#it was hard but I enjoyed it... preddy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

skinsharpenedteeth · 3 years

Text

So... I wrote a little ficlet about Alex's reaction to finding out he's being deployed to Iraq for the first time. It's dark, angst, and littered with self destructive thoughts and actions so... "dead dove: do not eat" I suppose. Also on AO3!

*÷*÷*÷*

"Wasted"

Cw: alcohol, drugs, depression

Rated: M, 1931 words.

...

It was March and cool outside (as cool as south Texas ever got). The walls of the house shook around Alex as he laid on an airbed on top of the coats of his squad mates. The coatroom was quiet compared to the rest of the house. They’d just received their deployment orders going to Iraq for six months so they were throwing their last bash before heading out. Outside the dark bedroom, his squad mates partied like it was their last night on Earth...and it could be one of their few left if things went sideways. Everyone was feeling untethered and wild. Booze was everywhere and Alex had taken a few bars from the bag of prescription party-pills he kept stashed for such occasions. He felt like a character in Alice in Wonderland, but he needed to keep himself from getting out of control. He had secrets he needed to keep and booze could make him chatty and handsy in the wrong situations. Now, however, he felt tired and floaty and the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling of the bedroom swirled slightly as the spins set in.

The stars reminded him of Michael. He thought about laying in the back of his truck watching the stars after sex. He could remember the feeling of sweat drying on his naked skin, the way the dry desert air made his breath loud and his voice hoarse after they’d been together, and the hard metal slats of the truck bed digging into his back despite the layers of blankets they used as a makeshift mattress. Alex could almost taste the secondhand Squirt and tequila on his tongue. Had that been only a year ago?

Alex’s stomach lurched as the spins took a violent twist and he swallowed thickly around the flood of saliva in his mouth. The odd numb, burning sensations on either side of his jaw alerted him that if he didn’t act fast, he’d be cleaning everyone’s coats. He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly let it out his mouth, trying to control his gag reflex and diaphragm. After a few breaths, his stomach seemed to settle, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t last. Carefully, he rolled onto his hands and knees (overcorrecting only a little at the unexpected lurch of the inflatable mattress). He looked up and eyed the door that he knew led to a small en suite bathroom. It was about five feet away. If he moved slowly, he could make it without vomiting on the carpet.

The cool linoleum of the floor felt good against his palms as he crawled into the small closet of a bathroom. He pushed up the toilet lid and seat before letting himself slump against the cool wood cabinets. Light from the street shone into the bathroom and gave him enough illumination to be disgusted. This was Reyes and Phillips’s house, and it was obvious they’d never used a Clorox wet wipe in their lives. The smell of wet porcelain and dry urine made Alex’s stomach lurch again, but he clamped his teeth together and swallowed against his body’s urge to purge. He could wait it out.

“Hey, Manes!” Tyler yelled from the hallway. He banged his fist against the bedroom door and Alex cringed further into the bathroom, trying to hide from the noise and the inevitable wave of drunken airmen. “If you’re passed out, we’re going to put our balls in your mouth. The whole fucking squad’s!”

Alex only had a second to appreciate the irony of how much he might enjoy that before the door banged open in the bedroom and the volume was suddenly turned up from 7 to 11. A few seconds later, the harsh yellow bathroom light blinded Alex’s vision for a second before he looked up and focused on the figures in the doorway. Tyler, Reyes, and Williams stood crammed in the frame all grinning down at him like loons.

“Did you vomit, Manes?” Tyler asked in a vicious tone. Alex shook his head, feeling miserable as he did so, and also like he might be falling, but he was pretty sure his body hadn’t moved.

“Good! Airmen don’t vomit. We cherish our liquor and don’t waste it. Get the fuck up, you’re missing the party!” Tyler seemed to yell. Alex shook his head again and started to speak, but was interrupted by the three pairs of hands hauling him off the bathroom floor and manhandling him from the bedroom.

“We’ll get you sobered up enough for round three. Come on, man!” Williams yelled. Alex was almost blind to the swirling lights and figures around him. When he stumbled and ended up on his hands and knees on the floor, he felt hands pulling him up again. Then he was being carried. With Reyes at his feet, that left Tyler and Williams on his arms to carry him. The cold rush of early spring air swirled around him as they carried him outside. He had a split second to register the undulating white and aqua light of the pool before he was airborne towards it. His body remembered for him that he wanted to hold his breath, but even so as the frigid water surrounded him he lost it in a great bubble of air. He sank until his feet hit the bottom of the pool, and then he was pushing off and propelling upward. He spluttered and coughed when he felt air on his face. He turned and glared at the whooping, laughing group at the edge of the pool.

“Still feel like yakking?” one of them yelled.

“CANNONBALL!” another screamed and then three of his squad were jumping into the pool too. Alex wiped off the water from his face that their entrances had splashed onto him and swam towards the wall. He clung on and tried to reorient himself. He even managed a weak smile for one of the guys when they swam past him. He felt numb. His fingers were stiff and clumsy and he was shivering against the pool wall.

“Come on, Manes! It’s a party!” Phillips chided as he swam up beside Alex and clung to the wall too. He paused and studied Alex’s face before his tone sobered. “How fucked up are you?”

“Preddy… pretty fucked,” Alex managed to slur out.

“Booze and…?” Phillips asked quietly. It was no secret most of the guys added to their partying experience with other illicit substances. Phillips didn’t. He was a little older than the rest of them and tended to mother hen.

“Bars. Just a couple. I’m fine,” Alex lied, even as he shivered violently in the water.

“Sure. Go ahead and go back inside. Take the main bathroom. Lock the door and take a warm shower. I’ll keep everyone here for a while. You might grab a handful of pretzels on your way through the living room, yeah?” he suggested, trying to keep eye contact with Alex whose focus was wandering over the crystalline waves of the surrounding pool.

“Sure,” Alex replied a little breathier than normal.

“Do I need to escort you?” Phillips asked, adding some authority to his voice that drew Alex’s attention back to him.

“No. No, I’m fine. I’ll just get out and go take a shower. Like you said,” he managed. Phillips watched his face in concern for another minute before giving him a brief nod.

“On your way, then, airman,” Phillips said briskly, tone light but eyes continuing to assess Alex’s condition. Taking a deep breath, Alex grabbed the edge of the pool and managed to haul himself out of the water. His body felt like it weighed three times its normal weight. He sat on the edge for a moment, catching his breath as the cold night air immediately attacked what little warmth the water had helped his body keep. Teeth chattering slightly, he pushed up to stand and staggered back towards the house, water dripping off of him in sheets. Some part of him that was still human paused before going into the house and pulled his sodden shirt away from his body to wring it out before entering the house.

The heat of the surrounding house was almost oppressive once he finally slid the glass patio door shut behind him. Music still blared through the speakers and the smart, more sober half of his squad was still inside drinking. Alex’s eyes swept around the room, but he didn’t take in a single face. He started moving, legs jerking awkwardly, towards the part of the house where the main bedroom was. He paused in the kitchen to take Phillips’ advice and grab a handful of pretzels and a Bud Light before continuing on his journey. Alex heard a few of the guys call his name as he opened the bedroom door, but he waved them off before shutting it firmly behind him.

