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cherrysha · 7 months

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To Be Alone

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

A/N: Getting this tf outta my drafts,,, banishment style. if its formatted wrong its because im tipsy and im too lazy to fix it,,, itll get fixed in the morning <3

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Paranoia, weed, dubcon (since reader is under the influence), slight body horror

It’s already dark outside when you get to Yuuji’s apartment. Streetlights glimmer with a low electric buzz as you make your way up the concrete stairs. Its unseasonably cold outside, autumn air chilling through the light jacket you found haphazardly stuffed in the back of your car. He’s still blowing your phone up, probably ‘where are you??’ messages like he hasn’t been texting you that for the past fifteen minutes. Like he doesn’t know how far your work is from his apartment. You'd been friends long enough now to know when to answer his texts and when to ignore the incessant buzzing of your phone. “Jesus” you mutter as his ringtone plays. It’s been years but he’s always like this. A little too eager, like a child. Hitting mute, you finally round the corner and knock on his door. Yuuji could be so impatient sometimes. It only takes one rap against the metal before you can hear the bolts turning, your friend’s cottony pink hair greeting you, eyes scrunched in a bright smile. You can't be mad, not when the smile that covers his face is so genuine.

“You're insane” you huff out at him, stepping into the threshold and shimmying out of your coat in the process. His apartment is always so warm, a little too warm, but his older brother blew a gasket any time Yuuji tried to turn down the heat for you.

“Am not!” you giggle as he puts a hand to his chest, mock annoyance coloring his face “You just need to be quicker… making me wait and all.” You ignore him, haphazardly kicking out of your shoes before stepping deeper into the apartment.

“isn’t Junpei coming? We have to wait for him anyway.”

“He, uh, didn’t feel like coming out tonight” you can hear the disappointment in his voice at the statement and it’s contagious. Yuuji’s had a crush on the boy for almost an entire year, which is hard to believe given his short attention span and lack of romantic interest. With an audible ‘tsk’ you ruffle his hair, smiling at the little indignant look on his face that threatens to spill over at the touch.

“There’s always next time, Yuuji” he nods, smile returning as he follows you into the living room.

“Was thinkin’ we could watch Cast Away, since you don’t like the scary stuff”. If Junpei were here, you know he’d make you watch a horror movie anyway. Probably send you off to his room during the really scary parts so you wouldn’t ruin the mood. The thought makes you smile, and you eagerly nod as you sink back into the sofa. Yuuji sits down next to you with a huff, fiddling with the remote until the movie starts in the background. He’s probably watched this one a dozen times. You know you’ve seen it with him too many times to count. Without much thought he turns it up before setting the remote back down and picking the blunt up off the coffee table. Thank God he figured out how to roll them up. The last thing you wanted was another thirty-minute session of trying to show him exactly how to do it himself.

Tom Hanks’ boring little life plays out on the screen in front of you as Yuuji mumbles something about how you would’ve rolled it better, and not to judge his sloppy technique. He’s still learning and all. You don’t look his way to reply, only muttering “Free weed is free weed.” as you focus on the movie. He's never told you who his dealer is, and you’ve never outright asked. Whoever he was, he never seemed to be in short supply. All the dealers you’ve met at college were either professional frat boy scam artists, selling little baggies of trash weed to stupid rich boys, or untrustworthy as hell. The type to sell you laced product and not even bat an eye. Good dealers were hard to find. It wasn't surprising Yuuji hadn’t told you, and it didn’t matter since he rarely liked to smoke alone. Yuuji leans back into the couch as he lazily hands the blunt to you, coughing a little at the end of his exhale. You don’t think about it as you take it from his hand.

Friday nights at Yuuji’s feels like routine at this point. Leave work, smoke a blunt or two on his couch as he monologues about the random movie he’s put on, sober up and go home to your empty apartment and sleep in until Yuuji blows your phone up again. Sometimes Junpei or Nobara join in too, but most of the time it’s just you and him. Like it’s always been.

Time feels like syrup as you listen to him ramble, voice a breathy sigh as he tells you behind the scenes facts about the movie. How Wilson actually had his own lines in the script, how none of the sound was useable and had to be added in during post production. A treasure trove of useless facts that you happily indulge in listening to. It’s odd to think of him taking his time to learn such trivial things. The image of him blankly staring at the cast away wiki during lecture swirls in your mind, pulling a chuckle from your dry throat. He’d definitely do something like that. Probably wouldn’t care if he was caught either.

“What’s so funny?” he mumbles, lazy smile almost infectious as you just nod your head at him, eyes averting back to the screen.

Toms already stranded on the island, you think this is the part where he rips out an infected tooth, at least you hope it is. You didn’t want to be around to see that on the screen again.

“You want somethin’ to eat?” you mumble at him, pushing up from the couch.

“Uh, can you get me a bottle of water?” you nod, with a small chuckle. His eyes are glazed over, half lidded as he watches the screen like he’s absorbing any information that’s being presented to him. In about five minutes he’d probably be asleep.

You hear the scream from the kitchen as Tom finally pulls the tooth out with the blade of an ice skate. You were too squeamish to look at the screen the first time you watched it. Even now, the sound alone was enough to gross you out.

Yuuji’s cupboards are always well stocked with garbage. Chips, candy, instant noodles, anything you wanted. You take another drag from the blunt, head fuzzing over with smoke as you stare at all the options. Sukuna kept most of his food separate, not that you had to worry much about accidentally eating it. The healthy stuff was all his. Mostly stuff that had to be prepared and cooked. You weren’t looking for that shit tonight.

“You should probably eat something!” you call out to him. After a few seconds with no reply, you peek around the corner, unsurprised to see him snoring away loudly on the couch. Go figure.

He usually fell asleep later, during the first half of the second movie. When the blunt was at least half finished. At least he left room for you on the couch this time.

Not thinking much about it, you grab a pack of cookies and two water bottles. One for you, and one for the bonehead if he decided to wake up any time soon.

