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#a cold guy who always disassociated himself from his actions
j0lyn3 · 2 years
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#ok. dorian gray. finished it. so#it was so much sadder than i expected. i thought it would be like a collection of hedonistic exploits#but i think most of that happened only in one chapter that described dorian's many many purchases of random things#half of the book was dorian being manipulated and the other half was him being terrible#and by the end of the book hes pretty responsible for his own actions but i didnt expect him to be for a lot of the book so. idk. tragic.#the movie seems to depict him as a wolf through and through but i think his um. downfall in the book is so much more compelling.#well to my knowledge dorian gray in pop culture is understood as how he was in the movie.#a cold guy who always disassociated himself from his actions#and doesnt pay for it for a long time because of his looks#and i think thats the case bc well. dorian gray's arc is the book is so much more. uncomfortable.#but is also more interesting because of that#not only more interesting but like#more valuable. i think.#ok thats it thanks for reading this post on my Anime Blog 👍#tbh i can hardly comment on the movie. since i havent. seen it im just basing this off the changes in dialogue ive seen in clips#like umm when dorian sees his portrait for the first time in the book he gets very hysterical. since it will stay young while he grows old#throwing himself onto a nearby could and crying over it#*couch#which btw. this is a shift in how he views himself caused just recently by some guy who manipulates him for the whole book.#but in the movie hes just like Well maybe i should sell my soul so that this portrait will bear the shame of my sins instead of me. that wou#ld be pretty cool.
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bubblesuga · 3 years
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off the table.
Summary: Fate has an odd way of playing with your mind. When you leave Min Yoongi on his door step nearly a decade ago, you became positive that you would never find love again. Settling for a man you thought you could learn to love, you had given up on fully moving on. But again, fate likes to play.
W/C: 11,680
Genre: Idol!AU, smut, fluff
Warnings: cussing, smut, mentions of exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, Jimin is curious about Yoongi’s (non-existent) sex life, 
A/N: Based loosely off of Off The Table by Ariana Grande if you want a song to listen to as you read :) x
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“So, this is it then?” 
“Yeah.” 
The near migraine-inducing memory always happens to flash in your mind at the worst times possible. Eight years ago, you found yourself standing at the front door of your ex boyfriend’s dorm with a solemn heart as he softly explained what his life was going to turn into. It was a short conversation, one the both of you had seen coming but neither of you wanted to admit it. 
As his new friends and new life began to form behind him in the small one bedroom apartment, you nodded, and you left with one last kiss to his rosy lips. His deep brown eyes bore into yours with just as much sadness that you felt before you dragged yourself away helplessly. 
Of course, now that you were 3 months into a new relationship, the memory decides to pop it’s way back into your brain as if it had just happened. A soft whisper in your mind gently coaxed you away from your latest fling and disassociated you from the moment entirely. He’s a nice guy, as well. Good head on his shoulders, smart with money, and loves to cook for you. So the sense of guilt you felt was tremendous because despite having this gorgeous man in front of you, your mind always flew back to him. 
It has become more and more difficult not to think of him considering the fact that his face is now everywhere. The news, the internet, your fucking cold brew... He was there, the same bright features and adorable nose. You wondered if he thought of you from time to time, how you’re doing or what you could be up to since you graduated university. With as hectic of a schedule that you’re sure he held, you highly doubted that you have been on his mind since the end. Knowing him, he threw himself into his work and hasn’t looked back. It shows in his music, though. You always knew that he would be successful. 
“...are you even listening to me?” 
The words dragged you out of your trance and you immediately set down your coffee, “What? Of course I am.” 
Junwoo couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “What was I talking about then?” 
Fuck. 
You push your hair back, a habit you developed recently as your desire to try and forget about your ex boyfriend has grown stronger, “I’m sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.” 
Maybe it hasn’t just been lately. Maybe every single time you feel Junwoo’s lips against yours, you can’t help but compare him to Yoongi. He didn’t need to know that, though. 
“Yeah, you use that a lot as your excuse. I’ll try not to bore you with tales from my clients anymore.” Junwoo slides the plate in front of you, a heart shaped kimchi pancake lay flat in the middle of it, and you feel your guilt grow stronger. 
“No! I love hearing about them, I- I think I need to see someone about what’s going on in my head.” You explain. You had yet to mention to anyone that you dated Suga of BTS before he was known as such. In fact, you’re pretty sure if you even hinted at it, you’d become the laughing stock of Seoul. It made it impossibly difficult to talk about your feelings with Junwoo. He always tries to pry, but you shut him down completely. 
“What’s going on? Is it serious?” concern laces his features and he sits carefully beside you at the table. 
“No, I just need someone to talk to.” you try to shake the feeling of discontent when his arm wraps around your shoulder. 
He leans his head on yours- “you can always talk to me.” -you shutter. 
“A professional, just to help me get back on my game. Regain control of...” you let out a soft sigh and feel Junwoo’s lips brush against your temple, “...myself.” 
“_____, I am a literal therapist.” 
“A literal therapist who is emotionally involved with me. Isn’t it inappropriate to make out with your patients?” You quirk, raising an eyebrow. 
He rolls his eyes again, “Okay. Let me know if you need recommendations. Us in the brain community are pretty tight-knit.” He stands up and runs a hand through your hair before trotting back to the kitchen to begin his own breakfast. 
You nibble on the inside of your cheek as you stare down at your pancake, picking up the butter knife beside your plate and dragging it down the center with a grimace on your face. 
~*~*~
Even though you spent many years studying medicine, you didn’t think it would involve this much typing. Staring at patient charts has become a normal during your regular work day, especially since you’re boss decided that he didn’t need to look at the charts, he just wanted to hear from you. 
You’re a nurse, not a secretary. 
Today you were assigned to the emergency room, which was one of your favorite places to be. Everything was much faster than if you happened to be in post-op or general medicine, but the moment you enter the doors, you were piled with paperwork that you were sure a medical assistant could be doing. 
The drowning sounds of chatter and machine’s melodic beeping blended with your fingers as they typed name after name, number after number for an hour straight. Just as you thought your soul had completely drained from your body, you hear a tap on the desk. 
“H- hi, uh- my friend’s foot got cut open and we think he needs stitches. Is there any way that we could get seen quickly?” You glance up and your eyes immediately go wide. 
You remember meeting Namjoon a few times in passing when you were still seeing Yoongi, but he’s much taller than you remember. Instantly you feel your face go red, and you were frozen in place. Why the hell was Namjoon here? How did he manage to choose this hospital of all the ones in Seoul?
You happen to tear your eyes away from him for a second, glancing over and seeing Jungkook being held up by Jimin as his foot stays elevated in the air. The minute you see a t-shirt wrapped tightly around Jungkook’s foot, you move to action. 
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that! Let me get you a wheelchair,” you swing around the desk and grab one of the folded up wheelchairs and roll it towards Jungkook. He grimaces as he sits down, his foot crossed onto the opposite knee. Jimin seems relieved not to have his friend leaning on him anymore, and you pause for a second to assess the situation. 
“Jenni! Do we have an open bed anywhere?” You grab your co worker who walks passed you with her hands filled with bandages. 
“Back corner, we just cleaned it.” She calls back, walking without glancing at the people you’re trying to help. 
You nod, immediately walking Jungkook towards the back and gesturing for Namjoon and Jimin to follow. You grab an empty chart as you walk, before opening the curtain for the bed and allowing the three men to slide into the area. 
“I hate to be pushy but this really hurts.” Jungkook hisses as wrap your arm beneath his and slowly lift him towards the bed. Immediately, you slip gloves onto your hands and begin to unwrap the t-shirt. There’s quite a bit of blood, but not enough to have you worried that he hit an artery. 
Namjoon bites his lip before speaking, “I should have watched the stage better. I’m sorry.” 
Jungkook shrugs, wincing while he attempts to pull himself up higher, “It was hard to see. Not your fault, or anyone else’s.” 
“Except for the person who broke the stage.” Namjoon quips, rubbing his hands over his face, frustrated. 
“It’s fine, hyung. The pretty nurse is going to fix Kookie right up.” Jimin is quick to comfort both of his friends while simultaneously causing you to blush. 
It’s then that you notice the three of them in clothes similar to their rehearsal getup from all those years ago. Sweat lines each of their foreheads and you wonder just how this whole thing happened. 
After inspecting the wound, you whip towards the suture kit, “It is deep enough to require stitches. I’m going to call the doctor down and have her suture you up. Until then would you like me to numb the pain?” Even though you’re well aware who these men are, and how close you potentially are to your ex boyfriend, you can’t help but let your professional prowess overpower your incessant need to think of Yoongi.
Jungkook nods, “At this point I’ll take a shot of whiskey and something to knock me out.” 
You smile, “Unfortunately there isn’t any whiskey here. Believe me, I’ve been searching since I got here.” 
Namjoon chuckles from beside you as you put your finger up to let them know you’ll be right back. Pulling open the curtain, you meander over to the nurse’s station and pick up the phone to call the ER doctor down. As you wait for him, you grab all the supplies to clean Jungkook’s foot, including a Lidocaine injection. Before you get the chance to turn back around, you hear the ER doors burst open and see four sweaty men tearing their way into the hospital. 
Four sweaty men, including Min Yoongi. 
An uncharacteristic whimper leaves your lips as you spot the rest of the members, all rushing passed you when they see Namjoon stick his head out of the curtains. 
You feel all the blood drain from your face when the familiarity of Yoongi’s presence passes by you. Jenni notices your panic from the other side of the nurse’s station and lets out a little giggle, “Come on, you can’t get all shy just because they’re BTS. You have a job to do.” 
“I can’t go in there now, Jenni. You have to take over.” You turn back to her with wild eyes, desperately trying to hand her all the supplies you gathered. Your eyes continuously glance backwards, watching them pile in. Yoongi can’t see you, you won’t be able to look the man in the eyes. You can’t even begin to think about the embarrassment you will feel if Yoongi sees you. 
Jenni only laughs, “You’re a professional. Dr. Gwan will be down soon so you only have to be with them for a few moments.” 
In a last ditch effort, you call out to her as she walks towards another patient.
Okay. You’re panicking now. 
The universe has to be playing some sort of sick game on you right about now. You have not been able to get that stupid man off your mind lately and now here he was in your emergency room. First he’s worried about his brother but now he’s going to see you and want to chat and catch up. Knowing him, he’ll ask you for coffee and you’ll probably learn of his girlfriend or possible wife. He’ll wonder why you’re not married yet, and you’ll have to hide the fact that you haven’t been able to properly move on because of him. 
That’s only to say if he even remembers you. 
