive underbelly. His long digits inched closer and closer to your groin and your nervousness won over the simple truth you knew. Stopping him was impossible but maybe he would take your discomfort into consideration. Michael, however, was a creature who thrived off of spite. If he was told not to do something, he would do it.

In punishment, your wrist was gripped in a vice-like hold, held away from his prying actions. Your arm went limp in his grasp, listening to the steady low breathes escaping the small orifices in his mask. Placed in his lap like a toy, he continued, ripping the button from your pants, tearing the zipper down. Michael tugged your pants down, eagerly inspecting your legs and thighs. A brief intake of your breath directed him to your inner thighs, staying as quiet as possible to keep him from suspecting anything else. Eliciting that response might have been his goal because as soon as he heard it, he tried to get you to make that noise.

Whimpering gasps left your lips, very aware of the bulge grinding underneath you. His bruising strength did not falter even when you tried to twist out of it. Slow movements ran over your crotch, you could only watch as Michael pushed your underwear out of the way. He was keenly attentive to every little noise slipping past your parted lips, repeating whatever made you make it. He let your hips buck against his leg, your despricity an amusing display. Your muscles are weak, your breath just as feeble. Your skin is warm and your heart beats fast in your ribcage, you can hear it in your ear. He pushed you forward enough for his hand to unzip his coveralls, the layer removed helps you feel the scorching heat of his body behind yours, unnaturally warm against your spine. Michaels hands loosened from around you long enough to pull himself free of the deep blue fabric of his coveralls. Something hot and damp nudged at your inner thigh and you pushed up and away from it.

“I- I’m not-” You choked out, as a last ditch effort to see if he would stop but he didn’t, spreading your legs and reveling in the whine you let out. You weren’t even sure if you wanted him to stop. You figured he would punish you for objecting as a strong palm found your throat, threatening to crush the delicate bones underneath. He shoved himself inside of you anyway, a groan of something between pleasure and pain caught in your mouth. Your head fell back onto his shoulder, listening to the tiny noises he made at the reprieve your body offered him. He had never spoken but the overwhelming sensation it seemed could force him to make a peep. They were not loud but the small grunts and slight moan made you tremble. If your head wasn’t resting on his shoulder, you doubt you would have heard them at all.

Thighs spread over his thighs, hands laid over his hands, gripping at your hips to help the slow motions of his own. Blood under his pale skin ran hot and you perceived that same heat all around you, his frame large enough to make you feel so small. Not just physically. The warm organ penetrating you was bigger than anything like it that you had seen before. Pressure welled up inside of you at the force he built up to take you so roughly. His pace changed just slightly and you lost connection to the outside world for a minute. The hold on your hips tightened, his concentration changed to the space between your legs, stimulating the sensitive skin. The smell of iron, latex, motor oil, and Michael enveloped you as you turned your head, nuzzling into the neck of his mask and the collar of his jumpsuit. The head of his cock nudged just the right spot inside of you and your mouth fell open in a loud moan. Around your head, a haze formed, the pleasure taking your ability to breathe. You craned your head back to see his eyes through his mask, electricity running through your limbs and into your core. The color of his iris wasn’t clear through the shadows of his mask but one was a milky white, blinking lethargically in tune with his other eye. Cold latex, the nose of his mask just touching your heated cheeks made you sigh, the pressure in your lower belly finally snapping like a twig underfoot. You went slack in his embrace, warmth settling deep inside of you. He wouldn’t let go of you.

‘Search for Haddonfield Resident Finally Called Off.’

This weekend, a press conference was held in front of the Haddonfield police station where Sheriff Brackett announced that search efforts for the missing person who disappeared from Garrison Ave. last Halloween would be revoked. After months of no clues or progress and no signs of them or their suspected kidnapper, search parties have stopped gathering to comb the woods and corn fields surrounding the town. The family of the missing person stated that they would not be ceasing the search. Their parents agreed that “the police have been helpful but they’ve given up.” Nonetheless, “[They]’ll never stop searching for [their] baby. Never”.

#michael myers #michael myers x reader #halloween #slashers #slasher x reader #dbd x reader #dbd the shape #dbd michael myers #dbd #red writes #✋😳#🤭

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ggukcangetit · 4 years ago

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Namjoon-ing in the Rain

Pairing: namjoon x reader

Synopsis: You hate the rain but your best friend, Namjoon, doesn’t feel the same.

Genre/AU: fluff| best friends!au

Word Count: 1.6k

Rating: PG-13 for language

Warnings: nothing really

A/N: i’ve never really written a member-centric fic for anyone other than jungkook. not sure how this worked out. just something that felt like being written. mainly because i hate the rain and i miss my friends. banner by @sushireads !!

There is something about the rain. It makes everything horribly squelchy and disgusting. Daily routine is hampered, and everyone and everything is thrown off kilter. Frankly, you hate the rain.

You do not own a car, instead having to rely on public transport for every single commute. Another reason why you cannot stand the rain. Squishing yourself into a crowded bus during rush hour, completely drenched and trying your utmost to avoid the wandering hands of well-meaning perverts, is not your idea of fun. And why are you drenched when the weather app has predicted a week’s worth of showers which should have prepared you to carry an umbrella along with you. Honestly, you have half a mind to sue every single umbrella manufacturer there is. What is the point of the umbrella if you are still soaked to the bone after holding it up in the rain for a maximum of 3 minutes?

Of course, you do not verbalize these grievances when the opportunity arises. Instead, you opt for a more succinct phrase.

“Fuck the rain.”

Your best friend doesn’t have much of a response to this, continuing to sip the americano in front of him.

“Namjoon, pay attention!” you yell, snapping your fingers in front of him to get his attention.

He looks up with a mildly amused expression. “I heard you.”

“It’s only polite to respond when someone says something.”

“Yes, but-” he shuts the book he had been reading- “when someone only ever says the one thing over and over again, responses are more likely to run out.”

“Rude.” You cross your arms across your chest, glaring out the window of the coffee shop situated opposite your place of work - the place you meet Namjoon every Friday when work gets over an hour early.

“Come on, Y/N,” Namjoon chuckles, tapping on the table to grab your attention. “You always complain about the rain, but you’ve never actually said why you hate it.”

“It’s an inconvenience,” you say simply.

“I beg to differ.”

“Why? Don’t tell me it’s some romantic bullshit like the rains make everything magical and wondrous. Or the ever popular notion that rains are cleansing - a new beginning!” You scoff and roll your eyes, fingers impatiently tucking wet strands of hair behind your ear.

“I’m sure that’s true to an extent. But that’s not what I’m talking about,” said Namjoon, tiredly rubbing his eyes. “I’ll try and explain it to you some other time. Right now, I’m too tired to think. Yoongi was up all night mixing tracks and I couldn’t fall asleep in the next room.”

“You should’ve gone home after work,” you say, feeling a little guilty.

“I should’ve,” he replies with a shrug, but doesn’t budge from his seat for another hour as you finish your latte and he makes a few notes in the book he was reading.

An entire month passes by, and you and Namjoon have missed your weekly Friday coffee meets twice. It’s nothing life-changing or particularly alarming that has caused this disruption. It’s just life. But on the fifth Friday, the weather is bright and sparkling, and Namjoon suggests sitting by the Han river instead of inside the coffee shop. Since you are breaking from your routine anyway, you decide to order an iced honey chai instead of your usual latte. Namjoon opts for two iced americanos instead of one.

You’ve only been to the river a handful of times. Each time, Namjoon has been there with you. In a way, you can’t imagine the river without him. Memory is funny in the way that it attaches permanence to the more fleeting parts of existence.

“Did you submit the report on time?” Namjoon asks, stretching his long limbs above his head.

“Just. Two minutes more and I would’ve missed the deadline.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less from a fellow deadline junkie.”

You grin before sipping the iced honey chai. It doesn’t taste that great. This is why you don’t experiment with new things. They tend not to work out for you. Or maybe it’s just that you’re unwilling to give change a chance. But that thought is not something you dwell on for longer than a moment.

“Honey chai not to your liking?” Namjoon chuckles at your disgruntled expression.

“This is the last time I’m experimenting with things. Dunno why I did it in the first place. It’s all thanks to your terrible influence. Changing up our usual meeting place pressured me into changing up my choice of beverage.”

“Whatever makes sense to you.”

“I’m just glad the weather is good today! Crisp skies and warm sunshine! I’ve really missed this!” You gaze up at the sky happily, noting a single grey cloud floating by.

The weather gods have never particularly liked you as is evidenced by the fact that a torrential downpour begins mere seconds after you utter that sentence.

“Fuck!” You stand up, gathering your belongings and calculating the driest path back to the coffee shop.

“Where are you going?” Namjoon asks, not having moved from his place on the bench.

“Inside. In case you haven’t noticed, Joon, it’s raining like the fucking apocalypse!”

“You’ll be drenched by the time you manage to get to any of the shops. It’s actually better to stay here. The benches here don’t really get wet unless there’s a strong accompanying wind.”

You groan dejectedly, dropping your bag on the bench and flopping down beside him. Namjoon always looks so peaceful during rains. It’s a complete contrast to the immense irritation this particular weather phenomenon has always ignited in you.

“Why do you like the rain so much?” you ask, turning away from his handsome profile.

“I don’t like it, per se.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“I have time.”

“I always look to people to learn about life. Each person in my life has taught me something different. But I also realised that this applies to rain as well. There are so many different kinds of rain, and just like the different people in my life, each type of rain has showed me something different about life. There’s the soft shower that barely touches you as it falls from the sky which is such a contrast to the relentlessness of the rainstorms that continue for hours on end. Then you have the sudden storms that burst through without any warning, upsetting the natural rhythm of things. The cold showers in early November that indicate the incoming winter. And lastly, the first rain that hits the ground after a brutal summer. That’s my favorite one because the smell of the wet earth coming to life always reminds me of that day in our first year of college.”

Namjoon wanted to cry. He was nineteen years old, studying art history and business at the most prestigious college in the country, on his way to becoming a research assistant for one of his favorite academics. Yet, today all he really wanted to do was cry. It was the last week of the semester, the weather had been particularly oppressive, the cafeteria had run out of food by the time he had managed to get out of a meeting with his professor, and to top it off, his bicycle chain had snapped just as he was preparing to cycle home.

It was at that moment that you walked over to him. You both had become friends about a year ago, and if he was perfectly honest, Namjoon wasn’t really sure how that happened. You were calm, even slightly formidable, in the way that you handled every part of your college life. Whereas, he was a bit of a bumbling mess, misplacing lecture notes, contact lenses, and plastic utensils. He often wondered what it was that was holding your friendship together.

“You missed food,” you said to him, matter-of-factly. “It sucked. But I snagged one of Seokjin’s homemade chicken wraps for you.”

Namjoon blinked a couple of times before taking the neatly wrapped packet from you.

“Well, go on,” you said impatiently. “Eat it. What’re you waiting for?”

“R-right.”

But just as he unwrapped the foil, a crack of thunder erupted followed by a burst of rainfall. Namjoon had resigned himself to the fact that things were not going to go his way that day. What he had not expected was to hear you yell the most interesting cuss words at the top of your voice.

“FUCKING HELL! THIS WAS NOT ON THE FORECAST FOR TODAY! I DON’T HAVE A BLOODY UMBRELLA WITH ME! BASTARDS IN THE WEATHER DEPARTMENT CAN’T EVEN DO THEIR FUCKING JOBS PROPERLY! UGH!!!”

Though everything that could go wrong had gone wrong that day, he had never been able to forget the smell of the wet earth on that day. Because that was when he began seeing you as a real person and stopped questioning the mechanics of your friendship.

“I realised that day that you and I were different in many ways, but there would always be something that united us. We’re human and all humans feel despair and frustration at something or the other. The rain humanized you that day. And I’ll always be grateful to it because otherwise I would’ve never gotten to know my best friend.”

It continues pouring for a couple of hours more. But the two of you don’t move from the bench alongside the river. The iced honey chai lays neglected on the iron armrest, while the empty americano cups have long since been deposited into the nearby trash can.

There is something about the rain. It makes everything horribly squelchy and disgusting. Daily routine is hampered, and everyone and everything is thrown off kilter. But frankly, there are better things to hate than the rain.

#bts fic #btsbookclub #namjoon fic #namjoon x oc #c me write bangtan #namjoon #kim namjoon

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boleyn-falcon · 5 years ago

Text

‘wouldn’t it be nice?’

okay so ever since i made my Joan and Jane fic (here) I've decided i wanted to make a oneshot for all the ladies and their queens! this one is a lot more happy because my heart can’t handle a sad Maggie rn like i’ll die.

this is also me just being a wannabe soccer jock because i finished my first season this school year :> of yea and if i accidentally refer to it as soccer and not football i’m sorry i’m a dumbass american

synopsis - Anne thinks today would be the perfect day to kidnap her closest friend and sports-related hijinks ensue! with maybe a slight side of bruises and concussions..

Words - 2593

Trigger warnings - none that i know of but tell me if you think i should add one!

Maggie loved the early summer. It was the perfect time of the year, not too hot nor cold. She could leave her window open to let in natural sunlight during the day, she’s always hated artificial lights, they give her headaches. It was the best time to just hone her skills and relax, she could let all of her stress just melt away. The brunette started learning a new song she heard so she could play it to the ladies and queens. “Wouldn't it be nice”, by some old american group called ‘The Beach Boys’, it was a nice feel good song the guitarist just felt amazing hearing. The old song’s lyrics remind her how good her second chance at life really was, “And wouldn't it be nice to live together,In the kind of world where we belong?”, it was perfect.

Her hands gracefully floated over the strings, eyes locked on the chords displayed on her computer screen. It felt like the world had stopped moving for a moment, like everything was calm. Well that feeling didn’t last that long. Maggie’s hands suddenly gripped the neck of the instamet as a large crash came from down stairs, ‘oh no what is it this time’. The musician laid her guitar down on her bed right as a slew of very creative and colorful curses came from what she could only presume was Bessie. With a quick trot down the stairs she was soon to find a very peeved bassist, a started pianist, a confused drummer. She made haste to the living room where they were standing to also find one very apologetic tudor queen and one rambunctious gremlin on the floor, oh and a slightly broken window.

“Gosh Bess I’m so sorry about her, we just got back from pret and i let her buy a large chocolate frappe, i'll pay for the new window..”, the blue clad queen said with a sorry smile. Maria spoke up with a curious tone, “Wait why are you guys here anyway? Atleast give a reason Miss Kermit the Hulk over here came crashing through our window?”, the green eyed woman finally stood up from her place on the floor and shuffled shyly. “Well Cathy wanted to come over and get some piano lessons from Joan and I tagged along to hopefully get some time with my favorite ferret!”, Maggie gave an amused chuckle and stepped forward. “Well okay you sugared up raccoon, what did you wanna do?”, Anne made her way to the couch and plopped down, “Well before we do anything, you need to go change into some shorts and a tank top oh and put your hair up. Cathy then grabbed one of the two drawstring bags she had been holding and handed it to Anne, who was already in some black running shorts and a neon green muscle tank. “Well me and Joan are gonna go hit the keys, you two have fun with whatever trouble Anne will get you both in”, and with that the two shorter girls made their way across the room and began to talk quietly.

The band member made her way back up to her room and began to pick out an outfit. ‘ Huh, I wonder why Anne is having me wear sports gear..the only kind of sport she watches is hockey and that's because she thinks it's funny to see them beat the shit out of each other’. She opened her closet and picked out some white athletic shorts(with pockets because all pants need them in her opinion), and a pastel cyan dri fit shirt with a black double note on the front. Lastly, she ties her hair back in her normal high ponytail she wears for shows.

Finally they were ready and made their way out of the house and onto the London streets. Anne still had her green bag, without giving a single hint to what could be inside. They made their way down into the nearest tube station on the Piccadilly Line. Maggie could now slightly narrow down the places they could be heading,but just a little. They stayed on the hot tube for a good few minutes before the hyper woman pulled her off and gave her a little time to look at where they had gotten off, Hyde Park Corner. This had just gotten even more puzzling as they made their way up to the surface. They were so close to leaving the station, till they had to scan their oyster cards. Anne had gotten through the gate easily with a quick swipe of her card. Maggie walked forward and scanned her card, but as she was walking through she felt a pressure on her waist. The Confused woman looked down to find out.. The gate had closed on her and she was stuck in between the two sides of the machine. “...Well shit… that's a problem”, the two rudor women laughed and Anne waved down a worker to let her friend out of her plastic-mechanical prison.

They finally made it out of the station, at least they already had a funny story to tell the others. They ambled their way down the stone sidewalk, smiling and laughing like school kids. “So I tell Joey about the whole pasta-wall test and she actually does it! Wait it gets better, she grabs a handful of angel hair spaghetti and chucks it at the kitchen wall! In front of Maria and Bessie! Let’s just say she wasn't allowed to be near any kind of noodle for a while”, Anne bursts out in laughter even stronger than back at the station, wiping tears from her eyes. Suddenly the green queen stopped and grabbed her friend’s hand and pulled her over to the other side of the road. “Tadah! We are gonna hang out here and try something new!”,the enthusiastic woman points to the stone arch like structure above them. “Hyde Park? What could we possibly learn here?”, Anne gives no answer as she continues to drag the poor musician into the park and off to a flat clearing.

The Boleyn girl stops right in the middle of the small grassy area and finally pulls out what has been hiding in her bag, a basic football and a small bluetooth speaker. “I thought it would be fun if we learned how to play Football! It seems easy enough and it would be fun bonding for us!”, she put the speaker down next to her bag and put the ball at her feet. Maggie was beyond confused, neither woman had ever tried sports, she knows Cleves runs and does boxing with Kathrine but that's about it. The guitarist gave a nod to the woman in front of her, she was about three meters away. Anne pulls her foot back like a bow and slams the front of her foot into the ball and sends it flying towards the other burnette. The ball hits Maggie’s right shin, she stumbles back and trips over the object at her feet and falls on her backside. “Ow shit!”, both women say loudly, Anne holding her foot and Maggie on the ground clutching her shin.

“Okay so bad idea, maybe we should..I dunno, learn how to play the damn game before we start kicking shit?”, the tudor queen gave a shy nod as she walked over and helped the injured girl to her feet. Maggie pulls out her phone from the pocket of her shorts and goes to her trusty friend, Google. “Okay Mags we should start with how to kick the damned thing without breaking all of your toes”, the guitarist gave a small chuckle and searched what Anne had suggested. After about thirty seconds of looking she finds a short Youtube video titled, ‘How to properly kick a soccer ball’, huh made by an American i guess. She clicked the video and turned her phone so both inept reincarnates could watch. The woman in the video showed her foot parallel to the ball, lightly kicking it with the inner side of her foot, unlike Anne who ‘toed’ the ball from what the woman said. The demonstrator showed how to open your hips wide to pass forward and how to angle your foot to make sure the ball goes in the right direction. After the tutorial ended Maggie turned her phone off and returned it to her pocket. “Okay Anne go back to your spot with the demon-sphere so we can try this again”.

So it was take two and they widened their stances slightly like the player in the video did, “Okay Mags remember to stop it with the side like she said so i don't break your foot! God the other Ladies would kill me..”. Anne got ready and tilted her foot outwards slightly and pulled back, she hit the ball correctly, well sort of. She used the right part of her foot but hit the very bottom of the ball and it flew upwards and towards the poor ferret-like woman in front of her, hitting her square in the face. Maggie stepped back and made a low grunt noise and held her face. “Christ Annie what did you do wrong this time? You did exactly what she said and it was still fucked up!”,Anne gave a confused look with a tilt of her head, “I dunno ‘M, maybe it was wind?”. Both gave a frustrated sigh as they sat down on a nearby bench and started to think. Before they could conjure up a coherent thought, Maggie spotted 3 teenage looking girls with matching gold and red sports uniforms with low and behold, a football. The younger girl shot up from the bench and gave her queen a confident smirk, “Anne i think i have a good but also maybe terrible idea”, she sped up to the girls and stopped them in their tracks.

“Hey sorry to bother you girls but erm… you play Football right..?”, the three girls looked at each other confusingly, “Um”, the tall brunette girl starts, “Yea we are on our school’s team..why?”. Anne catches up to Maggie right as the conversation continues, “Well I’m Maggie and my friend Anne and I want to learn how to play but we are kinda…”, Maggie trails off for Anne to finish, “Bad at it, like really bad”. The tanner girl with gloves on stepped forward with an amused look, “Well okay then, we were just about to go for a short practice so we could totally help you out!”, she put her gloved hand out for Maggie to shake, “I’m Samina, I’m the team’s goalie and these are two out of three of my defenders, Piper”, she points to the girl from brefor who gave a small wave, “And brooke”, a shorter brunette looked up and gave a small nod. “So I see you're already kinda set up here so let's get to it!”, the goalie led her girls over and gave the older pair an encouraging smile, “Show us whatcha got ladies!”. All five of the girls got in a wide spread circle with Anne’s ball at her feet. “Okay so first things first, do you know how to kick it without hurting yourself or sending it to the moon?”, Anne looked over and answered for Maggie, “Kinda, we can do it without harming our precious feet buuut it went flying and ‘bout gave Mags a broken sniffer..”. The shortest girl gave a small nod and gazed over at the pair, “Well then you hit the bottom of the ball, next time hit the middle or top, but i say middle because you might trip if you hit the top”, she said in a monotone voice. Anne decides to give it a go and turns to face Maggie, giving her a look that says, ‘be prepared because this might end horribly’. Giving her queen a quick nod she gets ready to receive the weapon of death, aka the ball. Anne pulls back and hits the ball just like she was told and it zooms towards Maggie on the ground and the brown eyed woman manages to catch it with somewhat ease. “Nice job Bo!”, she says as she rushes to give her green clad friend a high-five who gladly returns. “Now”, Piper starts, “time to learn how to dribble with the ball!”. Both girls groan in response.

After about an hour and a half of learning the simple methods of the sport the girls had to leave so it just left Maggie and Anne to figure it all out from there. Maggie spots an opportunity to turn up the fun and jogs over to Anne’s speaker and connects her phone. An upbeat guitar melody begins to play and just a few seconds later words start to emit from the speaker, “Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long?”. The musician gives a bright smile as the cheerful song plays, she now could really understand how grateful she really was for this new life. She sauntered over to the smiling Boleyn girl and they began to pass the ball around and laugh. They practiced thier passess and dribbleing, even tripping a good few times which made their smiles even brighter as they became covered in dirt,grass, and small bruises.