Yuuji had left another blunt unattended, letting it idly burn away in the ashtray while he snored unashamedly on the armrest. It wasn’t really a problem, if anything it meant more for you. Yuuji wouldn’t mind, if anything he’d probably be happy that it didn’t go to waste… He probably wouldn’t mind if you smoked the third one either…

~~~

Idly you sip the water, heart pumping faster than it should be, skin feeling clammier than normal. You didn’t feel normal. Nothing felt normal.

He’s been passed out for too long to be easily woken up by the time you start feeling it. ‘It’ being the ever-pressing creep of paranoia along the edges of your psyche. Tom Hanks is screaming as Wilson bobs away from the makeshift raft and you can't help but to think the neighbors hear. That they’re calling the cops for a wellness check as you sit there, unmoving. The ambient lights flickering in through the curtains no longer feels warm, but rather very, very insidious. What happens if you go to jail? Will you lose your scholarship? Do you even have a fucking scholarship? You shake your head to try and clear the thoughts away to no avail. Yuuji’s groaning in his sleep, drool pooling out of the side of his mouth and the sudden impending doom bubbles back to the forefront of your mind. What if he chokes on all that drool and dies and you go to jail because you weren’t keeping an eye on him? Is it possible to choke on your own spit?

Your fears seem to be confirmed as the apartment door swings open, deafening compared to the low mumble of the tv and Yuuji’s deep snores. You can hear whoever it is close the door before walking down the hallway. What if it was the cops? Or even worse, someone here to rob Yuuji? Fuck, if that were the case, you'd have no qualms with them taking everything they wanted. It’s Yuuji’s fault he didn’t deadbolt the door.

You let go of the breath you'd been holding when Sukuna rounds the corner. Eyes flickering to his brother, then to you, then to the blunt burning away in the ashtray.

You must look startled, wide eyes locked on him as adrenaline surges through your body. You must look a little suspicious too.

“You good?” he asks, and you can't help but look away from his heavily tattooed face, eyes instead focusing on how his chest slowly moves under his plain white shirt with each breath. You blink, trying to mimic the natural motion, the steady in-and-out of his lungs filling up and exhaling air.

“Yeah… yeah. I just thought you were someone else.”

“Who?” his voice is demanding, sharp. Its always been that way. Deep and rich and hard to ignore. The only time you’ve been able to hear him speak more than a few words is when he’s bitching Yuuji out over something.

Taking, what you think is a very short moment, you answer.

“The cops?” he’s sighing at the sheepishness in your voice. Obviously connecting the dots as he moves to snuff the lit blunt out in the ashtray.

You can't help it as you continue to talk, to give him more proof of your paranoia as you try to defend your own emotions to him. After too long, he stops you. Hand coming to rub his face in a movement that exposes his true irritation.

“I just wanted some peace and quiet” Sukuna groans. He takes a moment to stare at the ceiling.

Silence hangs in the air like smoke as you try and find the words you need. Tell him that this is a mistake, a misunderstanding.

“I can go, if, if that’s what you wa-“

“Just shut the fuck up y/n.” he snaps, eyes finding yours just as tears threaten to spill. You don’t know why you were being so sensitive. Maybe it was because you’d never even met eye contact with the man, maybe it was because of your mental state, who was to tell. He groans again, moving closer and placing a hand on your head. Big arms encircle your waist as he hoists you up, free hand wiping at the tears sliding down your face as he walks down the hallway.

He’s so warm, how have you not noticed before? It’s not like you had ever been this close to him to truly know. In fact, this is the closest you’d ever been to him, physically and emotionally. You’d never felt comfortable enough, even the other times he’d come home to find you and yuuji stoned out of your minds, he usually left you two to your own devices and acted as if you weren’t there.

Before you know it, he’s plopping you down on his bed, and even just being in the quiet dimly lit room with him is more comforting than it should be. After all, he was being kind, a side of him you rarely saw.

“Still in your work clothes” he mumbles to himself, that layer of irritable disappointment still threading through his words as he curses again. Whispering something about kicking Yuuji’s ass before his big frame disappears out of the room. It hits you then just how focused he is on your well being. He’d focused in on something you thought was a non-issue, fixated on your comfort even if you weren’t.

You can hear him, doors creaking open and rummaging noises distantly echoing from down the hall, but all you can focus on is how the ambient light in his room looks sinister now that you’re by yourself. It doesn’t take long before he’s back, tossing you a pair of Yuuji’s sweats and sitting a glass of water down on the bedside table.

“Come out and let me know when you're changed.” he mumbles, but you already have a hand around his wrist. The touch softly begging him to stay and let you find comfort. Even if Sukuna is as comforting as a rock, it felt wrong being alone. You know it’s wrong, this is yuuji’s older brother, his older brother who’s rarely home, who’s done nothing but ensure your comfort, and yet, you can’t stop the well of feelings bubbling up in your chest at his casual decency. He stays, begrudgingly sighing as he sits down on the edge of his bed. You don’t expect him to give you any privacy, and he doesn’t, but you're too focused on keeping your cool to truly pay attention to the way his eyes roam over your exposed skin, eyebrow raising at the sight of you undoing your bra and tossing it into your pile of clothing.

When you’re finished he asks if you're tired, quieter now, observing you as if he’s come to some new realization while watching you undress. You nod your head, hesitantly sitting on the edge of the bed. Hoping that maybe if you were lucky he wouldn’t make you sleep in yuuji’s room. The thought of being left alone with your own thoughts much scarier than the man in front of you. Even if he kicked you out, you’d probably find yourself on the couch next to yuuji, being kept awake by his incessant snoring. Even now you could faintly hear it, the sound reverberating through the hallway and into Sukuna's room.

Before you can think too much about it, however, hands find your hips, maneuvering you onto Sukuna’s chest as he lays down with you. Every inhale moves your body on his, deep breaths as he slides his palms up to the back of your head, lifting it so you have no choice but to stare into his eyes.

“Feel any better?”. Vaguely, you think this is the nicest sukuna has ever been to you, even if he is forcefully tilting your head back. Usually, you only see him in passing, any words spoken on his part come out as a grunt and nothing more. Yuuji had told you that you were Sukuna’s favorite, whatever that meant. And when you had pressed Yuuji on that sentiment he had clammed up. Said Sukuna only let you stay the night, had only ever been himself around you. Of course you hadn’t known what he meant by that; Sukuna barely acknowledged you, never speaking to you unless he could do so in monosyllabic words or grunts. But tonight, he'd been nothing but kind, at least kind in his own right.

You nod, breath hitching as he mutters out a “good girl” before kissing the crown of your head. There’s nothing further than that, and after a while his deep breaths even out. You feel like a cat, some sort of small animal that their owner has allowed to sleep on their chest. It’s all too docile. Slowly you find yourself drifting off as well.

Your rest ends up being shorter than you would’ve hoped because Its hot. Too fucking hot. Too hot to sleep, too hot to breathe. You need out. Slowly, you slip off the huge t shirt, uncaring of your bareness underneath. You need relief in some form. It takes a few tries before you can roll the sweatpants off of your hips. Maybe if you were sober you would’ve remembered that this was not the time nor the place to be laying yourself bare, but for right now, its hard to remember your propriety. In truth, you forgot about the fact that your were a guest in a grown man’s bed, In truth, you really didn’t stop to think about repercussions. By the time you’re done, you realize you have an audience. Sukuna’s eyes are staring down at you, fingers digging into the meat of your hips to still your movement.

“Sukuna I’m sorry-“

“You trying to start something?”

“No, no I just got hot and- “

“You could’ve gotten the fuck off of me” it only takes a moment before tears threaten to spill at the harsh words, at the mean look on his face as he stares down at you. Its embarrassing, mortifying, that he’s right. Before you can make much progress on getting your body off of his a tight grip on your hips stills you as he readjusts, and places you squarely back on top of him again.

“Such a crybaby” his hips rock up, hands pressing you down further as he moves languidly against you. “Feel that crybaby?” you nod, eyes still focused on his as he continues moving. He’s hard between your legs, every press of his hips squishing into that soft spot at the apex of your thighs, igniting a new type of heat inside of you.

“There’s no use trying to take advantage of me like that,” he grunts, still moving against you “coulda just asked. I’m more than happy to give you what you want.”

Its not like that, at least in your head it wasn’t. You had made too many bad choices tonight, and all of them had led you here. Straddling his wide hips, hands on his chest as you slowly grind back and forth on top of him, gasping at the delicious friction with every swivel. Its surprising he allows it, but Sukuna just calmly rests on his elbows, transfixed with the way the material of his sweatpants moves underneath you, how he can feel the heat radiating from your core like a furnace.

Before long he sits up, hand wrapping around your hip to force you to still. He laughs at the whine that bubbles up from your throat, eyes searching your face as his free hand tangles in between you, pressing in between your bodies until he finds what he’s looking for. His thumb presses down softly at first, gentle and languid strokes over your clothed clit until your eyes flutter shut and you mouth drops open at the sensation. The syrupy feeling doesn’t last long, only a few minutes of his hips bucking up into yours, jostling you each time as his thumb traces careful circles, until he’s had enough and presses down on your clit harshly. His body shakes with laughter as you cry out in overstimulation.

“such a glutton” his mouth finds your throat, lips closing over your pulse point as his eyes flutter shut at the feel of your whines vibrating through the skin there. On a harsher thrust your nails accidentally scratch down the expanse of his muscular chest, ripping a growl from him in the process. Before you can apologize, he’s cursing again, hips moving against your own as he pulls and pushes you against him. Your best friend’s brother, beneath you, panting and groaning at the feeling of your nails in his chest. It doesn’t seem real, if anything it’s more believable that you passed out beside yuuji and ended up in a fucked up dream. Unfortunately for you the dull, bruising, ache of his hands on your hips solidifies this as reality, and unceremoniously you're dumped onto the bed, underneath him as he pants above you.

His eyes look crazed, an inch away from terrifying, as he sloppily rips your underwear from you, ignoring the sound of the fabric protesting at such harsh treatment. It feels wrong, and that alone turns you on further. Sukuna’s chest rises and falls in his excitement, and two fingers push into you, gathering slick and messily smearing it over your pussy. His hand is still wet, glistening in the low light as it wraps around your knee, pushing both of them together and up.

“Sukuna – “

“who told you to speak?” he’s lining himself up, eyes focused as he slowly rolls his hips forward. You never even noticed his sweats came off, never wanted it to get this far, but before you can find your voice -

You expect to feel the harsh burn of him pressing inside of you, but it doesn’t come. instead, his cock is pushing through your thighs, glistening head squishing through sticky flesh as he starts to set a harsh pace. The underside brushes along your folds, gathering the slickness there with every pass as his pace only gets faster.

“Fuck” he groans, hips twitching as he stills, trying to catch his breath at the sensation, at the fucked out expression on your face. He hasn’t even fucked you and yet you look an absolute wreck. You don’t feel much better either. Every slide of his hips forces more wetness from you, more noises from you. The feeling of his fingers digging into to crook of your knees keeps you firmly planted in the moment.

“All of this,” he sighs, finally picking up the pace after being a tease the entire night, “right under my nose this whole time.” the air is pushed out of your lungs as his cock finally rubs against your clit.

The sound of his body slamming against your own fills the room. Sukuna leans down, and for a shocking moment you think he may actually kiss you, but his head goes even lower before you can feel his teeth biting against your neck. There’s no room to breathe with him like this, your hands curling into the red sheets, his mouth unabashedly leaving marks against your throat, its all too overwhelming. The sound of slapping echoes through the room. You’re left adrift in the sensation of Sukuna fucking your thighs so vigorously, the wet schlick of skin on skin, the sound of his panting breaths. Only a few more thrusts against your clit before you’re whining, thrashing against the bed, close to an orgasm that doesn’t come.

“Did you really think I’d let you?” He breathlessly laughs “i’m not that kind sweetheart.”

Sukuna pulls back at the last second, hand on his cock as he jerks off in front of you, kneeing at your spread legs until you’re situated just the way he wants: legs spread, breathless, as he pumps his cock in front of your tits.

“Such a pretty thing” he murmurs, “shame this is all goin’ to waste… maybe one day-“ the groan, and sudden release that bathes your chest, is startling. You’d never thought of yuuji’s brother in this way, moaning above you as he paints your chest white. But now the truth of it was jarring enough for you to see the truth for what it was. You had fucked your best friend’s brother. Had let him finish on your chest, even let him clean you up afterwards and croon sweet nothings into your ear during the process. You were even shameless enough to fall into a peaceful sleep next to him.

When you wake, the room still faintly smells of sex. Fear grips you as you hear something down the hall. Sukuna is long gone, something you’d expected before you even opened your eyes. You know he’s probably left the apartment already, that’s not what scares you. The sound reverberating down the hall is yuuji. Singing over some shitty pop anthem blaring through a speaker. How could you explain away fucking his brother?

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryoumen smut

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neverrcryarch · 9 months

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an analysis of dennis' behavior in "the high school reunion, part one".

the episode starts with the gang ( plus frank ) hanging out in the parking lot of their high school, saint joes, drinking beers and chatting. they are talking about how excited they are to go to their high school reunion. dennis is enthusiastic about how excited he is, specifically how excited he is to go back down memory lane.

dennis: man this reunion is going to be awesome dude. i'm going to fire into that school and it's going to propel me back into the mid nineties when dennis reynolds was a golden god."