Taking a deep breath, you swallow your anxiety and enter the curtain. 
“Alright, Jungkook. Do you have any allergies that I should know about before I inject you with my magic numbing liquid?” It’s much more cramped in the room than it was before. The 6 members crowd to one side of the bed while you stand on the other. You refuse to look up for fear that Yoongi is going to recognize you.
“No allergies.” Jungkook shakes his head. 
“Good, good,” you lean forward, elevating Jungkook’s foot and removing the make shift bandage, “you’re gonna feel a slight pinch.” 
“He’s not going to lose his foot or anything, right?” A voice asks. You recognize it as Taehyung’s. 
“No,” you’re sure they can sense how rigid you are, “he’s not going to be able to dance for a little bit, but he’ll be back and better than ever in no time.” No one responds, and you finally make eye contact with Jungkook, “Are you ready?” 
Again, he nods, and you slowly push the needle into his foot. He cringes enough to jerk his upper body slightly, but Jimin is at his side just as quickly as it started. 
You dispose of the needle immediately afterwards, wrapping his foot up to keep pressure applied to the wound, “Okay, Dr. Gwan will be here soon. She’ll get you sutured up and I’ll be back later to check on you.” 
“Thank you, miss. It already feels better.” He sighs happily, relaxing backwards onto the pillow. 
You grin, momentarily forgetting that your ex boyfriend is 3 feet away, “Of course, Jungkook. That’s my job.” 
It’s then that you catch Yoongi’s eye for the first time that night. It’s not to say he didn’t recognize you before, but he wasn’t able to say anything once he saw you working. He was deathly still, the rest of the day leaving his mind when your shiny eyes met his. He sees you swallow, and you walk out without saying anything else. 
“That was _____.” Yoongi murmurs after a moment, staring at the swaying curtains where you once exited. 
The chatter stops instantly, and everyone turns to Yoongi. 
“The _____?” Hoseok questions, his eyes wide while he also turns to watch the curtains. 
Yoongi nods, his throat going dry as memories of you sleeping beside him at night when he had nothing to his name wash over him. You, with the exception of his brother, were the only person supporting him when he said he wanted a career in music. You applied to universities in Seoul so you could be closer to his dream, you were always so excited to hear his new music and you always told him that he was going to make it big. 
It’s not like Yoongi hadn’t thought of you since you broke up. He was a complete mess for months afterwards. His schedule solely consisted of working and rehearsing because he couldn’t bare to have a moment to himself. 
Yoongi repeatedly beat himself up for the way he ended things and more specifically, the reason he ended things. After getting into BigHit, Yoongi realized he was seeing less and less of you. You were so busy with med school and he was so busy with rehearsals that you were lucky to see each other once a week. He knew you’d be better off finding someone who could be there for you, and that it was best for him to focus on his career. 
He just wasn’t aware of how much that would kill him inside. 
“Well what are you doing here? Aren’t you going to go talk to her?” Seokjin pushes. There are times when Yoongi has to remind himself that he isn’t the oldest in the group, and that usually comes when Seokjin takes his role as older brother very seriously. 
Yoongi scoffs at the taller man, “What do you want me to say? ‘Hey I know it’s been 8 years but lets meet up for coffee and pretend like we didn’t break each other’s hearts’?” he takes a moment to collect his thoughts, “Besides, Jungkook needs us here while he gets his foot stabbed.” 
“Oh no, hyung,” Jungkook laughs, “I’m doing juuuust fine. You go talk to the pretty nurse.” 
Yoongi swallows, “What should I say?” 
Namjoon shrugs, “Whatever comes to mind.” 
Yoongi’s feet carry him out of the curtained off area, his eyes searching across the emergency room in an attempt to find you. He spots you at the desk by the front door, and with a nervous head tilt, he’s dragging himself towards you. 
The moment you left Jungkook, you threw yourself back into paperwork and became so immersed that you didn’t hear anything going on around you. Except for the soft footsteps pattering up to your station, which causes you to tear your eyes away from the chicken scratch handwriting on the chart in front of you. 
It’s silent for a beat, you can feel the heat rising to your ears as you look up at him. His hair is longer, different from the short style he’d gel up every morning before the break up. There’s more piercings on his ears, but at the core of the new flashy clothes and dyed hair, he’s still the same man who professed his love for you at 17 years old. 
“Hi.” he whispers. 
“...hi.” you respond, your hands still frozen over the keyboard as Yoongi fiddles with his fingers on top of the desk. 
“Thank you for helping-” Yoongi is cut off by another Nurse calling you over from a different bed in the emergency room. 
You give him a quick glance, “I’m sorry, duty calls.” 
Yoongi couldn’t help but feel his heartbeat quicken when you stand. He had a better look at the pink scrubs donned on your body, and the smile on his face was nearly uncontrollable when he realizes that you made it exactly where you wanted to be. Your dreams of helping people has now become a reality. 
You’re truly in your element, and Yoongi can tell. The concern on your face as you help a little girl sat in the center of a bed way too big for her was a sure fire way to know that you were in the right place.  
So, Yoongi doesn’t push a conversation. Instead, he walks back to his band mates and watches in awe as Dr. Gwan stitches up Jungkook’s foot. 
~*~*~
“He walked away.” 
“He walked away?!” 
“He. Walked. Away.” You emphasize to Jenni, holding your hands to your face while you let out a groan. 
“Okay, so let me get this straight,” she sets down her iced americano, the chatter of the hospital cafeteria drowned out by your conversation, “you dated Suga from BTS before he was famous, and he broke up with you because you were both leading different lives?” 
You nod. 
She continues, “and you see him in person for the first time in 8 years, and you don’t talk to him?!” 
“Wait why are you yelling at me?!” 
“Because, dummy,” she leans over the table and flicks your forehead, “he’s been on your mind a lot lately and suddenly he’s at your job! It’s not a coincidence.” 
It’s only been about a week since you saw Yoongi, and of course your attempts to get him out of your mind has been fruitless. 
“What am I meant to do? Drop everything and run to him?” You ask incredulously, angrily digging your spoon in your yogurt. 
Jenni waves her hand haphazardly, “No, no. You catch up with him, see how he’s doing now that he’s a world famous rapper- oh my god, _____ you let go of him?! You didn’t fight for him?!” 
“You said you weren’t going to judge me!” 
“That was before I learned exactly what you did! Dumb girl,” Jenni shakes her head disapprovingly, “and you’ve settled for Mr. Brainiac instead.” 
Jenni isn’t the biggest fan of Junwoo. 
“Mr. Brainiac is nice and sweet and knows how to treat me right,” You explain quietly, the fruit in your yogurt seemingly tasteless on your tongue, “but...”
“But he’s not Yoongi?” Jenni tilts her head. 
“I don’t think anyone can ever compare to Yoongi. I’m sure it’s unrequited at this point.” As much as you hate to admit it, that’s the part that broke your heart the most about seeing Yoongi. The fact that you couldn’t bare to look at him for more than a second, because it just wasn’t the same as before. It will never been the same as before. 
Jenni shrugs, “you won’t know until you find out.” 
“And I’m supposed to... what? Show up at his house?” 
Jenni’s eyes seem to trail behind you, and a grin on her face, “When is Jungkook supposed to get his sutures removed?”
Confused, you raise an eyebrow and turn around in your chair to see none other than the man of the hour, Min Yoongi. Instead of being dressed in rehearsal clothes like the other day, Yoongi wears all black with a silver bag wrapped around his torso. 
You whip back around and glare at Jenni, “I swear to god if you call him-” 
“Suga!” Jenni calls out before you can finish your sentence. Your head falls into your hands with another frustrated moan. Jenni waves her hand to him, Yoongi watching warily before he spots that you’re sat right across from her. 
He hesitates for a moment, noticing the way you drag knees to your chest which is a nervous tick you have had since before Yoongi had met you. However, he realizes that if he ever wants to talk to you, now would be the best time. Having followed Jungkook to the hospital for the sole purpose of possibly bumping into you, he had to make due with any interaction he could get. 
Jenni gets up and leaves as Yoongi walks his way over to you. Your head is now buried in your knees, but you hear the chair screech across from you. 
“Hi again.” 
You lift your head up, “Hi, Suga. How is life?” 
You can see hurt flash through Yoongi’s face at your use of his stage name, but he shakes it off, “Life is going pretty well. How about yours?” 
“It’s going well.” 
You still haven’t made direct eye contact with him. Despite having not seen you in person in so many years, his heart ached in his chest at the thought that you may still be hurt. Who is he kidding, though? He’s still hurt by the decision himself. 
With a sigh, he scoots his chair forward, “Are we going to pretend that there isn’t a history behind us?” 
You laugh bitterly, “Haven’t you been doing a pretty good job of that for the passed eight years?” 
Yoongi’s jaw drops. You don’t remember Yoongi ever showing his emotions so freely on his face. That was one of the good things from the interviews you have seen, those 6 boys have opened up Yoongi more and more to his emotions. You feel bad for your response, but you’re unsure how to apologize. 
“I didn’t want to end things just much as you didn’t,” He bites, ignoring the tinge in his heart, “I want to catch up. It’s nice seeing you again.” 
“I have a boyfriend.” You say, your yogurt seeming much more interesting than it was moments before. 
He clears his throat, “That’s okay.” 
“Because I had to move on.” 
“That’s okay.” He repeats, his fingertips drumming along the table top. He hasn’t been chewing his nails lately. That’s good for him. Though, the nervous habit has developed into something different, the drumming of his finger tips echoing more and more in your head as the awkward silence mulls on. Even in a loud cafeteria, your mind only focused on him.
With out thinking much of it, you reach your hand forward and place it on top of his to get the drumming to stop. Yoongi looks up at you while you hold your hand atop of his. For a moment, the silence continues as you stare into his deep brown eyes. You’re transported back to your late teens, where you felt as though you were on top of the world with Min Yoongi by your side. He stared at you as if you were his entire universe, spending night after night cuddled up together, talking about your dreams and aspirations while simultaneously chasing them together. 
Well, it used to be together, but instead you had to push yourself through your dreams alone.
Yoongi’s the first to break the silence, letting a dry chuckle fall effortlessly from his lips while he stares down at your touching hands, “You used to do the same thing if you saw me biting my nails.”
Even though you want to be mad, you wand to walk away and never speak to him again, you can’t. Instead, you nibble on your lip in an attempt to stifle your giggle. Yoongi notices and realizes he’s making good headway into conversation. 
“You told me to help you stop, the only thing that seemed to get you to stop was-” 
“Your touch?” Yoongi suggests, a teasing gummy grin on his face. 
“Yeah,” you finally let out a laugh, “my touch distracted you from a lot of things.” 