“Annie! Heads up!”, the ball flew past the queen’s head and into a tree behind her, getting stuck up in some branches. “Shit sorry, i'll go up and get it dont worry!”, Anne gave a worried glance, “Are you sure Maggie? We could just throw stuff at it to knock it down..”, Maggie had already started scaling the tree. It was anything but graceful, she looked like a blind cat with a missing tail,left leg, and whiskers, she couldn't balance at all. After making her way up about 5 or so branches she finally got to their beloved horri-ball. She grabbed it with her left hand, leaving her right, non-dominant hand, to be the one holding onto the flimsy branch above her, it was a recipe for disaster. “Hey Anne, I got the bAL-”, where her last words before the branch gave way and she went tumbling to the ground. Luckily or not so luckily, her dearest queen was there to break her fall. “I told you so”, is all Anne could croak out from under Maggie before she pushed her off. After that fiasco they moved a tad bit farther from the trees so they didn’t have to go home in full body casts.

After a few more hours it was starting to get dark and they thought it best for them to head back to their respective homes. They parted ways and started the trek back to their humble abodes. “See you later Mag! I'll text you later!”, and with that Anne was gone, Maggie has always wondered how she just vanishes right when you take her eyes off her. After a very cautious tube station trip and ride, she was finally home. The guitarist, happy to be home and rest, opens the door, ready to have some quiet time. Her dreams are slightly crushed as she sees a small brown blur scurry across the hall with a very distressed Maria rushing after it. The drummer stops in her tracks to make eye contact with her bandmate, “Bessie,Cathy, and Joey went out for dinner, don't say a word about this Margret”, today just got even more exhausting.

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Okay well that was an absolute acid trip-

i hope yall enjoy some cute bonding shit becuase the last one was so edgy n shit, and before any of you ask, yes the three girls on my team who are all really amazing players and friends and i love them so so much-

the next one will probably be with Maria and Lina and them dealing with Maria’s.... new little predicament haha

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theshopislocal · 4 years ago

Text

corinth rains

New and improved Heaven may well be the Happiest Place (not) on Earth. But Dean, it turns out, is still Dean.

(also on AO3)

chapter six [warning: see tags]

Awareness creeps in, unbidden and inescapable.

He’s at the inlet again, on his weathered bench at the end of the crooked pier. He’s got a beer in one hand, his spinning rod in the other. Line cast. Bob bobbing.

He’s not sure how long he’s been sitting here. Time provides no dimension in Heaven; there are no seconds, no days, no seasons for him to count. Perhaps that’s a good thing; Dean imagines that if time were numerable here, he’d be scratching tally marks into his bedroom wall - a prisoner of war in a darkened cell.

As it stands, it’s only ever dark when Dean closes his eyes, and if Heaven is a prison... well. At least, there’s beer.

He takes a long pull, eyes fixed on his little bob.

There’s another one floating a few yards away - this one blue and dented, like it’s seen better days. It’s been dancing on the ripples in tandem with Dean’s for a while now. Dean could trace the shining line to the tip of its rod - he can just barely see it in his peripheral vision, lost in an amorphous shape at his side.

Dean could turn and look, face the man seated next to him - but he doesn’t. He’d know that scent anywhere: wet leather and gun oil, whiskey and sea salt.

Dean keeps his eyes forward. He doesn’t speak. Can’t speak. Can barely even think around the weight of failed expectations, the clamoring memories of a rod rarely spared. Even now, half a century later, he can still feel the scorn bearing down on his shoulders, pulling his lips into a stoic line.

Dean holds his breath and waits.

The breeze shifts, cypress moss rustling overhead.

“My dad took me fishin’ once,” John says.

Dean’s eyes fall shut, and he swallows around a familiar lump in his throat.

There was a brief period in his youth (though at the time, it seemed unending), when Dean was entirely mute. He doesn’t remember much of it - only flashes of emotion and vague imagery. The teary-eyed frustration as his mouth shaped the words, the breath evaporating in his throat. John’s hands - callused and clammy - clutching at his shoulders, blue-bagged eyes begging him to speak. The fingers had pressed nearly hard enough to bruise, the breath on Dean’s face sour and fermented.

Dean’s eyes flick open, and he stares out at the water. He clears his throat and hunches forward. “Yeah?”

John hums, and Dean sees him nod in the corner of his eye. “He, uh—” he interrupts himself with a hoarse chuckle, and Dean’s jaw clenches. “He found this- this dirty old box of gear in the garage. Tent, bags, couple poles.” His line tugs at the bob as he gestures vaguely with the rod. “Reckon he wasn’t real big on the whole great outdoors thing, but...” He trails off, and there’s a smile in his voice that has Dean frowning. He tries to remember John smiling when he was a boy, when Mom was alive. Dean thinks he must’ve done, but he can’t quite picture it.

“Well,” John goes on. “Somethin’ musta come over him, cuz he—” another soft laugh, “—he threw it all in the trunk, loaded me up in the car, and. Off we went.” John moves in Dean’s peripheral vision - tilting his head, Dean thinks. “Hopped on 35, drove til we hit Evergreen. Set up camp, roasted a few marshmallows for breakfast, then...” he gives a deep sigh, mild and contented. “Fished until the sun went down.”

A memory comes unbidden, floating to the surface of his mind. Him and John, sitting on wet boulders coated in algae, casting lines into the murky creek a couple miles from home. They’d left Mom back at the house, curled up on the sofa with Sammy, barely an infant at the time.

John had put his hands over Dean’s on the rod, showing him how to hold the grip, how to wait for the sudden tension of a bite. Dean remembers the afternoon sun glinting on the water.

He blinks back the sudden sting in his eyes. “You catch anything?” he grunts out.

John is silent for a long moment, unmoving at Dean’s side. Then he huffs out a sigh, murmuring, “I don’t remember.” He gives a tiny dry laugh. “Don’t remember any of it, really, just... the big ol’ smile on his face.” Another soft chuckle, and Dean doesn’t remember the last time he’d heard John laugh so much - even subtle and muted as he is now.

“Think that was the happiest I’d ever seen him,” John says, voice just loud enough to carry over the burbling water. “Fishin’ with me.”

You once told me you and your father did this, Jack had said to Dean, sitting creekside with his rod, graceless and dying. It was your happiest memory of him.

Dean had given a weak protest, though of course, Jack was right. That was his fondest memory of John - a vague half-remembrance from nearly a century ago, buried under a quagmire of regrets.

John sighs, heavy and pained. “Shoulda taken you fishin’.”

You did once, Dean nearly says, though he’s sure John remembers. Dean learned young that that was all John kept in his head: sepia-tone memories of lost happiness.

It’s one thing Dean has never faulted him. One thing they have in common.

Dean sucks in a briny breath. “We’re fishin’ now,” he says, tone sharp with a certitude he doesn’t feel.

John clocks it though, as he always did when Dean got snarky. Punishment was usually swift, the degree of severity proportionate to the count of John’s empties. More often than not, it was a stern look or a barked reprimand - a cuff about the ears, if John was really in his cups.

Of course, that John had rarely smiled - never laughed.

This John shifts awkwardly at his side, leaning toward Dean’s ear.

“Dean...”

No.

“I don’t—” Dean starts and flinches at the sound of his own voice, cracking and harsh. His bob jerks a few inches toward him, and his jaw tenses up.

He takes a shallow breath and tries again. “I don’t need you to say—” he licks his lip, head shaking, “—whatever it is you came out here to say.”

And that much is true. Dean’s well past the point of needing fatherly platitudes from John; he’d crossed that particular Rubicon half a century ago.

John is silent at his side, but it’s flavored with something Dean can’t quite place. Sadness, maybe. Or regret.

Dean’s eyes close on a sigh, chin dropping to his chest. “I don’t need you to apologize,” he says to his hands. “I never needed that. Never wanted—” a dry swallow, “—that.”

And that’s true, too, though he’s never said it in quite those words before.

He remembers curling up on a no-tell bed with Rhonda Hurley, the roach of an inexpertly rolled joint burning his fingertips. She wore his boxers - slung low on her straight hips - and he wore her pink satin panties. They’d fucked and smoked and fucked again, and when she’d caught sight of the fingerprint bruises on his arm - a relic of John dragging him from a werewolf’s grasp, shaking him roughly with fear-scented rage - she’d said simply, Your dad is an asshole.

He’d given no response but a plastic smile, slipping two quarters into the Magic Fingers coin slot. They’d smoked the roach to ash and laughed at the tingling vibrations, Ina-Gadda-Da-Vida blaring from the boombox.

She wasn’t wrong. For all Dean played the loyal son - the at-will soldier - he was under no illusions that John was anything other than a deadbeat dad. But there was something more to it - something he didn’t explain to Rhonda as she’d fingered at his bruises, that he couldn’t explain to Sammy when he’d begged to run away.

“I understood,” Dean whispers, and he feels John stiffen against his side. “I knew—” the pain, the fear. The fucking rage, “—I knew what losing her did to you.”

He thinks of Mary, serving him pie in a house over yonder - how even a hundred years later, he still sees her, gutted and burning behind his eyelids.

Dean’s hands tighten around the old rod, and he blinks to clear his vision. “Did it to me too,” he murmurs.

John blows out a harsh sigh. He’s silent for a long moment, but for the click in his throat as he swallows. Then he sucks in a short breath and nudges Dean’s shoulder with his own.

“Three days before,” he says, voice low and scratchy. “Before we lost her.” He bumps against Dean again, soft and a little awkward. “It was Halloween... You remember it?”

Dean frowns and squints down at his feet. The days surrounding Mary’s death are strange in his memory - blue-tinted and Gaussian blurred. He doesn’t remember candy or costumes, though.

“We didn’t go trick-or-treating,” he posits.

John shakes his head. “Nope,” he confirms. “Big storm came through. Nothin’ too bad, but. Lot of wind, rain. Lightning.”

Dean winces, peering up at the cerulean sky with squinted eyes.

“Middle of the night,” John goes on, voice soft and a little distant, “there’s a thunderclap so damn loud it- shook the whole house. Car alarms go off outside, Sammy wakes up just wailin’.” He huffs a short laugh, leaning back against the bench. “So Mary goes to the nursery, I go to your room, but...” he pauses briefly, and Dean sees his head tilt in his peripheral vision. “You’re not there.”

Dean frowns down at the reel. He doesn’t remember any of this, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“I check the bathroom, kitchen, whole damn house, but—” John’s voice drops to a thick whisper, “—I can’t find you anywhere.” He swallows loud, and Dean sees his bob drift further out as his hands slacken on the rod. “Sammy’s still cryin’, Mary’s losin’ it, and I’m—” a bitter chuckle, “—‘bout ready to pull my hair out. Then I- I look out the kitchen window and... There you are.”

Dean’s eyes cut to the side, settling on John’s lax, callused hands. John’s voice is airy, a hundred years away when he continues.

“You’re standin’ out in the backyard. Wearin’ your—” a wet laugh that Dean’s never heard from him before, “your little blue onesie. It’s got this- this big ol’ bumblebee printed on the back.” He laughs again, head shaking. “It’s soaked through. You’re soaked through - hair plastered to your head. Barefoot.

“I run out the back door, callin’ your name. Heart’s in my throat, thinkin’ how long you been out here. Cold, alone. Scared. But when- when I get to you... You’re smiling.”

John makes a short, guttural sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. For a moment, Dean forgets all the reasons he didn’t want to see John’s face and finally - finally - looks up at him.

Like nearly everyone else in Heaven, he looks younger than Dean remembers. But Dean barely registers that at all - too struck by the wide, shining eyes flickering over the water, the frown-lined mouth stretched into an unfamiliar shape.

“You’re smiling,” John repeats. He blinks hard, and a few errant tears spill over. Dean tracks them, wide-eyed, as they trail down John’s ruddy cheeks, disappearing into the wisps of his beard.

“Thunder shakin’ the ground,” he murmurs. “Rain comin’ down in sheets. Sky lit up like the Fourth of July, and you’re...” He chews his bottom lip, head tipping back. “You’re lookin’ right up at it,” he laughs. “Little arms out like you’re gonna take off, and...” He grins, so wide it cuts dimples into his cheeks. “And the biggest damn smile... I have ever seen.”

Dean’s vision blurs, going hazy at the edges, and he remembers.

Oh, god, he remembers.

Cold, but not freezing, soaked to his drawers, lightning cracks the tar-black sky in soaring arcs and jagged lines, and for an instant, he sees wings, wings, wings too big for the sky containing them, wings haloed in white-blue, and he throws his arms out to greet them, laughing into the night, acid rain on his tongue—

Dean blows out a shaking breath, eyes flicking sightlessly. “You carried me back inside,” he whispers, and he remembers that, too - John’s rough hands circling his waist, hoisting him up, pressing Dean into his warm, dry chest, strong arms wrapped around his back.

“Yeah,” John whispers back. “We sat by the big window, the four of us.” The bay window, Dean recalls, overlooking the street. The whole block was dark from the power outage; the thunder shook the treetops. “Watched the storm all night long.”

Dean had sat on John’s lap, Sammy tucked into Mom’s arm, all of them huddled together under a threadbare quilt, eyes glued to the flickering sky. Dean had pressed his hand to the window, watching it fog up around his tiny fingers.

“After,” John murmurs, and Dean looks up at him. His hazel eyes are still shining, red-rimmed, tracing over the distant skyline. “When we lost her, I... All I wanted,” his brow drops in a frown, “all I could think about was...” He trails off for a moment, chewing his lip. “Chasin’ that storm.”

Dean sighs, long and deep, like he’s emptying his lungs for the first time. His shoulders sag low, but they feel light, loose like the weight they carried has fallen away.

This - this - is what he didn’t tell Rhonda. What he couldn’t tell Sam. What he barely understood himself.

“Yeah,” Dean says, voice thick in his throat. He peers out at the mountains, and he feels his lips do something funny - a smile and a frown, all at once. “Yeah, me too.”

John is silent for a long, soft moment. The breeze is mild, barely there, the still air keeping the water placid and quiet. The two little bobs in the water float toward one another, drawn together by an inexplicable gravity.

John nudges Dean’s shoulder again, and Dean lets his body sway with the motion.

John sniffs. “Think that’s just who we are, you and me.”

Dean turns to him, meeting his eye for a brief moment. John gives him a tiny half smile, then looks back out over the inlet.

The sky goes a shade darker, a cumulus cloud passing overhead as John whispers, “...Storm chasers.”

chapter five | chapter seven

table of contents

#corinth rains #destiel #deancas #fanfiction #post-canon #slow burn #dean-centric #chapter wc: ~2.4k #TW: JOHN WINCHESTER #if you hate john winchester and dont want to see him in Dean's heaven #skip this chapter #dont come for me #DL;DR

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crime-bot · 5 years ago

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Please Have Literally No Expectations Whatsoever When Reading This Because I Only Put The Fist Things That Came Into My Mind In This

They wanted me to meet great expectations. They didn't expect me to break said expectations by defeating a crocodile with thin air. They didn't even know what was happening before it retreated back into the water after acting like it was hit by a very invisible to the normal human eye and definitely not real ghost-shaped projectile. Perhaps I could be… the next airbender? I think I might be… so far I can change oxygen into nitrogen, so I got air manipulation down.

Oh right, and I also defeated a crocodile with "nothing but thin air". That's not really that important, now that I think about it. I mean… it was pretty easy. All I /REALLY/ had to do was throw my ghost friend at it, and sure, they got absolutely miffed, but at least I'm a town hero now. Now all that's left is to get myself a cool airbender weapon to defeat more gators with. Maybe I'll even be able to fool the nation into believing I'm the air bender MASTER! … Yes, that sounds simple enough!

I walked into the store with my ghost accomplice and slammed my money ($4.20) onto the counter before screaming, "THIS IS A ROBBERY! HAND OVER YOUR FINEST AIR BENDER GEAR AND NO ONE GETS NO MONEY"

The cashier, already done with my shit, pointed towards the clothing section of the Walmart. Ah, yes, I can feel it. My journey to fooling the nation is coming closer. I strode towards the flannels, all hero-like, before grabbing one and tying it around my waist. Hm… it seems nice… but I could do better. I grabbed yet another flannel and tied the sleeves loosely around my neck.

"Oh, that actually looks pretty cool! It's like a cape, but for lumberjacks," exclaimed the ghost accomplice.

"Well then get ready forrrrrrr…" I got a bunch more flannels and put all of them on. I even ripped a few for maximum coolness. "THE FLANNEL-FIGHTER!!!"

Multiple shoppers nearby gave me a weird look, but I didn't care because I was so cool. I went back up to the cashier's desk and asked, "So how much?"

The cashier looked at me with tired, weary eyes, the likes of which have seen countless battles and equally countless tragedies, before answering with a resounding, powerful, "That'll be $4.20."

"YYYYYYYYYES!!!"

I slammed the money back onto the counter and bolted out, my ghost accomplice in tow. Get ready, crocodiles everywhere, for the Flannel-Fighter has arrived to exact false justice.

"So… now what," asked my ghost accomplice as we dined on the riverbank.

"What do you mean?" I responded, popping a forkful of mashed potatoes into my mouth.

"Well," they lightly dabbed their ghost face with a napkin. "Didn't you want to be the 'Air Bender Master'?"

I slammed my hands onto the table, which made the candle between us shake dangerously for a moment. "WHAT-?!" The salmon nearby trembled. "Oh sorry guys. -Waitwaitwait, I /did/"

"Yeah." The ghost plucked a salmon out of the water from their chair and began to stroke its back. "You even paid money for a costume. By the way, cool flannels."

I looked down at myself to see that I was absolutely covered in multiple layers of lumberjack attire.

"Woah…."

"Woah indeed." The salmon in their lap wriggled, and they lifted their ghost hands to let it jump back into the river.

"So, back to the point," They picked up their paper plate of ghost boneless pizza and tossed it into the river for the rats to consume before continuing. "If you want to be the 'Air Bender Master,' you should probably start training. Also, if you don't mind, I'd much prefer that you never throw me at any sort of reptile ever again."

They plucked a crocodile tooth out of their side and winced.

"Yeah… I think it'd be really nice to be the Air Bender Master… but that name's dumb. I want a BETTER title!" I handed them my plate, but they just looked at it in disgust and handed it back to me.

"Oh really?" They shoved the table into the river to clean up. "Then what do you have in mind, 'young grasshopper?'"

I decided to settle on throwing the glass plate into the river and thought. "Hmmmm…. How about….. the AirMaster5000?"

"Eh, that seems like the name of a household appliance. I'm not really a fan of it."

"Then… Mr. Cool."

"Getting colder."

"The Four-Legged Wonder"

"That reminds me of something… what was the name… Aesop's Tables? I think he has a story with that title. We probably shouldn't use it in this story if we don't want to be sued for stealing creative material."

"The Furnace"

"Getting warmer. It's better than the other names you came up with, but didn't you want to be an /Air/ Master?"

"Oh… right. Then maybe… The Fantabulous Air Balloon."

They studied me and squinted for a long while. Who knows what form of divine judgement was taking place within the enigma of their mind. They were wise; wise from years of roaming this bleak world and collecting knowledge from the most knowledgeable of scholars, and I was ready for whatever divine retribution I may experience by their hand.

"That's not actually too bad… afterall, you're always full of hot air."

"YES! Thankyou, ghost!"

"No problem." They went to setting up the water bed, as well as the ghost bed, but paused. "Wait… if you wish to wield air, you must learn to sleep on it."

"I do?"

"You do."

"I have to sleep on air?"

"Yes," a wicked grin began to spread across their face as they obliged, "an air mattress."

The blood drained from my face as I was stuck by their words. An air mattress-? No-! At that time, air mattresses were my worst enemy, and if I knew anything, it was that I did NOT want to sleep with my worst enemy.

"... No…."

"I'm afraid you must." They reached into their plastic shopping bag and pulled out a fully inflated air mattress.

The moment I saw its dastardly face, I yelled with all my fury and might, "YOU-!"

The air mattress, being an inanimate object, did not reply.

"YOU SCALLIWAG! COME HERE AND FIGHT ME LIKE A /REAL/ MATTRESS"

"Alright, stop your yelling and go to bed." They tossed it into the river

"But--" I glared and pointed at the fiend as it floated on the water, held in place by the salmon. "That's my SWORN ENEMY!"

"For now. You must learn to make peace before you learn to fight." They began to leave. "I'll be back in the morning to see your progress."

I watched them leave before turning to look back at the air mattress.

"But… I can't…"

WILL I BE ABLE TO SLEEP WITH MY SWORN ENEMY? IS MY GHOST FRIEND SECRETLY CONSPIRING AGAINST ME BECAUSE I LITERALLY THREW THEM AT A LIVE CROCODILE? WILL IT /EVER/ BE MY TURN WITH THE BRAINCELL? TUNE IN NEXT TIME TO ALL MY INTELLIGENCE HAS GONE WITH THE WIND

#My writing

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mothmansfriend · 4 years ago

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theres just no place in between

Beginning Previous Next AO3 Link

Notes:This one’s even rougher i think, I have had a mixed episode but don’t remember much of it and also my experience was way different from remus because of the kind of life i live, and mixed episodes are hard to diagnose everyone’s very different! Sorry this took so long i had a depressive episode that kinda blacked out my motivation to do anything.

Something is different this time. There’s a ringing in his ear as he screams at Roman, his older brother though only by minutes. The man in front of him is the one he knows he’s only ever been a reflection of, if he cannot break out of the mirror he will contort it. He will make sure that when Roman looks into this mirror he will see everything he could have been if their parents had just picked the other from the beginning. Roman’s voice takes an undercurrent of concern when Remus starts crying uncontrollably, but he’s angry and Roman’s concern makes him even angrier. Remus screams at the image of everything he was supposed to be and says things he doesn’t mean just to make sure that Roman sees him, not the reflection, he’s sick of the reflections. In the back of his mind something reminds him that neither of them are their parents, they aren’t to blame. Remus pretends he doesn’t know that.

Later he stares into the mirror, the lights are bright, too bright they’ve never been so bright. Something has a grip on his shoulders and the invisible hands threaten to close around his throat, he stares into the mirror and sees the bags under his eyes visible due to his lack of eyeshadow and ringing in his ears sounds more and more like screaming. It’s louder than before, his disheveled hair matches his disheveled mustache full of styling wax from days ago. It feels like the light is getting brighter and brighter. D knocks on the bathroom door asking if he’s okay. Remus jerks backwards and the lights are back to normal, the screaming has quieted to a ringing in his ear once again. Remus looks back into his own eyes and tells D he’ll be right out and turns on the sink

This time the burst of energy wasn’t fun. This time sleepless nights in the studio wasn’t an option. This time the energy in his head didn’t say ‘go’ or ‘create’ instead it whispered ‘they don't want you here’ and ‘destroy’ as he whipped in and out of euphoria and devastating anger. It was vague and fast and confusing and Remus finds himself bullying his teammates and going too far. The freshmen tip toe around him, Roman refuses to entertain his antics at all. Payton and Jared decline his invitations and look at him with concern without knowing what to say. He finds Virgil avoiding him and D more often following. Coach Thomas’s tired looks becoming more and more exhausted and frustrated and even Joan lost the hidden amusement of his antics as he was suspended for three games.