He found himself in another dark room, but this one with a proper bed and no coats. Alex shoved some pretzels in his mouth and tried to ignore how they seemed to expand and turn to glue on his tongue. He flicked on the bedroom light and lurched towards the open bathroom doorway. The bathroom was modest and relatively clean unlike the one he’d been found in earlier. He set down the beer and pretzels on the counter and started to peel the wet fabric of his clothes from his body. When he was naked, he turned on the water to warm up and returned to the counter to drink his beer and eat his remaining pretzels. He caught his reflection in the mirror.

The military had stripped any remaining baby fat from his frame. Well, that and learning to be a functioning alcoholic. Alex knew aesthetically he looked good, even with the shaved head. He was lean and toned and trained to move in quick, decisive movements. He looked exactly like the son his father had always wanted. He looked like a clone of ten other guys on his squad. He was nobody in the military. Alex had lost the one thing he’d always fought for: his sense of identity.

“I want to be with you, but not if you’re wasting your life, ya know?”

His own words echoed distantly. He stared into his own face and saw how tired he looked, how sad, how… empty. And now he was going to war. He was another nameless, faceless body ready to die for a cause he didn’t fully understand or stand behind. Because he had to get away from his father. Because he had to save himself by turning into something he wasn’t. More hiding.

“You’re going to die out there. No one will mourn you, because no one will know you there. The last person who loved you--” Alex cut himself off and sighed. He downed the rest of his beer in a single, long swallow before crumpling the can and throwing it into the sink. He turned and slid his hand along the wall as he made the few steps to the edge of the shower. Pushing back the curtain, he climbed into the tub and immediately laid down, letting the stinging spray beat on his chest and stomach. Alex closed his eyes and thought again, You’re going to die over there. You’re going to die. You’re going to die. You’re going to die.

He drifted off with the warm water turning cool against his skin. He thought of what a waste this was. He’d made the wrong decision.

#alex manes #rnm ficlet #ficlet #rnm lost decade #lost decade fic #cw: depression #cw: alcohol #cw: drugs

6 notes · View notes

wind0wg0blin · 5 years

Note

Could I request some hcs on like, your pred bf/gf loses a battle (over you or not) and 100% expects you to leave them for the stronger yautja and when you dont they freak out? (IM SO SORRY IF ITS SO SPECIFIC? Fuck I couldnt put it in a simple waayyy, do what you feel like aaaa)

[Here’s what I could come up with!]

[We are gonna call your bf/gf Preddy btw]

You had only been in a relationship with Preddy for about a month when you met another Yautja who absolutely dwarfed Preddy. You had met this new yautja when you were out waiting for Preddy to show up for a date.

When Preddy showed up seeing the other Yautja trying to steal away your attention they were furious. [Not at you obviously]

Storming forward they forced their way in between you and the new yautja snarling flaring their mandibles. Preddy had expected that this little huff and puff show would be enough to deter them from you but when the other Yautja returned the gesture they new they were gonna have to fight.

Despite your protesting neither of the two listened to you as they circled each other snapping and snarling like ravenous dogs. Before you could say or do anything they lunged at each other Preddy getting slammed on their back just from being completely out sized by this new yautja.

Preddy had braced for the incoming slam but hearing you cry out for them caused them to lose their form taking the full force of the hard ground and the crushing weight of the Yautja now kneeling on their chest.

You watched in horror as the new yautja beat the hell out of Preddy. With unrelenting force he new yautja punched Preddy until their lip busted and face bloodied with green blood.

Unable to bare seeing Preddy suffering like this you ran forward and threw yourself over them telling the new yautja to back off.

Shocked both at your intrusion both of the preds backed away staring at you with wide eyes. Neither of them had ever heard of or seen a potential mate interrupt a dispute before to save the weaker mate.

You would clasp Preddy’s face in your hands crying as you wiped the green blood from his cheek. You were so upset your words were incomprehensible as Preddy held you tyring to calm you down.

The other yautja bowed his head to Preddy knowing he had been bested by the soft hearts of human kind. He disappeared leaving Preddy alone with you.

The both of you went home where you cleaned up Preddy demanding that they never do something like that again and you know its traditional for them but its not for you and you both should’ve just asked instead of going crazy! Preddy just smiled and pressed their face into your hand listening to you ramble on.

Preddy while a bit sore from getting the shit knocked outta them, was still happy knowing that even though they weren’t the strongest they were still loved

[Hope you enjoyed!]

#predator #predator imagines #predator x reader #yautja #yautja imagines #yautja x reader #yautja x human

2K notes · View notes

mensajeroseis · 4 years

Note

Thots on Outer Worlds ??

she rings my cowbell preddy hard.

serious answer : I hate using the phrase, “spiritual fallout successor” to describe it, obv I’ll give it to Leonard Boyarsky n Tim Cain for being the OG creators to fallout ; I just find it lame and artistically disrespectful to relate it to the big franchise that they had previously created, that is owned by another studio currently. (which is having a rough time PR wise obv, and it just feels overtly catty to mention “spiritual successor” that way also) I also want to say, I feel they moved on from viewing Fallout as their “child” now, considering Boyarsky said this was his dream game to make.

I find TOW, to be an over decade combination of all previous works they’d created, like think of Troika Games, and their work at other studios. This includes fallout obv, there’s obvious improvements to things originally in FO1 & 2, V:TM. More expansive concepts, etc. You can probably gleam mechanics from the 3D fallouts and relate them to be new and improved in TOW, but, idk I find them to be pretty standard for RPG/OW games wrt most other games in the genre now. However it’s smooth, inventive/innovative with concepts that are seen as “common” now and turned them interesting again. Interesting battle pace / strategics wrt to the TTD, takes some getting used to, and more awareness of your surroundings + enemies than vats (i know fallout comparison but obv the closest thing yeah yeah). I think that’s swell, because it’s more interactive for the player (thinking..good)

Love the writing, feels incredibly natural and vibrant. NPCs feel like real folks. Shout out the voice actors / voice over director(s) + producer(s) for that. Enjoy the companions especially, all of them have their quirks and I find them all likeable, with their varying moral inclinations + beliefs. Spices it up yeah. I love when they add to conversations.

I like all the character/creature designs, each setting/planet is fun to explore and just look at. World building is genuinely interesting and not a drag, like say, Dragon Age’s sometimes. No milquetoast wishy washy shit, save for if you’re that type of person lol…

Haven’t put an incredible amount of hours into it, due to work. Only about 9 so far. And I’m taking my time with the game, doing all side quests and stuff. I’ve heard complaints, that people don’t like how short it is. Something about just focusing on the main storyline and sidequests linked to it, brings it to 9hrs actually, but I think that’s fine lol. You don’t have to make your game incredibly long to have it be enjoyed, making your game long can be a detriment sometimes. TOW had a story/theme, and they delivered it, bow and all. Gamers are just jack offs.

SO there’s my thoughts

#Anonymous

11 notes · View notes

jengis-morrangis · 5 years

Text

With Age Comes Wisdom

Howdy all! This is the first fic I’ve posted so I decided to kick it off with something light and fluffy. This story in particular isn’t really cesty but eyy there’s more stories to come. I’ve got a few other ideas I’ve been working on for a while that I’ll hopefully be posting soon. I got my wisdom teeth removed a while back and decided to write a little story related to it. Enjoy the fic!

“Alright sweetie, I trust you with this, but make sure your brother doesn’t mess with the stitches in his mouth or do anything that might hurt himself. And be sure to change out his gauze regularly and that he gets plenty of rest.” Ms. Pines said worriedly over the phone.