The people in the cafeteria didn’t seem to be bothered by the two of you in the center of the room. Busy doctors and nurses trying to get their lunch in, loved ones of patients desperately waiting to hear if their surgeries went well, all is forgotten as you fall into the same pit you found yourself in many years ago. Bottomless, but bright. Visions of the future dancing along you as you fall deeper and deeper. Although now, it seems to be visions of what could have been. 
“Of course it did, how could I focus when I had your pretty face in front of me?” Yoongi’s tone is still teasing, but melancholy wades through his words. 
You slip your hand away hesitantly, and Yoongi’s wrist twitches at the sudden loss of contact. “That’s the reason it ended, isn’t it?” 
This is a conversation that Yoongi is not ready for, but at this point he’ll take anything he can get with you, “What do you mean?” 
“You broke up with me because you knew I’d distract you from your dream.” 
He brings the hand you once held upward, scorching skin touching the back of his neck nervously as he takes a deep breath, “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t play a part.” 
You inhale and drop your legs from the edge of your chair before leaning forward. After years of questioning whether or not you would ever move on, you finally have the chance to get some closure. “What was the final straw?” 
He bites his lip, “I was able to fall asleep without you.” 
You didn’t think you’d be able to feel your heart sink as deep as it has. Even after all these years, your emotions are bubbling to the surface. How can something so simple break your heart so badly? 
“You were in school during the day and I was training at night,” he continues, “we never saw each other and I struggled for so long to fall asleep without you next to me. Then... one day my head hit the pillow and I fell asleep immediately.” 
Another knife to your chest. 
“Did you struggle at all? After the break up, I mean.” You try to search for some sense of regret in his eyes but he’s always been very good at putting up a wall and having people fight for a way in. 
He laughs bitterly, “Of course I struggled. Are you kidding me? I thought I was going to marry you, have kids with you. I was nearly inconsolable once it really set in that you weren’t going to be with me anymore.” 
You swallow anxiously, “But it was really for the best, yeah? You’ve got your career and I’ve got mine. We’re both successful. Given, you’re entirely more successful than I am but I’m happy with where I’m at.” 
“Don’t say that,” Yoongi breaths, “you worked your ass off to get to where you are, you’re just as successful as I am.” 
“You think we wouldn’t have got to where we are if we stayed together.” It’s more of a statement than a question, but Yoongi seems to ponder on his answer. 
“I think we were young and didn’t know much about life. It was a shitty time for both of us, but I did and still do think that in some aspect of the word, you are my soulmate.” 
Your breath hitches at the word. 
Beyond already having thought this yourself, the realization that Yoongi thinks it as well causes your chest to flush with heat. The adoration you felt years ago when Yoongi’s hair was always styled neatly in a mohawk and you had no clue how to use eyeliner still rests itself neatly at the bottom of your heart. Hearing Yoongi even say the word ‘soulmate’ nearly reduced you to a puddle of tears. 
Yoongi notices that you haven’t let out a breath, “Fuck,” he’s panicking, running his hand anxiously through his hair, “fuck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to freak you out, I- I-” He cuts himself off and allows his head to fall into his hands. 
A moment passes, and he seems to gather himself once he hears you exhale, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you last. I dreamed about what I wanted to say to you and insisted on being the one to drive Jungkook to the hospital today with just the hope and slightest chance that I might run into you.” 
“What’s your plan here, then?” 
“I want to be friends.” He proposes. 
You scoff, “Do you have time for friends now?” 
He sighs, expecting the reply but still feeling his chest tighten, “Let’s hang out on a day where the two of us have nothing going on. When are you off next?” 
“I have a boyfriend.” You reiterate, raising an eyebrow. 
“Not a date,” he dismisses you, “just as friends. When are you off next?” 
Crossing your arms, you eye him suspiciously as he widens his eyes in an attempt to push you towards an answer. 
“Saturday.” 
“Great,” he breathes, “I’ll make sure I’m free that day too.” 
~*~*~
Maybe you are taking a bit too much time getting ready for a man who has already seen you at your worst. Maybe you purposely wore purple lipstick in an attempt to show that you have been paying attention to his career and maybe, just maybe, you are way too happy to be hanging out with Min Yoongi once again. 
That doesn’t take away from your nervousness, though. Your hand shakes as you finish applying your mascara. You don’t live in a nice mansion like Yoongi does, and you’re terrified that someone will spot him picking you up from your apartment and all hell will break loose. You’ve read some of the tabloids involving anyone close to the group, so your anxiety is nearly palpable. 
“Get a grip,” you whisper to yourself, “you’ve seen this man naked before. There’s no need to be nervous.” 
As you finish your make up, you move on to your hair but stop once you hear a knock on your door. 
Yoongi isn’t supposed to be here for another half hour. 
“Fuck.” you whisper, standing quickly from your vanity mirror and rushing towards the front door in a panic. You peep through the lens in the door, confusion striking you when you spot Junwoo. 
The lock turns loudly and you slide open the door, “Hi?”
His eyes raise from the ground until he meets yours, “You’re awfully dressed up just to be hanging at home.” 
“I have plans.” You state, slipping your undone hair behind your ear. You couldn’t help but notice the instant meekness you felt take over your body the moment you saw Junwoo. 
“With me?” He questions, stepping into your apartment. His black hair is pushed back with way too much gel to be comfortable, the honey brown eyes that usually comforted you suddenly made you feel uneasy. 
You shake your head in response, “An old friend. He and I are-” 
“He?” Junwoo cuts you off, much louder than he was moments before. You take a step back at the sudden change of tone, your jaw nearly dropping at his audacity. 
“Yes, he. Is that a problem?” It was probably in your best interest not to challenge Junwoo. If there is anything you learned in your short time together it’s that he was very good at manipulating your words. He claims it’s his way of reading deeper into the situation but you think your intentions are pretty surface-level. 
Junwoo didn’t seem to expect your attitude, backing down immediately with a nervous scratch to the back of his neck. “Well, I don’t know how I feel about you hanging out with another guy.” 
A scoff leaves your mouth as you scan Junwoo’s posture change, “Are you one of those people who assumes men and women can’t be platonic friends?” 
“Yes.” 
Well, at least he’s honest. 
You roll your eyes, “I can assure you that he’s just a friend.” 
A friend who you have a long, egregious history with. A friend who’s lips have touched every inch of your body, has seen you break down over text books and has kissed away your tears when you were beginning to reach adulthood. 
But yeah, a friend nonetheless. 
“Are you still going to hang out with him if I tell you I’m uncomfortable with it?” Junwoo presses, puffing out his chest. 
“I don’t feel like you have the right to tell me who I can and can’t be friends with,” you furrow your brows, “why are you even here?” 
“I wanted to take you to the park, but that’s not important. Were you going to tell me that you were going out with a guy?” Man, Junwoo’s ability to annoy the fuck out of you has seemingly grown beyond a point of retribution in the short 10 minutes he’s been in front of you. 
As you open your mouth to respond, another knock sounds on the door. You let out a small groan, reaching towards the doorknob and turning it swiftly. On the other side is Yoongi, a striped black and white button down unbuttoned on his torso with a white t-shirt underneath. He’s certainly gotten a better fashion sense. 
“Hi, Yoongi. I’m almost ready,” you send a glare in Junwoo’s direction, “I have to finish my hair and I’ll be ready.” 
Junwoo is staring wide-eyed at Yoongi with his jaw dropped. Yoongi looks back at him and subtly crinkles his nose, just enough for you to spot it. 
After a moment, you break the silence, “Yoongi, this is Junwoo. Junwoo,” you gesture to Yoongi, “Suga of BTS.” 
Yoongi lets out a laugh, “Stop introducing me like that to people.” 
“That is your name, isn’t it?” You tease, spinning the black hat on his head backwards. “Anyway, are you heading out, Junwoo?” 
“You didn’t tell me that it was Suga you were hanging out with.” Junwoo speaks accusingly, making you realize that you truly didn’t make any progress throughout your entire conversation. 
“He’s an old friend,” you explain, “I’ll call you later.” 
Junwoo opens his mouth but closes it again. You know it’s more than likely because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of someone so influential. Junwoo cared too much about his image to do anything to disrupt it. One bad word from Yoongi and he was done for. 
Silently, he steps out of your apartment but doesn’t hesitate on slamming the door shut. 
Yoongi glances at you and points to the door, “Him?” 
“I never claimed to make good decisions.” You sigh, causing Yoongi to giggle. “Anyway, let me finish my hair. Help yourself to anything here.” 
“Yes ma’am.” 
You hesitate for a moment before deciding that you didn’t have anything in particular that Yoongi could accidentally get his hands on that would be embarrassing. 
As you walk out of the room, Yoongi runs his fingers along the picture frames on your wall. He remembers these pictures previously sitting on your desk in your parents’ house. Now they were lined perfectly across the off-white painted wall in your living room, images of your family and close friends filling the black painted frames. 
He smiles at the picture of your mother, you’re an exact replica of her. One of the first things he struggled with beyond not seeing you anymore was the fact that he wouldn’t see your family. Despite your relationship being short lived in the beginning, he had grown very close to your family in the process. After the break up, your mother called Yoongi repeatedly asking if he needed food and clothes. He knows that you gained your big heart from her, and he wishes that he can speak with her again. 
Moving on, he spots the familiar picture of you leaning against a bookshelf with Le Fleurs Du Mal by Charles Baudelaire gripped loosely in your hands. He remembers that picture from the end of high school, you insisted on stopping by the local Daegu city library one last time before you both moved to Seoul. Yoongi snapped the picture as an opportunity to remember your hometown, because he was sure the two of you would never be back there again. You would stay together and conquer the world, but unfortunately that never happened. 
Yoongi can’t help but run his fingers along the side of your face, your smile hiding behind the book. Yoongi’s reflection can be seen in the window behind you, his grin just as wide as yours. 
You were in love, and Yoongi misses that.
Of course now it’s not like he can do anything about that. You have a boyfriend who is clearly very loving and trusting in you. 
Yoongi wasn’t necessarily sure what his plan was when he was searching for you in the hospital, nor was he sure what his plan is now that he has you within arms reach of him. Namjoon was sure to tell him how stupid he was for even attempting to get involved with you again even though you have a boyfriend but Yoongi didn’t care. So long as you were in his life somehow, he was willing to make it work. Friends, maybe more. He wasn’t sure, but he wanted whatever he could get. 
He did...okay for a few years without you. He dated on and off but never really developed a connection with anyone the way he had you. He couldn’t help but compare everyone who came into his life to you no matter how hard he tried not to. It’s laughable at best, because deep down in his mind he’s well aware that nobody will ever compare to you. 