Remus also finds himself considering how easy it would be to die more than he has ever before. He has always been curious and graphic about how it could happen, but that was morbid curiosity, not this. He finds the motivation to find bridges tall enough, buildings high enough that he can sneak into, he bought rope and sharpened his knives, ends up with rope burn and covered in cuts and bruises in no time as he convinces friends and teammates that he’s never been better and scares them away in a familiar way.Yet, he has days where he can’t get out of bed and it sounds like someone is shouting at him for being so terrible and lazy now too? Nights where he can’t sleep because of his racing but they all circle back to how little everyone likes him and how easy it has been to push them away. He keeps track of the times where he’s come to realize he doesn’t remember what he's doing or how he arrived, days blend together and suddenly it's almost spring break. It doesn’t make any more sense than it did before. Only now, it scares him a little.

This is their senior year. Remus knows he has less than two months now to graduation but his grades are falling fast and he can’t bring himself to care, or tell anyone. He’s handing in half finished assignments only working when D and Logan can catch him and drag him into whatever classroom they broke into for their study sessions. He gets lost listening to Logan explain a concept to him again, he was offered a fidget toy after he broke his pen when he spaced out that at least prevented more damage, but couldn’t help this irrational irritation that followed. He finishes the assignment that night, but still doesn’t feel even a little proud of himself for it. The guilt of making Logan and D spend almost the whole evening on a little assignment he could’ve done himself lingers as he lays in bed so exhausted, but his veins feel like they're full of buzzing bees, each one begging him to do something, anything, but nothing gives him the satisfaction he needs.

Remus grins for the first time in weeks, filled with complete euphoria as he stands on a bridge staring down at the dark water reflecting the orange and blue sunset, wind in his hair and one of his new friends nervously ask if they’re sure this is safe. There are four people including Remus holding onto the bridge. The woman, probably a year or two younger with scars up her arms and a t-shirt that belongs to a boy she dated years ago yells over the wind that she does this all the time, tell them, she nudges a boy with coloured hair who repeats what she said and climbs over the guard with Remus and the girl who’s name Remus forgets. Remus isn’t worried and stops listening as he begins bouncing in place, the bridge clearly much taller than the ones he’s jumped off of with the team when they go out for the summer, but that fact being exactly what thrills him so much. He vaguely hears the other friend’s concern increase and their refusal to jump. Remus feels his hair whip around in the wind as he dramatically rolls his eyes, “If you wanna be a pussy no one’s stopping you, but you can’t stop us either. Quit whining,” he sneers right before he kicks himself off the bridge. Remus savours the butterflies in his veins as he’s freefalling in the air, these few seconds feel like hours and as he finally plunges into the cold water entirely submerged and he hears as the other two land in the water. His lungs beg for air and he resurfaces just as the pain becomes unbearable and he laughs maniacally until the others resurface and continues to laugh floating in soaked clothing.

It’s spring break and Remus is free. A week without classes and he’s decided to let go and let out these weird moments he’s been having. He bounces on the beat letting the music vibrate through him as he dances with another stranger whose name he never even asked. The beat pumps through the hardwood floor of the frat house Payton brought a few teammates to.

Remus loses track of time and knows it when his current dance partner dragged him into the bathroom where a few people were crushing pills in a ziploc bag on the bathroom counter. Remus has a half baked conversation with someone who barely replies while his dance partner starts lining up the now crushed substance Remus misses the name of several times. Once one rows gone Remus is shoved forward and listens to the little advice someone gives him that he’s too drunk to listen too, feeling so invincible, so happy, so free Remus has a lazy grin on his face as he agrees moments before Payton rushes in calling Remus’s name. His expression changes to something angry but also so confused as he grabs Remus’s shoulder forcing him to turn towards him as he demands to know “What the fuck are you doing!?” Remus laughs at Payton telling him to stop overreacting as Payton reminds Remus that more random drug tests are pretty likely as the season comes to an end. The argument continues as Payton’s shift from anger to concern goes unnoticed by Remus.

There’s blood dripping from his nose to the cement floor of someone’s shitty basement suite. It’s almost rhythmic, he is sitting leaning on a couch he’s never seen before, or maybe he has as he tries to focus his eyes. There’s a shattered window with plastic bags taped over it that lets the cool air float over him making him aware of something wet dripping from his hairline, Remus lifts his head up wobbling a little as he wipes his nose with the back of his hand which comes off bloody and does the same with his forehead that reveals more blood. His head feels so foggy and he wonders if he let himself lose the fight or if someone jumped him. He knows what hockey has done for him physically and doubts some scrawny white twink with a nicotine addiction among others could actually take him down. He looks around and sees people asleep across the floor in various states and aesthetics of dress, half-dried blood splatters on the floor on the other side of the door implies that it was probably a fight that didn’t happen long ago. No clue what time it is, he stands and stumbles realizing that he is not only super drunk but clearly on something else he doesn’t remember making the decision to take. Remus pats his pockets down using the shitty yellow lamp without a shade on it to double check and finding his wallet and his phone with a 7% charge. Remus sees his reflection in a shattered mirror on the floor and feels like he hasn’t seen himself in months. For a moment he remembers watching Roman waste away, remembers the doctor’s appointments, the effort it took to force Roman to eat but the way he came out healthier in the end. This shattered reflection shows him something he doesn’t like, and he makes a decision.

#hockey au #university au #bipolar remus #creativitwins #remus angst #creativitwins angst #sanders sides #sanders sides angst #angst #bipolar disorder #drug use #alcohol use #self harm #my fic

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byeoltoyuki · 6 years ago

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Head in the Clouds ⇾pjm

⇨ Since I’ve lost everything I’m reposting...

↳Pairing : You x Jimin

Genre : Fluff / Slight Angst

Words: +9k

Warnings: PG... but nakedness is mentioned!

Author: My lovely Yuna

Summary : It’s the summer and you did not expect your holidays to be interrupted by the unexpected arrival of a man living in the clouds.

'A cloud does not know why it moves in just such a direction and at such a speed. It feels an impulsion, this is the place to go now. But the sky knows the reasons and the patterns behind all clouds, and you will know, too, when you lift yourself high enough to see beyond horizons.'

Richard Bach

It was the peak of summer and you were enjoying every minute of your holidays: the hot blazing sun warming up your skin, the sound of the sea that you could hear from your hotel room. But mostly, you enjoyed the peace and quiet of a solo holiday. You could have gone with someone, originally you had plans to go with your best friend, but you did not manage to coordinate your calendars so you did not push it and went by yourself. You had never done that before and although you were worried loneliness would get the best of you, you found it really relaxing and peaceful. But boring. GOD you were bored!

The biggest advantage of being on your own was the freedom you had in doing whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. And that’s how you would eat lunch very late in the afternoon or stay in your bed longer than acceptable when you have spent money to be in another country for the holidays.

Right now you were on the beach, sitting on your towel, observing the sea. Nothing unusual, except it was about one o’clock in the morning and raining heavily. You had a thing for thunderstorms and your favourite ones were the ones happening at sea, where you could see the flashes of lightning on the horizon. You loved the low rumbling sound they were making, and the intensity was usually stronger then. Typically, this was something you probably would have not done if you had been with a friend, or anybody that you knew really, not a lot of people like to stay in the cold and get wet just to watch lightning strikes.

You came prepared with your raincoat over a warm jumper, your beach towel to sit on, the plastic bag to put your shoes in and the large parasol trapped between your legs to protect yourself from the rain. You had your feet buried in the sand, still slightly warm from a hot day in the sun. The whole reason storms were happening really: warm ground, cold sky and wind in-between. Simple science.

You looked away from the horizon to observe the clouds above your head, you could barely see anything in the darkness of the night, but whenever there was a flash of lightning, it was illuminating for a brief second the thick cover of clouds covering the sky, which were pouring thousands of litres on their heads.

Another flash appeared and you started counting the seconds in your head, it was something you always did as a kid, your parents told that you could calculate how far the storm really was by counting the seconds separating the light from the rumbling sound. You could not actually remember what the formula for it was, you never were good at maths, but it was a habit you did not lose.

Another flash revealed an enormous cloud that caught your attention and brought back another fond memory of your childhood. You used to imagine on car rides that the giant clouds you could see in the sky were actually buildings for people living there. This one was the town hall, this series of smaller clouds was a street of houses… You giggled at the memory and decided the big raincloud you just spotted was a massive skyscraper.

The rumbling sound from the previous lightning was finally perceptible and you realised it was not that long ago that it flashed. A sudden gust of wind nearly took your parasol away and you decided that maybe, it was time to go. The weather seemed to deteriorate rapidly so you got up on your knees, put the handle of the plastic bag around your wrist and undertook to close the parasol.

You had just managed to tie the string around it when a really bright and loud lightning strike surprised you and made you jump. You could have sworn that one did not land far from you. You got up and grabbed your towel in your hand, putting the parasol under your arm to bring it back to the place all the others were stored and turned your back to the sea to make your way out of the beach. You only walked a few metres when you thought you heard something and stopped. You wondered if you misheard the violent wind for something else and when you did not hear anything else for a few more seconds, you decided to carry on.

But the noise happened again, and this time you were pretty confident you heard a voice. You turned around to scan your surroundings, looking for the silhouette of a person on the beach, but you saw nothing.

“Over here!”

This time you were absolutely sure you heard a male’s voice calling you. You dropped the parasol on the floor and took a few steps back towards the water, scrutinizing the area. It was so dark you really struggled to see anything but eventually, you distinguished the shape of a body on the waterfront. It was a man and it seemed as if he was dragging himself away from the rough sea. Realising the emergency of the situation, you ran towards him and you reached him, you grabbed his arm to drag him away from the water. You stopped when you deemed the distance between the both of you and the sea to be enough, you let go of his hand and focused on the man you just saved.

Only to realise he was fully naked.

“What the hell?!” You brought your hand in front of your eyes. “Why are you naked? Are you okay?” you finally asked.

The man had his face in the sand and you could see him breathing heavily, probably trying to catch his breath after the effort he must have made to swim back to the beach. You decided to run back to the spot you had dropped all your stuff and grabbed your bag with your shoes and your towel before returning to the man who was now pushing on his arms to raise himself up. The man lifted his head and his eyes met with a towel right in front of his nose.

“Please, I beg you, put that around you.” You asked and the man complied with your request. You finally turned your eyes to him and realised he was shivering cold and his lips were blue. You removed your raincoat, and proceeded to remove your jumper underneath to give it to him.

“Th… Thank you.” He managed to say with a trembling voice.

A thousand questions were popping in your head. What was he doing here? Why did he not have any clothes on? Did he have somewhere to go? Another lightning struck not far from the both of you and you decided to ask these later and focus at the current problem at hand: getting the man and yourself out of the poor weather.

"Can you walk?" you asked.

The man nodded and you started walking away towards the end of the beach, at some point you turned to check if the man was following you and you realised he was struggling to walk because of exhaustion. You reached back to him and grabbed his arm to support him.

You tried to ignore the curious look that the staff working at reception gave you when she saw two people absolutely soaked, with a man that was not even wearing shoes. You helped him to get into the elevator with you and guided him to your room, before finally making him sit on the sofa.

"I'm going to get you something to dry yourself with and a hot drink, try and rest for now." You told him before leaving the room.

When you came back, you found him fighting to stay awake, shaking his head to make sure he would not fall asleep. You sat next to him on the sofa and handed him a dry towel after placing two steaming mugs on the coffee table.

"There you go. It's okay you can stay here tonight, just make sure you dry yourself before falling asleep, otherwise you are going to catch death. What's your name?" you asked.

The man turned his eyes hesitantly to you and you realised it was the first time he looked at you properly. You stared into his eyes and your heart missed a beat. Now that you were not in a rush of getting out of the rain, you had the time to observe the young man in front of you. And he was breath-taking. He had the most perfect face and body you had ever seen, his hair was outstanding with their pale colour and the light pink undertone, it reminded you of the colour of clouds in the morning when the sun is rising. He had the most adorable cheeks and you were sure to feel the need to pinch them between your fingers if he started smiling. But what was the most incredible with this man's appearance was his eyes and you were lost in them, they were a dark grey like you had never seen on a person before. If anything it reminded you of the weather outside.

"Jimin." the man's voice pulled you out of your thoughts and made you jump.

"What?"

"My name." He repeated with an amused, yet shy smile. "I am Jimin."

"Oh right, sorry. I was distracted for a moment here." You admitted. "I am Y/N. Are you feeling better? How did you end up in the sea?"

"I fell from the clouds."

"Pardon?"

"I was looking down on Earth and a lightning got me by surprise so I fell on Earth. I am sorry I was naked in front of you, I had clothes up home but I guess they evaporated with my fall." He explained further. Your face was frozen, utterly confused.

"I am sorry but... You make no sense." You declared. "Are you okay? Did you hit your head on something?" You got up and took the liberty to inspect Jimin's head, tousling his hair with your fingers.

All of a sudden, you found yourself floating in front of the man in what seemed to be a very small version of a cloud. You lost your balance and landed on it, feeling your bum getting instantly wet. Jimin had his eyes closed and was frowning intensely with concentration until finally you landed back on the sofa and the cloud disappeared in thin air. The young man opened his eyes and was panting heavily, a thin veil of sweat covering his forehead.

"I apologise, I should have started with that... Humans are not aware of our existence, although children sort of guess it before they grow up and put it on their imagination. I am part of the Sky People, I live in the clouds. What I just showed you was a cloud I created with the ambient humidity of the room. Unfortunately, I could not keep it up for longer because I am really weak but I hope you will believe me..."

Saying you were speechless would be an understatement, you were so surprised you thought you were going to pass out. When Jimin started looking worried for you, you shook your head and forced yourself to say something:

"So... You fell...". There was no point in denying what you saw. Luckily you were an open-minded person, you never rejected the ideas of aliens, magic, ghosts or whatever, but still, witnessing something like that caught you by surprise.

"Yes, I was observing... er... the beach you were on." Jimin blushed slightly. "And then there was that massive lightning that hit me and projected me to the ground, well actually, the sea. That's why I was in the water when you heard me, I was trying my best to swim my way back to the beach. Which was difficult, I never swam before, I sort of float with water particles, so I used my abilities to manipulate water to bring me to solid ground but it absolutely drained all my energy..."

After Jimin's explanation, you stayed still for a few seconds before suddenly leaning forward and grabbing your head between your hands, trying to process the crazy revelations. You could feel a headache starting and next thing you know, you find a gentle hand rubbing your back up and down.

"I am sorry to surprise you like that..." Jimin apologized sincerely. "But keep your mind and heart opened, I have heard your thoughts before falling, that is what attracted me to the beach. You believed in buildings in the Sky among the clouds as a child... And hearing an adult voicing these thoughts is so rare, I could not resist the curiosity."

You raised your eyes and looked into his, now you understood the impression you had earlier.

"Your eyes are the colour of clouds during a storm..." You whispered.

Jimin smiled and as expected, you repressed an urge to touch his cheeks.

"I am not human, and I am not a cloud. I am something in between. I guess my eyes would reflect the weather as it currently is." He explained.

You straightened yourself on the sofa and asked him:

"Right. So you fell. How are you going to get back up in the sky? You look exhausted."

"As long as there are clouds in the sky, all I need is a decent amount of humidity in the air to get me back up there. But yes, I have used all my energy earlier, I won't be able to do it until I have rested for a bit. I mean I could not even lift you for more than a few seconds and it is pouring with rain outside..."

"Okay then, you can stay here for the night and rest. You can leave whenever you feel like you have enough powers again." You decided and Jimin smiled at you brightly at the announcement. His smile was so beautiful it blinded you. You tried to push the thought away when a pair of arms embraced you.

"Thank you Y/N! I cannot be grateful enough for your help."

Stunned, you did not move at all while the man was hugging you, your heart was beating loudly in your chest, probably because of the surprise he gave you, and you were hoping he would not hear it, cos that's just weird. Eventually, you cleared your throat and Jimin released you from his hold. You got up and disappeared in your room before coming back with a bathrobe. You handed it to Jimin.

"Take that, I am afraid I don't have any clothes that would fit you, so the hotel's bathrobe will have to do. Feel free to use the bathroom and take a shower to warm yourself up. I'll see you in the morning."

And with that, you disappeared in your bedroom, closing the door behind yourself. You held your hand on your heart, trying to calm down your breathing.

***

When you woke up in the morning, a glorious sunshine and clear blue sky greeted you. You wondered for a second if you had dreamt the events of the previous night but as soon as you stepped out of the bedroom, you found a sleeping man with pink hair floating on a cloud in the living room. Then you realised there were no clouds in the sky, Jimin was probably not going to be able to live since he said there had to be clouds for him to go back home. It got you worried for a moment, you were in the middle of summer and rain was a rare thing at this time of the year apart from the occasional storm when it gets too hot, which is what happened the day before. But how long until it rained again? Jimin clearly had energy again, he was sleeping on his own little cloud, probably made with the water he could find through the bathroom taps, but it was useless unless the weather cooled down.

Since he was probably going to be around for a bit, you decided he could not possibly live with just a bathrobe so you left the hotel as discreetly as possible and went in the town center to buy a few clothes for him. When you came back in your room, Jimin was nowhere to be found, but a quick search revealed he was in the bathtub, looking absolutely depressed, a rain cloud over his head that drenched him in water. When he noticed you, relief flushed his face and he jumped out of the bathtub to meet you. You could not help but feel touched seeing his reaction towards your presence but didn't say anything, instead you brought something else to his attention:

"Er... Jimin? Could you make it stop raining in the bathroom? It is getting seriously wet in here..."

The man turned and realised his mistake instantly, he taped the cloud with his hand which evaporated and you witnessed the water being absorbed by Jimin's body. He looked back at you with a smile and declared:

"When I woke up and you weren't there, I thought you had left forever so it made me sad, and when I tried to leave myself and couldn't because of the weather, I just got downright depressed. I am sorry I got your bathroom wet..." he apologised with the most adorable puppy face you had ever witness from someone.

You slapped yourself mentally and handed him the bag with the clothes you bought him. Jimin took it hesitantly, not knowing what to expect and took out a tee-shirt from the bag. His face lightened up instantly.

"Are these for me?!"

His eyes were opened wide and you lost yourself in the ocean blue tint they were showing today. You nodded with a smile, explaining that, since he might be there for a while given the fact it was the summertime, he could not possibly live with a bathrobe. A second later, you found yourself imprisoned in his arms again in a tight hug, you patted his back awkwardly only to realise the bathrobe was soaking wet.

"Oh sorry about that. I did not realise human clothes absorb water since I never wore any before. Funny story actually, this is how I woke up this morning! I was sleeping on my cloud as usual but the bathrobe was absorbing the water from it and eventually, it was so heavy with water and my cloud became so thin that I crashed on the floor!"

Jimin's smile was so bright and he looked so amused that you could not help but giggle at the thought of him crash landing on the floor and waking up that way. It made the man secretly happy to see that he managed to make you laugh and you were warming up to him.

***

You spent that day on the seaside, getting to know each other. It started when Jimin's stomach started grumbling and you realised he had not eaten since the day before, so you took him out for lunch. You got some sandwiches, nibbles and drinks from the nearby shop and sat on some large rocks next to the sea to eat.

Jimin's excitement was contagious, he could not stop expressing his joy to be able to try Earth's food and explained to you all the ways it differed to his way of living in the sky.

"So really, we are never hungry, all we do is drink the surrounding water, I think that if we were to eat that type of food, we would be so heavy we could not stay up in the clouds!"

"No need for violent lightning strikes to make you crash on Earth then!" You joked.

"Exactly! And the clothes, I love the way it is so smooth against the skin. I wish I could take them up with me when I go home, but again, it will get heavy and..."

"You will pay me another visit!" You finished.

You spent the next few hours like this, mostly talking about the different types of food you could find on Earth, it was a fascinating topic for Jimin and he could never ask enough questions to you about it. At some point, the topic shifted to how life was in the clouds for him and so he told you about his friends and family, what he was doing during the day...

"... So yeah, I guess nothing is ever the same every day. The place I live in changes constantly since we move alongside the motions of the wind. I have seen the whole world like this, every continent. We love observing humans, particularly children since they are so open-minded, sometimes a few of our people go down to meet them, but they grow up too quickly so they are forced to come back in the sky."

You were listening to every one of his stories with a fascination and a curiosity you did not feel since you were a child. Jimin had told you there was some truth in what you were imagining when you thought a cloud was a castle, or another one a large valley for the people living in the clouds to walk in and dance. You were admiring his features when he was speaking; he was truly beautiful with his pearly skin that was shimmering slightly, his pink lips that kept stretching into a smile. Smile that kept making your heart skip a beat. It was really incredible the effect that this man had on you in just under 24 hours, there was definitely something magic to his presence, and you had the underlying feeling that the longer he'd stay with you, the more attached to him you would grow.

***

After the sun had gone down, you both went back to your hotel room and this time, knowing Jimin would be around for a while, you set up the sofa properly as a comfortable bed with a couple of pillows and a blanket. You had categorically refused when the man said he would rather sleep on his cloud like he was used to, but when you reminded him that his clothes would still absorb the water of the cloud and make him fall, he just responded he would not wear any. So you made a point at ensuring he was so comfortable he would not be tempted to go back to his habits.

You were fast asleep when something cold and soft brushed your cheek gently. You opened your eyes softly to find Jimin above you, staring at you next to your bed. You were usually the kind of person to jump scare at anything, but this had not been one of those times.

“Hey… Sorry to wake you but… The temperature has dropped a lot since it is night time and I thought you might like what I want to show you.”

You sat up in your bed, your mind still foggy with sleep. Jimin handed you your jacket and you got up to follow him. He led you to the beach you met on the previous night and you were starting to wonder what he was going to do. Could he be heading home already? You felt a pinch on your heart that you voluntarily ignored but you could not shake the disappointment. You only just met him and he was going already. You looked up in the sky and searched for the presence of clouds, but could not see any.