it has been mentioned in previous episodes of sunny ( literally too many to specifically reference ) that dennis, dee, mac, and charlie went to high school together. they were friends of sorts, and at least spent time together. this is confirmed in the beginning of this episode by dennis and dee saying this.

dennis: lets do what we did before every school sponsored event and... dee: smash 'em up? dennis: smash 'em up!

when dennis first walks into the school he has a wide smile on his face and he says: "oh yeah baby, this is great! this brings me back." he is clearly excited about coming back to the school and reliving his high school experience. according to dennis, he had a great time in high school. he even has a brief conversation with charlie and dee about past high school experiences while speaking about the waitress.

dee: she was not no, maybe the most forgettable girl in school. dennis: yeah, which by the way is the worst thing you can be in high school. totally insignificant.

clearly dennis puts a lot of weight on how people acted and were perceived in high school. he puts a lot of weight on being popular in high school, being liked. something that he truly believes that he was. being insignificant is unacceptable.

after the gang collects their name tags, dennis separates from them to "make his rounds" and catch up with former classmates. while dennis is away dee, mac, and charlie catch up with adriano. it turns out that adriano was one of the main bullies of dee, mac, and charlie. quickly you can see their positive memories of high school crumble, and the reality of what they went through in high school hits them hard. dennis returns and talks to charlie and mac and gives charlie his name tag. dennis informs them that he will not be hanging out with them for the rest of the evening.

dennis: so listen guys this is where we part ways. so do not talk to me for the rest of the night and know that i won't be talking to you because you lower my stock. you guys get it. i'm gonna go post up one of these tables over here and let my loyal subjects come and kiss my ring.

even though dennis spent time with the gang in high school, we see that dennis was more "popular" than them, and spending time with him could hurt his social standing. we can assume that dennis also behaved this way during high school. we do know from previous episodes that dennis did buy weed from mac when mac was a dealer in high school, and we know from the beginning of the episode that they attended school events together. my guess is that dennis spent time apart from them during school hours, hoping to appear as "above them".

the next scene we see dennis sitting at an empty table drinking a beer. he is looking around the gym trying to find people that he knew from high school, hoping that they will come join him and talk with him. he sees someone that he knows, greets them, and invites him to sit down with him. the guy shakes his head and sighs, and walks away from dennis. dennis calls after him.

dennis: yeah okay, alright. i'll catch you later man. if you see any of the old crew, let them know i'm posting up over here. i don't think they know- they know that i'm here.

dennis mentions an "old crew", which we can assume is his other group of friends separate from the gang. stache, the person dennis tried to invite to the table, clearly had no interest in having conversation with him. dennis isn't exactly taking that well. he sounds dejected, and when frank sneaks into the high school reunion and finds him, you can tell dennis' anger is starting to get more elevated. frank continues to talk to dennis however, ignoring his anger which frank often does.

frank: why are you sitting here at a table with no people? i thought you were cool. dennis: i am cool, i'm the coolest kid here. i'm just posting up, and they're going to come to me. i don't know what's going on.

dennis is still insisting that he was cool, that people will come to him. that he has these minions that he ruled over in high school and they will be clamoring over him at any second. much to dennis' dismay, his ex wife sits down at the table with him and frank.

dennis: i don't want to talk to old men who are pretending to be women and ... a-and and ex wives. i can't be seen like this.

dennis has this clear vision of who he was in high school and he is worried about this being tarnished by frank and maureen joining him at the empty table he sat at. much like why he didn't want charlie and mac joining him, dennis wants to be around the cool kids. show that he was a cool kid himself. he's getting progressively more and more frustrated as this plan does not end up unfolding how he wanted. there is dissonance between the dennis he wants to be and the dennis he is. he is embarrassed by his friends, but he still owns a bar with them and spends a lot of his free time with them. he still lives with mac. he is okay with being friends with them as long as people do not find out about it. as long as people do not associate him with the rest of the gang.

dennis then storms away from the table after the waitress joins, moving to stand on the outskirts of the gym to watch the party. dennis is joined by frank, and then recognized by a former classmate, tim murphy. dennis then informs frank that tim is an asshole, and that tim slept with his prom date. tim goes over to dennis and frank and makes some small talk, and is clearly interested in catching up with dennis. he seems friendly, like he had completely forgotten about the betrayal he had done to dennis ( i will talk more about tim murphy in the second episode analysis ). tim and dennis have a bit of conversation.

tim: anyway, i saw you standing over here alone i wanted to invite you over to our table. dennis: oh, i won't be going anywhere with you ... tim. tim: okay ... why? dennis: don't you play coy with me, you little bitch. i'm going to stay right here and i'm gonna wait for my minions to swarm me. and swarm they will tim! alone you'll be, hah, such sad little ... games we play. right tim? tim: right ... same old dennis reynolds.

apparently this behavior is not a surprise to tim, apparently this is something that dennis often did in high school. at this point in the episode it is becoming apparent that dennis was not as popular in high school as he might seem. this conversation with tim also shows that dennis often ends up letting his self esteem issues get in the way. yes, his self esteem issues. you can easily interpret dennis' rant to tim as something based off of vanity, an inflated ego. but dennis is simply trying to over compensate for his past behaviors. he is embarrassed by the person he was, the person he became, so he tries to insist that he was a popular kid. that he is important, that he was valued, and that people respect him.

next we see tim murphy and matthew mara having a conversation at a table. dee and adriano then end up joining them. dennis approaches the table and strikes up some conversation and it is ... painful to watch.

dennis: hey, how you guys doin'? yeah ... i'm here. haha ... ha. can you believe i came to this thing? yeah, i was posted up over there i can't believe you guys didn't see me. adriano: no, we saw you. dennis: oh did you ? oh ... okay ... well, no reason to be intimidated. i'm a human being after all. just a ... just a man. tim: actually, we're good. dennis: uh, no tim. we're not good. and you're definitely not good because you haven't had a chance to hang out with me yet.

and this is how the episode ends, well they do find out that matthew was stealing from attendees. they associate dennis and dee with matt and the group at the table ends up leaving them. clearly dennis is still thinking of himself as someone above everyone attending the reunion, and he is delusional to think so.

i will be posting more about the second part of this episode soon because there are so many good nuggets about dennis in there.

#dennis / introspection.#who is going to read this #im so sorry this is so rambly #long post //

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bitchnamedmeech · 2 years

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My suicide note turning into a suicide novel. This shit gon win my rotting corpse a Pullitzer. I got a lot of shit to say before I do the chug jug challenge

#suicide #Pullitzer prize #fortnite #anti freeze #how hard is it to find a weed dealer round here

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shesawriter39049 · 3 years

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|The Plug| M| TRADING PLACES|

Genre: SMUT/ANGST

*Jimin's your local plug and as of late...your man* Pairing: Jimin X Reader About- Word on the street is there was a shooting at a really dodgy strip club in town and you got arrested and Jimin’s stressed the fuck out! Hold on, wait what?! Or- Feels, all the feels, and some secrets are exposed...but, eventually, the night ends the way it should! With you, safe, sound, and falling apart beneath your man! Warnings: Sex while high (Weed), soft dom Jimin, fingering, light cumplay. dirty talk, lube, light overstimulation, dirty talk, creampie/unprotected sex, marking, breathe play, couch sex, (VERY) light daddy kink (it is a regular part of the story it's just not heavy here) TBA. Nonsexual Warnings: TBA WC: 1K sneak peek *Belongs to a series can be read as a stand-alone*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THURSDAY, 3:15 AM

“Jimin!?”

Of fucking course! Your man finding out was literally the last thing that came to mind after the shitstorm that was tonight....but ya know. The universe has its favorites to shit on and clearly.....

You don’t know if he’s relieved or fuckin pissed to see you standing there all lackadaisically as if shits normal. It's not like there was a shoot out and you were arrested and potentially dead or anything. Nah, ya know ...it’s just a typical Thursday night or I guess morning technically!

Dressed in an all-black Champion, sweats, and hoodie situation...his usual eternal glow is very much lacking right now! The man in question is dazed as he bends the corner of your foyer, staggering into the hall kicking the door shut before essentially collapsing back into It. More importantly, he’s dead silent and appears to be almost uncomfortably high. Eyes blown, shoulders rounded, and beneath your confusion, you feel sickly responsible for his current state! I mean fuck, he’s not even supposed to be here, but you should’ve known better, regardless! This man started out in the streets and no matter what he’ll always have eyes in the streets....clearly.

For fucks sake!

He still hasn't spoken, and the silence is unnerving because well, we all know Jimin's known for his smart ass mouth. You'd expect him to storm in guns blazing, integration on a hundred...not whatever the hell this is...honestly you'd prefer playing 99 questions because silent Jimin is utterly terrifying!

Ten out of ten don't recommend!

Frame resting against the door as he appraises you from afar, and you find yourself start to shift subtly under the intensity of his gaze. Honestly, Jimin’s kinda hard to read, as his overall expression is very much giving...corpse. Eyes heavy, hooded, pupils fully dilated, it’s just all fuck...black, pure sabel. What’s crazy is somehow he manages to look like he’s emotionally combusting and lifeless..all at the same time.

The main thing that’s standing out however is the way the dismembered orbs appear even puffer than usual, all jokes aside, you can barely see his actual iris. What you can see however is how hard he’s panting and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he ran here!

“Hey “

Yup, that was all you could muster out, but fuck somebody had to talk, and even that almost sounded like a question...

You look like you just saw a ghost, or better yet like a toddler that's has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar! And well, the response you get in return is just as alarming as it is fitting! Jimin laughs, dark, loud, disgruntled and borderline hysterical, as a ring clannad hand ruffled through his disheveled locks. The grip he has on his roots is well...

The dealer actually almost stumbles as he marches forward like his legs started to give out in the process. Jaw taught, eyes glistening beneath the dimly lit hallway, and regardless of how high he is the sheen laying over his iris. The closer he gets confirm's his appearance truthfully has nothing to do with the drugs flooding through his veins, and everything to do with you, baby girl!

“Jimin I’m-“

Your man damn near growls, a frustrated, frightened sound and he's on you within seconds! Pulling you into his frame, hands slipping beneath your thighs to hike you up and your body's reaction is subconscious. Legs koalaing his frame to secure your place, cheek dropping to the crook of his neck! Fingers making a home in his hair, clawing gently at the hair at the nape of his neck. Massaging gently hoping to put the man beneath you at ease, though the contact may be making shit worse.

God, you smell just like him, because well, for one you're wearing his shirt, and the reminisce of Jimin's cologne mixed with his natural essence is running all through your pores. Currently freshly showered and well we know the way that shit works, you smell like home, you smell like you belong to him and that’s his breaking point!

“You can’t fuckin do that kinda shit to me” It was meant to come out as a command but sounds more like a broken plea as it muffles into the top of your head. Voice-breaking into dust at the ends “I can’t..” He’s so winded, God, you feel like such a fucking asshole right now, honestly, you didn't even think past the moment because again he wasn’t supposed to be here! But if the roles were reversed you’d be losing your shit, so you can’t even get yourself to justify the recklessness!

“Baby I’m sorry….” Lips pressed right against his ear, causing you to have to essentially whisper, anything else just feels out of place! Intimate isn't even a strong enough word to describe how fragile this moment is, kissing up the side of his face yet he still won’t look at you.

“I can’t come home to nothing again...” Even with how close the two of you are...those words were barely audible, but fuck if they didn't rip your entire chest apart!

You feel like actual trash...You've met and become somewhat accustomed to angry Jimin...this version however was something you don't think you'd ever get used too!,

"I'm okay Jimin, I’m oh. kay” The hug is almost bone-crushing at this point but you wouldn't dare complain. The breath that rips through his chest is absolutely gut-wrenching. His arms are shaking and he sounds like he’s been waiting to hold you before he could finally exhale!

"Yeah?" There goes that acrid laugh again, the tenors rivaling the joker at this point it's so damn cynical "Well I’m not. Fuck, I'm not-God” You're not an emotional person, blame it on your fucked up-traumatic childhood. However, once the side of your neck starts to perspire....which you quickly realize is not a thing, and Jimin is very much crying right now you just-

Your legs wrap your legs around his waist even tighter, as a small ring clanned hand cradles the back of your head like a newborn. It takes you a minute to realize your moving, honestly, you weren't sure where he had in mind or if he even had a destination in mind because before you know it Jimin's backs slamming into the wall. Slowly sliding to the floor almost as if his knees gave out, and you know it's not from a lack of strength... he's just.....goin through it right now. Yet no matter how abrupt the change was, you don't even flinch... you know he's got you... and that's all that mattered right now!

Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Full things coming soon...were looking at around 6K so we tap into the OC a little more and get so good old fashioned smut between our fave emotionally stressful pair!

NOTE- SOOoooo, If you follow the series then you know where we left off in PT.4! We’re going to dive into Jimins past very soon as it’s kinda coming to haunt him! You also know that there is an excerpt called “21 questions”. Which was meant to somewhat graze over both character's past and somewhat explain their personalities. As well as hint at future plots, however, I’m not sure if I want to continue with that particular writing style! Sooo....you learn a little bit more about the OC here! This little excerpt technically takes place after part 4, but before their approaching trip to Miami!