“Okay, I’m ready.” 
Yoongi tears his eyes away from the picture and instantaneously rakes his eyes up and down your body, “Whoa.” 
Dressed in a simple leggings and plaid button down combination, it accentuates your curves and causes Yoongi’s mouth to water. 
You let out an embarrassed giggle, “I, uh- I wasn’t sure what we were doing to I tried to dress casually.” 
Yoongi doesn’t stop his eyes from staring at your hips, “It works. Everything about you, works.” 
“Careful now.” You warn jokingly, putting a hand out in an attempt to pause his thoughts. 
Yoongi shakes his head, “Okay, I have a reservation ready for us.” 
You lead him out your door and to the car park, “You better not be taking me to some expensive restaurant because I won’t hesitate to kill you.” 
“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, opening the passenger side door for you, “but if you still love chicken then I may have found the greatest restaurant in existence.” 
Slipping into his car, you wait to respond until he moves over to the drivers side and turns the car on. “You remember that I love chicken?” 
He smiles, gummy and bright just like before, “I remember everything about you.” 
You ignore the flutter in your heart at his words, and sit silently beside him while the radio plays softly from his speakers. The car is far nicer than the one he used to have, and the seats have a warmer that Yoongi seemed to know the perfect temperature of. As he continues to drive on, you try not to watch the way his left hand grips the steering wheel and his right sits idly on his thigh. 
8 years ago, that hand would have been resting on your thigh, fingertips brushing the inner part of your softest flesh while you leaned your head back listened to the melodic tunes of whatever song he made most recently. A few of those tunes have been turned into BTS songs, and you still felt beyond proud of him. 
“Okay, we have to go around the back and through the kitchen. I just don’t want to risk-” 
“Yeah, yeah,” you cut him off, waving your hand dismissively, “you’re hot shot famous guy now. Don’t want to risk getting seen with a lady.” 
Yoongi chuckles, “I may be some hot shot famous guy but I’m still the same person I was a decade ago.” 
You watch as he turns the car off, “Prove it.” 
“What?” He laughs in disbelief. 
“Prove that you’re the same person you were all those years ago.” You push, tongue in cheek while you smirk at the man beside you. He seems to ponder for a moment, puckering his lips in thought before he exits the car and runs over to your side of the car. 
“Come on,” he gestures for you to get up, “hurry up.” 
“Hold your horses, Mister.” you adjust the bag around your torso as you stand and let your eyes fall back to Yoongi. His back is to you and his knees are bent. Hands reach backwards for you and he turns to look at you expectantly. 
Tilting your head, you smile as you hop onto Yoongi’s back. A move he’d do regularly when you’d spend hours on your feet interning at various hospitals around the city. His large hands gripped the back of your thighs and you let out a squeal as he hikes you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist. 
It takes a moment for him to steady his walk as he leads you carefully up to the back door. You lean upward and knock on the back door labeled “staff only” and wait patiently as you feel Yoongi adjust you again. 
“You used to carry me around like this all the time.” You grin, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. It didn’t feel weird hugging him like this. Natural instincts kicked in and the whiff of his cologne had you reeling. It’s exactly the same as he wore before, and his hair smelled of coconut conditioner. Before you would turn his head and kiss his lips every time you caught his scent, and it’s taking everything in you right now not to do exactly that. 
“I did,” you can hear the smile in Yoongi’s voice, “and you never reciprocated.”
“I’ll give you a piggy back on the way out, how about that?” You pat the top of his head as the door opens to reveal a very confused looking employee. 
A sheepish smile is held on Yoongi’s face while the employee realizes who he is. “Mr. Min,” he bows his head, “lovely to have you again. We have your usual table set up in the back.”
“Awesome,” Yoongi drawls sweetly, “lead the way!” 
Heat fills your face as the kitchen staff of the unnamed restaurant watch curiously while Yoongi walks you to the table. 
He doesn’t allow you to get off, instead he turns around and drops you onto the booth seat as you try to silence the squeal that leaves your mouth. Yoongi only laughs as he flips back around to see the top half of your body slip between the table and the seat. He’s quick to help you up but his arms grow weak from laughing so he takes a few moments to pull you back up. You couldn’t help but laugh as well, the ridiculousness of the situation bringing back memories.
“I’m sorry,” he says, inhaling another laugh as he slips into the seat opposite of you, “I didn’t think you would fall.” 
You adjust the hat on your head, “It’s fine, I didn’t need my equilibrium to work properly anyway.” 
Yoongi can’t help but watch you carefully as you open the menu. Your nose still crinkled when you came across a dish you may not particularly like, and your eyes widened whenever you saw something that you thought looked good. 
Both of you decided on a beer to drink and various flavors of dry rub wings to enjoy. As you waited on your food to be cooked, you sip your beer and suck your teeth while you decide whether or not you want to ask him all your dying questions. 
Deciding to start small, you took a deep breath as Yoongi met your eyes, “How much did they have to fight you to get you to start dancing?” 
He let out a sigh of relief, half expecting the awkwardness of your history together to take over, “I almost quit like four times, I won’t lie.” 
You giggle, “I figured. You do well, though. I was amazed by your Seesaw performance when you started dancing on your own up there. Genuinely was the last thing I expected. 
Yoongi doesn’t respond, he only smiles widely with his head rested gently on his hand. You tilt your head as his eyes scan yours, “What?” You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, wanting the world to swallow you up at the thought that you could have come across as weird or creepy by knowing so much about Yoongi’s career. 
“You watch my performances?” He questions, his smile not dropping. A hint of pink brushes the tip of his nose. 
“Of course,” you say almost incredulously, “you’re everywhere. It’s hard not to.” 
“What’s your favorite song?” Yoongi presses, leaning forward to show you’ve piqued his interest. 
Okay, there’s no way you’re going to let him think he has some sort of head over you.
“Cypher part 3.” you say confidently. 
“Oh?” 
“Mhm,” you hum, nibbling on the bottom of your lip for a moment before deciding to say why it was your favorite, “specifically the part where you say you’re a starfish feeding off the envy of others.” 
“Ah, yes. Truly a fan favorite. You should hear the cheers when I explain what my tongue can do.” Yoongi whispers the latter half of his sentence, causing your throat to go dry. His tongue is skillful in many ways, not just rapping, and you were well aware of that. Decadence rested on the tip of his tongue, and you’d like to think that you contributed to his *ahem* practice. 
He pulls away with a cheeky grin just as the waiter comes by with steaming plates of food. 
The affect that his words had on you still amazes you to this day. Maybe he does have a head above you, and maybe you’re okay with that. 
The rest of the dinner goes by with a breeze, the two of you laughing over drinks and trying each other’s food. It didn’t take long for you to fall into a comfortable fit with Yoongi, even though so much time had passed. It was like he never left, and he truly is still the same person he was before. He laughs the same, his shoulders shakes and his grin is always huge. Although his hair style changes and his fashion sense has gotten better, you still see the old Yoongi poking out whenever he laughed particularly hard. 
Being face to face with him has allowed you to compare to the younger him, though. His face has slimmed and his voice has gotten deeper, the adam’s apple you kiss at night was larger than before and his neck was longer. Despite all that, he was still the same. Fame hadn’t changed him a bit. 
The moment the check comes you snatch it up quickly. 
“_____.” the way Yoongi says your name shoots a chill down your spine, but you ignore it when you slip your cash into the designated sleeve. 
“Yoongi.” You mock, handing the sleeve back to the waitress who seems scared of Yoongi’s deep tone. 
“I was supposed to pay.” He pouts, leaning back in the booth and crossing his arms over his chest. 
“Be faster then.” You grin, standing up and crouching in front of Yoongi’s side. 
He laughs, remembering your promise from earlier and slipping onto your back. The path you to through the kitchen is a bit less crowded now, but you felt the same amount of eyes on you the entire time. You felt much less embarrassed about it now, though, because Yoongi had a way of calming you down even at your worst points. 
“The night is still young,” Yoongi speaks as he slips off of your back and unlocks his car, “would you like to revisit Yongsan Park?” 
“Always.” 
It wasn’t a far drive from the restaurant, and it was spent mostly talking about music and the new album that Yoongi was extremely proud of. Of course you had already listened to it but you didn’t want to take away from his excitement of showing you some of the songs. 
When you made it to the park, the lights lining the jogging path were already on. You hadn’t expected it to be so dark yet but fall time always had a habit of sneaking up on you. 
There was an intense rush of nostalgia associated with this park for the both of you. Nights where the two of you huddled close under the stars were spent here, right beneath the biggest tree in the park. It was unspoken that that was your spot, and you hadn’t been to it since you broke up. 
Yet, muscle memory kicks in and both of your legs carry you right to the tree. 
“Isn’t it funny how we spent so many nights here?” You bring up as you sit at the base of the tree. 
Yoongi nods, “So many nights in this exact spot.” 
“I love it here, it was our spot.” 
Yoongi’s proximity to you is much closer than it should be but neither of you are making any move to change it. His shoulder brushes against yours and you resist the urge to rest your head on his shoulder. 
“It still is.” He corrects, tapping your knee gently with his hand and resting in there. 
You freeze for a moment, not knowing how to process his touch anymore but you can’t push him away. In fact, you’re relishing in the heat burning on your skin beneath his hand. It’s one of the best feelings in the world. 
“Do you remember when you tried to scare me by climbing a tree and the branch broke?” Yoongi looks up, and you can tell he’s trying not to laugh at the memory. 
“Yeah but that was because I was trying to get you back for pouring ice water on me when I fell asleep on my text book.” You roll your eyes at the memory, distinctly remembering the chill on your back while Yoongi cackled in your small one bedroom apartment. 
That same cackle leaves Yoongi’s lips from beside you. You snap your head towards him, “Oh you think it’s funny still?” 
“Yeah,” his laugh turns into a giggle, “you can still see the broken branch.” 
“What?” You glance up, and sure enough the branch is still gone. Your jaw drops and you use your hands to push Yoongi over. He doesn’t fight you on it and falls with ease even though you didn’t use very much pressure at all, and you’re quick to try and wrestle him down. “It must be so funny,” you groan as you try to pin him down, straddling your legs on either side of his waist, “to still be pinned by- holy shit you’ve gotten strong.” 
Yoongi takes his opportunity to flip the two of you over, switching positions and easily pinning your hands on either side of your head. Vaguely, you wonder how much time it took for him to gain so much strength, but your mind quickly shifts once you realize the precarious position that Yoongi has put you in. 