Jimin had been looking at you from the corner of his eyes; he still could not believe his luck to be here with you. He had not found the courage to tell you yet of the real reason he fell from the sky the night before. He took advantage of the fact you seemed lost in your thoughts to detail your features: your soft face, the way you were scrunching up your nose as you probably thought of something unpleasant… But what he liked most of all were your eyes and the way they sparkled when he told you one of his stories of the life in the clouds… He had caught you a few times today staring at him but every time he turned his face to look at you, you were shifting your eyes in the other direction, pretending to look somewhere else.

"It was too hot earlier so I couldn't use my powers since I deal with evaporated water. But now that it has cooled down..."

You watched the man removing his shoes and taking a step into the sea, he turned over to face you and you smiled at each other. His eyes sparkled and you wondered what he was about to do. Then he raised his arms, palms facing the sky and as he lifted them, two columns made with the tiniest droplets of water, formed themselves next to him. The sight was beautiful and the moonlight was softly reflecting in the water. You opened your mouth in awe and took a step forward, as if you wanted to touch the phenomenon, but you suddenly stopped and looked around you. You were out in the open and worried someone might see this, it was dark and you were alone on the beach but it was still located in the middle of a busy town.

“You should probably stop there Jimin… I will find a spot for you to show me your magic, it is so beautiful.”

Jimin opened his hands and the water columns all spread out and started spinning around you, trapping you into a thin bubble. You were mesmerized at the sight and forgot your worries for a moment. The bubble then opened slightly to let another body join and closed again once Jimin was inside. He was staring straight into your eyes with an intense look and when your heart jumped and you gasped for air as you forgot to breathe, you decided to pay more attention to the phenomenon around you. You lifted a hand a poked a finger at the bubble, observing the water flowing around it. You let the other fingers touch the spinning droplets too and smiled at the tickling feeling this was leaving on you.

Slowly, another hand joined next to yours and let the droplets caress the skin, you turned your face to see that Jimin was still staring at you, but he had the gentle smile of someone happy to share a moment with another person. You both turned your eyes away to look again at the hands and the next second, Jimin interlaced his fingers with yours and your heart just started beating in your chest like crazy. You felt your cheeks burning up and tried very hard not to look at him as you could feel his eyes on you once again.

***

It had now been a few days Jimin was trapped on Earth until the weather became more prone to clouds, and there were no signs of the situation changing anytime soon. You took the habit every evening to watch the TV on the sofa with him, before you leave for your own bed when you feel yourself dozing off. Once, Jimin even fell asleep on your shoulder and you only noticed it when the film you were watching started being really quiet and you heard a soft snore straight into your ear.

The man had finally given up on trying to sleep on his cloud after you caught him twice fully naked. He had tried to argue by saying he would make his ‘cloud clothes’ a bit more dense (like they should be when he is in the sky really), but you tried to explain that clearly, it was slowly evaporating the moment the sun was rising. Which always ended up in nudity. He was now enjoying the comfort of the sofa, especially now that you had asked the hotel for more pillows and blankets.

The days were spent chatting with each other, eating some good food, and regularly taking a swim in the see as Jimin found the weather a bit too dry for his own comfort. You really enjoyed his presence with you. You could have been annoyed that someone barged into your first 'alone' vacations, but somehow, Jimin did not make you feel that way. He was incredibly easy to live with, and you were constantly having a smile on your face. He was a ray of sunshine in your life, which is ironic considering he is living in the clouds, which usually tend to hide the sun.

"So what did you say you call this ice cream?" Jimin asked you, lifting the goblet in front of his eyes and admiring the bright blue colour of the beverage.

"It is called a slushy, it is basically shaved ice, sugar and colorant. Kids love that and I have a feeling you will to."

"Cos I am such a sweet person?" he asked with a grin on his face.

He had started to tease you a lot more recently and you took it as he was probably getting more comfortable with you. Ever since the two of you got really close on the beach, something had changed ever so slightly. You didn't know if it was just in your mind or if both your behaviours had changed towards the other... But there was no point in denying that you started developing feelings for the man that were more than just friendship. You cared for his well-being and happiness, and you kept feeling your heart jumping whenever he returned the attention to you. His hand on yours when you were holding your own slushy dragged you out of your thoughts. You just had the time to see his head lowering onto the straw pocking out of your goblet as he took a long sip.

"I prefer your red slushy Y/N." he blinded you with his sensational smile and took another sip of your ice cream without asking.

He really was comfortable with you.

"Oh I'm sorry. Do you want me to stop? Do you want to take a few sips of mine?" he offered, taking you stumped face for disappointment about him stealing your drink.

"No no! It is absolutely fine! Sorry I was completely lost in my thoughts. Here, take mine if you prefer it, I don't mind either." you handed him your goblet but he did not take it.

"I don't want to take it." He lowered his eyes and you could have sworn he was blushing slightly. "I prefer it when we share."

Now it was your time to blush. The last couple of days, he had kept dropping phrases like these, making your heart furiously beat in your chest. You felt the heat flushing up your cheeks and the instant reflex you had to hide your embarrassment was to throw yourself onto his own straw and take a long sip. When you realised what you just did, it took you a lot of courage to look back up to him, but you were faced with the happiest face in the world, full of affection. And your heart melted in fondness.

***

About a week and a half after Jimin literally stormed in your life, you got into a comfortable routine with the man, but at the same time, not two days looked the same. During the daytime, if the heat was bearable for him, you would explore the surroundings together. You luckily had chosen a great holiday location in border of the sea and between mountains, so you were not lacking options. One day you would have a look around the neighbouring cities, the next you would do a hike in one of the mountains, some of them even had hidden historical buildings to visit. Sometimes you would just take a stroll at the seaside or lay on the beach for a few hours. You generally chose not to do the last option as you found Jimin's bare chest extremely attractive and therefore distracting. And also he was not dealing with the heat too well so that was a good excuse.

Today you were climbing the highest mountain of the area. As usual, Jimin was a sweetheart and took on the mission to hold everything he could so you would not have to, although you were absolutely fine with having your own bag. He was checking on you every ten minutes, offering you his hand when there was a steep rock to climb, and made his water bottle available to you whenever he felt like you could be thirsty. Sometimes, he would use his powers to make you both float in order to reach a more difficult area without effort. In these moments, he would grab your hand and pull you in his arms before you felt being lifted up in the air. You loved every time he was doing that, finding the comfort of his arms incomparable.

When you finally reached the top, you found a nice shaded area under a tree and set up a thin blanket to sit on underneath. It was on the edge of the mountain so you could see very far down the mountain. You both leaned against the tree, next to each other, and you took a sip of your water, offering your bottle to share afterwards. Jimin gladly accepted it and after quenching his thirst, he decided to lie his head down on your lap and closed his eyes as if he was about to take a nap. You were surprised for half a second, Jimin's clinginess was starting to become a habit to you and if at first you were uncomfortable with it, you were now craving it and embracing all the moments he was willing to be close to you. But the sword of Damocles was hanging above your heads and the thought that he could be gone tomorrow was constantly in the back of your mind.

Jimin is the funniest, warmest, caring individual you have ever met and you were struggling to believe how lucky you got to meet him. Selfishly, you wanted him to stay with you, but you knew he belonged in the sky so you kept it for yourself.

“If I climb a mountain high enough to be above the clouds, will I be able to meet you?”

The sound of your voice surprised the man lying on your lap and he opened his eyes to look at you. You were admiring the horizon and it reminded you of the few occasions you were high enough on a mountain to be above the clouds. You shared that thought with him, to make him understand why the sudden question, and he responded with a hint of sadness:

"I would be able to see you, but you wouldn't... I don't appear in my human forms when I am in the clouds, or at least I am not visible to the human eyes...".

Understanding where he was coming from, you let your thoughts wander.

"Is that the way you see the world? Everything looks so small from here. It is so beautiful; it must feel so incredible to see everything that happens on Earth! There is so much to look at."

Jimin took a second to think about it and for a minute he got distracted since you started stroking his hair and it felt amazing. Eventually he remembered you asked him a question and tried to respond to the best of his abilities. It was quite difficult for him to phrase exactly what he felt, looking above the world:

"It is an incredible feeling yes, but it is so very lonely..." He let that thought sink in for a second before continuing. "There are not a lot of us and we are so spread out throughout the world that we do not get to meet each other often."

He stopped and seemed to be debating on whether or not he should be carrying on opening up to you about it. But eventually he concluded:

"Our species tend to observe the humans a lot for that reason. But when I heard you for the first time, you were already an adult and you caught my attention. I could not stop looking at you..."

You turned red when you understood the implications of Jimin's revelations. He had been observing you for a while. Could it be why he seemed to know you so well? You came to the decision of not investigating it any further. You were getting attached to him enough as it was.

***

One evening, you and Jimin were watching a film as usual on the sofa. You had ordered takeaway food for dinner and the leftovers were still sitting on the coffee table in front of you. You were sitting on the floor, your back leaning against the man's legs. You were comfortably wrapped in a blanket that usually served as bed sheets for Jimin's 'bed' and halfway through the film, Jimin started whining to you.

"Y/N... I'm cold..."

"There is another blanket behind you Jiminnie." you told him, using his new nickname by the same occasion.

The man twisted on his seat and found the object you told him of. He grabbed it and opened it on his legs. You heard him sighing heavily and settling down after a few minutes but then, moments later, he became agitated again and suddenly your back lost the support of his legs as he retreated them when he decided to lie down on the sofa instead.

"Are you going to try and sleep now?" you asked him, a bit confused.

Jimin shivered and stared at you intensely, a hesitating look in his eyes. But then, a newly found resolve seemed to appear and he opened his arm up with the blanket like an invitation to join him said:

"I can't get any warmer. Lend me your body heat Y/N."

Stumped, you giggled.

"That sounds like an excuse for cuddles Jimin, I know what you're like."

"Fine. It is an excuse." He admitted too quickly. "Can you come in my arms? I want to hold you."

You turned around to look at him and was surprised to see a pink blush tinting his adorable cheeks. A small smile appeared on your lips and you resisted the growing temptation to tease him with difficulties. Finally, after what seemed like forever to Jimin, you got up from the floor and joined him on the sofa, propping yourself against his body. Instantly, he closed his arm around yours in an embrace and snuggled his head in the crook of your neck. You could feel his steady breathing against yours and felt at peace straight away. Being in his arms was the best feeling ever and Jimin was thinking exactly the same at this point, regretting he did not ask before.

You fell asleep in each other's arms that night and woke up very late in the morning. Neither of you knew that you had both woken up at some point in the morning, but because you were both so comfortable in the other's embrace, you did not dare move in the fear of waking them up. So you stayed still and fell back asleep.

After that, it naturally became a second nature to snuggle up in Jimin's arms instantly whenever the two of you would be sitting comfortably. None of you said it out loud, but you were both feeling so much happier now that you were significantly closer. There was a frustration you felt in keeping your emotions for you since you were too scared to do anything about them, Jimin was going to leave and it was crazy enough to think that he could share the same feelings as you when you were both from very different places.

Until one night, after you had left the sofa to fall asleep on your own bed, you got woken up in the middle of the night by Jimin discreetly trying to enter your bed. You don't know why you didn't show him you were awake, but it made you smile to see how delicate he was trying to be. You waited a short moment, curious to see how he was going to try and sneak his arm under your head, but eventually you gave up pretending you were still asleep, deciding it was torture for him. You lifted your head and curled up in his arms, entangling your legs with his, trying to be as close to him as possible. You buried your head in his chest, fighting the sudden need you had to lift your lips to his and kiss him. Instead, you focused all your energy on listening to his beating heart. However, Jimin did not look like he wanted to hold himself back and, as he had his arms around you, he started caressing the top of your hair gently, placing soft kisses on top of your forehead. Your heart was beating like crazy and if Jimin had carried on doing this, you doubted you could have stopped yourself from confessing to him.

You were not sure how long had passed until you woke up again, but it was still dark in your bedroom and you could barely discern Jimin's figure next to the window, looking outside. Then a flash of light and a rumbling sound surprised you and your heart sunk instantly. Jimin turned around and noticed you were awake.

"It's raining." He told you, simply.

And you both knew what it meant.

***

You were both standing on the beach you first met on, rain was pouring from the sky and unlike two weeks ago, you did not take an umbrella to look at the storm. Instead you accepted your fate of getting soaked and within minutes, that is exactly how you were. Jimin had not bothered getting dressed at all, eventually, he would need to lose all of the clothes he was wearing or he would never manage to fly back into the clouds.

The wind was blowing very strongly and you raised your arm to protect your face from the rain. Jimin was looking up to the sky, observing the dark clouds covering it and when a lightning fell nearby, you swore you saw him speak to something. There was nothing visible so you guessed that he might be able to see his friends or family and speak to them from where he was. You felt a lump in your throat, realising this was definitely the end, Jimin was going back home, and you would never see him again. Part of you regretted you did not tell him about how you felt, but the other part decided it was for the best.

Jimin, on the other hand, was internally debating on what to do next. He had no choice but leaving now, it had been a bit more than two weeks since he arrived and he had never spent that much time away from the clouds. He could feel his energy and powers getting weaker day by day so he could not take a chance of staying another two weeks in the blazing sun. But he did not want to get away from you, although he never told you explicitly about his feelings for you, it was impossible that you did not notice his affection for you. And gradually you responded to his affection but you were never the one to take the first step in getting closer to him. Jimin was scared he was misreading the signs and did not want to compromise your relationship. However, as to prove him wrong, you surprised him when you appeared next to him and grabbed his hand in yours.

"You should not wait any longer." you spoke so quietly Jimin barely heard you.

His heart sank at those words, were you encouraging him to leave? He turned his eyes to you only to see your face hidden behind a curtain of hair. A second later, he got rid of all his clothes and was floating in the air. The bottom half of his body had already turned back into millions of droplets of water and he summoned all the courage he could to grab both your hands into his.

"Y/N..."

He raised one hand to push away the hair that was hiding your face to him and discovered that you were now in tears. It would have been impossible for anybody to differentiate the rain from the tears on your cheeks, but he could tell. Water was his thing. His heart clenched when he realised you were just as hurt as him, but you were trying very hard to hide it. He cupped your face in both his hands and rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs to wipe away the tears. You looked up and saw a small smile stretching his lips, the tears he had just wiped away started floating and gravitating around the both of you.

Jimin approached even closer to you until you felt his chest pressing against yours, you had never been that close to each other facing this way and even the wind was struggling to get in between. You raised your arms and wrapped them around his body, you could feel the sleeves of your jumper getting wetter with the condensation of water where Jimin's legs should have been. A gust of wind surprised the two of you and you felt the man slipping in your arms slightly. He was getting closer to be a cloud since the wind was getting control of his moves again. Jimin had spent a lot of time in the last two weeks explaining how he visited the world but had no control over where he was going since it was the wind's choice. You held him tighter, eager to keep him with you just a little bit longer and when Jimin noticed it, he threw away all the caution he was trying to keep and decided to just go for it.

He cupped your face into his right hand while the left one was getting tangled with the hair on the back of your neck. He stared at you right in the eyes and you felt your face burning, surprised at the unexpected move from the man. He had been getting closer to you everyday but he had never breached the line you both unconsciously drew. He was now so close to you that you could feel his breathing against your lips and it sent shivers down your spine.

"Y/N... I was not planning on telling you at all since I was never sure on how felt. But these tears have confirmed a great deal... It was not a coincidence that I fell on Earth where you were. I heard your voice resonating in the sky that night and got curious about it, and when I saw you, I fell instantly for you. And I don't mean a physical fall because we both know that happened anyway... But my feelings. I mean..."

Jimin was getting mixed up in his explanations and you could not help but let a small giggle escape your lips. He smiled back and continued:

"My point is, I was looking at you from the sky and leaned too far so I got hit by a lightning bolt. And it was the best thing that could ever happen."

Your heart seemed like it was about to explode and finally, you leaned towards him to meet his lips and his eyes opened wide when he felt them brush against his. But as you had never been so close to kiss, another strong gust of wind blew and you felt his body disappear between your fingers.

You opened your eyes, and saw that he was gone.

***

Several months flew by and before you knew it, the leaves had started to fall of the trees, decorating the horizon with rich shades of red, orange and yellow. Your holidays finished a few days after Jimin disappeared and once you got back home, you threw yourself back into the routine of work and your normal life.

Jimin was never far in your thoughts, unlike your holiday location, the place you lived was a lot colder and therefore, you had clouds nearly every day, especially now that winter was approaching. You could not help but wonder if Jimin was watching over you from there and hoping a storm would happen to precipitate him down on Earth. Once, you took a couple of days off to travel to the closest mountain to where you lived and climbed so high you ended up above the clouds. You enjoyed the scenery as you thought this was the kind of view Jimin was observing every day. That day, you spent a lot of time speaking in the air, hoping your words would reach the clouds, and hopefully the man of your thoughts.

Today you had decided to keep yourself busy and went on a hike to the nearest forest so you could take pictures of the beautiful colours of the trees during this season. This forest was one of your favourite to go to since it had a stream running through it. You were dressed warmly since the weather was pretty wet with a pair of boots and a warm fluffy raincoat. You took photos for three hours until you decided you should be going shortly as the weather was threatening. You started packing your stuff when a drop of rain fell onto your hand, followed by another one. The following minute, you were running as fast as you possibly could, considering the trees' roots sticking out of the ground and tried to find shelter.

You spotted a hut on the other side of the river and ran along until you found a bridge that you crossed with no hesitation. When you finally reached your goal, you removed your hood from your face and took a minute to catch your breath. The rain was pouring heavily on top of the roof and it was so loud that you thought you imagined the sudden loud splashing sound coming from the outside. You peaked your head out of the shelter to have a quick look at your surroundings but saw nothing, so you retreated back into your shelter.

That's when you heard a voice, or at least you thought you did. The sound of the rain was absolutely deafening and you pushed your doubt away, you must have definitely imagined it.

"Y/N I SWEAR MY BUTT IS FREEZING."

Now there was no doubt anymore.

That was Jimin's voice, you were sure of it. Without further debate, you ran outside and scanned the area, searching for the man you missed for so many months.

"Over here!" He called you when he realised you could not see him.

You turned around and finally spotted the man down the riverside. He was trying to hide behind a bush but was still attempting to make himself visible so you would see him. Both your face and his lit up when you saw each other and you ran towards him, braving the rain. You were about a meter away from him when you realised the reason why he had not rushed out of the river to greet you. Like the first time you met all those months ago, the man was completely naked, but luckily this time he fell into a river and did not drown into the water. It did not stop you and you completely ignored the fact he was naked to throw yourself in his arms.

The both of you giggled and the brightest smiles were displayed on your faces, you had your arms thrown around his neck while he had his around your hips, hugging you as tightly as possible. He snuggled his face in your neck and took a big breath, getting your scent engraved in his head. Oh how much he had missed it.

You interrupted the hugging session when you realised that he would be freezing in the water so you unzipped your coat and handed it to him. Jimin put it on straight away as he followed you out of the water. Luckily, it was a long coat so it was covering him up to the middle of his legs. You grabbed his hand and led him to the shelter to get away from the water and when you arrived, he pushed you gently inside and against the wall before imprisoning your face between his hands. His lips landed on yours softly and he kissed you like you had dreamed so many times after he disappeared. Except it was so much better in reality, his cold lips were contrasting so much to your warm ones which made the sensation incredible. Your heart had given up on trying to stay calm and seemed to have stopped altogether. The way he was moving them slowly against yours, firmly but not overwhelming, had you feeling lightheaded. What you did not realise was that Jimin was getting lost in your touch just as much as you and could not stop kissing you.

In the end, you separated to get some air, and you looked at each other, your faces red from either excitement or embarrassment. You were certainly the happiest you had been in a while, and this unexpected reunion had everything to do with it.

"I can't believe you are here...!"

"I am sorry it took so long beautiful... I knew where to come ever since my friends heard you on that mountain a couple of months ago. But the damn wind kept taking me to the wrong places and there was nothing I could do." Jimin punctuated every end of sentence with a kiss on your lips, or your cheek, or your forehead. He did not seem to be able to get enough of you.

"And then, I arrived in the area a few days ago and it was so cloudy but the bloody rain would not come!"

More kisses onto your face and you laughed while responding to his affection. You pushed him away slightly and looked at him straight in the eyes, intimidating him slightly, wondering what you were going to do.

"I know this comes a bit late but..." You swallowed and took a deep breath. "I love you Jimin, could you please stay with me?"

The purest smile illuminated the man's face and he grabbed you in his arms, spinning you around and laughing loudly.

"Of course I'd want to Y/N. I love you too!"

#bts scenario #bts #jimin #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jimin fanfic #jimin fic #jimin fluff #jimin x reader #jimin angst #bts fic

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t0ngue-tech · 6 years ago

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A Whirlwind Summer

“’You’re y/n, right? Jisoo’s friend.’ Taehyung asked nonchalantly.

‘Yeah, I am and you’re Taehyung.’ You replied, placing two dollar bills and a small cluster of coins on the palm of his hand.

‘That’s me.’”

↠highschoolAU(obviiii) fluff n’ angst, lots of dialogue if yall dont mind huhu↞

word count: 15k oh my god

↠oneshot↞

a/n: THE LAST TIME I UPLOADED WAS IN DECEMBER HOLY BALLS IM SORRY LOL. ive been writing this on and off for about two months and im so happy to have finally finished it. i hope you guise like it ^-^

Summer was supposed to be two months filled with late nights and lots of leisure reading. You had plans to finally finish a book series that you started at the beginning of the year and of course, you made sure to make time in your busy schedule to hang out with Jisoo.

It was two weeks into summer and you didn’t touch the series you planned to read because your mother thought it would be a good idea to come home from work one day with a bunch of applications for a summer job. You told her that you wanted to start working in college where you were allowed to work on campus and she didn’t mind at all, so when she handed you the stack of applications, you were confused.

“It’s only for the summer, sweetheart. And after this you have some work experience.” Was her reasoning and you knew you couldn’t say no.

After filling out the applications and going to a few interviews, you ultimately decided to work at a cozy ice cream parlour that was located across the park you frequented.

It was early evening which meant there weren’t as much people coming into the parlour. Jisoo was waiting with you to finish because she was going to sleepover at your house. You didn’t drive, so Jisoo was also your ticket home instead of you making the fifteen minute walk back to your house.

“Lighten up, y/n. Sure, your summer may have been ever-so-slightly ruined, but you get free ice cream, so who’s the real winner here?” Jisoo turned a page from her book and sipped on a rootbeer float you prepared for her.

“I have books I’d rather read.”