- Come talk to me!!! Almost P.5 Will somewhat pick up after 420, but I think I'm doing to do a little time jump(Just a couple days) so I gotta figure out how to close out where we left off because that does need closure. Then transition smoothly because the plot is starting to thicken and shits about to get real!

#Jimin smut #Jimin x reader #Jimin x you #jimin au #park jimin #park jimin smut #park jimin au #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #jimin angst #park jimin agst #bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts x reader #bts au #kpop au #kpop smut

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chocominnie · 3 years

Text

Desperado — 09 (M) | JJK

Pairing: Badboy!Jungkook X Reader

Summary : A messy situationship at it’s finest. You don’t even know whats headed your way, just even engaging in the slightest within him. See, he has an assignment to complete. A mission granted by his father thats do or die. You just so happen to be a major pawn in that assignment. He didn’t mean to take an interest in you. Surely it was an accident right? Only except. you hold much value in this game that he’ll do anything to complete it. Oblivious is what you are. Poor thing. Poor.. Poor thing.

Genre: Mature/ Mafia!Jungkook

Trailer: xxxxx preview 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

Word Count : 7.3k

Warnings : This honestly isn’t for the light hearted and the weak…High angst, usage of drugs, drug mentions, mental illness, switch!jungkook, Brat reader, possible stockholm syndrom, kidnapping, assault, death of side characters, murder, weapons, usage of weapons, masturbation, physical violence, blood, alcohol, weed, unprotected and protected sex, spanking, honestly its a lot of aruging…

Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

TW : Suicide, Body Hanging for display.

Her hair moves so flawlessly and the her breasts spill over the mini triangle bra with each sensual move she makes. The way her waist and body whines against the pole could leave absolutely anyone in a trance.The rhythm of the music blasts in the air and she’s directly on beat to it, not missing anything through the song playing.

The led lights are dimmed low enough in a red color, but enough for everyone to see. Shes uncaring at the men in the room sizing her up in her designer high waisted thong that hugs her hips very well, showing off her round, plump ass. That was what she wanted, the attention all on her while they throw hundred dollar bills for her.

“ Who knew someone could get down and dirty like that.”

To no suprise, Jimin, the ladies man but heartbreaker for sure, enters the private room and closing the door beind him. He throws a stack of money towards her, as he was the seemingly late one to the meet-up.

“ Jungkook is late, he’s never late. What’s taking him so long?” A grumpy Namjoon says, looking down at his apple-watch. It’s half past 10 pm and usually he’s the first one here.

“ He’s probably sucking up to yn-”

The girl turns her head sharply towards the boys, overhearing what they said. She furrows her eyebrows at them, “ Why would he be doing that..”

Taehyung lets out a small groan. “ Because Mr. Lover boy has gotten himself a crush. The worst part is, she’s his target for this mission.”

“ Shut the fuck up. I don’t have a crush on her, i’m just doing my job.” A semi-loud voice roars through the doors. Everyone stops to look at the sudden intruder and to relief it’s him, Jungkook.

Of course he has to lie about that. He knew for sure he caught himself up with you and the feelings were strong. Though the big bad mafia boy catching feelings for his target is highly uncommon, and Jungkook doesn’t know the consequences.

“ Jungkook..” The girl says, frowning at him with her hand on her hips. He takes a seat on the couch and tilts his head at her to go on. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at the young boy. “ You fell for her.. so what about us?”

It isn’t hard to say that he doesn’t have any more feelings left for the girl. She and him both knew what they agreed upon. The pair had history together, sexual to be exact. Romance was hardly there if he were to be honest. She’d began actually working for Won-Shik, under this club they’re in now which is owned by him, a year ago. Jungkook had entered the club once when he was considered a minor, but that was to pass a message along to the girl from his father. He was told to go straight in and straight out. Of course, he did the exact opposite. Sat around looking at all the half naked women that night as the music blared loud.

It wasn’t until his phone rang and it was Casper telling him to hurry up and come back to the car, is when he finally decided to get up and look for the girl. When he did find her, it was over with for him. The girl was, and still is, stunning. One of the many foreign girls in the club but she’s the one that stood out of all. She wore nothing but a small outfit as she danced on the pole. Her beauty mesmorized Jungkook that night as he watched her dance in awe. Soon enough she came to him showing her her dimply smile and perfect teeth.

He was stunned alright. She knew he looked to be too young for the club so she asked him his age. He told her, and thats when she nearly called security on him until he told her who he was and affiliated with. The message was passed along accordingly to her, she got the memo. Jungkook though, kept coming back to that club and always going to where she was, following her around the club like a lost puppy. She enjoyed his time, as all she did was sit and talk with him and that turned out to not be enough for him. He wanted her, and she insisted that he was too young for her.

So Jungkook did what any other person would do when feeling rejected, he started to present himself like a true man and mafia boy. The gym was his favorite place after that and he buffed up very well. That jawline of his got sharper and his personality gained more confidence and dominant by the time he turned nineteen. He of course kept going at her, shooting his shot anytime he could and yet kept getting denied. It wasn’t until his nineteenth birthday is when he begged her telling her how bad he wanted her, and that lap dance he kept suggesting months before. Since it was his birthday and he was legal, she gave him what he wanted but that still wasn’t enough for him. He wanted her underneath him bad. The slight age gap between them didn’t phase Jungkook at all. What he wants, is what he gets.

And he did.

And kept getting it, and getting it, and getting it since then.

“ Relax baby, I’ll still be coming around you know that.” His voice is smooth, smirking at her. He wasn’t going to be coming around as much, but he knew that would disappoint her.

She purses her lips and begins walking towards him and sits directly on his lap, straddling him. Jungkook can’t push her off the way he wants to because it would confirm the crush rumors from the boys about you. So he lets her sit there, uncomfortable as hell for him.

Namjoon clears his throat to get the rest of the group attention. It’s nearly 11 pm and Crystal has been blowing up his phone ever since he stepped foot in the club. He told her beforehand about the meeting, but she wanted him at her apartment by at least 1 am.

“ We all know you love yn, but remember who you are Jungkook.” Namjoon says, glaring at the boy who returns the glare back at him. “ Fuck you. Like I said, im just doing my job.”

“ If you were doing your job Jungkook, there’s no way in the hell that it should take you this long. “ Jin retaliates. He knows hes right.

By this time, Jimin had finished preparing seven perfectly rolled blunts filled with the most finest imported weed. He places them onto the tray, taking his own and then passing the tray to Yoongi. Each of the boys take their own until it reaches down to Jungkook who takes his and puts the tray back onto the table.

“ Enough about her. I was summoned to go over the details for the next seven days. “ Jungkook groans, sparking his blunt and inhaling. He passes it Melanie, who takes it to inhale as well.

A malicious smile comes upon Yoongi’s face as he exhales the smoke into the already fogged up air. One thing he loves to talk about is torture. One of bangtan’s best walking torture device to be known.

“ Tonight we are starting.. I say you let me go first.” Yoongi pauses, taking a long inhale of his blunt. “ I’m coming for their trade transaction place. Arson, let me burn the bitch down and then fuck around with their father.”

It’s a good idea. Sending a message after burning it down straight to it’s opponent. Fire is Yoongi’s thing, and that’s his signature marking in the Bangtan Boys. The father of the shooter was one of their dealers, until the shooter’s father fucked up by taking money out of bangtan’s cut little by little. The boys knew about it, they waited for the perfect time back then to take action. Of course, giving them a mission to complete.. or so he thought. The mission was a false one. Created by Jungkook to catch him off guard. Jungkook used some of the mafia men on Won-Shik’s side to set up a trade off of drugs, decieving the shooter’s father by thinking they were just setting up a regular mafia trade from another gang. The trade was complete, but their protection was no more. Needless to say, the men didn’t even make it back to their cars. It was a bloodshed war between Jungkook’s assigned men and their men. The point was to send a memo that the Bangtan Boys were coming for them, and coming hard.

Everynight for two weeks unimaginable signs were sent to their family. Ranging all the way from several gunshot bullets going through their home, to severed heads of previous betrayers of the bangtan boys, sitting right on their porch. By now, all the other gangs in Korea knew not to have any business with them.

“ Day 2 I want it. I’m going for the mother. That scamming bitch and her precious flower shop? I’m shooting it up. Whoever lives, lives. Whoever dies, dies.” Jimin shrugs, smirking as he leans back in his spot.

“ Day 3, for me I’m sending another message. One of their men is gonna die in my god damn hands. I’ll be sure to take a selfie and send it to the father. The body will lay hanging on that pretty little oak tree in their yard.” Taehyung says. The boys are roar with shock that he’s said that. Normally he doesn’t like touching a dead body, so it’s a change for him.

The boys continue listing off the days and assigned tasks for the rest of the night into the wee early morning. Namjoon left after his, of course going straight to his girls apartment. They don’t judge him, seeing as though the boy really is in love and knows when and how to handle it. He definately doesn’t mix business and his love life together, unlike his other hyung. Soon enough the banter and socializing ends and it’s time for Yoongi first.

Night 1

It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to find the place. The empty steets of Seoul have soon faded into just dirt roads with the city left behind. The humming of his porsche echos through the night time air. Yoongi takes one final turn, making sure to pull into the place slowly like a true hunter keeping it’s eye on its prey. It’s not a full house tonight, even better.

Taking the jug of gasoline out his car, he carries it with ease up to the empty warehouse. The wildlife outside don’t make a noise. As if they know who’s approaching and just shut right up. Forty degrees fahrenheit outside and lastnight’s snowfall piled all around.The darkness outside is haunting, anything could pop out at any second to kill the man. That doesn’t scare him at all. Darkness is always what he crave. Inside and out.

“ Sir.. do you want us to go in with you?”

Yoongi stops dead in his tracks. He’d almost forgotten about the back-up men Jungkook ordered for him. It’s not like he needed them anyways, but since Jungkook can’t be there with Yoongi, that was the next best choice.

Rolling his eyes without turning around,“ No. Wait in your cars. I’ll handle it on my own.”

Just like that. The boys are off like lightening. Yoongi takes one final step towards the two double doors, and begins to pour the gasoline at it’s starting point. Usually, he’d go from the inside out, but seeing as though he wanted them to scurry out fearing for their lives, this is the next option as well. Soon enough, the enire jug is empty and he’s now poured all of it around the outside of the warehouse. Leaves crunch with every step he makes back to the starting point. Part of him hopes they can’t hear him from the outside. It’ll ruin the plans.

The lighter in his pocket feels so smoothe against his palms as he reaches for it. It’s one of his signature ones with his initials on it. An andrenaline rush runs through his veins as flicks the ignition with his thumb. The flame all bright and orange as he stands there infront of the building. It’s going to be a damn good night.

Without hesitating, Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair and throws the lighter right onto the gasoline puddles. The way the whole ring of fire lights up infront of his eyes makes him laugh hysterically while watching the whole building go into flames. The loud crackling sounds of the now decomposing warehouse jumps him back into reality.

He heads right towards the big tree next to the right of the warehouse, leaning on it with one foot up against it with his hands crossed. That sinister smile doesn’t leave his face. He enjoys the view of the men from the inside running out as fast as they can. Some falling in the ring of fire in the process. The fire is no match for any human as they try to stop drop and roll. Ha, as if that would work with a 15 foot fire consuming the warehouse. The dead bodies pile up on their own, just burning in the fire over their simple mistakes of falling and thinking they would survive the fire.

Until the golden egg comes out. He’s furious as runs out perfectly, as if he’s been through this, without managing to catch on fire. Yoongi chuckles, leaning off the tree. “ Kang Dong-Woo.”

Usually Yoongi would use the honorfics to people who were much older than him. In this case though, he doesn’t deserve honorifics.

“ Min Yoongi.” He says, harshness laced within his voice. Dongwoo frowns when nearing the man. He knows what Yoongi is capable of, and that’s what sets his fight for flight into action.

“ Let’s get straight to it. Your daughter is after our leader. She seems to be doing the dirty work for you yeah? Did you not train her enough? Of course you know she wont be able to live after this right?”

Dongwoo laughs right into Yoongi’s face as if he was joking. It angers Yoongi, so he grabs Dongwoo by the shirt and drags the man over to the fire where he kicks the back of his legs to where he’s kneeling inches away from it.

“ I don’t think this is a laughing matter, Dongwoo.” He growls, tightening his grip around Dongwoo’s arms that are behind his back. “ You want to die?”

“ She’s gonna fuck you all over.” He growls.” You may think she’s not capable of finishing off you guys one by one, but she is. I raised and trained her since a kid. She’s stronger with more energy than me. She’ll kill you all when you least expect it.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at him.” The dumb bitch can’t even shoot right. Going for someone else knowing Jungkook would save them is an ameteur move. Should’ve went straight for his damn head.”

“ I’ll make sure she’ll bring you guys hell Min Yoongi. All of you. Tell that shit to Jungkook and his daddy for me alright?” He mocks, laughing again at the boy to taunt him.

Yoongi doesn’t care for it. He’s had enough of this foolish talk. With one swift move he kicks the man’s back making him fall down to the left side, away from the fire. He’s lost it. He’s totally lost it at this point and there is no going back. Kick after kick after kick, he doesn’t stop. No. Not until the Dongwoo is sure to cough up blood. The crimson liquid poors from his mouth as he lays there. No remorse is felt.

Besides, the bastard bitch needed to get the message. Consider it message recieved.

Night 2