Glancing down, you see his hips rest just above your navel, and images of the many nights you shared together flash through your mind. Rushed breathing and sweaty skin sticking together as you explored each other’s bodies and always found new ways to please each other. Briefly, a rush of heat flashes through your lower abdomen at the way your imagination flushes with possibilities of Yoongi’s touch. 
You inhale, your chest heaving and Yoongi’s eyes fly to the way your cleavage displays itself for him. You’ve gotten fuller than before, and it suits you. He’s enjoying every second of it. 
Before he can stop himself, he leans down and smashes his lips onto yours. The grip on your wrists loosen just enough for you to slip out and have your hands flying to his cheeks. He tastes the same as he did before, his smell intoxicating as it fills your nose. Your senses are overwhelmed with him, his tastes, his scent, the way his lips feel against yours. The familiarity is there, but they feel new and exciting at the same time, like you were pushed back to your youth. 
He exhales against you as if he’s been waiting all night to do just this. Slipping his legs out from beneath him, he presses his chest against yours as your hands slide to the back of his neck to hold him against you. The rest of the world falls, dissolving into nothing. You keen helplessly as you feel him grind against you, and that noise seems to push Yoongi over the edge. He growls into your mouth, pulling away to start his descent onto your neck with bites and licks in all the places you loved before. 
Arching into him, your hands loop through his black locks with a gasp as his tongue licks at your wine kissed collarbones. 
This is everything you’ve been wishing for. Everything feels so right. 
Yet, it’s wrong. You need to stop him. You need to ask him to pull away. But you can’t. He feels too fucking good. It’s not until he reaches the stop of your chest, his fingers hesitantly reaching at your collar does he look into your eyes for permission. 
And you stop him. 
“I- I think I need to go have a very uncomfortable conversation with Junwoo.” You state, and Yoongi’s face drops. 
“I can’t believe you still managed to think about him when I was kissing you.” He says nearly incredulously, crawling off of you and leaning his back against the tree again. His chest is rising and falling faster than before, showing that your affect on him was much stronger than you previously had thought. 
Your heart twinged at Yoongi’s cold tone. You swallow, “If you think there’s a possibility of us continuing this, I have to end things with Junwoo.” 
Yoongi whines, “Why now?” 
You let out a little giggle, sitting up and leaning your head on his shoulder like you wanted to before. “Even if I didn’t do it right now, I don’t think we could go any further in the middle of a park.” 
“I thought you liked exhibitionism.” Yoongi leans to the side, kissing you once again. It’s much breathier than before, and he prays that you don’t feel his heart pounding wildly in his rib cage at the mere thought of someone catching the two of you outside. 
You gasp into the kiss and force yourself to pull away even though you didn’t want to at all. Giving him a look, Yoongi sighs. 
“Okay, okay. I’ll drive you home so you can have that uncomfortable conversation.” He mutters, standing up and pulling you with him. He’s much more touchy than before, his arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders while he guides you back to his car. 
The conversation you’re about to have with Junwoo will truly be one of the most anxiety inducing things you’ve ever done. 
~*~*~
The dorms are dark when Yoongi arrives back. The living room in which everyone has a tendency to congregate after a particularly grueling practice day holds no one, a small reminder that everyone finally got some well deserved rest. 
He hums softly to the tune of ‘People’, one of his favorite songs from his recent mixtape and opens the fridge to grab a bottle of water. When he closes it, Jimin is standing on the other side. 
Yoongi jumps, “Jesus fucking christ, Park Jimin!” 
“Didja get back together with her?” 
“What?” Yoongi takes a second to assess Jimin’s pajama clad body, “N- no. We just hung out.” 
“It’s a shame,” Jimin reaches forward and grabs the water bottle from Yoongi’s hand, “I heard you humming so I figured you finally got laid.” Yoongi opens his mouth to protest but Jimin continues before he can, “You know, I’ve known you for so long and I don’t think you’ve ever had a woman sign an NDA? Have you even had sex since you broke up with the pretty nurse?” 
“I feel like that’s none of your business.” Yoongi yanks the water bottle back, opening it and praying that Jimin didn’t backwash. 
“But it is my business because I have no clue how you did it. I’m sure she was fucking other guys regularly. I hear it’s bad for women to go without sex because they turn into-” Yoongi attempts to drown out the sounds of his roommate, his hand gripping the counter top tightly with unwanted images of you in another man’s bed ripping through his brain, “-and I’ve always wondered what it was like to only ever have your hand to get yourself off. Is it lonely? How much porn do you-” 
“Jimin!” Yoongi shouts. 
“Cutting me off is awfully rude, don’t you think?” 
“Shut. the. fuck. up.” Yoongi grits his teeth, moving to walk away as Jimin laughs. 
“Called it! I knew you were a born again virgi-” 
“Goodnight!” Yoongi calls back, walking up to his room and locking the door behind him. He plops down onto his bed, the TV situated perfectly level with his bed. It’s a stark contrast to the small black and white TV he could afford all those years ago, so the familiar sound of his TV sounding on brings a smile to his face as he realizes yet again how fortunate he’s become. 
Now he’s determined to make sure you feel the same sense of fortune that he has. Because he has you back in his life. Was it a twist of fate or the inevitability of soulmates, Yoongi isn’t sure. However, he’s immensely grateful to have you back, even if you’re not truly his yet. 
~*~*~
"I’m breaking up with you.” 
“What?!” 
You cover your mouth as the unexpected sentence leaves your mouth. Junwoo sits in his office with his fists clenched tightly on top of his desk. He’s never been particularly good at hearing bad news, and even though it’s only been a few months you feel as though you’re signing divorce papers judging my his reaction. 
It’s been two days since you last saw Yoongi. You put off speaking to Junwoo for a little bit to try and figure out exactly what you were going to say to him. You had a whole speech ready, talking about how he deserves better and that he’ll find his soulmate eventually. 
But when the moment came, your speech was practically thrown to the ceiling fan and torn into a million pieces.
“W- why? What did I do?” Junwoo asks, he seems more angry than anything which you didn’t expect. 
“You didn’t do anything,” you sigh, plopping in the seat on the other side of his desk, “I just don’t think it’s going to work out.” 
“Everything was going so well!” Oh god, he’s yelling. “It’s that fucker Suga’s fault, isn’t it? He’s putting you up to this!” 
“Fucking hell, Junwoo! How old are you, honestly? Immediately assuming that it was Yoongi is the most childish thing you could have done.” It is Yoongi, though. You know that, and unfortunately Junwoo knows that as well. It isn’t in good conscience to deny his allegations but you can’t help but do so. 
Though, the inevitability of your relationship ending would have happened with out without Yoongi’s push. 
“Well excuse me for thinking you would fuck a member of the biggest band on the planet! For God’s sake, any whore would drop their pants for one of them.” 
Your jaw drops, “I didn’t fuck him.” 
Junwoo rolls his eyes, “Are you sure? Because it’s almost like I could smell the stench coming off of you.” 
You place your tongue in your cheek, biting back a response. Should have figured the man wouldn’t know how to take a break up. 
Then, you laugh, “Okay. You got me, I fucked him.” 
“I knew it.” Junwoo’s nostrils flare. 
“Hundreds of times, eight years ago,” You spit, standing up quick enough for the chair behind you to tip over. “it wasn’t working out anyway and clearly that’s for the best. The last thing I need is a chauvinist asshole who refuses to see what was right in front of him.” 
“I-” 
“No,” you put your hand up, “I’m done.” 
You turn around swiftly, walking out of his office and ignoring the stares from his receptionists. Surely they heard the yelling and the last thing you needed was to feel judged. 
Except you weren’t being judged. Just before you reached the elevator, one of the girls spoke out. “You’re the second break up he’s had this week, don’t feel bad.” 
You turn around, watching her flick vivaciously through a magazine. “What was that?” You speak slowly, turning around walking up to the desk. 
“Another woman came by earlier this week, she said he’s been fucking some nurse behind her back and threw a ring at him.” She shrugs, then leans forward with a whisper, “You’re better off without him.” 
You scoff, “and I had the decency to break up with him before I fucked someone else. Thanks for the tip, darling.” 
As soon as the elevator doors close, you whip out your phone and text Yoongi. 
To: Suga Delivered: 13:52
Deed is done if you still want me to come by 
You make it to your car and hear your phone ding. 
From: Suga Received: 13:57
I’ll meet you outside
Your heart flutters, so you start your car and drive as quickly as you can towards the directions of the dorm. It’s not hard, everyone in Seoul is keenly aware of where BTS stay, but there’s an unspoken rule that nobody is to bother them. One of the things you enjoyed most about this whole situation is the amount of respect they boys have earned, and you couldn’t feel more proud of Yoongi. 
The gated group of buildings is intimidating to say the least, but you’re unable to contain your excitement as you pull up. Yoongi is a few feet away, waving from the other side of the gate as he presses a few buttons before you hear the gate click and begin to side open. 
Your excitement over simply seeing him is nearly too much to contain. A week ago you struggled to not get nauseous at the thought of him seeing you but now you didn’t know how you ever made it without him. Inching your car forward became an arduous task because it took precious seconds away from you being able to kiss Yoongi once again. 
So, you throw your car into park as the gates slip closed behind you and run out of your car to jump towards Yoongi. 
He catches you, immediately slamming your lips onto his. It’s soft this time, the urgency isn’t there but he doesn’t mind the feeling of your hands gently tugging at his hair and scratching his scalp. 
“Mm,” he hums against your lips, “does this mean you’re mine again?” 
“With some adjustments to both of our lives,” you smile, “and making time for each other, then I’m willing to try again.” 
“Good,” he grins, “let me take you inside and show you how much I’m gonna try.” 
He slides you down his torso and grabs your hand, yanking you closely behind him. You let out a quiet yelp as he does so, following him into the building and welcoming the warmth that greets you. You’re lead through a long hallway but are stopped abruptly once Yoongi spots Hoseok walking through the living room. 
“Hey pretty nurse, and Yoongi.” Hoseok says without looking up, and Yoongi lets out a sigh of relief. 
You give him a questioning look but shake it off when Yoongi leads you up a lot of stairs and straight to his bedroom. 
“Okay, there’s two ways this can go-” Yoongi slips his shirt over his head and you try to process everything as it’s happening because holy shit you’re going to fuck Yoongi for the first time in years and might actually be able to have an orgasm “-slow and steady or hard and fast.” 
“Save the romance for next time,” you giggle, slipping your dress over your head and falling backwards onto his bed, “I haven’t had you inside me in years. Hard and fast.” 
He chuckles, “You got it baby.” 
He jumps on top of you, his hand flying to your thigh to steady your leg as he grinds his still clothed cock into your core. He’s already hard, and you’re already dripping. The last two days you spent not being near him was the most difficult thing you had experienced because you knew what was coming and how he was going to do it. 