“But you’re getting paid now! And more money means more books!”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Jisoo was right. Instead of verbally admitting it, you took away her rootbeer float and with that, you two jokingly bickered over your slight stubbornness.

The familiar jingle from the entrance door rang and a boy you both knew walked in with three kids who seemed over-excited to be there.

The boy was Kim Taehyung and the only reason why you knew him was because Jisoo had mentioned him a few times and how his friends were always hanging out near the bleachers, blastic music through speakers during lunch and after school. You never spoke to him and you’ve never really gotten in close proximity with him until now. He mumbled something to the kids he was with and strided over the Jisoo who seemed less enthusiastic about the conversation. The kids ran up to the glass that shielded the ice cream flavours and they easily distracted you from focusing on whatever he was talking about with Jisoo.

“At least just think about it.” Taehyung slowly walked towards the register where you were punching in his total.

“Five dollars and thirty-two cents.” You squeezed into his one-sided conversation.

Quietly, he reached into his wallet and brought out the exact change, recounting the cents over and over just to make sure it was correct.

“Jisoo, just think about it and if not, I’ll just relay the message to him—thank you.” He gently plucked the receipt from your hand and gathered the kids who were happily eating their dessert.

“Fine.” Jisoo sighed, not looking up from her book. Taehyung breathed a quiet thank you to her and motioned the kids towards the door.

Before you could even ask, Jisoo answered your question for you.

“I swear, Seo Joon needs to run his errands himself instead of making Taehyung do it.” She slammed her book shut. “I already told him that I don’t want to get back together.”

“Didn’t you two break up like two months ago?” You asked.

“Yes! Since he thought it was a good idea to ‘fake break up’ with me as a dare or whatever, then he’s going to have to deal with the consequences.”

“Spicy.” You commented.

“Exactly. Now, another refill on that rootbeer float because god knows I need it.”

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

A new week, yet the same routine. You woke up that morning, did your usual morning rituals, and walked down to the ice cream parlour with an audiobook playing through your earphones.

Hours ticked on and families came and went, looking for a cold oasis in the heat. You were on the floor with your manager that afternoon and luckily you got along just fine with him.

An elderly woman who introduced herself as Mrs. Song was a regular at the parlour since she was a teenager. So, when she saw a new face, your face in particular, she was elated.

She came into the parlour with her caretaker every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. They sat at the same seats near the counter and ate the same flavour every visit; mint chip for the caretaker and neapolitan for Mrs. Song.

Mrs. Song was a sweet old lady who easily forgets a lot of things. Whenever she saw you and Jisoo, she would always refer to you two as “sweetheart” or “deary”; you loved it whenever she called you that.

The parlour wasn’t as busy except for a few members from the city’s little league came in with their parents. Mrs. Song was reading through a newspaper and her caretaker had her nose inside of a book. You had just finished sweeping from behind the register when the bell of the entrance door rang when a familiar dark haired boy walked in with three younger kids who seemed high in spirits.

Taehyung was a stranger to you, so you weren’t looking for any sort of conversation with him. But you did have a feeling that he was probably going to ask you about Jisoo. The three kids sat on the remaining counter seats, waving sweetly at Mrs. Song who seemed excited to see them.

Taehyung approached the casing where the tubs of ice cream were and you were hoping your manager was going to take his order, but after a quick look around the room, he wasn’t present.

Good grief. You set aside the broom and glided towards the ice cream flavors.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The tone of your customer service voice disgusted you.

“Yeah uh, can I have three small cups of cookies and cream, chocolate, and rocky road.” Taehyung hummed as you reached for three cups. “What flavor do you recommend?”

You stared at the flavors for a moment before grabbing the ice cream scooper. “I personally like chestnut praline and brownie crunch.”

He nodded his head and chewed on the inside of his cheek, still indecisive on what flavor he wanted.

“Would you like a sample of both?” You asked.

“Hm, sure.”

You grabbed two plastic spoons and scooped up a tiny portion of each flavor for him to try and as he pondered his choices, you finished up the kids’ orders and set it in front of them.

“I’ll just take brownie crunch in the medium cup, please.” Taehyung spoke whilst throwing away the spoons in the nearby trash can.

As you were scooping the amount into the cup, you glanced at Taehyung who was pulling out a couple of bills out of his wallet. He looked over at the kids who were having a great time listening to Mrs. Song tell a story.

“That’ll be seven dollars and seventy-two cents.” You handed over the cup with a napkin wrapped around it.

Taehyung handed you two five dollar bills and took a bite of his ice cream.

“You’re y/n, right? Jisoo’s friend.” Taehyung asked nonchalantly.

“Yeah, I am and you’re Taehyung.” You replied, placing two dollar bills and a small cluster of coins on the palm of his hand.

“That’s me.” There was a brief moment of silence between you two as he lazily stuffed the change into his pocket. “Well, I’ll see you around. Let’s go guys.”

The three little boys waved goodbye to Mrs. Song and her caretaker. Her eyes lit up as she watched them leave the parlour. She then turned to you and said with a smile, “your boyfriend works well with kids, sweetheart.”

There was no point in telling her otherwise because she was probably not going to remember who Taehyung was the next time she was going to see him. So, you just smiled politely and wiped down the counter with a small towel.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

Your day offs never seemed to recharge your battery to its fullest capacity, but it was enough for you to wind down with a book and an iced tea.

Although today wasn’t one of those days.

It was a warm and slow late afternoon. You were sitting on a stool behind the register, reading one of your books and drinking a milkshake your manager made for you. You were heavily invested in your book that you almost didn’t hear the door open.

To your surprise, Taehyung walked in with his head down and his shoulders dipped forward. As he walked closer to the counter, you noticed multiple splotches of dirt and grass all over his clothes. There was also a fresh gash the size of a golf ball on his knee.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?!” You snapped your book shut with your bookmarker almost sliding out. He was going to take a seat at one of the stools at the counter but you guided him to one of the tables so he has back support.

“My cousin had little league practice and a some of the kids’ chaperones and I decided to have a little game of our own.” Taehyung explained and slowly lifted his injured leg to rest on the second chair you pulled out for him. “I was going for home base and slid towards it as if my life depended on it—I mean, my team won, but at what cost?” He winced as he adjusted himself in the chair.

“Hold on, I’ll get a first aid kit.” You disappeared in the back room and quickly returned with a large white box.

Cleaning up cuts and scratches was a norm for you because of how much time you spent watching your little cousins at the park. It happened so often that it became it habit to carry band aids and alcohol pads in your bag.

“So, where’s your cousin?” You crouched beside him and rummaged through the box.

“He already had plans to play video games at his friend’s house after practice so he went there and I...ended up here.” Taehyung explained squeezing his eyes shut.

“And what brought you here?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I was just walking and—ow! Fuck!” His entire leg flinched at the sudden contact of his gash and the alcohol pad touching.

“Shit, sorry! I should’ve warned you, I’m so sorry!” On instinct, you blew on his gash to cool down the stinging of the alcohol--something you did for your cousins.

“It’s uh, it’s okay, sorry. You can continue.” Taehyung tightly gripped the hem of his shirt and looked away to brace for impact, so with caution, you proceeded to clean his wound.

There were broken hisses coming from him and he squeezed his hand tighter and tighter until his knuckles ghosted white. You glanced up at him once in a while and pressed your lips together to keep yourself from smiling. This sight was a complete 180 from what you see at school; he walked around with confidence seeping from every pore and right now all confidence disappeared.

“I don’t think there’s any bandage that’s big enough for this.” You moved around some of the objects inside of the first aid kit. “I’ll just patch it up with some gauze okay?” Taehyung weakly nodded his head, still not looking at his knee. In less than five minutes, you had his knee all patched up and ready to go.

“There you go. Just don’t forget to remove the gauze and clean your cut later.” You stood up, trying to not fall over from being crouched over for so long.

Taehyung nodded and when you returned from the back room, he thanked you for coming to his aid. He limped over to where the ice cream was and pondered his choices before ultimately choosing chestnut praline in a medium sized cup.

“Did Jisoo mention anything about Seo Joon?” He asked.

You thought about a few days ago when Jisoo ranted about how she was over Seo Joon and that he wanted nothing to do with him, but you bit your tongue knowing this wasn’t any of your business.

“No, nothing new.” You handed Taehyung his ice cream over the casing.

“Well, if you don’t mind, could you tell her to lay down the line with Seo Joon please? I swear it feels like I talked to her way more than he did.”

You weren’t sure if Taehyung meant to say that outloud because this really wasn’t your business. He stabbed around his ice cream and hopped over to the counter seat. Ever since Jisoo mentioned it, you were curious yourself, so you took the chance to ask him.

“Why does he make you do it instead of doing it himself?”

Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck and you began to regret asking in the first place.

“I don’t...really know why. He asks me to do it and I just do it, I guess.” He simply stated. The tone of his voice sounded hesitant, but you decided not to dwell on it.

You hummed and made sure to receive Taehyung’s payment for the ice cream. You also hoped that this was going to be the last time you were going to have a conversation with him.

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Of course, your hopes were shot down in one blow.

Two days after your encounter with Taehyung, you were working during a mild heatwave. The parlour was busier than normal, but thankfully it was nothing chaotic.

You had just served Mrs. Song her second cup of ice cream and your manager blended you a chocolate banana milkshake, telling you to take a break. The excitement in your eyes was hard to contain as you untied your apron and sat one seat away from Mrs. Song.

She was invested in putting together the same fifty piece puzzle she brought with her every other week, so you scrolled through your phone letting her be.

“Hey.” Taehyung’s voice came from out of nowhere, startling you. “You’re off today?”

“Hi.” You squeaked. “Just on break.”

He set his phone and wallet down in front of the seat next to you and took a five dollar bill as he walked to the register.

Not even five minutes passed and Taehyung slid onto the seat and stuffed his wallet with whatever change he had in his hand. Just at quick glance, you could already tell he ordered another cup of chestnut praline ice cream. Without saying another word, he took a bite out of his dessert and he mindlessly stared at the menu of other items that were sold at the parlour.

You took another quick peek at Taehyung who had the front of his hair tied messily into a short ponytail on the top of his head. The tank top he wore was slightly damp on the backside and his shoulder glistened whenever the sun or the ceiling lights hit it at a certain angle. The weather outside was scorching and you were grateful for being in a closed air-conditioned space.

The milkshake you were drinking was already halfway through and you didn’t even realize it. You were too focused on whether or not you should talk to Taehyung. It still felt awkward for you to start a conversation with him because, to put it simply, you really didn’t know how.

Conversations with Taehyung only happened by chance and out of pure convenience, but this time you weren’t behind the counter to serve him ice cream and he wasn’t writhing in pain from some sort of injury.

Duh, ask about his knee.

“How’s your knee?” You asked shly. Talking to him was also not necessary, but you felt compelled to do so.

He looked down which made your head automatically tilt downward; a layer of what looked to be fresh gauze was wrapped around his right knee.

“I have to limp around because of the gauze but other than that, it’s alright.” He twisted his leg to showcase his bandaged injury. “Thanks again, by the way. My mom thought nearly fainted when I got home.” Taehyung laughed as he said that which gave you leeway to laugh as well.

“Why?”

“She thought I got into a fight during my cousin’s practice especially because of all the dirt on my clothes.” Taehyung laughed with his entire body, almost falling over. “She look mortified. So we went out to buy gauze that night.”

“Your mom sounds like my mom. My mom tends to overreact even when it’s slightest injury.” You smiled to yourself.

“I know what you mean. They’re a bit dramatic, but they mean well.” Taehyung mixed around his ice cream. “It also doesn’t help the fact that I’m an only child, so I’m always getting the lecture ‘Taehyung, you’re my one and only baby blah blah blah.’”

The look on Taehyung’s face looked rather relaxed than annoyed as he said those words. It was a bit scary how you could relate because again, you two were polar opposites. Although, honestly, it was comforting in a way.

“I feel you.” You sighed. “But Jisoo is basically treated like family in my house, so I share those lectures with her.”

Taehyung left the plastic spoon in his mouth for a brief moment before speaking. “It must be great Jisoo has that relationship with your family.” He hung his head as scooped up a small portion of his ice cream.

“But you have Seo Joon, Minho, and the rest of your friends.”

“I--I don’t really invite them over.” He explained quietly and your eyes widened.

“Why not?”

Before Taehyung could answer you, your manager called your name to take over the register because of a conference call he had to take. You purse your lips together and apologized to Taehyung for cutting your conversation short. He waved it off with a smile and continued to feast on his dessert.

As you returned to the register to take an order for a family of five, you side-eyed Taehyung who was leaned towards his right, whispering and smiling with Mrs. Song. Unfortunately, you were too busy focusing on punching in numbers to focus on what they were saying and with Mrs. Song’s memory and imagination, their conversation could’ve been about anything.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

Your next day off fell on the perfect day; the summer heat was bearable so you decided to get yourself a free refreshing milkshake from the ice cream parlour and read a book under a large tree at the park.

Music played through your earphones as you crossed the street with a chestnut praline milkshake in your hand. The summer dress you chose to wear was a peach color made up of a very light material to keep yourself cool; it was also your favorite clothing item.

The park wasn’t overly crowded which was perfect. There were some families having picnics, kids were running all over the playground, and there was a group of people off in the distance. Near the entrance was the most exquisite looking tree that provided the right amount of shade in all angles and you automatically gravitated towards it.

You packed a large blanket in your satchel and as well as a second blanket to cover your legs if you decided to lie down because even if you were wearing safety shorts, you knew better. The slightest breeze, a perfect tree, a milkshake, and a good book made up your day off and you couldn’t be any more happier.

After switching your position a thousand times, you decided to sit cross legged to keep your dress pinned down with your milkshake in between your thighs. You mindlessly played with the tassels that surrounded your blanket and continued to read your book.

The sudden drop of a heavy object next to you scared you out of your wits and the milkshake you secured almost spilt all over your blanket. Heart racing, you looked up to find Taehyung looking down at you with a boxy grin plastered on his face. A skateboard was the object that had dropped on the grass beside you and he then stripped himself of the flannel he was wearing to cover a spot on your blanket for himself to sit on.

“A warning would’ve been nice.” You sighed, placing a hand over your chest. “And you could have just sat on my blanket.”

Taehyung slid his shoes off to imitate your position and sit cross legged as well. “I’m probably covered in dirt. My cousin had practice down there and we decided to have another baseball match.” He moved his limbs around for you take a look at his skin. “No injuries, just dirt.”

“Good.” You smiled and tried to focus on your book, but Taehyung continued to distract you by ripping out the grass beside him. The one thing that didn’t sit right with you was how did Taehyung spot your from all the way on the other side of the park? And even if he was able to recognize you, why was he sitting with you?

“Is that book for school?” He asked, taking a peek at the cover.

“No, just for the joy of reading.” You closed the book realizing there was no way you could stay focused. “Is the little league still practicing?”

“They should be done right about now. The team is going to the community pool and my cousin is sleeping over a friend’s house after.” Taehyung explained. “I was about to leave and then I saw you sitting all the way over here--why are you all the way over here?”

You laughed and took a sip out of your milkshake. “It’s a nice tree to sit under, wouldn’t you agree?”

Taehyung stole the condensated cup out of your hand and proceeded to drag out a long sip of your drink making your jaw hang.

“Yeah, it’s a good spot.” He nonchalantly said before leaning back to lie down. “And that’s a really good drink. Since when could you turn chestnut praline into a milkshake?”

You clenched your fist to stop yourself striking his stomach. “It’s literally on the menu, Taehyung. ‘Turn your favorite flavor into a milkshake.’”

Not a single word was breathed out by Taehyung for about two minutes, which was odd. Maybe it was the right time to continue reading.

“You know,” Taehyung started.

Or maybe not.

“I don’t know why, but it sounded different when you said my name.”

“How?” You scrunch your eyebrows together because what he said made no sense. It was his name. Why would it sound any different? “Did you want me to call you something else?”

“No, no, y/n. ‘Taehyung’ is fine.”

Taehyung never mentioned anything else after that. He laid there with his eyes closed and you didn’t know when, but he fell asleep at some point. You glanced back and forth from your book to him just to check and make sure he was still sleeping. It was difficult to not be hung up over what he mentioned, but if he wasn’t going to expand more on his thoughts then maybe it wasn’t important.

You stayed at the park for almost an hour; you even finished your book. It was tempting to not wake up Taehyung because he looked too peaceful to disturb, but it had to be done. After shaking his leg a few times and quietly calling his name (you were now feeling self conscious about the way you said his name), Taehyung woke up in a hazy state.

Taehyung assisted you in folding up your blanket and before gesturing you to leave first, he said, “see you.”

No “see you tomorrow” or “see you next week” just a plain “see you.” When were you going to see him again? Who knows.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride, y/n?” Jisoo handed you a paper bag and you handed her a rootbeer float in return.

You had thirty minutes till 9 pm which meant thirty more minutes till you could finally lock up and go home. Since you worked a long shift, Jisoo agreed to pick up a book from a bookstore that you preordered.

“Yes, Jisoo. It’s a nice night. It’s perfect for walking.” Jisoo blew her bangs upwards, obviously concerned about you walking home so late. “All of the late-night restaurants on this block are still open and I have my emergency whistle.”

You were stubborn, of course, Jisoo knew that first hand. So, she reached over the counter to squish your cheeks together. “Okay, fine. But you better text me when you get home!”

“I-prom-ise.” It was your turn to reach over and squish Jisoo’s cheeks.

“Okay. I have to go.” She released your face and held yours hands instead. “If anything happens—“

“Call you, yes, mom.” You gently pushed her away and laughed. “Just go, Jisoo.”

As Jisoo stepped backwards, she pointed towards her eyes and then towards yours indicating I’m watching you. But she meant that in the most endearing way possible. She was the sister you’ve always wanted, but god knows your mom wouldn’t know how to properly handle the both of you. So being friends was the best thing the world could offer.

Right before Jisoo’s entire body left the entrance, she was speaking to someone at the door and you could already tell who it was in your peripherals; none other than Taehyung. He waved at Jisoo then turned on his heel to greet you. You weakly waved at him because you were too distracted by Jisoo flailing her arms and giving you a thumbs up before fully skipping out the door.

“Hey.” Taehyung handed you a five dollar bill and at this point you didn’t need to ask him about his order. “Are you closing?”

“Yeah. My manager had to leave early because his babysitter couldn’t stay long today.” You handed him his chestnut praline ice cream in a medium cup. “What brings you here?”

He shrugged his shoulders and took a large bite of his ice cream. “It was a nice night, decided to go for a walk.”

“A walk?” You questioned. “To the ice cream parlour.”

“Not exactly. Just, you know, around. Then I saw Jisoo through the glass and then I saw you.”

His words were casual, but he was everything but. He stared at the menu, indenting crescent shaped marks into the peaks of his ice cream with his spoon. You were trying your hardest to not make the atmosphere weird between you two, but Taehyung was already way ahead of you.

Taehyung sat quietly at the counter as you wiped around the register until he offered to help you clean up the parlour after he scarfed down his ice cream. You protested, reminding him that you were the employee but he kept his hand out, waiting for some sort of cleaning instrument; it takes one to know one, so you knew he was going to be stubborn if you didn’t comply. You eventually handed him a broom and dustpan to sweep up dining area while you took care of the areas behind the register and back rooms.

Cleaning with Taehyung felt almost therapeutic because he turned played some piano jazz from his phone to keep a gentle ambience for cleaning. He cracked jokes here and there but majority of the time was spent tidying in comfort.

“I guess I have to pay you now for helping me.” You joked, getting ready to lock up.

“I’ll take half of my payment in the form of free ice cream tomorrow.” He said quickly.

“And the other half?”

Taehyung turned the open side around to read closed and pondered his options. “I get to walk you at least halfway to your house since it’s late and all.”

You had to admit, you were grateful that Taehyung offered to walk you only half way because you didn’t feel comfortable revealing your home to him just yet. You were also convinced that Jisoo probably put him up to it since they spoke a little at the door, but when you brought it up to Taehyung, he denied the assumption.

“Hm.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “Okay, but only halfway.”

Taehyung trotted down the sidewalk beside you with his arms gently swaying at his sides. All the street lights were all working properly and just as you told Jisoo, the restaurants and pubs along the walkways were also quite lively; this made the walk a little less awkward.

But talking won’t hurt either.

“Did Seo Joon talk to Jisoo yet? Because she hasn’t mentioned him lately.” You asked.

“I honestly don’t know. He hasn’t said anything about her either.” Taehyung kicked a rock off the curb. “In my opinion, I think he’s wasting his time.”

You threw your hands up in the air in relief. “Exactly! Jisoo and I say that all the time. We don’t know why he’s always making you guys constantly ask Jisoo to give him another chance when she said no many times.”

“Yeah. No means no.”

A cyclist with a headlight was approaching ahead of you and on instinct, Taehyung tugged you by the hand to make more room for the man to pass through. As he biked past, he quickly yelped out a thank you and sped off into the night.

“At least he had the decency to say thank you.” Taehyung whispered.

“Y-Yeah.” You tried to stifle the stutter in your voice as you wriggled your hand out of Taehyung’s.

He could have easily grabbed your forearm or even simply tell you to move to the side. Instead, he boldly took your hand into his and even held onto it for about five more seconds after the cyclist biked past.

For the rest of the way, you two remained silent only increasing the awkward tension. Even after thanking him and saying bye, you couldn’t stop think about holding his hand. It was annoying because you had no reason to be thinking about it this hard. It annoyed you so much to the point you called Jisoo as soon as you got him because god, you felt like you were going crazy.

“I can’t say I’m that surprised, y/n. When I asked what he was doing at the parlour he said he wanted to see you.”

You quickly sat up on your bed and practically yelled, “really?! But why?!”

“Who knows and I don’t mean to offend you in any way, I promise but, isn’t that kind of weird?”

“No, I know what you mean.” You scratched your head and fell back against your pillows. You obviously didn’t know Taehyung as long as Jisoo had, but you never saw him flirt much with other or even just hang around with other people besides his crew.

“If he’s trying to flirt with you, he’s doing a bad job.”

“Jisoo!”

Jisoo laughed in your ear. “I’m kidding, y/n. But honestly, Taehyung is nothing like Seo Joon’s dumbass, but just be careful.”

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Maybe talking to Jisoo was a bad idea. The whole day at work you couldn’t stop thinking about holding hands with Taehyung and hearing her words be careful. She was just being protective of course and you weren’t going to stand there and lie to yourself and say that Taehyung isn’t a good guy. You only thought that way in the beginning because he hung around Seo Joon, but so far, Taehyung has been nothing but nice to you. But Jisoo was right, you had to be careful.