The flower shop is full, but not full to its entirety. There's tons of different bouquets and arrangements set around the pretty shop, from what he can see from the outside. It’s almost closing time, an hour left. Jimin’s fingertips grip on the steering wheel, anxious but patient to make his move. He’s running off of pure adrenaline and 2 cans of monster that are crushed and sitting in the passenger seat. Waiting isn’t his forte and he’d honestly like to get this show on the road now.

The moon is out and shining bright tonight. A sigh escapes his lips when he glances again at the shop. The only reason he’s not done it yet is due to the fact that there is a child and his mother inside. Rule number 2 of Bangtan, injure no child. The price to pay if you were to break the rule? Simply it would cost you your own damn life.

As if time would of went any slower for the boy, the child and his mother finally made their transaction and made it out of the store, heading across the street to continue their journey of shopping. It’s go time.

He knew to come prepared with his bulletproof vest and full face ski mask, long Sleeve black shirt to cover all the markings he has and also the two tattoos on each of his arms. He knew that the little lady wouldn’t be so dumb to not carry, or at-least have someone inside that would be her undercover security. Considering who her husband is, there’s no way she won’t be protected.

Oh how innocent the people look to not know what’s coming next. Jimin loads his Glock 19 with golden bullets that have Bangtan Boys initials and symbols on it just before pulling his mask down and getting out the car. He makes sure to signal his back-up men to create a distraction so he could make his entrance. Sure enough, a loud boom in the near distance of what sounds like some type of construction falling, echos loudly. It turns heads from all around to look where the sound came from, making it easy for Jimin to slide into the flower-shop.

Not a sound made by him. He draws his gun and pulls the safety off the trigger, then cocks it. Eyes are all on him as his eyes shift around the room looking for his target. There she is, eyes wide in the middle of a transaction for two middle aged couple. His eyes set into hers, lowly smiling and pointing it at her. The way everyone frantically screams and cries out doesn’t phase Jimin, no. It just encourages him even more as he starts firing shots mid air, shooting any and every person in sight for the hell of it. Bodies drop to the ground, and the bloodbath begins.

Jimin doesn’t hesitate to step over everybody, eyes still set on his target. The middle aged couple’s shrieks were cut short by their bodies dropping to the ground with three shots each to their hearts.

“ Park J-” He cuts her crying off with a finger to his lips, daring her to say his name in public. She gets the memo. “ I wouldn’t if I were you.”

The barrel is pressed against her temple as she trembles with fear. He cocks his head to the side, smiling at her when he taps the gun against her head harshly, repeatedly. “ You know why I’m here.”

“ You kill me and she will murder you all.”

Jimin chuckles, “ That’s what you guys think. We don’t have time for your gimmicks. It was you guys who stole money from us. Why did you think you’d still be protected from the law from us? Getting your daughter to go for the leader first is dumb, like the rest of you.”

“ We almost went to prison for you guys, remember that? We needed that cut money from you guys to pay off our legal fees. Thats why we stole. We completed your dirty work while trying to pay off the fees, its the least you guys could of did as a reward.”

“ That’s not how it would’ve worked. You fucked up. All of you.”

With two shots to the leg, she falls into Jimins arms. He rolls his eyes and throws his body off of him and onto the floor. It’s going to be a headache trying to explain to the dry cleaners why there is blood stains on his designer ripped jeans.

Night 3

It was too easy, way too easy. It took nothing to lure that man right into Taehyung’s trap. Nothing but a simple few slick comments made to him for him to get a riled up at the wrong person. Taehyung had spotted the man prior heading into the park with a small duffle bag. He assumed it was for a night trade off for some other person who had delivered drugs for him. Nontheless, it was merely too easy to pose as the alleged person who completed the mission.

A rookie. That guy must’ve been a rookie.

When the money was handed off to Taehyung, he tossed it to the side and struck the man down. The two did fight on the concrete floor for a bit but the man was no match for Taehyung’s quick moves. Taehyung’s pocket knife dances around the man’s throat as his body is pinned to the ground.

“ Rookie mistake not verifying if I’m the real one.” He chuckles, pressing the blade against the mans neck. The man pleads for his life but it’s no use. Message must be sent, that it’s no way you’ll fuck around with Bangtan and escape.

“ You know, I would’ve trained you more than Dongwoo. Letting the weakest link go run an errand? Ha. Your boss set you up for that one.”

Although the man is merely innocent, it doesn’t stop Taehyung from slicing into the man’s neck. A blood curdling scream comes out, but soon hushed over as his will of breathing and screaming is cut. It’s music to Tae’s ears.

The body is transfered per request of Taehyung to his back-up men. It’s not like him to touch a bloody dead body. So they take him into the back of their car and follow Taehyung to the residential house of the shooter. Nothing more than 10 minutes away.

The lights are cut off in the neighborhood. Not a sound made other than the two cars coming down the street. Everyone seems to be at peace and quiet in their homes. Sleeping to say the least. Upon arrival, Taehyung parks his car right infront of the house. The back-up men drag the bloody body out the car and onto their lawn, placing it right under the oak tree.

Taehyung takes the rope be brought along with him, and begins to tie multiple knots around a sturdy branch from the tree. When done, he wraps some of the rope around the dead boy’s neck, tying it into a slipknot and hoists him up high into the air.

The body dangles from the tree like a flag waving in the sky proud and high. He signals for the boys that the assignment is done and that they’re free to leave. Taehyung though, he just sits back in admiration of his work. It’s been a while sinice he felt this way. So he stands there soaking it all in.

Message recieved.

Since it’s been three entire days of hell, Jungkook knew his day will be approaching faster than ever. If only it could get here faster though. Truth is, Won-Shik isn’t too happy about Jungkook’s plan still not being complete. At this point, the father is going against him any chance he gets to just get this over with.

Luckily, tonight he’d be able to meet with his father again with some good news. It hasn’t been brought to his attention yet about your father being in Taiwan. With the technology of Won-Shik’s men, your father could be brought here within 12 hours tops.

“ Father.” Jungkook says, entering his office doors. The boy fixes his leather jacket upon entering and places his hands back into his pockets. “ I have news.”

Won-Shik is one to not play around with. Interupting his office time is a big, big deal. One is to not enter without it being urgency. That rule still applies to the heir of the company. “ It better be damn good because your plan isn’t getting anywhere Jeon Jungkook.”

Won-Shik takes his glasses off and sets them to the side on his desk. Its full of papers and photos of himself and Jungkook when he was a child. His favorite one right in the middle, where Jungkook had just ate some cherry flavored ice cream and his lips were all red as he smiled for the camera showing his two front teeth. It reminded him of when Jungkook was easier to manage rather as to now where he’s a damn menace.

“ Taiwan. Her father is in Taiwan. I don’t think it’s Taipei though.. he’s hiding so a city wouldn’t be ideal. I say search the mountains first, then the city.”

Bringing this proposal to the table meant that Jungkook wanted to atleast gain his father’s trust back. Hell, he wanted all this to be over with by now because you were driving him crazy to the point where he’s beginning to actually forget who the hell he was and why he was assigned this mission. The plan was not to fall, but to complete. He’d be lying if he wasn’t knee deep in love with you right now. It all comes down to him protecting you from his father at this point.

“ So your little plan is suddenly working huh.. still doesn’t mean she gets to run free Jungkook.” He says, smirking at the boy to challange him. Jungkook knew that. Once it’s proven that your father is the snitch, all of the family dies.

You’re innocent. Too innocent to know that or to be even tangled in that mafia mess of his. Part of him wishes he never met you and never had been assigned this mission. Then everything would be so damn different and emotions wouldn’t be caught up in this. From the moment he met you, he knew it would be hard. You have always held a special part in his heart. Only because you acted just like his mother. Sweet, but sassy and it hurt him a lot on how you remind him of her. You even word your words just like her, even when upset. Everything about you, is just like her.

It was hard to not get attached to wanting to get to know you more. Somehow he thought that if he got to know you, he’d somehow fill that hole inside him of his mother’s disappearance. As if you were going to be his new replica as you would be the one to put a band-aid on that hole to patch it up.

Here you are, not knowing you could die any moment and it will all be thanks to Jeon Jungkook, who couldn’t save you fast enough.

“ I know. But she’s innocent. She doesn’t even know her dad worked with us. I swear she doesn’t.” Jungkook bites his lip in hopes that there could be someway to save you by the hands of your father.

“ I dont care!” He roars, jumping out his seat. Jungkook flinches, backing up a bit from the sudden outburst. “ You know not to mix business and pleasure. You reap what you sew. You get to pay the consequences.”

Jungkook knew that though.

“ Father-”

“ Nothing more. I’ll have my team start the search right now. You on the other hand, get you god-damn shit together Jungkook. You’re the heir, not a damn lover-boy. Got it?”

It is no use of arguing with him. Jungkook looks down at the ground and nods his head yes just before Won-Shik dismisses him. It’s going to hurt. Seeing you dead. He hopes for a miracle can happen, that your father will not be the snitch. That you and him could live happily ever after. There will no be any happily ever after about this situation though. One will die. Just a matter of who it will be.

The vibrating sensation in his pocket snaps him out of his trance. An incoming call from Namjoon. It’s alarming since today is Namjoon’s day of hell, and only one thing could be happening right now if he’s calling for Jungkook.

There’s been a mistake.

“ What is it Namjoon.”

“ She fucking outsmarted me. The bitch caught on to where my location would be for the next kill. I don’t know where the fuck she is Jungkook.. this is bad.”

Jungkook sighs heavily, closing his eyes while letting out strings of curses come from his mouth. Shit couldn’t get possibly worse than this right now. Namjoon said he’d wanted to go straight for the killer and bust her up a bit. Give her some words and a branding on her. He had wanted to do it with a knife, carving the initals of Bangtan Boys into her upper hip. Namjoon had zero problem tracking her next location down, as he had been keeping an eye on her all day. To him, it seemed as if she would be heading to an orchestra shop in the city. Every step she took, Namjoon took it too.

Until she rounded the corner to go inside the shop and she wasn’t there. There wasn’t any outlet. The shop was on a dead end street surrounded by other shops that they both had passed. There was no way she didn’t go back, he would of saw it. He saw her go into the store, so she had to be there right?

Wrong. You see she knew all this time that Namjoon was followering her while in disguise. The orchestra shop where she led him to, she knew the owner. They were good friends. She had spoken to him asking if that she could use his upstairs office to read over some of the newest edition of music pieces for her to practice. He obliged, and she made up there in time before Namjoon came inside.

Up there, she’d be lying if she wasn’t scared to death. All this week the boys had definately given her hell. Each day with zero remorse. It was taking a toll on her for sure. Taking up this assignment by herself wasn’t something easy but she wanted to prove to him that she can be just like him. That she wanted to work with him too to take down Bangtan for decieving them and leaving them in the dust.

She can’t do it. The boys are to expierenced for her. It’s a bad mistake that she cannot come back from. You see, she thought it would be easy to befriend you and become close to you after you’d laid eyes upon Jungkook your first day here. She knew you’d soon fall for him, like any other girl did, and that would be her easy acess to him from you. It was all planned beforehand. To be quiet and observe you and your moves with him. In her mind, Jungkook needed to die first. The boys can’t function all that well without him, so that would be the weak spot to take advantage of if he would’ve died when she knew he’d take the bullet for you. She coudn’t shoot him first, it’d be too straightforward and blunt.

It was going all well. Deep in the inside she was jealous of you as well. Sungmin had been her crush for years, they even almost dated. Until you came along and he left her in the dust for you. Sungmin is everything she wanted in a boy, but you took that away from her. Her chances to date him ruined by you. It hurt everyday to see him head over heels in love with you, when that was just her at one point before you came along. Not only that, but she seen the way you play with Sungmin’s emotions. It made her upset that you do that. Sungmin’s love is a drug, whether it be friendship love or romantic, nobody can get enough of it.

All this stressed her out to her max. Her family being hurt because of her, her mom unable to walk for the next few weeks is all because of her. Only cause she cannot complete this task she brought onto herself. As if being in danger because of Won-Shik and Bangtan wasn’t enough beforehand, she just made things worse all in all. There is no way out of this for her and her family. So it’s time to just accept it and say goodbye to it all and start a new life.

“ I’ll find her. You wait at the base and I’ll report back to you guys after I find her. When I do, you will come and finish your damn task Namjoon. Do you hear me?” Jungkook’s beyond pissed at this point. If it wasn’t for him, the boys would be lost as fuck without him.

He shoots Casper a text, letting him know that he is to follow him closely as he searches for her. To his luck, Casper was already outside his apartment building in his car. Not long after he pops those contacts in and changes his outfit again, he’s cruising the streets of Seoul in his midnight purple lamborghini.

The pain in his shoulder throbs with each turn he has to make with the wheel of his car. A little pain medicine would of helped beforehand, but rushing to get this shit over with was more important. This bitch definately has it coming. It’s been taking Jungkook these past few days to not just up and kill her. No that would just be too easy. Torture and marinating her to lose her shit at the last minute is something so satisfying to him.

The streets of Seoul soon end behind him and the Mappo Bridge comes into view. It had been an a whole hour searching around the areas of where she could’ve been, including where she was last seen. No sights of her at all. She’s good at this for sure. Text messages are sent back and forth between the boys and Jungkook. They’re all on edge, tired, and frustrated at this chasing game that they’re all playing.

He’d almost missed it. The body walking alongside the side-walk of the bridge with their head hanging low and hoodie on. It’s the hoodie of his school, but most importantly it has their class graduation year on it. It has to be her. Jungkook flashes his hazard lights on, letting Casper know to pull over with him.