“Don’t worry, mom. You can count on me to watch after Sir Dippington. But can I have tell him to do the lamby-lamby dance while he’s on the anesthetic? Just once?”

“Mabel!”

“Just joking.” She said assuringly. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye on him.”

“Alright. And Mabel, be careful around him when he’s on the anesthetic. He might stumble or fall if he loses balance, and since he’s bigger than you he’ll be hard to adjust. Just make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”

“He’ll be fine, mom. I promise.”

Mabel heard her mother sigh over the phone. “Okay. I love you, sweetie.”

“I love you too, mom.” Mabel hung up the phone and put it in her pocket. She looked around the neat waiting room to find a pile magazines messily stacked on one another. She picked one up at random and started to read. Since it would take Dipper several days to recover, it was agreed that he would get his wisdom teeth removed at the start of spring break to assure he wouldn’t miss any school.

She was flipping between articles when a nurse walked out and told her they were done with the surgery. She put the magazine down and followed the nurse back into the room to find Dipper woozily looking around the room. He closed his eyes and passed out, causing the doctor to tap him on the arm to wake him up, only for him to fall back asleep. Mabel walked up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. He opened his eyes wide, and gave her a smile of bloody teeth and swollen cheeks. “Hey dea Maubel.” He tried to say.

“Hey there, Dip Dop.” She giggled.

Mabel sat down in a chair next to him as he continued to wake up. “Goss Maubel, you look show preddy.” He said with an awestruck look.

Mabel felt herself blush slightly from the look on Dipper’s face. It was clear that he really meant it from how amazed he was. She knew from what she’s been told that the anesthetic they administer makes people more talkative. He began playing with her hair as she sat next to him, twirling her chestnut locks around his index finger and pinching it between his thumb as the doctor briefed her on what they had to do to ensure he would heal properly and what precautions to take. She had to force herself to focus on what the doctor was saying with Dipper twirling her hair. Once he was finished with his directions, the doctor gave her extra rolls of gauze and medication, as well as Dipper’s wisdom teeth in a sealed container. She thought they would make a great addition to a friendship bracelet for Dipper, but realized that he likely wouldn’t appreciate it.

She helped Dipper to his feet and thanked the medical professionals as they departed from the office. She guided him all the way to the car and buckled him into the passenger seat.

The drive home gave Dipper plenty of time to yammer on about nothing in particular. Mabel thought it was adorable when he complimented her about how cute she was or how much he loved her sweater. There was a lot that she couldn’t understand through his mouth full of gauze, but she nodded and agreed with whatever he said to humor him. Partway through the drive, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called a friend from school to apologized for something minor he said when they were eleven that his friend didn’t remember, before Dipper told him he was busy and that he had to go. He must have forgotten that he was the one who called and not the other way around. She made sure to record him in case he wanted to see it later, or for blackmail material. Maybe both.

Upon their arrival home, Mabel turned off the car and came around the other side to help Dipper out. He stumbled at first, but she managed to help him and the way up the steps and into his room, where he promptly took off his shoes and flopped down on his bed. Mabel wrestled his legs onto the bed and wrapped his comforter around him. She lowered the blinds over the windows before giving him a kiss on the forehead as she tucked him in. She left his room and made herself some eggs and sriracha for breakfast, since it was only around 9AM and they left before eating. She made sure to feed Waddles and Mittens, and give them some attention before starting on her chores. In not too long, she cleaned the dishes and started a load of laundry, along with several other tasks before she decided to take a short nap.

She dreamed that she was in an old-timey cartoon, whistling as she steered a steamboat down a river. A growing vibration in the world slowly tore her boat apart, but she was at peace with it as she started to float with the shreds that remained. Someone must have turned off the gravity.

She awoke from a consistent subtle thumping downstairs, and could tell from the vibrations in the walls that it was the cleaning cycle ending on the washing machine. She stretched out her limbs and tiredly stood up to investigate the source of the ruckus. Walking down the hallway, she could see Dipper’s door was open and he was gone from his previous place on his bed.

She descended the steps in search of her brother. The kitchen and living room were empty. She assumed he must have been in the bathroom upstairs, as she realized the door was closed. She decided to move the load of laundry into the dryer. As she approached the laundry room, she heard a faint whimpering that grew louder as she approached. When she opened the door, she was met with the sight of her brother, collapsed on the laundry room floor on his knees, sobbing as he shifted through the sopping wet laundry from the machine.

“Maubel! Maubel, whea ah you?” He cried through his gauze. Mabel felt her heart swell. Even in his current state he is still trying to be the protective brother and make sure she was safe.

She walked over to him and he notice her legs out the corner of his eyes. “Hep me loog for Maubell! Pleath!” He sobbed, not looking up to see who the legs belonged to. Mabel bent her knees, coming down to his level and turned his face to look him in the eyes. He paused for a moment, and his sobs became quiet. After a moment of processing the situation, he wrapped her in an exhausted hug and his sobs became louder, but not as loud as before. He leaned his weight on her, bringing her to the floor and cried on her shoulder. “Oh my god, Maubel! I taught I would nevah she you again! Am tho glad yuh okay!” He cried with relief. Mabel felt her mouth curl up into a wide smile. For some reason she thought it was really sweet of him to look for her and make sure she was safe, despite the mess.

After several minutes of letting him cry, Mabel carefully led him back upstairs and helped him change into a dry and clean pair of pajamas. She tucked him in again and waited until he was asleep to go back downstairs and clean up the mess of water pooling in the laundry room and loading the wet clothes into the dryer. She was surprised by how exhausted she was as she changed into a dry pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, since she was wearing her pajamas when Dipper gave her that sopping wet hug.

She went back into Dipper’s room to be sure he was asleep. She knelt down by the side of his bed, kissed him on the forehead and he hummed in response. She stood up to walk out and sleep when she felt Dipper tug on her hand. She looked down to see him shaking his head with his eyes still shut. “Pleath done go, Maubel.” He moaned. Mabel giggled in response. He was so sweet like this. He was always so protective of her, wanting to make sure no harm came to her, and here he just wanted to be close to her and make sure she was okay.

“It’s alright, Dip. I’m not going anywhere.” She assured as she slipped under the comforter, facing him and wiggled under his arms, which he wrapped protectively around her. She giggled as he planted a puffy-cheek kiss on her cheek and pulled her closer.

“I lub you, Maubel.” Dipper said tiredly before drifting off into sleep.

“I love you too, you big dork.” Replied Mabel as she wrapped her arms around his larger frame and snuggled her head into the crook of his neck, feeling his chin on her forehead. She knew soon they’d have to wake up, change his gauze and give him the antibiotics, but for now she could just enjoy cuddling time and think about how excited she was for when she had to get her wisdom teeth removed, and he would have to look after her.

#Pinecest #myfics

62 notes · View notes

suitcasetales · 4 years

Text

Finding Adventure Despite a Pandemic

We know we are a part of the lucky minority. From the greater world to the world right around us, people have struggled under the weight of this pandemic. But other than a few anxious days of working in an eerily quiet hospital while awaiting a tidal wave of COVID19 patients that never came, only our social life and our travel calendar have suffered. [note: We are still caring for many COVID19 patients at our hospital but fortunately, we have not been overwhelmed.]

We have missed races (volunteering and participating), festivals (volunteering and participating), a 4-country vacation to Europe (re-scheduled but cancelled a second time), a family wedding in England (postponed a year) and independent visits to our widowed parents. Janet has immensely missed going to her gym for workouts and Zumba classes and was getting really bored at home by herself. She contacted a local rescue group and made known our willingness to foster a dog. Long story short, to probably no one’s surprise, we ended up adopting her.