You drummed your fingers against the countertop. There had been multiple moments where you zoned out because of your own thinking. It had to stop.

“Hi, y/n.”

But how could it stop when you owed Taehyung free ice cream.

“Hey, Taehyung. Your ice cream is ready and waiting.”

He sat patiently at the counter and you caught him smiling at you while scooping the ice cream into a cup.

“Are you closing again today?”

You looked at the clock behind you.

2:32 PM

“No, I opened, so I’m getting off at five.”

Taehyung mouthed the word five and took a large bite out of his ice cream. He sat in silence while you cared for other customers that came in. He even smiled and waved at one of the toddlers who shyly hid behind her father’s leg. Taehyung cooed for her to give him a high five and after making some embarrassing faces, she emerged from her hideout and skipped over to give Taehyung a high five.

You couldn’t help but smile. Taehyung outside of school was a whole new person. He seemed more independent and gentle rather than the rowdy demeanor he gives off at school.

Why was someone like Taehyung hanging around a jerk like Seo Joon? Seo Joon had an inflated ego and believed he could have anything he wanted. Taehyung, on the other hand, was the complete opposite--although, you couldn’t say much because you never spent a significant amount of time with him.

God, y/n. It’s sounding like you want to spend more time with him.

“Are you busy after work, y/n?” Taehyung wiped his mouth with a napkin and inched closer to the register.

You gave it some thought. “No…? No, I don’t think I am. Why?”

“Well…” He started off quietly. “The little league is having a late practice and I was wondering if you wanted to come by and watch.”

Just when you were thinking about spending time with Taehyung, the universe read your mind. It was a very tempting offer and this would give you a chance to get to know him better--in a friendly way of course. So, you happily accepted and he gave you instructions to where he would be at the park for you to find him.

“I’ll see you later then, y/n.” Taehyung discarded his trash and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah.” You breathed. “Bye Taehyung.”

As Taehyung started to walk out the door, he looked back to wave and the smile he wore looked genuine, making you smile unknowingly.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

The next few hours flew by in a blink of an eye. One second you were refilling the sugar cone stack and next you were walking out of the parlour with two chestnut praline milkshakes in each hand. The milkshakes were a last minute idea, plus a ziploc bag of snacks in your satchel.

The dim rays of the sun hit your skin, but it wasn’t as hot as noon time. You passed through area of the park where most families were stationed--near the playground and bathrooms. Just beyond that was an open area where you spotted the dugout and playing field.

The closer you got, the sight of children running around with their baseball gloves and their parents watching from the side. You walked around the large diamond, past the dugout and found Taehyung sitting cross legged on the lush grass. He was cheering on the team and in the midst of that, your presence caught his attention.

“Y/n! Hey!” He called out with a boxy grin.

“Hi.” You waddled over and handed him his milkshake before sitting beside him.

“Thank you, but you really didn’t need to.” Even if he said that, he excitedly took a long sip out of his refreshment.

“It’s still warm out so I thought this would help while we watch--oh! I also packed some cookies.” You pulled out one of the ziplocs filled with a mixture of oreos, chocolate chip, and shortbread cookies. “We crush them for toppings.”

Taehyung smiled gratefully and proceeded to pull out an oreo. He then pointed out his cousin and explained their current game plan. You had little to no knowledge about baseball and Taehyung patiently answered your questions to the best of his abilities.

“Wow. So did you play baseball too?” You asked.

“No. I actually didn’t play much sports. I just learned from my cousin’s dad because he coached a little league team on the side before his firm skyrocketed.” Taehyung told you stories about his childhood and how he was intrigued with baseball despite never being on a team. He laughed while telling you that the reason why he never joined his uncle’s little league team was because his mom didn’t want him to get hurt.

“And apparently she still carried on the same ethic as you went onto high school.” You joked.

“Yeah, yeah she did.” Taehyung let out a deep chuckle. “How about you? Any sports?”

You scrunch your nose and shook your head. “I was, and still am, a bookworm.”

The parents and other spectators began to cheer and on an instinct, you and Taehyung did the same even if you two had no idea what was going on with the game. After the cheering died down, Taehyung smoothly continued the conversation.

“What kind of books do you like to read?”

“I like young adult fiction and psychological thrillers.” You answered shyly.

Taehyung raised his eyebrows and popped a shortbread cookie into his mouth. “I would have never guessed that you liked to read psychological thrillers.”

“Do I look that much of a goody two shoes?”

“N-No, of course not. It’s just that...uh…” He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to fish for words that wouldn’t offend you.

“I’m kidding, Taehyung.” You snickered. “I know I don’t look like it, I own a lot of psychological thriller books. It’s unbelievably captivating. ”

“Well, maybe you could recommend a book for me. I don’t read much and you seem to know what’s good.”

Naturally, your eyes lit up. Jisoo didn’t prefer psychological thrillers because she got nightmares easily and your other friends weren’t as much as a bookworm as you were. “Yeah, of course. I’d probably have to look through my selection to find something that’s not too scarring for you to start with.”

Taehyung settled his his milkshake in between his legs and fiddled with his fingers. He stared up into the cotton candy sky for a brief moment. “Maybe we could, I don’t know, exchange numbers so you could let me know when you found a book?”

You weren’t going to sit there and lie to yourself and say that his request didn’t make your heart skip a beat. Things weren’t being rushed, right? It was just his phone number. It’s not like he was asking you out on a date on the spot.

“Sure, yeah.” You gave him your number and within seconds, you received a text that contained a string of book emojis. “I guess I’ll start looking through my bookcase when I get home later.”

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

After that early evening at the park, you and Taehyung texted almost everyday. He still came by to visit you at the ice cream parlour. Most days he came with his cousin and his cousin’s friends and other days, he came by on his own. Whenever he visited when you worked the closing shift, he always walked you halfway home; it sort of became a ritual.

This type of connection with a boy didn’t always come by, so it was something you gladly and cautiously shared with Jisoo. You expected her to be hesitant about the whole thing, but she was completely on board the ship. She was still reminding you to keep yourself guarded, but she promised to be supportive no matter what was going to happen between you and Taehyung.

You lended Taehyung three of your books since then and after he completed a book, he would rant to you about the plot, certain characters he disliked, and he even told you that he was a slightly paranoid for two nights; you did warn him about that.

The air was oddly cooler that evening which made it a pleasant walk home. Your dad was picking out a bottle of wine out of the mini fridge in the dining while you were splayed lazily on your sofa, returning texts from Jisoo, Taehyung, and your dad--as a joke.

“How was work, sweetheart?” He asked.

“Kind of slow, but I got to try out some flavours that the parlour is going sell during the fall.” You flipped over onto your side and scanned his bottle choice. “Why don’t you go with chardonnay? It’s mom’s favorite and she’s been working long hours this whole week?”

Your dad stared at the bottle of cabernet and nodded his head. “You know, your knowledge about wine is concerning.”

“You and mom are wine drinkers, of course I would know.” You laughed.

Jokes were exchanged between you and your dad while the smell of garlic and basil floated throughout the room. You were having a great time teasing your dad that you almost didn’t noticed your phone vibrating on the sofa.

“Hello?”

“Hey, y/n. Sorry, are you busy?”

“No, no, Taehyung. I’m just at home. What’s up?”

Taehyung never called you, so this was a curveball.

“I’m actually going to sleepover my cousin’s house tonight and tomorrow, so I wanted to return your book and borrow the next one before I head over there; just so I can have something to do to pass the time while I’m there.”

“I--uh,” You glanced at your father who was mixing what looked to be like a pasta salad. “Yeah, you can stop by. I’ll text you my address and just let me know when you’re here.”

This would be the first time Taehyung would be anywhere near your house. He always walked you halfway, never two-thirds or three-fourths of the way. You were nervous, probably for no reason since he was only dropping off a book.

Ten minutes, you received a here text that was accompanied by a smiley emoji. You already informed your dad, so you skipped outside to find Taehyung standing awkwardly next to your mailbox.

“Hey, did you walk all the way here?”

“Nah, skateboard.” Taehyung moved to the side the reveal his skateboard that was planted on the patch of grass surrounding your mailbox. “Here you go.”

Taehyung handed you the novel in exchange for the next book.

“So, how’d you like it?”

Taehyung blew out a breath and shook his head. “That...was quite the read. I wasn’t expecting her to be the cult leader’s daughter like what?!” He expressed his shock by flinging his hands out in front of him. “And that chase? I was clenching my ass cheeks reading that part.”

You laughed, recalling how your entire body seized up reading that exact same scene. “Yeah, I know exactly how you feel. I finished this novel in one day.”

“Damn.” He breathed. “How about this one--The Dead House? How is it?”

“I guess you’re going to have to read it to find out yourself.” You smiled slyly at him and he scoffed with a similar smile.

The sound of a car pulling in caught both of your attentions. Your mother waved at you through the windshield and exited the car. On the inside, you were desperately praying hard for your mom to not embarrass you in any way.

“Hi honey.” She slipped a swift kiss to your cheek and stuck her hand out towards Taehyung. “And you must be Taehyung. Y/n tells me that she’s been recommending you books.”

Taehyung nervously wiped his hand at the bottom of his shirt before making contact with your mother’s. “Y-Yes, ma’am. That’s me, I’m that Taehyung.”

Your mom smiled sweetly at him and then turned to face you. “Well honey, why don’t we have Taehyung for dinner? Unless you have somewhere else to be.”

Your jaw hung open and you exchanged glances between your mom and Taehyung. You shrugged your shoulders and nodded your head towards him. “Are you busy?”

He also shared anxious glances towards you and your mom before answering. “No, n-no. I’d love to stay for dinner.”

Anxiety built up as you watched Taehyung shake hands with your dad. They knew he wasn’t your boyfriend, but the only reason they were this excited was because you haven’t had a single guy come over for dinner since your freshman year. There were fifteen minutes left on the oven, so your mom, being as sweet as she was, instructed you to show Taehyung your bookcases.

“Wow.”

Taehyung scanned the walls of your room that were splattered with a pale yellow and white paint that were designed in vertical stripes. The floors of your room were a mahogany wood that was consistent with your entire house and in the middle of your room was a pearl white coffee table sitting on top of a large dark gray circular rug. There were two bean bag chairs surrounding the table and small stack of magazines on top.

Beside your desk in the corner of your room were two large off-white bookcases; it looked as if you were almost in desperate need of a third one. He tiptoed over and gently ran his finger over a couple of the spines of a row of books.

“I never pictured your room to be like this.” Taehyung commented.

“And how did you picture it?” You sunk down onto one of the bean bag chairs and he followed in suit.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Bigger? And maybe...light purple?”

You threw your head back and laughed. “I like things comfy and cozy. When we first moved here, my parents wanted me to take the office room down the hall, but apparently I threw a tantrum because this was the room I wanted.”

“You threw a tantrum? Now that is something I have to witness.”

“No, no it’s not.”

For the next fifteen minutes, you answered Taehyung’s questions about your room and even shared stories from your childhood when you first moved in. He learned that you’ve lived in this house your entire life, but only started attending your current high school at the beginning of freshman year because your dad switched office locations.

“Do you miss your old friends?” He asked quietly.

“I do, but I mean, we still talk frequently so it’s not as bad as I thought it was going to be.” You explained. “And plus, I’ve made amazing friends at our school.”

Taehyung flashed you the shyest smile before hiding it behind the back of his hand. Your statement was meant for your girlfriends, but Taehyung was silently woven into it too. You had to admit, he was a great friend. Ever since you started texting him almost everyday, talking to him was so much easier; conversations weren’t forced anymore and you breathed fine around him.

Your dad called you two from the door and apologized for not asking Taehyung if he was vegetarian at the beginning. Of course, you knew he wasn’t.

The menu was baked chicken with rice and mixed vegetables. There was also a bowl of pasta salad which Taehyung become quite fond of; your dad ended up packing a small serving of the pasta to take home with him. To add on the constant generous gestures, he even offered to drive Taehyung home since the sun had gone down, but Taehyung politely declined, stating that his home was just a ten minute skateboard ride away.

“Your parents are great.” Taehyung walked down the driveway after shaking your parents’ hands and thanking them for dinner.

“They’re just being that way because you’re here.” You giggled and handed him the styrofoam bowl of pasta you held for him.

Taehyung sighed into the night sky and ruffled his hair. “Tonight was one of the best nights I had in awhile. Thanks again for having me.”

“It’s no problem at all. I’m glad you had a nice time.”

He placed his skateboard on the sidewalk and took a step forward towards you. He extended his arms outward and enveloped you in a hug which caught you completely off guard. Although, the slightest hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his torso and heard his deep laughter vibrate near your ear.

“I’ll see you later then.” Taehyung whispered, slowly letting you go.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

It was difficult for you to function for the next few days all because Taehyung gave you a hug. This wasn’t fair. How were you supposed to focus on your books and your job if you were so preoccupied with a measly hug.

Jisoo was ecstatic about the idea. She teased you about it because it had been way too long since you’ve been worked up over a guy. You almost didn’t tell her because you knew how she would react, but Jisoo was your best friend so you had to tell her.

The parlour was just starting to die down and you were listening to Mrs. Song passionately talk about her late husband and how he always brought home at least one kind of flower whenever he came home from work. Her caretaker probably heard these stories over a hundred times, but she listened and smiled as if it were her first time hearing it.

“He sounds like a great man, Mrs. Song.” You said with the brightest smile.

“Oh, deary! He was an amazing man. Find yourself a gentleman who is never afraid to show you off and show how much he cares for you.” As Mrs. Song said that, she reached over to grasp onto your hands.

“Of course, ma’am. I will.” You squeezed tightly onto her frail hands and felt your chest cave it. Meeting Mrs. Song was one of the greatest things to ever happen in your life.

Mrs. Song’s caretaker tidied up the ice cream cups and newspaper that she brought which indicated that it was time for them to head back home. They both waved you goodbye and Mrs. Song took small steps with her walker towards the door.

Just on time, you spotted Taehyung through the glass and he rushed to the entrance door to open the door for Mrs. Song. She held onto Taehyung’s hand and they exchanged a few words which were too hushed to hear from where you were. But as they were departing, Taehyung caught you staring and shot you a smile before you shyly turned away.

“You know,” Taehyung began. “Staring is rude.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh and provided him with his usual order. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, can I order tubs of ice cream in advance?” Taehyung asked.

“Uh, yeah. But only in these flavours.” You rummaged through some papers that were stashed inside a compartment.

He plucked the paper out of your hands and read through the list. “I’ll take a gallon of rocky road, neapolitan, and--sucks there’s no chestnut praline.” You both chuckled and Taehyung continued to stare at the list. “And a gallon of vanilla.”

You punched in numbers into the register and Taehyung already had his card out waiting to pay.

“Having a party?” You questioned and ripped out the receipt. “Just bring this receipt whenever you come in to grab the ice cream.”

“The little league is having a celebration on Thursday because gameday is on Wednesday and the coach said win or lose, they’re going to celebrate no matter what.” He folded up the receipt and slipped it into his wallet. “My cousin begged me to order ice cream from here.”

If the two of you didn’t start texting, maybe you two wouldn’t be making jokes and having easy conversations at the moment. Taehyung had such a lovely personality hidden beneath his bad boy persona and it bothered you that he didn’t act this way in school. Would Seo Joon not want to be his friend anymore? Because that’s what high school was--a hotspot for teenagers to do whatever they could to fit in and find friends. Thankfully Jisoo’s eldest sister gave the two of you a talk about being never turning yourself into someone you’re not just to make people like you.

If only Taehyung got the same talk.

“Hey, the summer night festival is next week friday, are you going?” He asked you softly.

The summer night festival was a one night community shindig that was held the last friday before all the kids went back to school on the Monday of the following week. It had been a tradition for as long as you could remember and your family never missed the event.

“I totally forgot about that, but yeah I am. I go every year with my parents.”

Taehyung nodded his head and fidgeted with his hands. “Well, if your parents don’t mind, could I steal you at some point during the festival?”

Like a date?

The words in your head made you stop breathing for a few seconds and you were hoping your cheeks weren’t reflecting how hot they were feeling.

“I--uh--” Taehyung chuckled at the flustered look you had on your face. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure they won’t mind you stealing me, but they would probably mind if you didn’t say hello.”

“I promise I’ll say hi to your parents.” Taehyung stood up and tucked his hair back underneath his hat. “I’ll see you then.”

Out of nowhere, Taehyung slid his hand against the counter and curled his fingers around your own. He gave you a light squeeze and proceeded to walk out of the parlour.

You tried your hardest to suppress your smile at the simple touch of his fingers. It wasn’t just the touch of his fingers that sparked your smile. It could easily be a text message, seeing him enter the ice cream parlour, or sharing eye contact with you. He made you laugh easily with stories he tells and even his laugh alone was contagious. You had difficulty in controlling the butterflies inside of you every time you saw him, but granted, you were doing a fairly good job at doing so.

It was terrifying and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, you liked Taehyung. You really did.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

“Thanks for bringing me along, mom and dad. I wish my parents didn’t have to finish late tonight.” Jisoo had her arm linked around yours as the four of you trotted down the pavement into the town.

“Of course, sweetheart. Just don’t forget to bring your dad some of the grilled corn this time.” Your father reached out to gently tug on a lock of Jisoo’s hair.

You had already told Jisoo about meeting with Taehyung so she wouldn’t think you’re going to ditch her out of nowhere. She, without a doubt, understood and made you promise to call her if anything went wrong. You were expecting that kind of response. It was Jisoo.

The festival had already begun. Children were walking around with their parents holding sticks of cotton candy and a balloon animal in the other. Teenagers were swarming around some of the games to win large stuffed animals for their significant others and there was also a dunking booth that the teachers from the different high school were running. The intoxicating smell of food filled the air and you could already taste the chocolate funnel cake in your mouth. After promising your parents that you would link up with them soon, Jisoo dragged you to the deep fried twinkies booth.

For the next two hours, time was spent with Jisoo eating and trying to not spend a lot of money on games you had zero skills in. Jisoo walked back to the bench you two were sitting on with two cups of iced sweet tea.

“Did Taehyung call you yet?” She asked excitedly.

“Not yet--why are you so excited about this?” You laughed and snatched your drink away from her.

“Because this is exciting! You don’t agree? But anyway, he’s probably not even here yet. I saw Seo Joon and his boys when I was in line, but I didn’t see Taehyung with them.”

On an impulse, a sigh escaped your mouth. Thankfully, Taehyung didn’t stand you up or at least you hope he didn’t.

“Did Seo Joon see you?” You asked.

“No, thank you god. I haven’t heard from him in a while so I guess I owe Taehyung one--speaking of the devil.” Jisoo pointed towards your phone that had Taehyung’s name displayed across the screen. She nudged you to answer and you hated how nervous you were feeling.

“H-Hello?”

“Hey, y/n. Sorry, I couldn’t leave my house until my dad got home. Where are you?”

You looked around the crowd to see if you could find him before he found you. “I’m sitting with Jisoo near the sweet tea and peach cobbler booths. I’m wearing a red shirt.”

“Red shirt...peach cobbler… I can’t see--oh, there!”

You whipped your head around and Jisoo did the same. Taehyung flailed around in his white graphic t-shirt and scurried along with sidewalk with his phone still pressed to his ear.

“Hi, hey, Jisoo.” Taehyung greeted while taking deep breaths.

“Hi, Taehyung.” Jisoo returned the greeting and stood up. “Before I go and link up with your parents y/n--thanks Tae for whatever you did to get Seo Joon off my back. It has made my summer a lot more relaxing.”

Taehyung cocked his head and smiled. “I, uh, I don’t really know what I did either, but you’re welcome. Maybe he just got tired of chasing? But whatever happened, it’s good to know that he’s out of your hair.”

They exchanged a few more words and you smiled at the both of them. It was comforting to know that Jisoo was able to get along with Taehyung at the moment. You remembered when you first encountered Taehyung in close proximity, Jisoo was barely communicating with Taehyung and when she did speak to him, she spoke to him in a cold manner. Now, Jisoo was laughing and making direct eye contact with the same guy.

“Geez, y/n.” Jisoo squished your cheeks together. “If I have something on my face, just say it.”

“You seriously have a bad habit in staring.” Taehyung added in.

“She does, doesn’t she?”

“Okay, okay. Don’t gang up on me.” You playfully swatted Jisoo’s hands away and jabbed a finger at each of their legs. “But, we’ll accompany you to wherever my parents are. Taehyung is going to say hi to them.”

After a few calls, your mom finally picked up and directed you three to some sort of game booth where your dad was struggling to win at least one game. Your parents exchanged greetings as soon as your dad landed a win. They briefly spoke, asking if Taehyung’s parents were around the festival too and if he had eaten.

“My parents weren’t able to come tonight and not yet, sir. I was going to buy something for y/n and I.” Taehyung was obviously still nervous around your parents, especially your dad, but it was only natural.

“Well, you two have fun. I’ll call you if we decide to leave early and don’t forget that Jisoo is here too.” Your mom squeezed Taehyung’s shoulder and Jisoo pushed you to stand next to him.

“Okay mom and yes, I won’t forget about Jisoo.” You waved goodbye with a rapid beating heart. This wasn’t your first time spending alone time with Taehyung, but this was the first time you were going to be alone with him knowing that you admitted to yourself that you like him.

Everything was going to be fine as long as you acted normal around him. This meant no stuttering and no over-selling your normality. But could you really pull this off?

“You alright?” Taehyung poked your side, making you flinch.

“Y-Yeah. I’m all good.” You answered fairly quickly.

Of course, you couldn’t pull this off.

“By the way, are you sure you just want breadsticks? The pizza here is top notch.” Taehyung swept your behavior under the rug which you were grateful for.

“Yeah, Jisoo and I ate a little too much desserts. I swear that girl can eat desserts for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

Taehyung stepped to side to swiftly retrieve his order and you were able to catch a whiff of his cologne or body wash or something; it was an earthy citrusy scent that tickled your nose. After returning to you, he helped guide you through the crowd with a careful hand on your lower back making sure not to lose amongst the sea of people.

“If only the ice cream parlour was open. I could go for a milkshake.” He commented.

“Yeah, we closed early because of the festival, sorry.” You looked around the area. “They have rainbow lemonade? That sounds interesting, I mean, it’s no milkshake but still.”

You offered to make the purchase for the both of you but Taehyung constantly pushed you to let him pay for the drinks. Ultimately, he took the win for that.

The festival was still at its peak, so there were still large amounts of crowds which made it difficult to canvass the nearby spots for a bench. The park lights were still on, so Taehyung made the executive decision to park yourselves there to eat. It wasn’t as hot as most nights which made sitting at one of the picnic tables under a lampost more enjoyable.