It’s now or never.

After sending the text to Namjoon, he’s out the car and jogging towards the suspect. Height, body type, and shoes match the alleged identity. It seems she’s too into something to notice the extra footsteps behind her. He can’t do anything to her though, it’s not his night.

“ Kang Minlee.”

She stops dead in her tracks as if a ghost had called her name. Frozen, she stands there contemplating on running or staying. If she runs, she’s dead. If she stays, shes dead.

“ You think..” He pauses, grabbing her arm and turning her around to face him. Her face is red from crying and her glasses all fogged up from underneath her mask. For a split second, Jungkook does feel regret.

Killing a classmate of his wasn’t something he’d ideally let happen. But it’s far too late to not have her killed off. “ You think that running away is the best option?”

Minlee trembles underneath his grip, “ I made a mistake. Please just let me go. Let me and my family go and we’ll leave you alone forever.” She breaks down into tears, placing her hand over his in attempt to let her go.

It didn’t hurt Jungkook to see her like this. All in all it just feels weird to him. Weird to have one of his classmates begging for her life to be spared from the gruesome events to come.

“ You know I can’t do that.” It honestly can’t be an option at this point. It’d be better to just continue out her days of hell with her family. “ You came for me, that means you die.”

Finally she jerks her arm back from his still in tears as she starts to back away slowly. Jungkook knew that she wouldn’t run. Not in this case. Letting her cry it out was the best way, hell it’s the only way because Namjoon would be here any minute to brand her. It would mean she belonged to Bangtan after that, and she’d have to keep quiet as they planned out her death.

Her sudden movement from the ground to climbing up the railing of the bridge alarms Jungkook. She cries louder when Jungkook comes closer to getting her down so he stops. Suicide? Right now? What happened to being all big and bold? It confuses Jungkook as to why she would take her own life right now. Either way she’d still end up dead and unhappy if Bangtan would kill her or she’d kill herself.

“ Jungkook!” She semi-yells, pointing to the direction behind him as another guy approaches them. Just in time, the sound of Namjoon’s car can be heard from afar. He’s getting close.

The guy she’s pointed to is Casper, who’s also alarmed at the fact that she’s close to the edge right now. Jungkook holds his hand up at Casper for him to stop right there and shakes his head, meaning that it’s too risky for Casper to step in right now. Casper nods and Jungkooks turns back to the scene.

“ Don’t you think that I’ve suffered enough? Everyday you guys give me hell. My mom can’t walk because of you guys, and my dad has health issues. You left us in the dust when we needed your support the most! I was almost put up for adoption a year ago because of you!” She sobs, wiping her never ending tears with her hoodie sleeves.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say, or do. It’s not like him to have sympathy over a rival. It’s just not in him at this very moment.

Minlee continues on, “ Yn? She took what’s mine. My Sungmin. She plays with his heart and it hurts him a lot. I wouldn’t have did that. But no, he’s head over heels in love with him. I got left in the dust when she came along and it looks like everyone loves her, including you Jungkook. My friendgroup does anything and everything she wants because she’s just oh so little miss perfect. That was supposed to be me!”

There it is. The jealousy. Jungkook would have never known it. It’s all news and shock to him. Sungmin and Minlee? Didn’t seem like a match to begin with.

Her dramatic meltdown continues on, but Jungkook allows it. Namjoon will be here any minute to sneakily get her down. Where is he and why the hell is he taking so long?

As if on cue, Namjoon pulls up to the scene and immediately gets out his car running towards the girl. Jungkook waves his hands for him to stop, eyes wide with a finger to his lips. The last thing he wanted was for the girl to jump. A death from their school? Surely was to be put on him and his boys.

Namjoon stops infront of Jungkook’s car, confused as to what’s going on. Jungkook mouthes to him the words suicide attempt. That’s when Namjoon gets it and decides to let him handle getting her down.

“ Yeah it was meant to be you. But I plan to take Yn away anyways. Then you and Sungmin could come together again.” Jungkook’s convincing isn’t convincing enough, she doesn’t buy it at all.

“ If I get down I’m going to die. There is no escaping that within the next few days i’d be dead in your hands. I made a mistake and there is no going back. Spare my parents. Let them live. I’m the one that started this. I’ll be the one to finish it.”

The girl lifts one foot off the railing and leans backwards. Jungkook’s breath hitches along with Namjoons. No. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

“ Kang Minlee!” They both scream, running towards her. It’s too late though. Her body falls gracefully down as all three of them watch over the railing. She looks peaceful, a smile on her face while her body is sprawled out in the air.

Inches before she hits the water, the three of the boys look away with only the sound of dense water splashing to fill their ears. Namjoon sighs, putting his hands against his head. Jungkook stands there in complete shock. Casper, well Casper just shakes his head knowing the two boys weren’t prepared for that.

“ We fucked up Jungkook.”

“ I fucking know that Namjoon.” His voice cracks. It isn’t like Jungkook to cry. No not at all. Especially for a target like that. At the end of the day she was human and she did what any daughter would do for her family.

She was also your friend.

You hadn’t heard about her death yet the next day. It’s a normal saturday morning for you. This time you’d decided to go to the cafe with your laptop and write your essay for your Psychology class. The cafe is nice, it’s cat themed and has some pretty kittens running around the outside of the kitchen and customer service area.

As soon as you order and sit down with your Caramel frappe you spot a white kitten laying near you on the floor. A smile comes upon your face when it comes to you when you call for it. They don’t have these in Canada. Cat Cafes. The kitten lets out his purrs when you rub his back as he lays across your lap. The nametag says Mochi, a cute name for a cute kitten.

Minutes seem to pass by without your knowledge. You’d been too into typing to hear the news on the tv being broadcasted live. It wasn’t until you heard suicide of a teenage student on Mappo Bridge. That got your attention.

You listen carefully as the news reporter goes into detail of how the body was found. It had gotten caught on a rock as the stream moved it around. A mother had found it with her kid as they walked across the bridge that early morning to look at beautiful water. It saddens you to know someone took their life. Maybe if that person had access to getting help, they’d live to see many more days.

When they announce the name and show a school picture of the student, the look on your face drops.

Minlee. It’s Minlee on the screen. Its all too much for you right now. Your stomach twists and turns along with your hands that begin fidgeting. She seemed so healthy and happy these past few days when you saw her. It didn’t add up. It wasn’t going to ever add up to you that you had just lost one of your new friends.

Packing your things up in a hurry, your phone begins to go off with a bunch of text messages at a time. You know it could be the groupchat. What you wanted to the most right now, is to go home to cry and calm down. You shove everything in your backpack and place the kitten back on the floor nicely before taking off towards the door. You bump into somebody on the way out, causing them to drop a picture in their hand. The two of you both reach to pick it up, but they pick it up first before you.

“ I’m sorr-”

You’ve seen her before. Long curled hair, big dimple on her left cheek, and bangs.

There’s no fucking way.

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

Text

The Long Con Part Three

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: Cursing; a little angst; mostly fluff tho Summary: When Marcus had first come to your lecture to ask for your help, he had been hesitant.

Over the course of the following week, you spent more time with Marcus - both on the phone and in person - for the sake of getting a little more comfortable with one another. But to your surprise, there really wasn’t much that needed to be eased into. You went over to his place a couple more times, and he surprised you by showing up at your office once. He even plopped himself down on your crummy little office couch with a stack of quizzes and an answer key while the two of you chatted.

You’d been stunned to find how easily conversation flowed between the two of you, beyond his work at the Bureau. Sure, the two of you talked about his work, but he liked to hear about yours, too - about the student that had come to you for help with her thesis on Han Van Meegeren; about the freshman in your Art History 101 class that had turned up reeking of weed and raised their hand to clarify that you were discussing Michelangelo the painter, not the Ninja Turtle. Now and again, though, as things quieted between the two of you, Marcus would remind you how grateful that he was that you were doing this - that you didn’t have to, that he owed you one. You’d always lightly wave him off, tell him you’d never been to Austin and were getting free cake out of it. Marcus told you about growing up in Austin, living there; the band he’d been in in college, playing bass and singing; he told you about his ex-wife and ex-fiancé, and that he hadn’t given up on love yet. You told him about the endless days that you had spent at museums and galleries as a child, taking tours and falling in love with art and history. He never pressed you for details about your grandmother, about how you were moved from place to place, about when and how you began to fence her work for her. With Marcus, those things really didn’t seem to matter. But you felt so safe with Marcus, so comfortable that, well— You would’ve told him, if he asked. -- When Marcus had first come to your lecture to ask for your help, he had been hesitant. When the two of you got off of the plane in Austin, he was downright nervous.

The two of you used the flight going over your story again, running through some of the particulars of the week’s schedule that you hadn’t gotten to go over the week before. You also began to ease into that casual PDA that you knew his family would expect from the two of you - holding hands intermittently, touching the other on the knee to draw the other’s attention: twice, he’d leaned over and murmured in your ear to comment on the show that the person sitting in front of you was watching; once, you’d reached out and brushed back a stray strand of hair that had come loose from his otherwise controlled coif.

He’d been a little uneasy as you’d gotten on the plane, and slightly jittery during the trip. It wasn’t a lengthy flight, so it didn’t take terribly long for his nerves to intensify. His leg had started bouncing somewhere over Atlanta. It hadn’t gotten any better as the plane had started to descend. What discomfort had triggered in Marcus was a hometown fact info-dump that you could never have seen coming. And god, it was some of the nerdiest shit that you’d ever heard. “You know this airport has one of the country’s longest commercial runways?” He told you as he hauled your suitcase off of the baggage carousel. “Really?” You asked teasingly. Marcus nodded, seeming to miss your tone as he lifted his own off of the carousel and set it down. “It used to be an old Air Force base, back in the— the 40′s? It actually opened to the public in, uh—1999 and—” “Hey,” You reached out, cupping his face to focus him. He went quiet, lips parted in surprise. You offered him a gentle smile. “It’s going to be fine,” You insisted. Marcus’ shoulders relaxed a little, and he turned his head, pressing a kiss to one of your palms. The feeling sent a wave of warmth through you, and you smiled, sweeping a thumb along his cheekbone before you let your hands fall away. You had to remind yourself that those little touches would be commonplace throughout the week.

“Before we get out there,” He said quietly. “Mm?” “I know I’ve said this before, but I really, really appreciate you doing this. I mean you didn’t have to, and… I wanna thank you for being here with me.” You felt your stomach flutter at his thanks, and you nodded. “Thank you for trusting me to be,” You returned. Marcus’ eyes searched your face for a moment, warm and kind, and the urge to hide bubbled up in your chest. You didn’t know what he was looking for, and you didn’t know if he would find it. “C’mon. We don’t wanna keep your mom waiting,” You added, taking hold of the handle of your suitcase. Marcus nodded, shifting his bag onto his arm and taking hold of your free hand. You intertwined your fingers, glancing up at him to make sure it was alright. He smiled, giving your hand a squeeze in turn. “How do you know so much about the airport, anyway?” You asked curiously. “Oh-- I’ve got a cousin that works here.” “You’ve got all the inside dirt, huh? I see how it is.” “Marky!” You heard crowed from a little ways away. “Marky?” You repeated quietly, glancing up at him, and grinning when you saw an embarrassed flush tipping his ears. “Do not start using that--” “Oh I’m so using it,” You laughed as the two of you approached the woman that had called out to him, “Gimme your bag,” You urged, gently untangling your hand from Marcus’ to take hold of his duffel so that he could hug his mother unencumbered. “Thanks-- Hey, mom,” Marcus grinned, embracing his mom. You grinned, watching the two of them, listening as the two chattered a little as they held to one another. He was nearly a head and a half taller than she was. “Is there someone you’d like to introduce me to?” She asked, peering at you around his arm. Marcus smiled, leaning away from her. “Yeah, there is. C’mere, sweetheart,” He murmured, holding a hand out to you. You felt yourself thrill a little, bashful as you ducked your head a bit. The two of you hadn’t discussed pet names, but ‘sweetheart’ sounded...so terribly dear coming out of that man’s mouth. You stepped closer to Marcus as he introduced you, passing his bag back when he gestured for it. “This is my mother, Jill Pike.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Pike,” You said lightly, holding your hand out to shake hers. “Call me Jill-- Oh, come here,” Jill laughed, tugging you in for a hug without a moment’s hesitation. Your brows rose at the tug, but you took the hug that was offered, smiling and laughing a little bit. “Jill-- it’s a pleasure to meet you. Marcus talks about you all the time.” “Oh,” Jill leaned away, holding you at arm’s length, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, too! I’ll admit Marky has been light on the details,” She shot Marcus a look, as he made careful study of his shoes. “Oh, ma’am, I’m afraid that’s my fault,” You cut in quickly, “I’ve been told I’m a little hard to pin down.” Jill’s brows rose. “Mark, this one is a firecracker! Where’d you two meet?” She asked, hooking her arm through yours and steering you toward the exit. “Work. She’s been kind enough to assist us on several cases. We’d be lost without her.” You shot Marcus a thankful smile over the top of Jill’s head as the two of you walked through the parking lot. “He’s being too sweet-- You guys’d be fine.” “No, not true,” Marcus volleyed back, “That break in the Rosepoint case? It would’ve taken us months to find that dealer-- and the forger.” “Weeks at best.” “You cut the time down, sweetheart, just-- Take the compliment,” Marcus pouted a little, and you rolled your eyes, smiling. “Well, I’m glad I could help.”

“You wanna sit up front?” Marcus offered, taking hold of your suitcase and lifting it into the trunk of his mom’s car.

“Why don’t you? Give you and your mom some extra face time before the week gets busy,” You said.