One day at the hospital, Janet overheard some co-workers talking about renting a cabin at Lydia Mountain in Greene County, just 5 miles shy of the Swift Run Gap entrance station to Shenandoah National Park. At the time we made our reservation, the Park remained closed but we thought we would take our chances. We were happy just to get away and knew we would be even more socially distanced than had we stayed in Richmond and we thought it would be a gentle intro to traveling for Cokie.

Armed with ready-to-bake croissants from Whisk, a chocolate bar cake from Ukrop’s bakery and a truck full of this-and-that, off we went Friday afternoon. When we passed through Gordonsville, we stopped at the BBQ Exchange, open for take-out only, and bought a beef brisket family meal which would feed us for two nights.

As we turned off of Route 33, the pavement ended and we bumped and rattled our way to our cottage. We unloaded the truck, barricaded the deck exit so Cokie wouldn’t escape and hit the hot tub. Oh yeah, all the rentals at Lydia Mountain have hot tubs!

Lucky for us, Shenandoah National Park began Phase One of re-opening on Saturday. After enjoying a fresh croissant with jam, we entered the Park around 10am, surprised to see no line at the entry gate and headed north. We saw a few cars parked at the Byrd visitor center at Big Meadows and stopped there, hoping, but pretty certain we would be disappointed, that the bathrooms would be open. Making no sense at all, the visitors center was closed, the men’s and women’s bathrooms were closed but the one, single “family restroom” was open. Who knows how many people used that one restroom that day! Let’s just hope there will be no need for contact tracing.

We had to choose our hike carefully because some of the more popular trails were not open yet since they would have been way too crowded and some did not allow dogs. We drove a mile further north and parked at a scenic overlook where we just had to cross the road to access the Rose River Fire Road. It was a beautiful warm and sunny morning and the three of us couldn’t be happier to be out in it. The birds were singing, the wildflowers blooming and the streams a-trickling. A mile in on the fire road, we were at the bottom of the 70-foot Dark Hollow Falls — and they were far from trickling. After all the rain in Central Virginia this week, they were thunderous. Not Yosemite thunderous, but for the east coast, pretty darn impressive.

Crossing over the Rose River, we joined the Rose River Loop Trail and the “fun” really began! The trail descended right along the river and it was narrow, rocky, “rooty,” muddy and in some places, downright wet. At times there was nothing to do but to follow Cokie straight through the puddles! It was a beautiful hike — I kept stopping to take pictures, knowing that no photograph could capture the magic.

Raccoon skull right in the middle of the trail.

Eventually, we bottomed out and crossed a footbridge to begin our ascent. We passed an older, solo hiker who asked us if were headed toward the Rose RIver Falls and we said we reckon we were and he said he had never seen them so full. This section was a lot drier — not dry, by any means, but drier — and steep at times but still the birdsong, the comforting sound of falling water and sunshine was ever-present. The trail passed by the top of the 67-foot Rose River Falls, so a different perspective from Dark Hollow Falls. After 5.2 miles, we gave up a good parking spot and were happy to be leaving as there were just too many people around, not wearing masks, not socially distancing and making us nervous.

Just a few roots — watch your step!

The lip of the falls.

Interesting fungi.

And I love moss.

Back at the cabin, we had to put up an umbrella (we took our “Sport-brella” with us) so we didn’t get sunburned enjoying the deck. We read, we chilled, we took turns in the new hammock and we listened to the birds and the comforting sounds of the nearby creek. We left the cottage door open and Cokie wandered in and out all afternoon; I think we confused her by sitting outside. I had hopes that a bear might stroll by but no visits from the wild. Eventually we had the second round of our BBQ and a very welcoming soak in the hot tub before moving indoors to work on a jigsaw puzzle and listen to “The Moth” podcasts.

Sunday morning, we got an even earlier start, entering the Park before 9 (again, no line) and snagging one of the last legal parking spaces at the South River Overlook. The large picnic area and parking lot at the trailhead remained barricaded during Phase One of reopening. The view from the overlook was clear, the sunshine warm and we knew we were in for another good treat. The profile of the South River Falls Loop is typical of a lot of the trails in Shenandoah, a big “V.” The descent was steep and hard on the ol’ hips and knees but not until we bottomed out did it get sloppy.

The distant view of the South River Falls from the overlook was impressive and showed us we were no where near the bottom of the mountain.

But thankfully, the onward trail just followed the contour for about a quarter of a mile. Instead of retracing our steps, we chose instead to come back a longer way but a more gentle climb along a fire road.

As we hiked, the sun disappeared and the fog rolled in. By the time we arrived back at the truck to leave, our sight line was dangerously short.

We did drive out of the heavy fog bank within a mile or so but were feeling right smart to have gotten up early, hiked in sunshine and saw the line of about 15 cars entering the Park as we were exiting.

Back at the cottage, the weather turned on us, getting more and more cloudy and eventually raining. Our friends Carol and Barbara, residents of Stanardsville, came over to meet Cokie in a socially distanced visit on the deck. The rain was never heavy and didn’t prevent us from grilling hot dogs and corn on the cob on the charcoal grill later. And rain or no rain, after a massive and successful effort to finish our jigsaw puzzle,nothing was going to stop us for another soak in the hot tub!

Monday morning, we packed in a light rain and bid adieu to Lydia Mountain. When we got back to the Route 29 intersection, we turned south and headed to Preddy Creek Trails Park, an Albemarle County property. The sun was back out and the trails quite busy but we had our masks with us and did pretty good passing people, some cyclists and even a couple of horses.

Then it was time to head back to Richmond, but not before another stop in the town of Gordonsville. No barbecue this time -- the Exchange had plenty of business on Memorial Day — but a visit to a bakery, Krecek Kakes, for take-out sandwiches. We were home by 3:00, giving us plenty to time to unpack and dry out all our wet items.

I know it was only a short trip but it was a welcome change. Cokie adjusted well to the changes, too, but we have quickly figured out that you don’t bribe this dog with food, you bribe this dog with a hike! And for making that easy, we thank Shenandoah National Park for re-opening the trails, just for us.

0 notes

bluekyun · 7 years

Text

City Lights

Pairing: Y O O N G I x R E A D E R

Genre: F L U F F & A N G S T

Word Count: 7.033

Summary: Min Yoongi is the one man in your life who you love unconditionally, despite having ended your relationship a month prior. It’s not until you spot him at a nightclub do you realize that maybe it wasn’t a great idea to go out after all.

Rating: PG-13

The moonlight shining upon the puddles littered on the desolate street of your neighborhood become your sole source of entertainment, as nothing but darkness and homeless cats seem to be roaming at this hour. It isn’t that late, mind you, as it is only a quarter past eleven, but considering you haven’t left your room in what feels like an eternity, so used to falling asleep by nine, you suppose that this will be a late night for you.

Street lights hang brightly above your tousled hair, a result of self-pity and hatred, caught between going out, staying in, and going out again. In the end, you chose to leave your hideout, craving the high that could only come with the deafening music and sweaty bodies compacted into a small place that is a nightclub. The clicking of your chunk heels on the concrete resounds between the empty alleys, bouncing off walls that can’t be seen behind the cloak of black.