The garlic and basil breadsticks Taehyung ordered for you were scrumptious and he even let you have the first bite of his pizza to show you what you were missing out on. He told you about how he meant to be at the festival earlier, but his mom was still at work and his dad wanted him to wait for him so someone could be at home to watch their dog.

“Aw, you have a dog?” Your eyes lit up and you clasped your hands together.

“Yeah, our neighbor’s dog gave birth recently so he’s still a puppy.” Taehyung showed you his lock screen to present an adorable ball of fluff with the largest grin on its face. “His name is Yeontan.”

You squealed and stole his phone out of his hands. “He is the cutest! I’d give him the world if I could.”

“I wanted to bring him out for you to meet him, but we have yet to finish up his shots.” He explained, smiling at you.

“Maybe next time?”

“Yeah. Of course.” He took his phone back and stared at his lockscreen for a few seconds. “Or you could come over some time? Just so Tannie doesn’t have to leave my house.”

“I’d…” You started. “I’d love that.”

Going over to Taehyung’s house would mean that there was a chance you would meet his parents. It made you wonder if Taehyung talked about you just like how you talked about him around your family. You thought you were a genuinely good person and you haven’t done anything to hurt Taehyung at some point for him to say anything that could tarnish his parent’s first impression about you.

It wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“By any chance, does your parents know about me?” You cautiously asked.

Taehyung smiled bashfully and nodded his head. “My mom was pleased to know that you’re a reader and you were the one who helped me get patched up that one time. Thanks again, y/n.”

“It’s no problem. I’m pretty sure your mom would’ve had a meltdown if you went home without any bandages whatsoever.” You laughed, thinking about the times Taehyung would shake his head yet speak about his mom endearingly.

“That’s definitely true.” He agreed. “My parents are dying to meet you though, so maybe on your next day off or when you finish early, you could stop by.”

“It’s a date.”

Both of your eyes widened and you choked on your saliva realizing there was no way you could save yourself from that one. The words came out automatically and you were already used to saying it towards Jisoo and your other girlfriends, but with your feelings towards Taehyung, this time was different. You couldn’t help but think that you screwed everything up at that moment because you couldn’t distinguish the look Taehyung had on his face. You couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or disgusted.

“Y-Yeah,” Taehyung mumbled, trying to hide his face behind his hand. “It’s--It’s a date.”

It felt as if your heart was about to beat right out of your chest. You tried to justify everything by telling yourself that he was jokingly agreeing with you, but on the inside, you were praying that he meant it the same way you did.

A brief moment of awkward silence washed on shore and it almost sealed the deal in making you think that you really did screw up big time. Taehyung cut the silence in half by clearing his throat and then scooting closer to you.

“You know, y/n,” Taehyung gulped loudly and planted his elbow on top of the table, resting his cheek on his palm to look at you. “I never imagined myself spending the summer reading and constantly visiting the ice cream parlour.”

“I never expected to be working at all this summer. My mom was the mastermind behind my employment.” You chuckled and rolled your eyes.

“Well, I’m glad she encouraged you to work.” Taehyung held his gaze with you. “I got to meet you.”

How could Taehyung look at you the way he was at the moment and say I got to meet you. Your face was probably beet red and you couldn’t control your smile at that point. There was a lot you wanted to say to him like I love hanging out with you and something corny like we should go thank my mom then. But you stared at him, with your words stuck in your throat and a stupid smile plastered on your face.

“I spent a lot of money on ice cream, but it was worth it.” Taehyung continued with his words, making your heart rate spiral out of control.

“You’ve become a loyal customer.” You joked, making a deep sound of laughter bubble from his throat.

“Yeah, yeah I have.” He said in between laughs. “You’re to blame though.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“No , no, you did a lot, y/n. Trust me.”

“And what exactly have I done, Taehyung?” You asked with a mischievous tone of voice.

Taehyung moved a couple of inches closer to you and you remained still. “First of all, you patched up my wounds. You introduced me to a new flavour of ice cream, you let me borrow your books which blossomed a new interest of mine.” You listened intently as Taehyung’s eyes grew softer. “You made me smile and laugh until my stomach hurt. You also understood my weird family dynamics. I feel less lonely and a lot happier nowadays and you’re to blame, y/n.”

Each word that fell from Taehyung’s lips turned you closer and closer into mush. You were denying the obvious which was mutual feelings because your worlds were similar yet different. There was no way someone like Taehyung could ever feel an ounce of anything towards you. This was usual assumption until you got to know him personally and see what kind of boy he really was. However, naturally, you were still in denial.

“You do know what I’m saying, right?” Taehyung asked and you just slightly parted your lips, scared to say what your heart was pushing you to say. “I’m saying… I like you, y/n. I really like you.”

The oxygen inside of you became trapped inside of your chest. Out of all the things Taehyung could have said, you would would choose for him to say those words again and again. Your hands felt clammy and the rapid sound of your heartbeat was deafening in your ears.

“I just ruined things, didn’t I?” Taehyung snapped you back into reality and you noticed that he scooted a few inches away from you.

You frantically shook your head thinking that your silence ruined things. “No, Taehyung. S-Sorry, I’m just surprised that’s all.”

He nodded and blew out a shaky breath. Judging by the look on his face, Taehyung seemed as nervous as you were and you knew what you had to do to ease the tension.

“I...like you too, Taehyung.” You replied softly.

Taehyung raised his eyebrows. He then poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, exerting a breath of air. “R-Really? Are you sure?”

You laughed and lightly shoved his shoulder. “Yes, I’m sure you dummy. I’m awkward around a lot of people, especially boys, but not with you.” It was Taehyung’s turn to listen with his undivided attention. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately a-and you don’t even know how excited I get when I see you walk through the doors of the parlour or when you text me. My parents like you, it seems like Jisoo is becoming quite fond of you, and it’s so scary because I don’t even think I’m your type so I hope you understand why I’m so shocked. I’m too quiet, I talk to myself sometimes--”

“Y/n.” Taehyung blurted your name out with a chuckle. “Just breathe for a second, okay? I don’t have a type. I don’t care if you talk to yourself or if you think you’re too quiet or whatever else you were going to say. I like you and that’s that.”

Taehyung cautiously cupped the back of your hand with his and looked at you as if you painted the stars in the sky with your own two hands. It was an odd feeling to have him look at you the way he did and yet, it was a reassuring feeling to know that he felt the same as you did.

The stars you apparently painted with your own hands were aligned perfectly. You twisted your hand around to have his palm up against yours until he eventually laced his fingers in between yours. Taehyung giggled softly as he gently caressed the back of your hand with his thumb.

Out of all the events that happened throughout the entirety of summer, this was easily one of your favorites.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

“Oh my god! So, how cute is his dog?” Jisoo squealed.

“Ten out of ten such a good doggo and soooo adorable!” You showcased the photos you took on your phone. There was a large section of your gallery of Yeontan in multiple angles, some were blurry from him moving around too much, and some had you and Taehyung in the photos. Jisoo gushed over the cutest little ball of sunshine and constantly made remarks about how lucky you were to have met Taehyung’s dog.

“You’re so lucky, y/n. Taehyung is sane and has the cutest dog son in the world. I wish my parents allowed me to have a pet other than a fish.” Jisoo said as she pulled into a parking stall at school. “Remind me to get a new parking pass after school.”

You two arrived at school forty-five minutes before the first tardy bell would ring and this was for the sake of student parking. With a lot of the current seniors taking their driver’s test over the summer, it was most likely the parking lot was going to fill up rather quickly.

Before heading onto campus, you both just sat in Jisoo’s car listening to music and chatting about how exciting senior year was going to be for the both of you. Senior year meant college campus tours, college fairs, senior getaway and prom. Not only was there going to be a lot of stress involved, you made a promise to yourself to not be as stressed as you were during junior year.

“I can’t believe we’re seniors, y/n.” Jisoo sighed. “And if you’re going to senior prom with Taehyung who the hell am I going to take couple pictures with?!”

“Whoa, whoa, stop right there, Kim Jisoo. I think you’re getting way ahead of yourself.” You patted her hand.

Jisoo laughed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, whatever, but the boy likes you. Before you know it, he’s going to ask you to be his girlfriend in the most cheesiest way possible!”

The idea of Taehyung doing that was adorable yet embarrassing and plus, Taehyung knew that you didn’t like show-offy events like it; the thought of it made you feel uncomfortable.

“You’re crazy.” You laughed. “But I don’t want to get my hopes up, Jisoo. It’s a new school year. It’s possible for Taehyung to meet somebody new in his classes and I can’t force him to just stick with him.”

Jisoo squinted her eyes at you and folded her arms across her chest. “God, I hate it when you’re right.” She reached for her backpack and turned off her car engine. “Well, enjoy what you have now, y/n and let me enjoy teasing you about Taehyung.”

She stuck her hand out and you laughed while shaking it. “Deal.”

Throughout the whole morning, Taehyung only texted you a good morning message and you were thinking he probably fell back asleep right after. You asked him if he had eaten breakfast yet in your reply and by the time you left your house, he still didn’t respond. Honestly, you wanted to ask him if he wanted to meet someone on school grounds, but it felt like it was too much of a gesture; maybe it was all in your head--the feeling of it being too much.

You stuck with Jisoo for majority of the time. She planned on taking you around the bleachers where Seo Joon and his crew hang out during lunch, but a lot of the new clubs were having welcome booths and the literary club was calling your names.

“Come on, y/n!” Jisoo gently tugged on your hand, heading towards the football field and bleachers.

It was ten minutes after the final bell rang and you told Jisoo about Taehyung only texting you once throughout the day and she found it suspicious. She continued to nag you to check if he was on campus, but you wanted to just leave it alone. It was probably your gut talking to you and as much as you knew you had to trust your gut feeling, you didn’t want to listen.

“Jisoo, I don’t know, I don’t…” Your voice trailed off and you stared at the tips of your shoes.

“Y/n.” Jisoo squeezed your hand and stared deep into your concerned eyes. “You know you have to. And because I love you, I’m going to go with you.”

At this point, you didn’t realize that your body was gravitating towards the football with Jisoo still holding tightly onto your hand. You didn’t want to look up from your feet and when you did, all oxygen inside of you became trapped inside of your lungs.

Taehyung was sitting with the cluster of his friends at the bleachers, laughing and he even quickly checked his phone. There was a possibility that he was too caught up in catching up with his friends to text you another time or maybe he thought he replied to you but didn’t--it has happened a few times and he apologized when it happened. You were hoping for Jisoo to not say anything to get his attention, but Seo Joon called out before you could even tug her back towards the campus.

“Oh, hey, Jisoo.”

All at the same time, the group of friends turned towards you two and instantly, Taehyung’s eyes met yours. Jisoo continued to walk towards the bleachers not letting any of their stares bother her.

“We’re not here for you, Joon.” Jisoo snapped harshly at him and then stared down Taehyung. “Really, Taehyung?”

“Jisoo, stop.” You whispered.

All of Taehyung’s friends panned their heads from you and Jisoo to Taehyung. There was a look of panic on his face and already said everything that you needed to know. You wanted to run but your feet felt as if it was stapled to the ground. The air that was trapped inside of you was now released with one single blow.

“You’re friends with them?” Seo Joon questioned and first looked at Jisoo then back at you with a raised eyebrow.

You watched as Taehyung’s facial expression change from panic to sadness within seconds. “I--I don’t--” He stammered and slowly shrugged his shoulders.

Jisoo squeezed your hand tighter and she pointed an angry finger towards Taehyung. “Kim Taehyung, you fucking--”

“Jisoo, let’s go, please.” You interrupted Jisoo and hung your head down. You didn’t want to be there. You didn’t want to look at Taehyung. You just wanted to leave.

It took a lot for Jisoo to not cuss out Taehyung, you knew that. Instead, she complied with your request and took the lead in guiding you out of the football field and back to the parking lot. She didn’t say one more word and never let go of your hand the whole way there.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

“THAT PIECE OF SHIT!” Jisoo threw her bag onto the concrete of your driveway. “Was he seriously going to stand there and look at you like you were a stranger?! Some fucking nerve he has!”

You sat on top of the hood of Jisoo’s car with your knees hugged to your chest. Thankfully, your parents were both still at work which meant you had the whole house to yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to walk inside.

“Maybe we’re taking this the wrong way, Jisoo.” You mumbled. It was dumb to justify the look on Taehyung’s face.

“I’m sorry, y/n. But that’s bullshit. You know that I know what Taehyung’s face looked like.” Jisoo raked her hand through her hair. “He obviously didn’t tell his friends about you and I hate that I know why.”

There was a stinging sensation in your eyes and you blinked it away. You also had a feeling why he wouldn’t tell his friends. It was your worst nightmare and it was all coming true. You buried your face between your knees and your chest, wanting to disappear.

“Hey, hey, not another step! Go away!”

You poked your head up and found Taehyung stuck dead in his tracks with Jisoo walking to stand by your side.

“Jisoo, just let me explain--”

“I don’t think so, Taehyung. We get it. She gets it.” It was sweet of Jisoo to stand up for you, but honestly, you wanted to hear it from Taehyung himself.

“It’s okay, Jisoo. I’ll be fine.” You whispered whilst climbing down from her car.

She changed her glances between you and Taehyung before sighing. “Okay. I’ll be in your room then,” She held her hand out and you planted your house keys onto her palm. “I won’t be nosy, I promise.”

After giving Taehyung a deadly gaze, Jisoo scooped up both of your backpacks and disappeared inside of your house.

Taehyung walked towards you with hesitation weighing in every step. The hurt in your eyes was obvious and it made looking at you hurt even more because he knew he was the reason for it.

“Y/n...I can explain…” Taehyung began taking deep breaths. “I didn’t tell them...about you…”

There were tears filling up your eyes and you tried to blink them away, but one single tear managed to trickle down your cheek.

“I didn’t tell them anything b-because…” Taehyung’s words fell like stones, dropping slower and slower. Your chest began to tighten and your cheeks started to flare up.

“Because you were embarrassed?! Is that why?” Your words shocked you just as much as it did for Taehyung but it was the reason that was blaring inside of your head the most and you had to put it out there. “I read books, I’m quiet, I’m obviously not the type of girl who would be seen with you.”

Taehyung let out a breath of air and tried to reach for your hand but you pulled away. “That’s not...that’s not the reason, y/n.”

You clenched your jaw and wiped the tears from your eyes. “Look me in the eyes and tell me, with confidence, that that’s not the reason why you didn’t tell them.”

He tilted his head back and combed his fingers through his hair. “Seo Joon mentioned once that he didn’t know how you and Jisoo became friends because you seemed different from her and--”

“And you didn’t want to tell him because you were afraid if you told him, he would make fun of you and tell you that you probably deserved better. Got it, Taehyung.”

“Y/n...Seo Joon is a fucking dick, okay? And he wouldn’t have let me live if he found out that I was involved with someone that he--he thought--” Taehyung watched as your tears resurfaced and he took in a sharp breath. “Y/n, I like you. You don’t know how much I fucking like you, isn’t that enough?”

There was a moment of silence before you answered. “You’ve been in my house and you met my parents. I know your little cousin and his friends, I met your parents and your puppy. Why is Seo Joon’s opinion so important to you, Taehyung?”

He grit his teeth and sighed. “I don’t know, y/n. But I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Me too.”

You wiped whatever tears were stained on your face then turned your heel to walk away. He called out your names and each time he called for you, tears welled and you covered your mouth to stifle your sobs. From your driveway to your front door, you never once looked back.

Was it wrong to think you didn’t deserve this? Every girl deserves someone who wasn’t afraid to be with them and this included you.

It almost didn’t occur to you that you arrived in your room until Jisoo said your name. You dragged your feet to your bed and slumped your body down against the mattress.

“It would...It would’ve been too embarrassing…” You sniffled. “...too embarrassing if Seo Joon knew…”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Jisoo immediately joined and curled up next to you, letting you bury your face into her shoulder to cry it all out. She stroked your hair, listening to you wail and question this had to happen to you.

Even with Jisoo in your room, you had never felt so alone.

↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠↠

Instead of quitting after summer, you decided to keep the job at the ice cream parlour because of the relationships you gained with your coworkers. Plus, when Jisoo told you that “more money meant more books,” it stuck with you.

The week stretched out a lot longer than you would’ve liked and as much as you wanted to relax on a Saturday, you were scheduled to work the afternoon shift. Even after sleeping in for a bit, you were feeling a bit groggy because your exhaustion caught up with you, but talking to Mrs. Song was making all exhaustion dissipate.

“School is just a mere distraction, deary. Marry a millionaire and you’ll be fine.” Mrs. Song instructed and her caregiver laughed and reminded her that you were still young and that you still had a lot to do in your life.

“Well, you do that, but don’t forget to marry a good man--have I told you about my late husband, sweetie?” Her caregiver smiled and winked at you.

“No, Mrs. Song. I’d love to know about him.” You smiled back at her and listened with your undivided attention. No matter how much times you’ve heard the stories, you would never get tired hearing how romantic her husband was with her. Even while you took care of other customers, she still talked about her life with him and you listened and asked questions so she knew that you were listening.

“So, he wasn’t a millionaire, Mrs. Song?--thank you, have a good day.” You handed a customer his change.

“Not at all, dear. But our time together was priceless.”

The entrance door opened and in came the last person you wanted to see, although it couldn’t be helped. When Taehyung walked in, his cousin and his friends came running in through the doors first and he followed with his hands in his pockets.

Mrs. Song greeted him as you tended to the kids with a smile. The last time you spoke to Taehyung was on Monday. He tried to reach out to you, but you didn’t bother to return any of his calls or texts. He only ever contacted you through phone and never at school which gave you the idea that he didn’t tell his friends anything.

You wanted to disappear into the back room, but you were already assisting his cousin and his friends.

“Hi, y/n.” Taehyung greeted quietly.

You gave the last cup of ice cream to one of the kids who then ran over to Mrs. Song.

“Hi.” It was instinct the way you grabbed a fourth cup to fill it up with chestnut praline ice cream. How were you supposed to enjoy this flavour when it now gave you bittersweet memories of summer?

“Y/n, I know you’re mad at me and you don’t have to say anything, but at least just listen to me.” Taehyung followed you from the other side of the counter as you walked from the ice cream casing to the register. “I let my pride get in the way because I didn’t tell my friends about you. It’s always been that way with Seo Joon and it’s so fucking annoying how I can’t put my foot down when it comes to him. Saying that makes me sound like I’m his bitch and I guess I am.”

You plucked the ten dollar bill out of his hand and listened, just as he instructed.

“I haven’t told him...yet…which is stupid, I know. You’re important to me and I haven’t been feeling like myself lately all because we haven’t been talking at all. It’s killing me, y/n.” Taehyung spoke as softly as possible, just enough for only you to hear. “I still really like you and I swear I’ll tell Seo Joon because you’re right, his opinion shouldn’t matter.��

You took the change out of the register and you didn’t even realize it, but you blinked away tears that surfaced at your water line. Words were getting caught up within your throat, threatening to burst out all at once. But now wasn’t the right time.

You laid his change out on the palm of your hand and as Taehyung took his change, his finger lingered to trace the lines that veined throughout your palm. He hung his head and failed to hide the sound of him sniffling.

“I admit my mistake and I’m just so sorry, y/n. I hope for you to forgive me one day.” Taehyung crumpled up his change inside of his receipt and stuffed it into his pocket. “Have a good day.”

“You too, Taehyung.” Your words were barely audible, but he still heard you.

With a blank expression, Taehyung gathered up his pack of children and made sure to give Mrs. Song the most cheerful smile he could muster up.

Not even a couple of feet away from Mrs. Song, Taehyung’s cousin asked Taehyung to retie his shoe laces because they were beginning to become undone. You walked over to Mrs. Song who was gently folding her napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth.

“You know, dear,” she began. “How about you try your chances with that young man who came in with his little friends? He seems like a nice boy.”

There was no point in explaining everything to Mrs. Song, so you just hummed and smiled at her. “He is, Mrs. Song.”

Without looking up from the counter, you could see Taehyung stand back up and you could feel his eyes burning towards you.

“How about it then, deary? I’ll introduce you two.” Mrs. Song suggested with confidence.

It difficult to hold back your tears in front of the ever-so-innocent Mrs. Song, but you had to grit your teeth and bear it.

“It’s okay, ma’am. I don’t think he’s interested in me.” You said sadly.

As much as you didn’t want to look at him, you finally lifted your chin to make eye contact with the regretful stare of Taehyung’s eyes. The intense contact was broken by his cousin, shaking Taehyung’s hand and telling him that they wanted to go to the park already.

As he turned his back to you, you physically felt the pain in the atmosphere. Who knows, maybe you were taking it to heart much harder than it needed to be. But if there was one thing that you knew for sure, it was that you were incredibly hurt about the fact that Taehyung had to hide your existence. He stared into your eyes as if he had no idea who you knew were.

You were furious, betrayed, and, with the lack of a better word, so fucking hurt by what happened. Being who you were, you also knew that there was no way you could stay mad at Taehyung forever. There was a sliver of hope for you to forgive him, but now wasn’t the time.

Taehyung was more than an entire summer of memories. He was an unexpected occurrence, like rain in a drought. He was your first text in the morning and your last text before going to bed. He became the reason for you to be excited to head to work, hoping for him to show up.

But the rain will stop falling, texts don’t get sent, work becomes a chore, and eventually, seasons end.

♡ rae

#bangtan boys #bts #taehyung #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #high school au #i am back #hi hello #how u doin #taetae #rae writes

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nitewrighter · 6 years ago

Text

Dragonback Pt. 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

AO3

----

The four of them managed to reach the river by the late afternoon and follow it upstream through various foothills and thickets until the sun set. They stopped near a pond, one that had been carved out probably by some Omnic-era blast and flooded. Nature had retaken the area, of course, made it look more natural than it really was, Setting up camp wasn’t too time consuming an affair. Aedan assumed the Shimadas would have a Vishkar Hard-light tent projector or something similar, but instead, they just set up their would-be campfire and their sleeping bags around it, under the stars, well, what would be stars, eventually. They ate a light but satisfying dinner of seasoned tofu, lentil, and chickpea-stuffed onigiri that Genji had apparently adapted from his time in the Shambali, and by the time they had cleaned up the full moon hung in the purple-gray light of dusk. Rei was standing at the edge of the pond, frowning at it, as Genji came up alongside her.

“So,” he said, folding his arms next to her, “How do you want to go about this?”

---

“Anything?” Genji called out as Rei floated in the middle of the pond on her back, wearing a plain navy one-piece.