And you’re loving every second of it. 
Spreading your legs wide, you reach between the two of you and play with the hem of his boxers. He groans into your mouth, inching upward so your hand slips further in, “No teasing, baby girl. Hard and fast.” 
“Right, yes. I’m sorry.” you bite his bottom lip before lifting your hips and feeling his hands loop on either side of your panties to slip them down your legs. He drops between your legs immediately and inhales your scent, tossing his head back in pleasure. 
“Fuck, just like I remember.” Yoongi dives back, his nose brushing against your aching clit while his tongue darts out and licks your quivering hole. You let out a quiet moan but are quick to cover your mouth as you remember there are six other men on the other side of these thin walls. 
The pleasure of knowing that he remembers your scent is enough to send you feral, your back arching off the bed as his lips finally wrap around your clit and sucks hard. The obscene sound of him drinking in your juices fills the room, his groans against your core sending chills up your spine. If there was anything you knew about Min Yoongi, it’s that he knew how to use his tongue. 
You fill your core begin to heat up as your orgasm builds and before you know it, you’re uncovering your mouth and letting out a moan loud enough to be heard for miles. 
Yoongi can’t help but smirk against you as he drinks in your release, moving to trail kisses up your abdomen as you come down from the pleasure. 
“You ready for more?” He kisses your lips, and it’s then that you notice his cock his gloriously hard against his stomach, boxers long discarded. 
“Please, yes. Please please plea-” 
“Alright, hold your horses.” Yoongi jokes, brushing the head of his cock against your slit a few times teasingly. 
You pout, “You said no teasing.” 
He nods, “I can’t help it. Your face is so cute when you’re begging for my cock.” 
As you’re thinking of a rebuttal, Yoongi finally slips inside. Both of you moan in pleasure at the clenching of your core. He remembers exactly how to move to get you to gasp, how deep to move to get you to clench, and he remembers what each of your movements mean. Your nails currently dig into his back harshly but he doesn’t complain, because that means his thrusts are going at just the right speed. 
He wishes you can scream like you used to, but he realizes how weird that could be for his bandmates to hear. However, he can’t say that he necesarily minds all things considered. He’d love for Jimin to hear what he’s doing to you after the way his smart mouth moved the other night. He could imagine his face as he listens, but then Yoongi is dragged back to the moment when he feels you clench particularly hard. 
You feel him tensing more and more, struggling to hold on as your vice grip on him tightens even further. The soft sponge of your warm cunt is nearly too much for him to bare, and as you feel your second orgasm approach, you grip Yoongi’s face in your hands, “Cum for me. Please.” His eyes flutter closed and he begins to thrust faster, lips on yours and sweat building on both of your foreheads. Then, your second orgasm washes over you deliciously, Yoongi’s hips stuttering before he follows with his own release, his cum coating your walls white. He’s still for a moment, gasping above you. When you reach up and brush the hair from his forehead, he collapses on top of you, “Fuck, that’s even better than I remembered.” 
“Good,” you giggle, kissing his nose, “because there’s so much more I want to try with you.”
His heart flutters irrevocably, knocking the wind out of him when he realizes that you’re in this for the long run just as he is. This time he swears he’s going to make it work, and he plans on spending the rest of his life with you. 
His lips brush against you once again, then he speaks. 
“Write me a list, baby girl.” 
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general-fanfiction · 5 years
Text
It’s A Boring Story. (Sweet Pea x Reader)
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Summary: Sweet Pea remembers the story of how he ended up dating a Northsider.
Word Count: 2,073
Gif Not Mine. Requests Are Open!
Warnings: Swearing? Self Harm, Sexual Harassment.
Third Person POV. She was shy, sweet and quiet. He was confident, rude and loud. They were the last people anybody would have expected to get together. Yet it happened. The intimidating lion was dating the timid mouse. It was completely cliché, but still people couldn't get enough of their relationship. Even Cheryl Blossom, the school's queen bee, was desperate for details. Though, it was safe to say, Y/N and Sweet Pea were rather private when it came to their relationship. It wasn't that they didn't want anybody to know, in fact they didn't care about people knowing of their relationship. It was simply that they would rather not have anybody getting involved. Meddling in something so personal to each of the teenagers could severely damage the strong bond they had built between one another. Neither one of them was prepared to risk that. "You've been dating this Northsider for months now. Surely you've defiled the angel by now." Fangs' comment caused Sweet Pea to clench his teeth. Especially when he used the name 'angel'. That was his nickname for her, not that anybody knew that of course. The Serpent turned his attention to the row of lockers across from him, gazing at the girl in question. A soft smile set upon his features as he watched her skirt ride up her thighs hen she lifted her arm, reaching for the top shelf in her locker. Fangs gently nudged his taller friends, causing his eyes to land back on him. "You waste too much time prying into my relationship." As the words tumble from Sweet Pea's mouth, three people appear by their side. Three females. Cheryl Blossom, Toni Topaz and Betty Cooper. Their eyes follow Sweet Pea's, all three pairs landing on Y/N, who now stands in conversation with Kevin Keller. Cheryl and Toni glance at each, knowing looks on both of their faces. The boy has fallen off the deep end and now he's drowning. He knows it too. Even if he doesn't want to admit it. "You love her." Cheryl points out, looking between Sweet Pea and his girlfriend. Pea is taken back by the comment, eyebrows knitting together. Toni laughs softly at his lack of speech. Fangs punches his friend, happy that finally he has done some good for himself. Sweet Pea lets his shoulders fall, releasing a deep breath as he silently admits to the group that they're correct. "I never thought I would see the day that Sweet Pea fell in love." Toni smirks as she speaks, pleased that if anybody could make her best friend happy that it was Y/N. "So I think everybody is wondering the same thing. How did you two end up together?" Betty asks curiously, prepared to be shot down completely, like any other time a question has been asked about their relationship. Pea watches his girlfriend as she moves, her hands gently tugging on the soft, woolly sweater that hangs delicately off her small frame. The way her hair falls around her face messily, causing her to continuously push it behind her ears. He remembers the first time he ever saw her do that. Actions so small but somehow beautiful to him. Despite meeting under such strange circumstances, the Serpent knows he wouldn't have it any other way. Eight Months Ago. Y/N's POV. Honeydew's Tattoo Studio isn't the most ideal job, especially for a sixteen year old girl. I'm the lowly receptionist, simply taking bookings and greeting those that arrive for their appointments. It's a pretty simple job, so long as you don't mind the long hours. Which I don't. I'm on my own tonight, the owner's are out of town at some convention. They were considering closing the studio, however, decided against it at the possibility of losing clients. I offered to cover the weekend shifts, it's less depressing than staying in my bedroom all day. The sky begins to darken as the sun sets over the large row opposite the shop. Flicking the lights on, I smile slightly, the entire place instantly ten times brighter. It gives off a friendly vibe, it's welcoming. Well, as welcoming as a place with black walls can be. Sliding my phone out of my pocket, I open the messaging app. Hoping that I'll find a text from my mother. Much like usual, I find that I have no new notifications. At this point, I'm not too sure why I bother to look. She hasn't been in contact in years, despite her promises to do so. I guess I just assumed because she was my mother she would care, but clearly I was mistaken. Placing my phone on the desk, I open the drawer slowly. Eyes falling on the small bag of blades that I carry everywhere with me. Pulling on my sweater sleeve, I graze my hand over the rows of scars. Some old, some new. The fresh ones are obvious. Still red, dying to open once again. Instinctively my hand reaches out for the bag, but as the door to the shop flies open I yank down my sleeve and shove the drawer shut. "Listen I'm in deep shit and I need your help. Please just let me hide out here for fifteen minutes or so." The boy is out of breath, face red from either the cold or running. My guess is a combination of both. I don't speak, simply grab his hand and lead him towards the staff toilets. His hands are huge compared to mine, my fingertips pressed gently on the palm of his hand. When I open the door, he shoots me a wide grin, happily entering the small room without question. Turning the key, I lock the door, making sure that I can do whatever it takes to keep him safe. By the looks of it, he needs it. Slipping the key into the small metal safe, hidden behind a rather large mirror, I manage to convince myself that I've done a pretty good job. My nerves slowly beginning to fade. That is until I hear the door of the shop open for the second time this evening. Several pairs of footsteps entering the building. Taking a deep breath, I round the corner, allowing my presence to be known. Three men stand by the door, each holding baseball bats riddled with nails. Slowly my eyes make their way up to the faces of the men. Based off the studded jackets and downright ragged appearances, I'd assume the men are Ghoulies. Gulping slightly, I watch as one of them makes his way towards me. The hair on top of his head is immensely curly and I try to keep my focus on that so I don't have to stare into his hollow, emotionless eyes. "You know where our friend is? He swung by here a few minutes ago." He asks, voiced sweet almost as though he is talking to a child. Shaking my head slightly, I feel myself filling with dread at the possibility of what may happen. Of what these men are capable of. The curly haired man raises his baseball bat, swinging it into the computer that sits on top of the desk. Wincing at the noise, I do nothing to stop as they make their way through to the back. Following quietly, they all look rather amused as they peer around the room. "He wouldn't happen to be in that room there would he?" Before I even have time to answer his question, he is striding over. Hand on the doorknob, pulling on it as hard as he physically can. No matter how much he struggles with it, the door won't budge and the frustration is evident on his face. "Where's the key?" He asks, voice impatient and demanding causing me to shrink back. "I don't know. My boss is out of town, they probably have it." I lie, doing my best to make my voice seem convincing despite the present fear. He growls in anger, kicking over a table of ink. Each jar shatters, sending an array of colour to spill across the tiled floor. When my bosses get back, they're going to be pissed. I'm most likely going to get fired, all for the sake of saving one boy that I don't even know. Sometime I really do wonder how I find myself in these situations. "Strip." Raising my eyebrows, I step back nervously. The three men edge closer, cornering me by the desk Shock evident on my face, the leader of the pack places a hand on my face. Although his touch is gentle, I can still feel the aggression behind the movement. "I asked for the fucking key and I don't believe that you don't have it on you. So strip." Small tears escape my eyes as I kick off my shoes. My mom always taught me that if a guy is pressuring you to do something, then just do it. Don't put up a fight, it will only make things worse. Besides, according to her it's better to face a few minutes of embarrassment and pain rather than the consequences of trying to defend myself. Skirt falling to the floor, I daren't look at their faces. Not willing myself to see how much they're enjoying this. Reluctantly, I pull my sweater over my head, leaving myself exposed to the men in front of me. Out of habit, I try to wrap my arms around myself, in a futile attempt to cover myself up. The leader smirks at me as he strides over, placing his hands over my bra clad breasts. Groping and feeling as much as he wanted. Closing my eyes, I try my best to disassociate from the situation. Though, as his hand travels south I find it increasingly difficult. "Stop it, stop please. I think it's pretty obvious that I don't have the key, so just leave. Please." I whimper softly, pushing on the man's chest, desperate for him to get away from me. He grabs my wrist, fingers tracing along the deep gashes that I made the night before. A deep, cynical laugh escapes his mouth. His goons soon joining in, laughing at my weakness. I've never felt so small, so humiliated. I've never wanted to die as much as I have in this very moment. "Grow up little girl. Cutting is so 2012." When he lets go of my arm, my back slides down the wall behind me. Collapsing into a ball on the floor, I let myself break down. I feel like I'm in heaven when I hear the door close behind them. Though, I can't get over the harsh words and the torture they made me endure. My body shakes violently as I quickly pull on my clothes, knowing that I need to let the boy out of the toilet. The moment the door clicks open, his arms wrap around me in a smothering hug. His hand rests on the back of my head, allowing me to sob into his chest. Not caring about anything else other than making sure that I'm comfortable. "Thank you." He whispers into my hair, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. Clutching at his shirt, I mumble a soft apology which he quickly brushes away. Instead he insists I talk to him. Insists I tell him everything. From what happened with my mother, to what I just experienced, to my problem with self harm. I've never spoken to anybody about my problems before but I manage to let everything out. The boy listening intently to everything I have to say. "You know you're going to be okay. I'm going to make sure of it. I'll be there for you, every step of the way. Just as long as you know you can trust me." He tells me, pulling me in for yet another hug. His arms engulf my small body, yet I don't mind at all. Everything about him is intoxicating, in a good way. From his scent to his height to his voice, it makes me feel safe. He makes me feel safe. Third Person POV. Sweet Pea smiles shyly as he remembers every detail of that night. As he does this, he feels grateful that he and his girlfriend decided to keep things very private within their relationship. Simply because he wanted to keep this story for himself. "It's a boring story. Trust me."