The alcohol has had some effect on your sadness, pushing it further into the recesses of your mind, but the numbing feeling could only go so far, banishing the thoughts but seldom disintegrating the pain in your chest.

From what you can remember, it has been a month since you’ve last seen Yoongi, the only serious relationship you have ever been in, the only person you have ever broken your walls down enough to love. Rarely can you trust someone to maintain close friendships, especially romantically, as you have a track record of being heartbroken many times, screwed over, abused, neglected, just to name a few of the unfortunate events that you experienced while dating. But to this day, no one can compare to the relationship you once had with him. Those two years spent together mean everything to you, and as much as you like to think you’ve completely moved on, you realize how entirely inaccurate that is.

You miss him.

The relationship itself was straight from a fairytale, the type of romance that lasts a lifetime, and for a while you sincerely thought that everything was perfect that it was you and him against the world. But you were so utterly wrong.

His reasons for ending the relationship were nothing more than rubbish to you, poor excuses made up by a man who sincerely didn’t want to be tied down, so used to the bachelor life that the thought of settling scared him.

But you knew better.

He had found someone else in those two weeks of your absence as you traveled to visit family, those two weeks somehow changing everything that by the time you returned, his heart had already moved on. You could tell. He didn’t have to say anything. Just the way he looked at you was all it took for you to notice that the relationship you once had was no longer there.

At the time, there wasn’t much you could do but hold on, praying that maybe if you tried harder, he would stay. But of course, that wasn’t the case. No matter how much of yourself you poured into your relationship, it was all in vein, every part of your self-esteem broken the moment he uttered the most cliché words in the book – we need to talk.

Every night since the breakup has been nothing but pain, either sleeping too much or not enough as tears coursed down your cheeks, leaving your nose raw and lips chapped, becoming nothing but a sobbing mess on top of your bed. You haven’t seen your friends either, ignoring their calls and pleas, simply choosing to isolate yourself in the comfort of your room.

You try to convince yourself that you don’t need anyone and that they will all turn on you, but even the loneliest of creatures desire some kind of skinship.

You keep reassuring yourself that you had made the right decision to cut everyone off from your life, a small sacrifice to protect your heart in the long run, but as of right now, it hurts like hell.

You wish you never knew what love was. That way life like this might be a little less insufferable.

As you inch closer and closer to the inner city, you hear the incessant chattering of drunk patrons littered outside the bars, the booming music from the nightclub nearby, and for a moment you debate if this is the right choice. Quickly, you swallow the doubt, not in the mood for internal conflict, having had enough to last you for the next century. The only thought that should be on your mind is drowning this fucking heartache.

The chilly air nipping at your bare legs underneath the leather skirt only fuel you more, the pricks of pain reminding you that deep inside, there is a pain much worse. Not even the catcalls bother you, a simple reminder that the male heart is nothing more than a bundle of sinew and muscle full of nothing but primal sexual desire. Disgusting.

Peering into the distance, you notice the neon signs of the Midnight Hour, likely one of the sketchiest clubs in the whole area, but also the one with the cheapest top-shelf drinks. Besides, you always carry your pepper spray everywhere, a nifty gadget gifted to you by your father disguised as a thin-banned watch adorning your wrist.

How clever, you thought, vision swimming as the scent of Jack Daniel’s carried from your breath, the puffs of white forming at your lips.

Walking directly past wandering eyes only makes your skin crawl, the lust filled stares only urging you to walk faster. The entry to the club doesn’t come quickly enough as your wrist is suddenly grabbed, and you are pulled aside by some strange man with the scent of cheap vodka spilling from his very being.

“Hey preddy lady, wer’ ya think ya goin’?” So drunk off his ass, he can’t even blink both eyes in unison, his slurred speech only a small indication to how intoxicated he truly is. His reddened eyes and sweat covered fringe only add to his creepy demeanor, and as he leans his face closer to yours, you swear your heart stops.

Using your elbow, you jab him in the stomach, giving you the chance to free your wrist before running to the club where the bouncer generously lets you in without proper identification.

Once inside, you check one last time out one of the windows, and with the strange man nowhere to be seen, you relax slightly before scoping out the place.

To your left is the dance floor, full of sweaty and fumbling bodies underneath a plethora of bright shining lights with music booming loud enough for the floor to vibrate intensely. They all seem to be enjoying themselves, lost in lust as they grind on each other, some in partners while others clumped into an orgy of sin. Since you want to go all out, you figure that eventually, you will end up on those lit up tiles with the rest of them, but before that, you require a bit more to drink so that just maybe, you’ll let loose.

To your right is the sitting area full of couches, tables, and the glorious bar surrounded by shelves upon shelves of liquor. Your mouth begins to water at the thought of the luxurious burn that comes with the alcohol, coaxing you in a blanket of warmth that otherwise could only be achieved through that irritating emotion which you refuse to speak of. Why you are even thinking of it, you have no idea, but you simply blame it on the sadness creeping up from the depths of your soul. But you don’t want to listen to reason, at least not today. It is your day to be free, and you are going to enjoy the hell out of it.

Sauntering past the drunks and sexually aroused, you weave through the tables, pulling up a stool at the bar only to be met with a familiar face.

“Namjoon? You work here?” You ask, eyes popping out of your head at the sudden revelation.

All he can do is chuckle as he finishes mixing a drink, handing it off to a mess of a girl to his left before returning in front of you.

“Yeah, only sometimes though. I needed a second job and since no one I know would ever come here, I thought I’d be safe. But apparently not…” He says, eyeing you curiously, noting the way in which you swayed slightly in your seat.

“I don’t think you need another drink though, I get off in an hour then I’ll take you home, alright?” Just from his tone alone, you can tell that he isn’t offering, he is telling you the plans.

Batting your eyelashes and pouting your lip, you give him the sweetest look you can muster, a look of sadness that you can’t decipher is genuine or not, but when he gives you one look, rolling his eyes, you know that he’s caving.

“One drink, okay? That’s all you get.” A statement to which you can do nothing but smile, the corners of your mouth turning upward with small lines adorning your slick skin.

Releasing a sigh, he grabs a highball glass from the bottom shelf, pulling out a container of grapefruit wedges from the fridge and a plate of salt. Using his expertise and fancy tricks to impress you, or more-so the other women littering around the bar, after a few flips in his hand, he dips the rim of the glass in the salt, adding grapefruit juice, lime juice, and a bit of sugar before pulling out the holy grail – tequila. Adding tequila, club soda, and ice, he tops it off with one of the grapefruit wedges, sliding it over to you before placing his forearms on the table to cushion his chin.

“It’s called a Paloma. I think you’ll like it. It’s sweet, like you.” With the clumsiest, most awkward wink you’ve ever seen, he leaves you to sit with his cheesy comment as he attends to others sitting at the stools.

For a moment, you’re speechless, the whole encounter only registering moments later when you’re left fighting a smile. A response you wish you didn’t have but with the alcohol already in your system, it’s hard not to give him any ideas about how much you genuinely love his awkward flirting. It doesn’t matter how many times he’s tried, it’s like a breath of fresh air every time, something you didn’t realized you enjoyed until now. And besides, you know it’s nothing serious, that he would just rather see you smile than sitting at the bar with a frown plastered to your face.

And that is something you are grateful for.

Lifting the glass to your lips, you take in the concoction of salty and sweet liquid, the flavor of the juice far overpowering the bitter taste of the tequila, and for a moment you wonder if he had put in any alcohol at all. You wouldn’t slip it past him to serve you a virgin drink, but once you sense the distinct aftertaste along with the glorious burn down your throat, you are at ease.