“Nope,” said Rei, frankly feeling a little ridiculous being the only one in the water.

“Just... try and remember what Zenyatta taught you. Close your eyes, open your mind, take deep breaths, empty yourself of all distractions, all doubts, focus on your breathing, on the sound of the wind in the trees, let yourself--”

“Can you not narrate this?” said Rei.

“Right,” said Genji, “Sorry.”

Rei closed her eyes and floated on her back for a few more minutes. “Can you guys leave, actually?” she said after a long pause.

“Of course,” said Genji.

“That includes you too, Dad,” said Rei, flatly.

“Oh-of--Right. Of course,” said Genji as he walked off with Hanzo and Aedan to give her space.

Rei gave a glance back to the shore of the pond to see the three of them weren’t in sight, then took a breath in and closed her eyes.

---

“I’m messing this up,” Genji was pacing back and forth in a clearing a ways away from the pond, “I’m making it worse. I’m putting too much pressure on her---”

“To be fair, in all of our stories of all of our family, we’ve never heard of anything like this happening,” said Hanzo, “We don’t know how to deal with losing a dragon, because no dragon has ever been lost like this before.”

“..Never?” said Aedan, rolling his knuckles against his leg nervously.

Genji and Hanzo looked at Aedan as if they had both forgotten he was there.

Hanzo frowned but Genji stepped forward. “Well, Rei’s dragon hasn’t really behaved like previous dragons, either,” he said, pacing again, “I mean our leading theory is that Angela’s biotic spinal implants affected how Rei’s dragon would manifest itself when she was pregnant with Rei, but the truth is, we never really know what comes with the dragon’s manifestation. Hanzo’s and my dragons are actually some of the simplest manifestations. According to the stories, other members of the main branch have had dragons that can sense things beyond human perception, make their wielder invisible to the eye and mind, or even control the minds of opponents.”

“But these are just Father’s stories,” said Hanzo.

“Part of the reason the Shimada Clan’s empire stood so long was because it could do things no one else could do. The reason that it could do those things was the dragons.”

“But you still don’t know what the dragons are,” said Aedan, “Why they are.”

“We’ve tried,” said Genji, “Or at least Shimada before us have tried. I don’t know if you’ve noticed this particular generation of Shimada have been a bit busy fighting Talon and... our own clan. But we’re trying to understand it... as much as we can.”

“But if Rei can’t get it back... we may well never figure it out,” Aedan said quietly.

“I couldn’t imagine losing my dragon,” said Genji, “It... it must feel like being gutted. And I’ve been gutted.”

“Thanks,” Hanzo said flatly.

“Oh thank you,” said Genji, folding his arms.

Aedan just glanced back in the direction of the pond, unable to see anything through the thicket.

---

Rei stared up at the leaves framing the darkening sky, their green fading to dark blue against star-dotted lavender.

“I know you’re in there,” she said very quietly. She shut her eyes. “Please,” she whispered, “Please, please be in there.”

How did I do it the first time? she thought, How did it happen when I didn’t even know it was there?

“What if I don’t have it?” she remembered the smell of Shambali incense and the hum of the processors within the Sanctum.

“Then that’s fine,” she remembered the feeling of her father’s prosthetic hand on her cheek, “You’re your mother’s daughter too, and she never needed a dragon to do amazing things.”

“You summoned yours sooner--” she started,

“Because your grandfather pushed me and your uncle much harder than was healthy for any of us,” said Genji, “No matter what, Rei, you represent a new future for our family--something brighter, kinder. If we have to leave the dragons behind for that future, I’m fine with that.”

“I’m not fine with it,” Rei muttered.

“Oh? Why’s that?” said Genji.

“The dragons make us special,” Rei said quietly, “I know Mom’s special too, but...” she fidgeted with her hands, “But I’m not special like mom. And-and--if I’m supposed to be brighter, and kinder, maybe it’s my job to make the dragon that, too.”

Her father had smiled at this, his mouth tugging at the scars on his cheek. Rei had glanced down, but she felt her father’s finger’s trail under her chin and lift it slightly so she was facing him, “I think, dragon or no dragon, you’re already special. Whatever happens in this sanctum, you’ll be loved just as much as you always have. Are you ready?”

Rei nodded and Genji left her. She sat down cross-legged and closed her eyes, letting go of her distractions and...

And then what?

Rei opened her eyes and she was still floating in that pond, staring up at a starry sky.

“Some half-gaijin bastard shouldn’t even have the dragon,” the tattoo artist had said as the needle beat into her back. It wasn’t a tattoo gun, either. It had to be Tebori, the old way. The needle was being jabbed on the end of a black bamboo stick, the tattoo artist’s hand pressing hard against her back to keep her skin steady. Biotics at least sped up the process. Without them, getting a tattoo of this size and detail should have taken months. Rei remembered her uncle squeezing her hand. Genji couldn’t be there. They could accept a bastard of Hanzo, but there was no telling what they would do if they knew Genji was still alive.

“You won’t speak of her like that,” Hanzo had warned.

“I’ll speak however I damned please. I may hate the Shimada clan enough to help you with this, but that doesn’t mean I forget what it once stood for,” the Tattoo artist dabbed away some of the excess ink. Hours and hours had passed, short biotic-treatment breaks were taken, then more hours, more jabbing, before finally the tattoo artist had said, “Dammit.. I think this might be my best work...Hey kid. Make it count. Show me the dragon.”

Rei had peeled her cheek off of the plastic of the bench she was laying across and looked at Hanzo.

“Come on, kid--We’ve been at this for 20 hours,” the tattoo artist goaded, “You can at least summon it, can you? This isn’t some bullshit where you can walk in and get a pretty chrysanthemum or a Koi--”

“The Shimada Dragon is not a parlor trick,” Hanzo had interceded.

“I’d say it’s worth 20 hours of my goddamn life,” said the tattoo artist, “Come on kid...” he paused, “You can’t even do it, can you?”

The words were drying up in Rei’s throat. I used to. I used to. I loved it. It was beautiful. It was powerful. It was me. But instead her mouth just hung open helplessly.

“That’s enough,” Hanzo had said.

“Figures,” the tattoo artist scoffed, “Fucking gaijin...”

Rei opened her eyes and she was floating in the pond again. The sounds of night birds and insects bled into her hearing and she squeezed her eyes shut and pushed herself beneath the surface of the water, exhaling through her nose as she did so to keep the water rushing up it. She remembered herself as a little girl, sitting cross-legged in the Shambali sanctum, imagining herself in a vast dark space. The first feelings of something prickling and bright and warm coiling up inside her, an almost dizzy sensation radiating out from her solar plexus, a light ribboning around her arms.

I know you’re in there, she thought furiously, I know you’re in there. I know you’re in there. Please come back to me.

Like flexing a muscle that isn’t there, she remembered Aedan’s voice, Something that was always there that I just had to figure out how to call.

Except I could call it before, she thought, Now there’s just a dark and empty space where there once was this light and warmth and power and--oh scheisse I need to breathe.

Rei’s head broke the surface of the pond and she gasped, got a droplet of water in the back of her throat and then coughed, then cursed under her breath. “Stupid pond,” she muttered, swimming to the edge and then wading out.

---

Genji perked up at the sound of a twig snapping, then stood up from the log he was sitting on as Rei pushed through the thicket, her clothes on and her hair dripping wet.

“Rei--” he started but he read her face in an instant. His shoulders slumped slightly but he closed the distance between himself and his daughter in a few brisk steps, “It’s okay---” he started, moving to put a hand on her shoulder.

“No, Dad, it’s not!” Rei snapped, knocking his hand away, her voice was rippled by near sobs, “It’s not okay! I’m not okay! I’m--I’m---Something in me is broken, and--and--and the dragon won’t come as long as it’s like that and I don’t know how to fix it,” She stared at Genji for a few seconds before saying, “Or... or maybe that’s not it either. If--if the dragon didn’t come to broken things, you and Uncle wouldn’t be able to call it either. It just... it hates me. I--I died, so it won’t come back to me because it knows with me it could die. I’m not worthy of it. I’m not strong enough for it. And--and you keep saying it’ll come back. That it’ll be okay. That I just have to be patient. But I’m empty! I’m empty! I can’t do this!! I can’t keep doing this!!”

“Rei...” Genji started, but Rei just briskly walked away from him, sniffling.

Aedan moved to go after her but Hanzo put a hand on his shoulder. Aedan looked back at Hanzo in protest but there was a steadiness in Hanzo’s expression and Aedan instantly realized that there was nothing he had no idea what he could say to Rei to make things better.

---

“Zeroing in on the target’s location now,” said the Talon pilot.

“Hold position,” said Faustine, “Circle the target at an eight mile radius with the cloaking on. The trees should give us enough cover, but it’s too early in the evening for us to attack. We’ll take the target later in the night, catch him when he’s sleepy and disoriented.” Faustine leaned back in her seat slightly and looked over to Andrea, who was suiting up with the rest of her strike team, “Sound good to you?”

Andrea looked up from strapping on her combat layers. “You are my controller, aren’t you? You aren’t Reyes, but I will still defer to your decisions.”

“Well we’re partners, as well. You’re the one with 200 years of Mnemosyne-crammed martial knowledge in your head. If you have ideas for potential strategies I’d love to hear them.”

“Partners...” Andrea repeated.

“Well just because you’re fresh out the amnio-tank doesn’t mean you’re a child, obviously,” said Faustine.

Andrea blinked a few times and then glanced down as if confused.

“Have I said something that’s bothered or confused you?” asked Faustine.

Andrea shook her head. “I am used to Reyes as my controller. He tends to be more...” Andrea furrowed her brow thoughtfully.

“Controlling?” Faustine smiled.

Andrea nodded. “He... never told me I’m not a child,” she said.

“Well, you share half his DNA and he’s been shown to have a history of emotional compromise” said Faustine with an easy shrug.

“You don’t think I’m a child,” said Andrea, “Despite my artificial aging.”

“Well, the way I see it, we put Omnics out into combat when they’ve been functioning for only a few hours,” said Faustine. She held up her hand, turning it over to show the latticework of neuroprostheses on the back, “There’s never been a large distance between wires and flesh for me. Programming doesn’t make Omnics any less of people, why should we except you from that sentiment?”

Andrea tilted her head, weighing Faustine’s words.

“We’re partners here. We listen to each other,” said Faustine. She extended her hand, “Knight and Bishop?”

Andrea stared at Faustine’s hand, not really sure what she was being prompted to do. Faustine waited with her hand extended for a few seconds before grabbing Andrea’s hand, shaking it, and saying, “Knight and Bishop,” again.

“Knight and Bishop,” said Andrea, shaking Faustine’s hand hard enough to jostle her shoulder slightly.

---

Rei came back to the camp about an hour or so later, eyes puffy and bloodshot. They had the campfire going then, and had taken the time to set out her sleeping mat alongside it. Genji glanced up at her as she came into the light of the fire.

“If you need to talk about it...” his voice was gentle.

Rei shook her head.

“...We can head back to the Watchpoint in the morning,” Genji offered.

Rei nodded.

“All right,” said Genji. A long pause passed before he said, “It was really brave of you to do this. And I’m so proud of you for trying. And... and you’re still wonderful and amazing to me. You understand that, right?”

Rei looked up at the, her eyes glistening in the light of the campfire before she rubbed at them and looked down again. She gave a short, shy nod.

The campfire died down to embers, but the words stuck hard in Aedan’s mind. “I’m so proud of you for trying.” He couldn’t recall anything like that ever being said to him in Talon.

The night carried out in a quiet, muted manner. Aedan wondered if it would be more of a shouting session between Rei, her father and her uncle if he weren’t there, or if it was simply the exhaustion of the trip here and the following hike and the emotional exhaustion of Rei being unable to summon the dragon wiping everyone out.

Conversation was almost nonexistent as the four of them watched the embers of the fire die out. They each silently went to their own sleeping bags, forming a square around the low-burning campfire. Rei was the first one out. With Hanzo and Genji supposedly serving as a buffer between them, and the fire blocking most of her out from his vision. Her features rippled in the waves of heat, but still Aedan studied her face--thick, concerned eyebrows, furrowed against thick eyelashes. He wondered what she dreamt of until sleep swept over him, too.

He dreamt of his own hand pressing against the glass of the amnio-tank, the face of his mother through the haze of biotic amnio-fluid.

“I can give him everything I never had,” her voice was thick in his mind.

The face of Moira suddenly morphed into McCree as the yellow fluid of the amnio-tank and the glass suddenly phased into a wall of blue light between them.

“How many more of you are there?” McCree’s voice was like a pile of sharp rocks.

The words of Aedan’s own voice seemed muted, half drowned out to postulate and memory.

“There’s no others of you? You’re sure about that?” McCree’s fists suddenly slammed against the blue field.

“What makes you think you have any right to be here?” it was McCree’s voice but Aedan couldn’t recall the words in a memory. The world suddenly plunged into yellow again, his hand against the glass and that plane of glass separating Moira’s hand from his. He glanced down to see the inside of the tank slowly filling with a dense black liquid. He banged a fist against the glass but Moira’s hand only slipped away

“She’s a monster!” the glass shifted to the walls of an elevator, Rei was two feet from him in a yellow sundress, running her hands through her hair as the elevator was filling with the black liquid as well. It was around both their waists at that point, “She’s a Talon psycho!”

“So what does that make you?” Mercy, Hanzo, and McCree’s voice seemed to overtake Rei, the dense ink around his waist suddenly sloshed away and then Aedan was on his back, desperately crab-walking back from massive form of shadows.

“Nary a soul to be seen,” he could hear his own voice from the mass of shadow.

And then he was in the hangar. Rei was in his arms. Dead? No--no--no, he couldn’t go through this again---

“She’s gone, a thaisce,” he could hear his mothers voice, but no, he coudn’t accept that.

“Rei--” he shook her, “Rei--please--don’t leave me---”

Rei’s eyes flicked open, glistening ink-black, with black tears running down her face.

“You’re not alone,” her voice sounded drowned, strangled, wrong as black dripped from her mouth. Her hand clawed at his cheek and he woke with a start.

He always had a tendency towards nightmares, he figured it was a side effect of Mnemosyne being used on a developing brain, but they hadn’t been that bad in a while. There were a few seconds of soreness and disorientation as he sat up from his sleeping bag and looked around.

Camping. Right. Because I love camping, he thought, rubbing at his back, bitterly. Why did rocks always seem to find a way to poke up through the sleeping mat and jab him in the spine?

He could hear the soft snores of Hanzo and Genji’s slightly electrically warped breathing, but a shaft of moonlight shined down through a gap in the canopy on Rei’s empty sleeping bag. He stared at it for a few seconds. Probably using the bathroom? he thought, and then glanced over at the roll of toilet paper resting on top of one of their backpacks, Nope.

He blinked a few times then padded his hand around his sleeping bag for his flashlight, but he only managed to find his biotic rig next to it. Well, it would have to do. He unzipped his sleeping bag, then looped the straps over his shoulders and rolled his shoulders, prompting the biotic rig to unfold, the wires winding once around his arms and the biotic nodes clicking open at his palms. They had streamlined the technology for it significantly since his mother’s day, and his own physiology eliminated the need for a massive biotic tank in the back.

He flicked his wrist and a small yellow sphere of biotics alighted on his palm before he stood up and pulled his trainers on. He stepped off of the sleeping mat and a twig snapped under his foot. Hanzo grunted and Aedan immediately flinched and looked over his shoulder at the still-sleeping 50-something ninja stir, then his eyes flicked to Rei’s sleeping bag. Aedan decided it would probably best if Hanzo or Genji didn’t wake up to both him and Rei gone from their sleeping bags. He faded, decomposing his physical form into smoke and slipping away from the camp. He reformed, then became acutely aware of how sweaty his shirt was from his nightmare, relieved himself in some bushes (albeit awkwardly with one hand holding his biotic light source aloft), then made his way to the pond to clean up a bit.

He dimmed the biotic sphere off as he knelt at the water’s edge, rinsing his hands off. As his eyes adjusted to the lack of biotic light, he stared at the pond in the moonlight for a bit, the waxing gibbous reflected mirror-like on its surface. The whole ‘outdoors’ thing wasn’t so bad, he figured, all things considered. He shook his hands off then brushed a bit of the cold water on his forehead and the back of his neck to try and relieve the greasy, clammy feel of his own sweat, then flinched hard as a dark shape broke the surface of the water. A mass of black. He scrambled back but then two pale hands came out of the water alongside the black lump, and parted it. Aedan made out thick eyebrows, and eyelashes. It was Rei, tucking her dark hair away from her face and smoothing the water from her forehead. She hadn’t noticed him. He got up from the pond’s edge as quietly as he could. Well she wanted privacy last time so--

He moved to walk away and another twig snapped beneath his foot.

“Scheisse—!” she splashed the water around herself with a start and her head jerked toward Aedan, “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry, you just… weren’t in your sleeping bag so…” Aedan trailed off, “You’re trying it again.”

“Yes, I’m trying it again. Go back to sleep,” said Rei, turning away from him.

“I mean, I would, but it’s really not safe, swimming alone at night,” said Aedan.

“Well if I get into trouble, maybe the dragon will help me,” said Rei, “Go back to sleep.”

“I’m—I’m sorry did I say something wrong? Is this some kind of ninja ��I need to do this alone’ thing or—”

“Aedan I’m skinny-dipping,” Rei said flatly.

“Oh god—” Aedan immediately turned around and Rei just snickered.

“It’s fine, I know you didn’t see anything,” she said.

“Well I have no intention of… seeing anything. I—I didn’t set out with the intention of seeing anything, and I’m just going to continue not seeing anything,” Aedan stammered. He paused for a few seconds, “Can I ask why you’re skinny-dipping?”

“Same as I said earlier: Trying it again,” said Rei, “I guess I thought, ‘Maybe I need to humble myself about it.’ Get more… primal or primordial about it, you know? Maybe the dragon’s seeing me with all these modern trappings and preconceptions of self and it’s not having it, so I should just…” she trailed off, “Admittedly it seemed like a much better idea when I was half-asleep.”

Aedan was quiet, his back still to the pond and her. “Um--I--You told me to go, right?”

“Well... I mean if you’re up and out, anyway...” Rei said, “Just... keep not-looking, I’m getting out.”

Aedan put a hand over his eyes just to be safe as he heard the soft sloshing of water. “Wait--” Aedan said after a few seconds, “So... it didn’t work?”

“Well I guess... when I see myself in relation to the dragon,” Rei toweled herself off, “Like... in my head, I don’t have clothes--and I guess it was stupid and desperate to think, ‘Oh I should get naked’ rather than the more obvious answer which is...” she grunted as she shimmied into her sweatpants, “The dragon doesn’t see clothes, so it doesn’t even make a difference if I’m naked or not. It’s stupid. I was stupid.” She pulled her ‘Glitchbot Studios LTD’ shirt over her head.

“You’re not stupid,” said Aedan, he snorted. “You’re... probably the bravest person I know.”

“Bravest?” Rei repeated, toweling out her hair.

“Well, I mean, only you would go skinny dipping when literally the only people who could walk in on you for miles around are either your father, your uncle, or me--”

“You?” Rei arched an eyebrow, stepping in front of him and smiling as he still stood there, hand over his eyes.

“You know... me,” said Aedan gestured with his free hand.

Rei tilted her head with some smug expectant expression. The silence from her only made Aedan more nervous.

Aedan could feel his ears burning. “I mean--There’s a thing, right? With us? I’m not crazy? There’s this...thing?”

“‘Connection?’” Rei guessed the word.

“Yes--C-connection,” Aedan nervously ran his free hand through his hair--God, he needed a haircut.

Rei glanced down at the ground beneath her feet and stepped forward tentatively, soundless against soft dirt, no crunching of leaves or snapping of sticks. Aedan’s hand was still over his eyes. She could kiss him now, if she wanted to. She kind of wanted to, but she wasn’t sure how fair that would be to him. If she spoke now that would give away how close she was. She leaned forward slightly, catching her own breath so he wouldn’t feel it on his lips before pulling back and thinking better on it, stepping backwards. Then he started talking again.

“I mean---That’s--that’s not what I’m here to talk about--I mean, granted I didn’t really come out here expecting to talk about anything. But--I guess as long as we’re here... I’m sorry.”

“For what?” said Rei.

“For getting your hopes up,” said Aedan, “It wasn’t fair to you. I just... I guess I wanted it to fix things, too.”

“It’s okay,” said Rei, “I... I know I’ve been angry and bitter this whole time but... It really does mean a lot to me to be spending time out here with you and Dad and Uncle...” she trailed off.

“You can come back, you know,” Aedan said quietly, “I mean, dragon or no, you were always... one of the strongest, most quick-thinking, most capable people I’ve ever met. If you’re not in Overwatch because you don’t think you’re good enough without it---”

“I get it,” said Rei, “I don’t know if I’m ready to do that, but... thank you, Aedan.”

“Also I’m sorry for walking in on you skinny-dipping, I swear I didn’t see anything--”

“Aedan... I’m decent,” said Rei.

Aedan brought his hand away from his eyes and he instantly flinched at how close she was.

“...Oh...” he managed.

“What was that you were saying earlier?” Rei leaned in a little closer, “About a connection?”

“I---” Aedan swallowed hard, “I--I was kind of rambling. You know me. I ramble.”

“Uh-huh...” said Rei, leaning in.

“I should... probably... learn to shut up... once in a while,” said Aedan, tucking a bit of Rei’s wet hair behind her ear.

“Maybe,” said Rei, her own fingertips brushing along his jaw as her other hand took hold on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, stooping his neck slightly to angle his face towards her more. Stupid O’Deorain height. She pushed up slightly onto her tiptoes, felt his breath against her lips and then...

Rei heard a heard a twig snap. She glanced over Aedan’s shoulder to see smoke amassing.

“Rei?” Aedan opened his eyes as he realized he was being left hanging but Rei suddenly seized the front of his shirt and tackled him down to damp soil as a ‘K-CHK’ was heard and the tree right behind where they had just been standing shattered to splinters with shotgun fire.

Rei recovered quickly from the dirt, hauling Aedan up to his feet alongside her.

Standing there in the moonlight was a figure clad in the black, white, and red armor of Talon. The sides of her head were shaved and her remaining long dark hair was tied up in a bun. Her face was covered by glowing red-lensed tactical goggles and a black mask with white skeletal teeth painted on it.

“Subject Six,” she spoke before cocking the shotgun one-handed.

#Reidan #Experiment R76 #follow for more gency kid facts #moiraspawn #pending Faustine tag

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