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you don't have to write it if it doesn't speak to you, but i just read and loved your fic where peter calms tony down from a panic attack, and now i offer a Good Concept: Peter trying to help Tony get through a meeting at SHIELD when Tony's spacey and in pain from a headache/fever?
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@taylortut !!!! I really like this prompt girl!!
In the course of his lifetime Tony has witnessed the discovery of alien life, multiple alien invasions, discovering that the very threads of his reality all coincided within 6 stones, and yet he had never been more confused in his life up until this moment.
Everything Nick Fury says seems to be a jumble of words that don’t seem to be any language, perhaps some alien language but even then they’re barely even audible. They’re all slurred together and seemingly slowed down like his VCR tape had just malfunctioned.
He feels warm and hot all over and he felt like his face was on fire but his lower half was stuck in the middle of the arctic, and he wanted to scream. There was part of him that wanted to throw a tantrum and crawl up on the floor wailing in agony, but he was a grown man who was much respected with a very strong image to pursue and doing such a thing was..out of character, to the say the least.
Tony doesn’t remember the last time he felt this sick, hell, he doesn’t even think he’s ever felt this sick in his entire life. He grits his teeth together as he braces this headache that comes in ravaging like a hurricane in his head, destroying every cell in his brain. His fists are balled intensely in an attempt to anchor himself through this whirlwind of pain, and he doesn’t know if he’s really not concealing his discomfort well at all or Peter is just this observant but either way he can sense that the kid is staring holes into him.
Peter, as always, is kind and loving, with a soul softer than his damn hair, which is pretty damn soft. He doesn’t stare at Tony with malicious or judging intent, he stares at him with genuine concern and worry, and this sort of nervous energy he sort of sees in himself. He knows this kid isn’t his, but it sure feels like it.
Peter doesn’t quite know sign language all too well, he’s only just started after all (because he was an avenger now, all the avengers know sign language for Clint, why was he any different? and yes, Mr Stark, he was an avenger now) and he seems to be making up his own bizzaro form of sign language, which mostly consisted of an equally outlandish series of facial expressions. Tony has absolutely no clue what this kid is trying to communicate, but he can only assume is a, ‘you okay?’
As dumb and ridiculous as this exchange is, at least its amusing and it’s giving him a break from everything else that’s going on.  Peter’s great at that. He gives him a little break from everything in the world that’s shitty and bleak and shows him what’s right with the world. His headache hurt a little bit less.
Tony raises an eyebrow in amusement.
Peter shows a bit agitation, frustrated he can’t quite get his point across, not wanting to interrupt Fury who seems to still be going on about these Ravagers he doesn’t really understand, and tries mouthing his message, but Tony pretends like he doesn’t understand, because yes he’s sick but he’s a little shit and being sick doesn’t stop that.
Peter, who’s directly in front of him, gives him a look that just tells him he knows what he’s up to. He looks absolutely done with him. He sighs dramatically,  and goes on listening to some guy who’s started drone on and on about budget control. Tony knows he’s not really listening though and trying to discreetly check in on him, and he makes a mental note to see about teaching Peter a thing or two about stealth.
But all the joking and lighthearted tomfoolery doesn’t last long and it fades quickly and the storm starts up again. He feels awfully lightheaded and his head hurts so much, his whole body is heavy and he feels lost. It’s like he’s disconnected and disassociated and he’s simply hovering around, him and his body seeming to not connect. He feels a little delirious like his entire body is slowly dying off in a desert and his face is burning.
He feels like his body is begging for rest, gripping at his chair to anchor himself as he’s hit with yet another tidal wave of pain, nausea, and hot and cold waves and Peter seems to sense this. He eyes him worriedly, trying to keep up his discreet charade but he gives it up.
“Do you guys want some water?” Peter chirps up suddenly, interrupting the guy who’s still on about budget control, earning himself an annoyed look. He blushes a little as he realises what he’s done is a little rude, but to him Tony’s welfare is more dire right now than how much money is being allocated towards a new doorway.
“You can get some if you want, Mr Parker,” He sighs, teeth gritted and quickly resuming his bit.
Tony shoots Peter a tired look but the kid is gone in a flash, and when he’s gone it’s like everything is much worse because there’s no one to sulk at. He stifles a cough into the tailored fabric of his suit jacket, going relatively unnoticed which he’s glad for. He lets himself slump just a little, not too much, he still has an image, but he lets that image go just the tiniest bit.
Every second Peter is gone seems to last an eternity and a half. The world does by in this agonisingly slow pace, it seems to blur out of focus so his headache is heightened and he can practically hear his head throbbing. He feels so incredibly faint and so horrible he doesn’t know if he’s even here, it’s a nightmarish version of his life that is so surreal and trippy without the promise of a high.
Eventually Peter returns with a cart full of glasses, and passes some to random people in the conference room. Tony thinks about how out of place he looks, but he understands it for him and it makes him love the kid a lot more now. He wheels the cart towards the him, and passes him a glass of cold water that his brain is crying tears of joy for, as well as a oddly folded napkin.
Tony eyes it suspiciously and lifts the fold to reveal two aspirins and all he can do is give Peter the look of pure gratitude and euphoria.
Peter deliberately drops a napkin to crouch down and whisper, “I got them off this really nice lady called Daisy–you owe me one.”
He discreetly pops the pills into his mouth and gives Peter a nod, taking a good sip of his water. He doesn’t normally accept good actions like this so casually, but he lets his pride go because the sense of gratitude and appreciation he feels outweighs any sense of gargantuan ego he has.
And then everything felt like it was going to be fine. ‘Hell yeah I’m gonna make it through this’, Tony thinks proudly, his headache hurts and the cold and hot waves are rushing up and down him in the most uncomfortable way but he can handle this. He can hold on. Things are actually going in his favour for once. Everything is okay in the world.
But then hell breaks loose and Tony’s world is entirely shaken and flipped and nothing is okay.
He doesn’t exactly know what’s happened because his mind is focused solely on not passing out and keeping up a healthy facade, but he thinks Thunderbolt Ross said something that pissed off Fury and they’re yelling and they’re so loud and there’s more voices yelling and it’s all meddling and it’s just too much.
There’s a ringing in his ears and the room is closing in and Tony can hear his heart thumping and he can feel it and the dull roar of the ringing is now a shrill shriek. The lights seem to be fading in and out and the sounds only seem to get louder and everything seems to be heavier and weighing down on him
and Tony is drowning.
Tony swallows hard as his heart races and his breathing shallows and his hands are sweating. He grips the chair hard and tightly and the pressure he’s applying is so much he can feel the skin of his palms straining and his skin burns. He looks around wildly, his lip trembling and he’s shaking and he feels so lost. He feels so sick and his body cannot handle any more and he’s losing control fast and Tony more than anything hates losing control because he feels like he’s floating away and he feels so hauntingly light.
He desperately wants to ground himself and come back because he’s so terrified he’ll float away so far he can never come back. But then his gaze locks upon Peter’s and it’s like he’s grabbed his hand just before he’s fallen off the cliff into nothingness.
And he still feels like he’s teetering off the edge but he’s still here, and as Peter gives him the kindest look he’s ever seen he feels himself being brought back up to the surface slowly but surely. Everything else seems to fade into a dull roar and he focuses his entire entity on to him.
‘Breathe’, Peter mouths, and he begins to breathe in and out slowly and steadily, gesturing for him to follow suit.
Tony nods shakily, and slowly tries to match him. He’s off tempo and he’s rushing, coming in a bit too early but he gets a sense of the rhythm and follows him, never once tearing his gaze, completely locked on him. And he feels safe. He’s still here.
Peter gives him a smile, a proud smile, and Tony’s left wondering what he ever did to deserve such a sweet person in his life.
Peter’s face shifts and he pulls out his phone, pretending to read a text, and it’s really obvious, and the mental note Tony made to teach Peter about stealth seems to climb up quite a bit.
“Uh, guys?” Peter interrupts the chaos that is Shield’s conference room, earning a particularly venomous look from that budget control guy from earlier.
“Yes, Mr.Parker?” Ross sighs.
“Uh, I just got a text from Mr Rhodes and he says he needs myself and Mr Stark like..uh..urgently?” Peter lies.
“Just go,” He brushes off quickly, seemingly uninterested and diving right into his angry tangent.
Peter gestures towards Tony, raising his eyebrows and heading towards the door. Tony follows, the journey a horrendous trek that seemed to leach every single joule of energy remaining in his body. He keeps himself straight and professional, but the moment the doors closed he feels his knees buckling and his body becoming light and his world begin to tilt.