Jill smiled, giving your arm a light squeeze before letting go. Marcus rounded the car, opening the back door for you and pecking your cheek before you got in.

You’d been a little apprehensive when Marcus had told you that you’d be staying with his family for the duration of the visit. But apparently Marcus always stayed with his family when he went home now, and you didn’t want to further mess with the family dynamic. He’d reassured you that the house had room enough for you all to be comfortably situated. “My parents can be a little old-fashioned,” He’d warned, “You know-- unmarried couples can’t sleep together, that kinda thing, but the house has three bedrooms. I’ll be in my old room, and you’ll be bunking in Marnie’s with her massive canopy bed-- and her Air Supply poster.” You’d appreciated his reassurances. The two of you had certainly gotten more relaxed around one another in his apartment and your office, but it was one thing to be nearby one another. It was another entirely to share a bed. You felt your nerves roil up in you as Marcus and Jill chatted in the front seat. You contributed to the conversation a little, answered questions when they were asked of you, but said little else. You were careful not to use your phone for the duration of the car ride, not wanting to seem rude, or like you weren’t paying attention. As Jill pulled the car into the driveway of the house on the wooded hillside, you found yourself perking up a bit more, despite your trepidation. You noted Marcus glancing back to look at you, but couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eye as you tried to take in each new little detail. He and Jill were still chattering as the three of you got out of the car, but you bring yourself to contribute. You just couldn’t help stop yourself from looking around. You looked over the two-story home with exposed brick exterior and dark wooden door. You spotted someone peering out at you through the front window before hurrying away when you met their eyes. Marcus’ hand rested on your lower back as he murmured, “Are you alright?” In your ear. “You grew up here?” You asked, a little dazed. Moving around as much as you had, the places you’d stayed had never been any bigger than a two-bedroom apartment. You couldn’t imagine spending your whole childhood in a house— especially one as beautiful as this. “Yeah,” Marcus chuckled softly as he steered you up in the front walkway, “If you think this is nice, wait until you see the back porch.” “You have a porch?” “Oh, honey,” Jill laughed as she opened the front door, “We’ll have to get you down here more often.”

Marnie was a streak of dark hair and lanky limbs that launched herself at her brother with a squeal of excitement the second Marcus crossed the threshold. He dropped his hand from your back just in time to catch hold of her, clearly anticipating the charge. You smiled, taking a step to the side to give them adequate room as Marcus lightly rocked them side to side. “Do you have any siblings?” Jill asked softly as the two of you watched the reunion, the two chattering between one another. You shook your head a little bit, glancing over at Jill and smiling. “Do you?” “Five sisters. Imagine that bathroom when we were all late for school,” Jill laughed. You turned back as you heard Marcus say your name. “Oh, I know who she is,” Marnie waved Marcus off as she broke away from her brother, “Honestly, no name has puzzled me more since you told me that you were talking Shlomo Ziegler to prom.” “Was...Shlomo going with someone else?” You frowned. “There was no Shlomo Ziegler. He heard the name on an episode of the Golden Girls,” Jill explained. “Oh, honey,” You turned a sympathetic smile up at Marcus before taking a step closer to Marnie. Marnie had the same kind eyes that her brother did. Their noses were the same, too, but her cheekbones and lips were like her mother’s. She pulled you in the same way that Jill did, giving you a light squeeze before leaning back to get a better look. “It’s nice to meet you,” You smiled, “I’ve heard a lot about you-- About all of you.” And that was technically true. “I’ll grab your bag and run it up to Marnie’s old room,” Marcus reassured, resting his hand on your lower back. “Oooh,” Marnie cringed, glancing between the two of you, “I meant to mention, um-- I’m staying here this week.” Marcus froze, glancing between you and Marnie. “W-Why?” “Well, Hazel and I thought it would be kinda cute, you know, spending the week apart. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and stuff.” “So I’ll...Sleep... On the couch?” Marcus frowned. Jill waved him off. “Oh, you and your sweetheart can sleep in the same room. You’re all adults now, christssake,” She laughed, reaching up and pinching his cheek. You glanced back at him, raising a brow at his stunned expression. This was going to be an adjustment, but part of the reason you were down there with Marcus was to help him roll with the punches. He could only do that if you did. “Yeah, Marky,” You smiled, reassuring, “We’re all adults.” Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @blueeyesatnight ; @elen-aranel ; @yespolkadotkitty ; @artsymaddie ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @lunaserenade ; @winniedaboo ; @empress-palpat1ne ; @randomness501 ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb ; @the-feckless-wonder ; @lou-la-lou ; @captain-jebi ; @supernaturalgirl ; @naturenebula21 ; @evelynseventyr ; @giselatropicana ; @heatherbel ; @marydjarin ; @annathewitch ; @absurdthirst

#The Long Con #marcus pike x reader #Marcus Pike x You #Marcus Pike/Reader #Marcus Pike/You #Marcus Pike Imagine #Marcus Pike Fic

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youresog0lden · 4 years

Text

Professor II Matthew Grey Gubler

Summary: you and your friend our out clubbing when you run into a very hot professor.

Warnings: Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Professor Kink, Cursing, The use of alcohol and drugs (Just weed.)

GIF NOT MINE

masterlist

WC: 2.5K

"At least I'm not high- Right now." I finished. She looked at me with pleading eyes.

"Speaking of being high, when is Adam going to be here?" I questioned. Adam our... or more specifically my dealer. I only asked him to bring me a little bit today. I didn't need to be half out of it at a bar. She let's out a long sigh. She knew she couldn't be mad she loved getting high as much as me. She just knew that it could get us in trouble from time to time.

"He should be here soon." she says before walking into her room.

"I love you." I called out knowing I already annoyed her for the night.

"The first round is on you tonight." she sighed.

"Yessss" I jumped up and down squealing like a little girl. She came out of her room quickly grabbing her phone.

I pressed the order button on my phone, ordering a uber.

"It will be here in about half an hour."

"Your eyes are really red." she laughs. For the next hour we we're down in our living room smoking a joint. I snort, causing her to laugh even harder. We we're now laughing at some kid we went to high school with.

"This could be bad publicity for the movie." she spoke softly. I laugh. Ah the movie. The one where I am supposed to be playing the innocent girl who falls in love with her professor. Who might I add is quite attractive. Matthew Grey Gubler. The classic professor. Everyone said that he would make a great one seeing as he played Spencer Reid on Criminal Mind.

"It doesn't matter. I'm just living my life. They shouldn't fire me because I drink and smoke. I told them before I started that I smoke and drink they said as long as I didn't show up high or anything they could give less or a flying fuck." I hiccup. She nods.

"Uber's here." I say taking one last look in the mirror. I was wearing a black skin tight dress with thin straps and red heels. Jessie was wearing a red skin tight black dress with this straps and black heels. We both grab out bags of the hooks and keys. I lock the door as she goes to the Uber. We both get in being taken off to our favorite bar. Finally arriving we thank our driver and make our way into the bar showing our ID. It was truly one of my favorites from the dancing floor to the table to the staff. It never smelled like sweaty bodys. They made sure to keep this place intact knowing some of the most famous people ever come her.

"Let's get drinks then dance." she says over the music. I nod.

"Go find a table and I'll get drinks." She walks away leaving me to go to the bar. I take a seat right beside a buffer looking man. Waiting for the bartender. She finally makes it over to me.

"Hi what can I get you pretty lady." she smiled at me.

"Can I get a bloody Mary and a black Russian." I smile. The guy was now staring at me watching me talk. She nods before walking away.

"Hello pretty." he said picking at the peanuts on the counter.

"Hi." I mumbled.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing here all alone." he touches my shoulder moving up to my face cupping it.

"I'm not here alone." I spoke. He lets out an uncomfortable laugh. I take his hand off my face seeing him pout. The bartender comes over this the drinks.

"Thank you." I smile she nods walking way again. I grab the clear glasses walking away before feeling a grip on my arm.

"Come on stay with me. It will be fun." he says.

"No thanks." I laugh walking away. He rolls his eyes before muttering a quick 'bitch'. I set the drinks down and get into the booth with her. We take a sip of our drinks.

"I failed my English Lit class." she sighed. I let out a laugh.

"How. You are literally going to be a English Lit major." I let out a low chuckled. She hits my arm sighing again. She takes a sip of her drink before choking on it. I let out a obnoxious laugh.

"Don't look now, but professor hottie is coming our way." she looks behind me.

"Professor hottie?- Oh." I quickly turn around in the booth peeping my head out. Eyes locking with him as he sends me a heart-warming smile. I smile back.

"I told you not to turn around." she laughs. He was now standing at our table.

"Hi y/n!" he exclaims. I slide out of the booth standing up he wraps his arms around me I do the same around his neck. His arms go lose so I unwrap them around his neck.

"Matthew, this is Jessie. Jessie, this is Matthew." I slide back into the booth. She smiles saying 'hi' before going on her phone probably texting one of her boy-toys to come out like she always does.

"Do you wanna sit." I asked patting the seat next to me. He nods taking it I look down at my drink then at Jessie's.

"Do you wanna go get refills?" I ask her.

"Yeah. Bloody Mary?" she asks I nod watching her walk away before seeing her turn around quickly.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry do you want something." she looked at Matthew.

"Um whiskey is fine." he said softly. She nods this time sending me a wink before walking away.

"So Matthew what are you doing here?" I asked him putting my elbow on the table and laying into it.

"Well my friends invited me to come with them the we ended up getting separated and now I'm here." he smiled. I nod looking at him taking in his features. He was wearing a light purple button up with a few buttons undone. His hair was tousled in the front and the sides cut shorter. He looked hot. I refocus on him right as Jessie was coming back drinks. She hands him his and mine to me. I slowly nurse on it watching as Matthew and Jessie engage in a conversation. He could make talking look attractive. I just listened to there conversation. Finally the alcohol was getting to me because once they stopped talking I looked over at Matthew.

"Do you wanna dance?" I asked him. He whipped his head around and looked at me before smirking. Damn.

"Sure." he steps out of the booth holding his hand out for me. I smiled taking it before turning around and looking at Jessie sending her a wink. When we come in we get to leave our bags at the front and pay for our drinks when leaving so I didn't have to worry about my bag. I guide him to the dance floor. Before hearing 'the hills' come on. I take his hands onto my hips swaying them to the beat. I found myself wrapping my arms around his neck his wrapping around my waist moving with me. He puts his head into my neck leaving soft kisses on the skin the stubble tickling my neck and roaming his hands all over my front. He kisses up to my ear before nibbling on it lightly. I grind harder against him earning a groan in my ear. His hold on my waist got tighter pressing himself against me letting me take in the fact that he was hard. I turn around now facing him seeing his eyes completely being taken over with lust. My arms we're still around his neck his we're still around my waist. I take this opportunity to pull him closer to me. He breaks the space between us by smashing his lips onto mine. I run my hand up to his hair, him running his down to my ass giving it a squeeze. We we're like this for almost ten minutes before I pulled away.

"Do you want to go to my house." he asked. I nod eagerly we walk hand in hand to the front desk. I give her my number getting my bag and paying for the drinks. We rush out and get in his car. We shut the doors before attaching our lips together again him pulling me into his lap. I start grinding on him again earning a soft moan to escape his pretty lips. He starts to pull up my dress his hands running over my thighs. His fingers graze over your clit while his lips never leave my neck. I let out a soft moan as he smirks.

"Are we going to fuck in your car or are we going to go to your house." I said breathy. His mouth moves from my neck to my ear again.

"I'd fuck you anywhere I could get you." he growls into my ear his voice low sending a shiver down my spine. I gasp just thinking of it but, before I could make my next move he was moving me off his lap and into the seat beside him. He starts the car before pulling out of the parking lot putting his hand on my thigh his thumb drawing circles on the inner portion. After driving and teasing me with his thumb for what felt like hours we finally arrive into the parking spot of his house. Very few cars here, leaving it feel dreary. He shuts off the car looking at me with the same eyes he did the very first time we met on set.

He was standing there with this goofy grin on his face as I walked up to him introducing myself.

"Hi. I'm Y/n Y/L/N" I smiled holding out my hand. He gladly shook it before telling me his name.

"Hi I'm Matthew Grey Gubler." he smiles. His smile alone could say a thousand words. He was wearing a blue button up shirt with a goofy pattern, a pair of light blue jeans with one leg rolled up, and mitch-matched socks with a pair of nikes. I scanned him a few times.

"So you got the role as Ashton, the quite girl who falls in love with me?" he questioned, I nod letting out a laugh.

"Yeah!" I exclaimed. I spent that whole time getting to know him and meeting the cast it was genuinely a dream come true. I look at Matthew for a second before leaning into him pressing my lips against his. For almost a split second it was almost sweet quickly turning heated. He pulls off my mouth taking my bottom lip with him. He get's out of the car, leaving me sitting in there for a second. I almost forgot he was out there until I heard the car door open.

"Are you coming?" he laughs. I quickly snap my head in the direction blushing getting out of the car. I follow him into the direction of his house. He unlocks the door walking in and opening his arms telling me to walk in, so I quickly follow his arms into his house. I don't even have time to look around my back already being pressed against the door. His lips pressing against mine hard tongue's clashing, teeth to. His lips part from mine, hands roaming up and down my thighs, his lips start at my lip, one kiss on my lips. Next, on my cheek. Then, on my jaw. After, all around my neck. Sucking, nipping, biting. Small moans leaving my mouth, feeling Matthews smirk against my skin. His hands rush to pull my dress up enough of his to get sight of my underwear. I hear a light groan emerge from his throat.

"I've thought about this so many times while on set." he groans his hands pulling the dress over my head. He grips my thighs picking me up, the sudden movement causes a slight giggle to come in the air.