Rarely ever do you overdrink, well aware of your limits, but tonight all you want is to forget, forget the pain nipping at your heart, the pain that manifested itself as dark indentations underneath your eyes. Moving on is never easy, of course, and you don’t expect it to be, but to feel constant suffocation is a whole new symptom you weren’t originally prepared to deal with.

You might as well consider it dry drowning.

As you continue to sip your glass, you realize that this night might be the thing you need. A night when you can drop all insecurities and enjoy yourself amongst utter strangers who have no reason to judge you other than your embarrassing dance moves. Which, at this point, you could give two shits about.

With the coolness in your hand, the condensation sliding down the glass into your palm, your body relaxes against your seat. For a moment, time stops and as you watch the ice swimming in the pink liquid, a melodic and hypnotizing motion that entrances you to the point where you almost don’t notice Namjoon speaking directly in front of you.

“Hey kid, can you hear me? I knew you had too much to drink…” Running his fingers through his stray bangs, he reaches for the glass in front of you, but not before you can grab his wrist.

“I’m fine, I promise. Just a little tired.” Removing his hand, he allows you to chug the rest of it, using your forearm as a temporary napkin to wipe the excess liquid on the corners of your mouth. Once the glass is briskly taken away, you hop from the stool, but not before his voice rings in your ear once more.

“Where are you going?” He asks, a sudden look of horror on face.

Quirking your brows, you look behind you, but noticing nothing unusual, you return your gaze to him with more confusion than anything.

“Dancing… where else would I go?” Giving your best attempt at a smile, you simply wave before walking in the direction of the dance floor, completely ignoring his incessant ‘wait’s in your departure.

It’s not that you have anything against the man, you really adore him, but you know his only goal is to get you to call it a night, so that maybe he won’t have to carry you home. But you can handle your own. You hope.

Walking between the hordes of sex-crazed party-goers, you look for an open spot on the highlighted tiles, eyes scanning every inch only to find little to no space left. But it isn’t in you to give up so easily, especially when you had come all this way, out of the comfort of your own being, just to dance between sweat covered bodies.

Squeezing in between spaces, you look around at the various faces, all either lost in lust or substance abuse, all of which leaves them with giddy smiles and hooded eyes. You realize the fake happiness that comes with an environment like this is what likely draws people in and what makes them return, just the air itself entirely different from anywhere else you have ever been.

The speakers, nearly the size of you, send vibrations through the floor and up your legs, the beating of your own heart now in sync with the rhythm of the music. It is like the music took control of every motion, your hips gently swaying along to the beat. Albeit it not being your type of music, you couldn’t deny the rush it gave you, the bass only getting louder with each successive song.

Looking ahead, you find the DJ at his booth, the master behind the computer and expensive equipment lost in his own mix.

Focusing on the crowd once more, you smile at the few who happen to make eye contact with you, an impulsive response you have despite knowing they likely don’t even realize you are there. But when you happen upon a mop of raven hair that is all too familiar, you immediately freeze in your spot, the room suddenly quiet.

The last person you expect to see, the first person you want to see, is standing all of four feet away from you, grinding his dick into the backside of modelesque brunette.

“Of course…” you mutter, suddenly reliving his final words before leaving your apartment all those days ago.

This is what he wants. He wants to be able to dance with random girls without facing the repercussions. He wants to party all night and sleep all day without having to message someone about how he won’t be coming home that night.

But never did you expect to see him here of all places. It only irritates you further.

It’s not in your place to get him to stay, to get him to call you or want your relationship back, but the vindictiveness inside of you seems to be egging you on to do something you wouldn’t normally dare to do.

But again, maybe it’s the alcohol.

Looking around, you watch as couples and a few individuals dance with vigor, and if sex itself was a dance move, then they would all be experts.

From the corner of your eye you notice a lone girl dancing beside a couple, likely the result of third wheeling that she originally never signed up for. You can tell from the way she moves that the drinks she consumed are finally hitting her, but that doesn’t dissipate the look of pure boredom decorating her face.

Stepping between the small spaces toward her, you try to catch her attention, but as she continues to stare off into the distance, a few flawless curls hanging over her face, you realize that you will have to be blunt.

“Hey…” tapping on her shoulder, you garner her attention, and when she looks over at you, she gives you small smile.

“Would you like to dance?” The liquid movement of her tongue across her glossed top lip sends a shockwave through your limbs, the clear interest in her eyes only inciting excitement in the pit of your stomach.

Strolling over, she finds solace against your chest, one leg in between your own as she begins grinding into you, the sway of her hips matching your own perfectly. This chance meeting only works out for you doubly, as this girl is both the perfect revenge plot and so perfectly your type. Just looking at her sends your heart to another planet, and you swear if you weren’t so in love with that bastard, you might just take her home.

Even under the hot disco lights, you can see the blush across her smooth skin, her cheeks so round and soft that you swear they would make perfect pillows. Every second you find yourself losing sight on the goal, so lost in her beauty that for a moment all you can see is her. Everything about her – her nose, her eyes, the shape of her cupid lips – is enough to send you into the pit of lust. Tonight is about having fun, and you sure as hell are going to have the time of your life.

Placing your hands delicately around her waist, you push yourself closer to her, grinding her equally until you hear a gasp escape the seam of her lips, and the moment she returns the gesture, instead circling her arms around your neck, you realize that a certain pair of brown orbs are looking in your direction.

From the corner of your eye, you notice the way he cocks his head to the side, his date now facing the wall behind him as he tries to search his mind if he is truly watching you in front of him. Even if he does finally understand that it is indeed you, he doesn’t do much of anything, instead leaning his chin on her shoulder as his eyes scan every curve of your body as you dance.

Just the thought of him watching shoots fire through your veins, something sinister pooling within your heart as you stare down the lips of the intoxicated girl in front of you. Seeming to understand the undertones of your glare, she leans closely, ghosting her lips against yours, her hot breath hitting you along with the overwhelming scent of several gin and tonics. For a moment she backs away, looking you directly in the eye for the green light, an act of pure generosity that you are nearly stunned speechless, but with lust clouding your vision, you nod immediately, granting her the access she desires. Within seconds, her lips are on yours, a mess of angry tongues and clashing teeth, the act of her nipping on the flesh of your bottom lip sending electricity to your toes. Reaching your hands behind her neck, you pull her in closer, her mewling only encouraging you to dig your nails into her skin as she melts in your arms. The exchange is heated, her hands sliding down your chest stopping on your thighs as she inches closer and closer to the hem of your skirt.

Even in the middle of the crowd under the cloak of darkness, you feel as if you two are alone, lost in a world where no one else is welcome – a sanctuary of small moans and passionate touches.

In between love nips and battles of the tongue, you both break, gasping for air, hooded eyes while dripping in sweat. Neither of you seem to be aware of your surroundings, until the expression on her face contorts into a mix of shock and concern, the moment now long over as she flattens the wrinkles of her dress and licks her lips.

“I’m sorry, I think my friends are trying to leave, and I have to pretend to be sober. Um…” She starts, shouting over the booming music. Frowning, she pulls out her phone from her bra, handing it over for you to type in your number.

“Sorry, it’s sweaty.” She states, both of you erupting in a fit of laughter.