Peter was quicker, his instincts alert and responsive and in a swoop his arm was catching him and pulling him upright, supporting and caring.
“We gotta get you home, Mr.Stark, I’ll call Happy,” Peter suggests, his grip strong but not hurtful in any sense.
“You shouldn’t see me like this,” Tony laments, remorse and shame lacing his words.
“Why not?”
“Your role models shouldn’t be weak.”
Peter is silent for a moment, but he softens, “All my heroes aren’t perfect.”
“Captain America was the scrawny little guy from New York,” Peter explains softly, and chuckles, “Just like me.”
“Dr Banner has some mental health problems. Hawkeye is hard of hearing. Black Widow used to be an assassin. Winter Soldier’s going through some pretty serious trauma, and so is Falcon. The Scarlet Witch worked with Ultron. And Thor..uh, he seems pretty perfect but uh, I’m sure there’s something–oh yeah, he’s got pretty strong emotions he can’t resist sometimes.”
“But my point is.. All my heroes aren’t perfect . And neither are you and that’s okay. It helps me know that I can be somebody too, you know?” Peter says, and looks over at him to give him a reassuring smile that tells him everything will be okay.
“I..didn’t have a lot growing up and seeing that my favourite heroes don’t have everything makes me feel like I can really do something with my life, you know? All I need..is that drive to make the world better, right? So yeah, no, I gotta disagree with you Mr Stark, my role models don’t have to be always strong. They just gotta keep trying.”
Tony can’t help his smile, “The whole world should be like you, kid. Kids like you remind me about why we do this.”
Tony puts a hand on his shoulder and brings him a bit closer, “Now, enough sap talk and let’s get me the hell home.”
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iamrheaspeaks · 6 years
Text
The Void
Italics: Inner dialogue 
Warnings: Rape, Non Consensual Voyeurism, Disassociation
Word Count: ~1.6k
A/N: Took a break from Erik to show my original OC’s love. This is number 2 of 2 updates, but they don't have to be read in order. As always this is lightly proofread/ edited. This chapter although not heavily vivid ‘in scene’ can still be triggering. I have included alerts before and after the actual scene so you can skip over that specific portion if you’d like but, and I can’t stress this enough, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THESE THINGS ARE TRIGGERS FOR YOU! The last thing I want to do is trigger anyone or hinder their recovery. 
Golden flecks of sunlight cast cool shades as it shined throw the blinds. All the windows and doors are ajar allowing the breeze to sweep in. Providing a brief chill to calm Milly’s skin. Tact with beads of sweat, only aiding to fuse the back of her arms and flattened thighs to the faux leather couch seat beneath her. To anyone who would happen upon her in her current state, Milly is just looking at something very intently on her phone while listening to music on YouTube. In reality…in reality the music has actually been on auto play and its not playing music anymore. All that’s pouring through the speakers is the sounds of rainforest meditation for sleeping. The screen on her phone was blacked out. There was a glossy haze subtly attempting to cover the pain behind her eyes. Serving as the only indicator that she was not here at all. The cage had been rattled again. The beast wanted out. Wanted acknowledgement. Wanted the light.
That crack of light…
~Fall 2007
“Fuck…you feel good”. Milly moaned in response, eyes shut hands gripping the shoulders of a boy who was after the same thing she was in that moment. Release. “Damn girl. You gonna make me cum”. The room too dark to make out each other’s facial features but Milly could tell when his head dropped back because of how his shoulders slacked. Their hush moans and the squeaking of his standard issued piece of shit bed the school provided.
Milly groaned deep from her chest as they climaxed in unison, with him letting out a low fuck. Once she was able to breathe somewhat normally Milly chuckled a low “Thank you” to her potential fuck buddy, tapping his side so he could roll over and she can start her trek back to her own dorm. As Milly begins to dress a knock happens at the door. “Just give me a minute I’m almost done”, Milly whispered for some reason. Like she didn’t have to walk by whomever it was to leave the room. “Can you hand me my pants?”
“It’s just my roommate you good.” Noticing the vice grip he had on her pants as he opened the door a wave of indifference hit Milly. For a split second it felt like someone sent a small jolt threw Milly’s body. Her dominant hand found its way journeying to the back of her neck to smooth down the hairs that were starting to come to a stand. What is this feeling? Something is…off. As she went to hop down from the bed to exit all Milly’s actions were halted as four guys entered the tiny room. Three of them promptly taking a seat on the bed opposite the one where she was just willingly ravished. Potential fuck buddy making his way over to her placing his hands on her shoulders, “You good”? The question was supposed to serve as a distraction to his roommate pulling up a chair directly behind her. It didn’t work. Milly’s eyes cut to the right, taking in the three dark figures sat on the bed perched like birds on cable wires waiting for a restaurant to throw out the old bread. Not one of them uncomfortable with how this situation was unfolding. Ears taking in the sounds of the guy behind her unbuckling and sliding down his pants and then sitting down in the chair.
 🛑🛑Highly Triggering Section Below🛑🛑
🛑🛑🛑Please Skip If You Need To🛑🛑🛑
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That crack of light…
That feeling. It was her fight or flight response. Her body really gave her too much credit if it really thought she was capable of executing either. What other opinions are left? Freeze. Her body grew stiff as all the warmth descended, crashing like a wave onto the concrete floor beneath her feet. Pupils instinctively dilating, trying to find something for her mind to fixate on before giving unwavering eye contact as he slowly pushed her backwards. Holding in her tears Milly never answered the question as his roommate pulled her down into his lap.
“Fuck”!
Focus on the light. Focus on getting through this.
“Damn ma! You tight as hell.” he grunted pulling Milly’s back to his chest with a hard thrust to fully sheath himself within her.
Focus on the light. Focus on getting through this. The light is your exit.
Milly looked up at the boy leaning in front of her, letting out a whimper as her mind registered that he was still holding her by the shoulders. Pleading with her eyes for him to intervene. The brief moment of relief that Milly was touched with got quickly snatched away as he leaned down by her ear, cementing her in that moment, “Watching you makes me wish I was inside you again”. Focus returning back to that crack of light, trying to retreat back into her subconscious before the feeling of the person underneath her still thrusting, shattered her psyche more. His hair was raising and falling against her back every time their hips impacted. Making her stomach knot and her chest burn as she forced herself to keep looking at the light coming through the bottom of the door from the hallway.
Focus on the light. Focus on getting through this. The light is your exit.
Releasing his grip on Milly’s shoulders and stepping back as his roommate finished and pushed Milly off of him to pull his pants back up. Legs nimble and wobbly due to forcing herself to not feel the sensation of their thighs touching caused her to crash to her knees on the floor from the rough dismount. 
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🛑🛑🛑Trigger Over🛑🛑🛑
A random arm reached down to help her. Eyes never leaving the light Milly let out a weak and defeated “I’m good” before getting up on her own, dressing and leaving the room. As she crossed the threshold Milly was hit with the realization that a sort of death just happened. You turned my body into a graveyard.
The florescent lights burned her eyes as she stepped completely into the hallway, met with nothing but more silence. Milly shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. Digging her nails into her palms past the point of pain just to further distract herself from crying. It was about a mile walk back to her dorm. Your roommates are gone for the weekend. Keep it together until you get to the room. Just…keep walking. Milly made it down the three flights of the stairs and past the campus security patrol car and into the student center. Student center…that’s what 1/3 of the- “Hey Milly! Where you on your way to?” It was the Head Resident Director of Milly’s Dorm, J.R. It’s only a month or two into the semester but she somehow found it his presence didn't normally set off her anxiety like it was now. Tonight though. After knowing that the last thing she wanted to do was recite the very thing she was trying to forget. That every single dark figure Milly was desperately trying to scrub from her memory was a football player. And that out of everything that had already transpired the tiniest detail was the main reason she felt too triggered to talk. His jersey made it impossible to forget the fact that he’s the Head Football Coach. No! She just wanted to shower and shove this a far down into her subconscious as possible.
“I’m heading back to the dorm” Milly spilled out like vomit face down and toes pointed together before hurriedly turning the continue walking. “You sure you okay?” J.R. inquired. Turning to face him briefly walking backwards Milly tried her best to give a genuine smile while waving, “Yeah. All good”.
The water sputtering out of the broken showerhead wasn’t hot enough to combat the chill of shame and regret building in her because of the night’s events. There was more body wash on the floor by her flip flop covered feet than on her shower ball thanks to her trembling hands. Scrubbing so hard she bleed in some places. Off! Get it off! Keep scrubbing. Just get off. Just as she felt her mind slipping a single name drew her out. “Denver! I have to call Denver”.
Miles away Denver was sitting in her room, local radio station humming lowly out of her radio as she wrote one of her stories. Legs crossed Indian style, notebook in her lap, surrounded by pens and loose leaf paper. Completely buried in her passion when suddenly her whole room grew cold. Releasing a breath and witnessing it briefly materialize in front of her eyes. Just as Denver was about to question silently to herself what the fuck was going on her phone rang. Surprised to see Milly calling her at such a late hour but still excited to speak to her since this is their first time not living in the same state. Actually, it’s their first real time apart since becoming friends. Voice full of life “Hey best friend!” Denver’s heart sank as she’s met with Milly’s sobs on the other end of the line.
“D-Denver?” Milly finally managed to mumble.
“Milly? What’s up? What’s wrong?”
~Present day
“Milly? Milly. Milly!”
Milly got shocked back into reality at the sound of Denver screaming her name, Ishe standing next to her snapping his fingers in her face. Both Denver and Ishe being really careful and not wanting to actually touch her in the moment. She was tiny but Milly could throw a punch and they hurt.
“H-how long have you been saying my name?” Milly inquired as her eyes glanced back and forth between the two of them.
“That’s not important. Are you okay?” Ishe asked as he used both hands to wipe away the cascade of tears that saturated her cheeks before sitting down beside her.
Denver sat on the other side gently rubbing Milly’s back with her chin on Milly’s shoulder, “It’s okay. It’s over. You’re not there anymore”.
“Denver. How long?”
“I don’t know. Maybe about three to five minutes or so”
“It felt like. I­–I was back there. Like it was happening all over again.” Milly turned towards Denver wrapping her arms tight around her frame as she squeezed her into a hug. Denver isn’t big on touch but she knew Milly was so she didn’t fight it. Not wanting to hold her friend too long against her will, Milly breathed a weak “Thank you” as she released her death grip on Denver.
S/N: Denver is based off my real life best friend so sometimes her character will cross stories if I see fit.
A/N: I know this was loaded. Thank you to any and everyone who braved through this.
Tags: @savagesensitivity @cancerianprincess @another-imaginesblog
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