It isn’t every day that you get to meet someone like this, a temporary fling or not, she seems extremely nice, and if it wasn’t for your current state of isolation, you might consider calling her.

Once typing in your number, you hand it back over, a smile on her face as she scans over your name in her phone. With one final nod and a kiss on the cheek, she rushes through the crowd toward her friends, the last thing you see being her blonde curls and they fall effortlessly down her back.

For a moment you’re sad, already missing the company, but when you remember the existence of a certain someone, you straighten your posture. When you turn around, you heart nearly drops to the floor as his fingers become entangled in her hair, the passion of their kiss radiating like a heat wave.

Lips forming into the straight line, you try to hold back the tears from spilling, convinced that karma sincerely never works in your favor to begin with, as this is what you deserve for even staying and trying to make him jealous. You should have known it wasn’t going to work anyway, he was the one who left you after all.

As much as you want to look away, you can’t seem to break your eyes away, the sight sending your stomach into a hurricane of feelings, none of which are the least bit comfortable. Everything only gets worse as you watch his hands snake around her body only to stop at flesh of her ass. Noticing the way he kneads her with his hands, you try your best to suck in the sobs, but when you glance upward, you heart stops once you realize his eyes are open, looking in your direction.

Something inside of you snaps, no longer able to maintain this front. Before he has the chance to see the first tear fall from your eye, you turn around and rush through the sweaty bodies, nearly squeezing yourself to death as people continue to dance hectically, completely ignoring your very existence. Once off the floor, you rush to the women’s restroom, not even bothering to look over your shoulder. It all becomes too much, the emotions you tried so hard to suppress finally bubbling to the surface in a wave of nausea and sadness.

Leaning over the sink, you turn on the cold water, splashing you face to try to calm down, but instead it only mixes with the salt dense tears, the flood gate finally releasing. So lost in your sobs, you don’t notice the figure that slips into the bathroom behind you, not until there is a death grip around the back of your neck.

Pulling you backwards, you are forced against a large body, and through the filthy mirror, you notice the distorted look on the man’s face, his grungy appearance and dilated eyes reminding you of a certain someone you really hoped you’d never see again.

“Perty lady, fancy meetin’ you here” He slurred into the curve of your neck, goosebumps spreading like wildfire across your skin as pure panic began to set in.

You try to dislodge yourself from his grasp, but his grip on your neck is tight enough for you to lose consciousness. As the blood flow to your brain slows down, you lose all strength in your legs, collapsing to the dirtied floor in a heap. No longer having the energy to reach for the button on your watch, you simply succumb to your fate. Your vision becomes blurry, his words sounding like nothing more than radio static in your ears, and although you know you should be fighting til your last breath, you suddenly no longer have the willpower to do so.

But when the door to the bathroom violently swings open, a glimmer of hope flashes behind your lids. Once his large fingers are removed from around your neck, you take in the biggest breath of your life, coughing at the sudden rush into your lungs. Your throat is on fire and despite hearing the struggle from behind you, all you can focus on his steading yourself enough to stand up, so with this opening you can escape and just go home.

Looking over your shoulder, your eyes widen at the sight in front of you – Yoongi standing over the man on the ground, his fist pounding mercilessly against his face until trickles of blood turn into rivers of crimson from his nose and mouth.

Suppressing the panic, you jump into action, holding onto Yoongi’s arm for dear life in hopes that he will let the man live to see tomorrow. For a moment, he stills his motions, looking over with nothing but pure ferocity in his eyes, bloodied hands still curled into heavy fists. But upon seeing you with tears falling past your chin, his eyes soften and he removes his weight from the man’s chest.

His focus changed in an instant, the only person in his view being you, his frown and soft features forcing a flood of feelings to spread through your chest. You try your best to hold in the sobs, the mix of fear and overwhelming joy doing little to help you control your reaction.

“Don’t cry, baby, don’t cry… I’m here.” He says gently, pulling you into his arms and he rubs circles across your back.

The pet name alone is enough to break you down, but to feel his touch, something you craved for so long, only creates another storm of emotions, more and more tears falling from your eyes. As much as you want to hate him and loathe him, you can’t deny how much you truly miss having him around, feeling his touch, and smelling that God-awful cologne that he always seems to love. It all hits you like a wave, and you find yourself collapsing more and more into his chest, never wanting to let go, so much so that you nearly dig your nails into his back, too afraid that if you let go, then he will walk away forever.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” He tries to pull you up from your spot, but when you shake your head vigorously, he only lets out a sigh before holding you tighter.

For a while you both sit there on the floor, completely oblivious to the world outside the bathroom door. Instead, he simply hums against your hair, leaving butterfly kisses in his wake as he rocks you back and forth. A part of you feels as if you are caught in a dream, like this is a moment that is too good to be true, but when you feel the pounding in the back of your head and the stiff muscles of your neck, you remember that this in fact real life, that you almost died, and that the love of your life is sitting here holding you.

Is this a blessing or a curse?

Likely both.

“Okay, we really should leave before someone walks in here and sees this bastard on the ground.”

Chuckling lightly, you nod in agreement, allowing him to stand first before helping you up. Wrapping your arm around his shoulder, he leads you out of the bathroom, checking the surroundings to make sure no one else is around to see the unfortunate condition you both are in. Seeing no eyes, he helps you across the room through the crowds of people, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you steady. All you can do is look at the floor, nothing but shame in the forefront of your mind.

What did I do to deserve this? You thought, looking back at the night which was originally supposed to be a happy outing.

More than anything you realize that this night will only leave you with trauma, horrid memories of the man keeping you up at night for the next several weeks. You weren’t ready to go out, and now you will pay the price.

Once outside, he drops your arm, holding your shoulders until you are able to stand fully on your own. Removing his own jacket, you watch as he ties it around your waist, his fingers tying a gentle knot with the sleeves.

“Get on my back.”

Looking up at him, you eye him curiously, his words taking a second too long to process. Just from the dim streetlights, you can tell that his features softened, his genuine self now standing right before you. There is always a persona that he puts on whenever he is out in public, one very different from the one he adorns when he used to be around you. But now he seems to be back.

Nodding your head, you wait for him to turn his back. Placing your hands on his shoulders, he bends down toward the ground, low enough to where all you have to do is fall on top of him. Once secure, he stands up with your legs wrapped around him, but the moment, you feel your skirt ride up past your waist, a heated blush spreads across your cheeks.

So that’s what the jacket’s for.

Without another word, he begins to walk in the direction of your apartment, the once littered streets now desolate and empty. Having little to no energy left, you lean your head on his shoulder, watching as a few cars drive past while businesses shut down the lights and the owners go home. The night, unlike before, is quiet, the air even colder than before as the wind bites at your exposed skin, all the way from your legs to your tear soaked cheeks. You try to focus on something else, anything, to get your mind off his presence because the moment you do, you won’t want to let him go. S is difficult to fight against, but for both of your sakes, you will try.

Closing your eyes, you try to control the urge to vomit as bile begins to work its way from your stomach. The movement only seems to aggravate the feeling, but with every ounce of concentration you hold it in. But that only seems to last for so long.

“Yoongi…”

“Hm?” He questions, looking over his shoulder at your resting figure.

“I’m going to puke.” You state matter-of-factly.

“Shit. Hang on, we’re almost there.”

From your position on his back, you feel him pick up his pace, doing his best to make his movements as fluid as possible only to stumble on his feet several times not even a minute afterwards. Instead, you try to control your breathing as to not aggravate the situation, but with every passing moment, you feel yourself coming closer and closer to the edge. The last thing you want is the vomit on him, and you would rather not stop in the middle of the sidewalk to throw up onto the side of a building. You just want to be home.

Keeping your eyes closed, you begin to hum a melody, one that has been stuck in your head for the past several months. You aren’t sure where you heard it, but ever since then, it hasn’t once left your head, leaving you to hum every chance you got. For some reason, it has the power to calm you down whenever you were upset or angry, and in this moment, it seems to suppress the nausea, at least long enough until you reach the house.

“You… remember that?” Yoongi asks quietly, slight shock lacing his voice.

For a moment you stop, soaking in his words.

Did he recognize it?

Mustering the strength to speak, the only response you can give is a cryptic one.

“I… don’t know.”

Not saying a word, he continues to walk, suddenly squeezing tighter around your thighs. For a while there is nothing but silence between the two of you, until he finally speaks the words that have been hanging from his tongue.

“That was the song I wrote the one night we got snowed in and we drank in the living room… remember? To be honest, I don’t remember any of the lyrics, but to this day I still think about it… I really wanted to write a song for you then.”

Searching in the depths of your mind, you try to recall this night, but when you think you remember something, you quickly realize that the only valid memories left of it are opening the bottles of wine and burning yourself trying to light the fire.

“Where are your keys?” He asks through heavy pants trying to catch his breath.

Rummaging through the pocket of your jacket, you pull out the silver key attached to the small Totoro plush, the very one he had gifted you on your birthday. All the feelings begin to rush back, but before you let it get further, you hand over the key, allowing him to unlock the door.

But once inside, you can’t wait any longer.

Hitting on his shoulder, you signal for him to let you down, and when your feet reach the wood flooring, you kick off your heels before running in the direction of the bathroom. Having time to close the door, you nearly rip off the toilet seat just in time to let out the contents of your stomach.

The heaving doesn’t stop as the alcohol has finally caught up with you, nothing but stomach acid leaving the recesses of your throat. Clutching onto the toilet, you try your best to control it, but your body seems to disagree.

Just then, the sound of footsteps echo between the bathroom walls, hands pulling your hair back and away from your face as you continue to empty the contents of your stomach. Once there is nothing left, you leave your forehead against the cool porcelain, sweat dripping down the back of your neck with more tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. When you feel a hand rubbing circles on your back and massaging your tense shoulder muscles, you are able to relax slightly, melting into his touch as he calms you. For a while you both sit like this on the floor, the nausea slowly starting to disappear.

Lifting your head, you look over your shoulder at Yoongi who has a timid smile on his face.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Yoongi. You shouldn’t have to be here…” Placing your head back onto the toilet, you try to calm your beating heart, the realization that he is here in the flesh hitting you all at once. All you know how to do is apologize, the guilt overweighing your undeniable desire for him to stay.

His only response is to chuckle, a few more rubs against your back before he is standing up.

“Don’t apologize. I’m just glad you’re okay…” Drifting off at the end, he tries to hide his smile by biting his bottom lip, but when you glance back over, you can immediately tell that he is enjoying every moment of your suffering.

“You’re such an ass you know that.” You spit, holding onto the sink as you stand on your own two feet.

Rubbing the back of his neck, his smile immediately disappears, a look of pure guilt replacing it. He no longer makes eye contact with you, instead looking at the floor as you try to regain your balance.

A part of you feels bad, but you also know that the pain he put you through is far worse than him having the decency to bring you home.

“I’m sorry… I just missed you. A lot.”

The words that fall from his lips leave you speechless, a mixture of joy and utter disbelief. But now isn’t the time to cave, you need to stay strong for your own sake.

“You know you broke up with me right.” You ask incredulously, playing a hand on your hip as you await his (likely pathetic) answer.

“Yes… I do. And I know I messed up one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.” Lifting his head, he stares into your eyes, but what surprises you more than his words are the single tears that fall effortlessly down his cheeks.

“I was so lost without you, I didn’t know what to with myself. I made a mistake, but I was so afraid you wouldn’t take me back that I tried to forget because I didn’t think I could handle the rejection, especially after what I had done to you. You don’t have to believe me, but I’m telling the truth.” His words ran together seamlessly as he finally got it off his chest, the weight of his emotions hitting you like a ton of bricks.

He is never one to express his emotions easily, so whenever the words just tumble from his lips, you are always taken aback by simply how many feelings he is capable of hiding from the world. One would never guess just by looking at him how sensitive and extremely caring he is, but that is also one of the many reasons why you have come to love him so deeply.

“It’s okay, Yoongi… really, it’s okay.” You aren’t entirely sure if he believes your words, but he nods anyway to reassure you that he is at least listening.

The silence that fills the room is slightly uncomfortable, but not as much as you would have thought it’d be. You suppose it’s to be expected of a reunion like this, but it doesn’t stop your skin from crawling thinking about what will happen next.

“You can leave, if you’d like… Thank you for taking me home.” Untying the jacket from your waist, you hand it back to him, leaving your gaze on his feet knowing that if you dare looked him in the eye, you would crumble.

“You want me to stay, don’t you?” Bolting upright, you stare at him with wide eyes, the smirk on his face and his cocky tone only making your stomach flip a million times over.

He knows you so fucking well.

Rolling your eyes, you push past him and out of the bathroom, walking to your bedroom as if he no longer exists. Pulling out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, you change out of your outing attire, fully aware that his eyes are boring holes through your very back.

“Why don’t you take a picture, it will last longer.” You remark, false irritation lacing your monotone voice.

“I already have plenty of those.”

Turning around, you glare daggers in his direction, his outburst of laughter now filling the room. A part of you wants to slap him, but whenever you see his gummy smile like this, you can’t help but smile yourself. It is a laugh you haven’t heard in ages, and it becomes a sweet sound to your ears, one you are certain you never wish to be away from again.

“Shut up and come to bed.” Leaving him on his own, you climb under the covers, pulling the comforter over your head as you face the opposite wall. When your hear him drop his pants, the sound of his belt hitting the floor, your cheeks are set on fire, a string of thoughts running through your mind at the implications of him being in bed with you and what that might mean moving forward. But for now, you decide to enjoy the moment while it lasts, the day already far longer that you would like. Once he turns off the light, you take a few moments to breathe and collect yourself before he has the chance to come near you, but with every step, you heart only rises in your throat. Feeling the covers being pulled back, you count down the seconds until you feel him scoot up against you, his face plunged against your pillow.

“I missed you so much…” He mutters into the back of your neck, voice dripping with honey and sincerity. It only makes your heart ache for him, all negative emotions you had felt dissipating. There is so much you want to say to him, to tell him how glad you are that he’s here, but a part of you wants him to spill his heart, forever lost in his words.

“I feel like I never told you this enough, but I think you are so beautiful. The way you make me feel is indescribable. You bring me so much happiness and without you, I felt like I lost a part of myself. I promise I will never hurt you again… if you allow me to stay.”

His frail voice is like an open window to his soul, the sadness you feel no longer an emotion you are sharing by yourself.

“Yes, Yoongi, you can stay.”

#btswriters #kreativewriters #bts writing squad #bt-yes-network #bangtanwriters-net #boy group writers net #bangtanbuds #armiesnet #daegulinenetwork #bts #bangtan #bts scenario #suga #yoongi #yoongi scenario #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #bts angst #bts fluff

404 notes · View notes