"Oh really?" I questioned. He nods laying me down on his couch grinding himself again me. My fingers working there way down his shirt unbuttoning them one by one finally, the tan man in front of me sitting there shirtless. I push him back slightly enough for me to sit on his lap. His hands go to my ass giving it a squeeze. I let out a short moan, he groans in satisfaction. I grind my clothed area against him.

"Fuck." he pants. He doesn't take but a second to lift me up slightly taking off his pants and boxers. He stops for a second, putting his hands into my underwear. Touching where I needed him the most. God this man shouldn't be real.

"Fuck Matthew." he almost immediately stopped.

"It's Professor." he smirked. That shouldn't have been as hot as it was.

"Yes professor." I moaned causing him to plunge two fingers into me.

"Oh my fucking god." I cry out.

"I didn't know such a pretty girl could say such dirty things." he laughs his fingers going harder curving slightly. I just let out a moan feeling my self going to the edge.

"I'm-I" I couldn't form a full sentence. He seemed to know what I meant because not to long after his finger found my clit moving his thumb in circles.

"I'm going to cum." I cried.

"Come for me princess." he sang. I came and I came hard riding out my high, his fingers still working relentlessly into me. He finally pulled his fingers out of me and into his mouth groaning at the taste of myself. He pulled his finger out of his mouth smirking at me again. I grab his neck pulling it closer to me, just enough for out lips to touch.

"Please fuck me professor." he nods pulling my underwear down laying me back down onto the couch. He puts the tip right at my entrance teasing me.

"God please just fuck me already." I pleaded.

"That's not how you ask baby." he was being cocky. He wanted me to beg.

"Please, please, fuck me-" I stop for a second thinking.

"Professor." I continue. He doesn't ask again slamming into me. Not letting me adjust to his size before taking himself out and slamming into me again.

"Fuck." I cry out. His hips move faster and faster. Every time he goes harder we both let out a whimper.

"God you take my dick so well don't you baby." he asked hitting my g-spot every time.

"Yes professor." I call out.

"That sound's so perfect rolling off your tongue."

"I'm so close." I said.

"Me too." he says working his fingers around my clit again driving me over the edge.

"Come for me." he groans just as he said I did. After a few sloppy thrusts he shoots filling me up. Falling on top of me. We sit there in silence. He sits up wondering off. I pick up his shirt putting it on and sliding on my underwear. He comes back with a towel in his hand and he's wearing sweatpants. He looks at me in his shirt and let's out with goofy grin.

"I wanna see you like this forever."

#matthew gray gubler #matthew grey gubler smut #mgg #mgg fic #mgg smut #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid

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gravelyhumerus · 4 years

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 7

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

Hallowe’en chaos.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

After trivia night, Emily Prentiss found her world had shifted slightly.

For the first time in her life, she had a friend group: a consistent presence of not only just Derek and the occasional Hotch, but also Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia and most importantly, Jennifer Jareau.

Emily noticed it most in the dining hall. Most mornings this semester, she would grab coffee and maybe an apple on her way to class. Now, she was invited to breakfast in the caf. And everyone was also invited, so the six of them began eating not only breakfasts together when their schedules lined up, but soon that melded to include dinners and the odd lunch between classes. While Penelope initiated at the beginning, soon this became a routine.

While they were all busy, and driven people, all with full course loads, extracurriculars and miscellaneous commitments, they managed to get the whole team together multiple times that week.

A few times, extra faces joined them. Penelope’s friend from class, Kevin… something, joined for a lunch on Wednesday. He sat shyly as Derek stared him down the entire time. On Thursday, somehow Hotch convinced their Criminology TA, David Rossi, who was part time Masters Student and part time weed dealer, to have lunch with the bribe of them using their guest pass so he could get a free meal. He reluctantly acquiesced, but seemed to enjoy himself. On Friday, the day before Halloween, Emily brought Tara Lewis, the MC from the Trivia night that was two years ahead of her in criminology, they ran into each other in the quad, recognizing each other. This open door policy made these dinners fun, with new faces alongside their team.

This was all new for Emily. Not having friends, that is, because Emily could always muddle along with some friends, and when she was younger she shaped herself easily into whatever the popular kids wanted her to be. No, it was new because it was so easy. The team, as they now called themselves as a shorthand, had fallen together so effortlessly.

Today was Halloween and they had plans at Dave’s student house, the shabby place that she had ran into JJ, Penelope and Spencer all that time ago. Had it only been a month? She felt like she had known them all for lifetimes by now.

It happened that way with Derek last year, the whole living together thing sped up that connection. Intimacy comes fast when you brush your teeth next to someone.

Emily was sitting at her desk, finishing up her makeup. She was aiming for a vampire, which wasn’t hard given her previous fashion aesthetic.

Yes, Emily did have a goth phase. She will admit it. Not to her new friends just yet, and Derek had been sworn to secrecy. She was now a much more toned down goth, more alt than goth, wearing mostly black but significantly less chains and make up.

Tonight, she wore her fishnets, a short black dress and a cape that was already tied around her shoulders. She had put a slightly too pale foundation on her face, down her neck, and was currently working on her eye liner. She carefully created elegant swoops over her lashes, coming to sharp points.

Next, she added a deep red lipstick. Blood red. It was all very spooky.

Finally, she struggled to test out the fake teeth insert that she had ordered online, slipping it over her top teeth. It fit surprisingly well.

“Happy Halloween,” she said to herself, testing out whether or not she had a lisp. She did. She didn’t care. It was perfect.

Emily did a couple of spins in the mirror on the back of the door. Turning off the overhead light, she looked at herself in the glowing light of her string lights.

She was satisfied. She looked like a hot vampire.

She grabbed her tote bag, which was filled with six miscellaneous beers and coolers that she had leftover from the last few weeks, knowing that she hated the cheap hoppy beer that Rossi would have at his party.

Emily was picky about her alcohol.

She glanced out the window, considering taking an extra layer. It was dreary outside, with the sky an eerie green and powerful gusts of wind rattling the window. Emily grabbed her leather jacket.

Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder and draping her coat over her arm, Emily peeked out of her door, looking out into the hall. In both directions were students in costume; she spotted a Frankenstein, a couple of cats and even someone dressed up in an inflatable t-Rex suit.

She made sure her door was locked and then walked down the hall to Derek’s room, who was at the very end of the hall, as he had lucked out and got a massive room with lots of windows, across from the showers.

She opened the door, finding just about all of their friends already there, sneakily drinking out of mugs, cups and water bottles.

Reid was a zombie, wearing tattered, bloody clothes and a full face of makeup that Emily assumed that Penelope did for him. Sitting next to his computer, queueing music for their pre, was Derek, dressed in a baseball jersey and hat, apparently as a baseball player. This was expected, he wasn’t big on Halloween. Hotch was… a devil? He wore all black and simply had devil horns on his head. Low commitment but the spirit was there.

Emily hoisted herself onto Derek’s bed and greeted her friends.

Spencer was sneaking up behind Derek, peeking his head over his shoulder. Derek, at that moment, seemed to be texting, squinting down at his phone.

“I’m going to eat you!” Spencer yelled into Derek’s ear, causing the larger man to jump to his feet, swatting at the boy in his fright.

Emily laughed at her friend’s distress. He really didn’t like Halloween that much.

“Are you ready for a spooktacular evening?” Spence asked, making his voice wobbly as he put on a dramatic effect. He shone an orange, pumpkin patterned flashlight under his chin.

“Of course,” Emily lisped, “In fact, I vant to drink your blood!”

She lunged forward, and Spencer hid from her behind Derek. It was silly but she could tell how much he liked Halloween, he had talked about it all week, and she couldn’t help but adopt a lispy vampire voice to go with her costume. Though the boy was only two year younger than them, his thin frame and wide eyed expression made him seem much younger.

“Your teeth are excellent,” Spencer pointed out, “Very realistic.”

“I don’t get the hype about Halloween,” Derek said, “Disguises? Pass. Horror movies? No thank you.”

“Booooooo,” Emily protested, “Don’t be a buzzkill, Morgan. Let us have a little fun.”

The door opened again, and Penelope, followed by JJ, joined them.

“Is my statuesque god of sculpted chocolate thunder being lame again?”

“He barely dressed up,” Emily complained.

“Neither did Hotch!” Derek said, gesturing to Hotch’s devil horns.

“Hey, at least I bought these at the party store,” Hotch said, “I’m sure both of those are items from your own closet.”

Derek did not confirm or deny this. Emily knew he wore the same get up last year.

“So when should we be there?” JJ asked.

She was dressed as a witch, with an oversized pointy hat perched on top of her head, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders in perfect curls. She wore a purple dress and tall boots to go with her witch look. She and Penelope joined Spencer on the floor, sitting with their backs to Derek’s closet and cracking open a beer for JJ and a fruity cooler for Penelope.

With large wings, glittery make up and an adorable skirt, Penelope was clearly dressed up as a fairy, which was entirely apropos to who she was as a person. In fact, it was not entirely dissimilar from her normal outfits.

“Rossi said to come by eight,” Hotch said, “So in party talk he means nine-thirty earliest.”

“It’s, what?” Derek checked the time on his laptop, “Eight fifteen now, so we can pre here for an hour or so then start walking over.”

“Yeah,” Hotch said, “His house is just off campus.”

“The weather is crazy out,” Penelope said, looking out the window. The trees were swaying and the leaves were blowing everywhere.

“We could take a cab?” Emily offered, “I’d rather avoid getting leaves in my hair tonight.”

There were some nods, then they got back to preing, playing a few rounds of King’s Cup to ensure that all of them were sufficiently drunk before they left.

Morgan put on his new playlist, not “For The Boys (and emily)” this time, but one titled “Team Vibez” that Emily had seen him make during their lecture on Thursday. It had a lot of his normal songs, some top hits, but a few fun pop songs that Emily knew he added for Penelope, and even some classic rock for Hotch.

At this point, Emily was feeling buzzed. She had two cans discarded in the bin, both hosting lipstick prints from her dark red vampire lips.

JJ was currently chatting with Hotch about some student government scandal that was happening at the time. While politics gave Emily the heebie jeebies, she had reluctantly joined the Criminology Academic Society. It would give her a leg up on grad school applications, for one, and so far, even as a low-level member, she found she was actually making a difference for her classmates. This meant that Emily, despite her deepest urges to not touch political scandals with a ten foot pole, knew exactly what they were talking about.

As the two discussed the student politicians—there were some minor accusations of nepotism, embezzlement and coverups by the undergraduate executive—Emily looked at JJ. Her brows were furrowed in concentration and she was gesturing wildly with her hands as she talked about how badly they were handling their crisis communications.

Suddenly, interrupting this discussion, their phones blasted out a siren, followed by a chorus of the same robot voice announcing an emergency alert.

“National Weather Service: TORNADO WARNING in this area until 10:15PM EST,” the robot announced, “Take shelter now in a basement or an interior room on the lowest floor of a sturdy building.”

They looked at Derek’s three, large windows, and watched as large gusts of wind sent leaves barrelling down the street.

“If you are outdoors, in a mobile home, or in a vehicle, move to the closest substantial shelter and protect yourself from flying debris,” it continued. “Check media.”

Then, their phones went silent and Derek’s music continued unheeded.

“A tornado?!” Penelope said, “Here?”

The window rattled. Derek stood up and hesitantly moved away from it.

Penelope grabbed Derek’s computer, her hands moving in a flurry.

“Ok so,” she began, “from what I can gather from the good old Internet, we’re in a region of extreme winds and the meteorologists are thinking that funnel clouds and tornados are possible this evening.”

“So much for Halloween,” Spencer whined.

“Party is definitely off,” Hotch said. “We should probably take shelter. Is there a basement here?”

“There’s the laundry room?” Emily said.

Adrenaline started pulsing through her veins. She’d been through some severe weather before in her life but never a tornado, nor did she expect one. They were in the north east, nowhere near tornado Alley.

They all stood, making a move for the basement, when the lights flickered once, twice, then shut off entirely. Rain begin to fall down, hard onto the windows, and the boom of thunder filled their ears.

“Shit,” Emily said. “Anyone have a candle?”

---

Ten minutes later, the six of them were seated in a circle, on the strange carpeted floor of the laundry room, with the severe weather making the wind howl outside. Between JJ’s two candles, which were very against the rules, and Derek’s laptop screen, they had enough ambient light to see, but it was all very spooky.

The room smelled damp and earthy, with a strange combination of laundry soaps and dryer sheets. They had to move a spare sock to form a circle around the candle. It looked very much like a séance, so that did fit the Halloween spirit.

“Well,” Hotch said, “At least this is festive.”

Derek was still queuing his music, filling the silence with his DJ skills.

“Aren’t you worried about your battery life?” JJ asked, “What if the power doesn’t come on in the morning.”

“Then I have a great excuse not to finish my essay,” Derek said with a shrug.

“Fair point.”

“Anyways,” Derek continued, “No sense giving up on our party. We have drinks, we have music and thanks to JJ we have illegal candles.”

“They’re not illegal!” She protested, “Simply very against res rules! I like lighting a candle while I study.”

“It’s lucky that there was no one left in res because of Halloween,” Emily said. “Or we would've had a bunch of party crashers.”

“This is better,” Penelope, “Team bonding!”

“What should we play?” Hotch said, “we don’t really have much to work with.”

“This is all very high school,” Penelope said, “A couple of kids, in a basement, sitting in a circle on the floor…”

“With a tornado tearing through our city…” Emily quipped.

“Statistically speaking for this region we are more likely to experience dangerous winds rather than an actual tornado. Worst case is that fallen tree branches hit power lines, or fall onto houses or cars.”

“So you’re saying that we’re in the worst case scenario right now?” Hotch said.

“Yup.”

Hotch frowned.

“How about we play truth or dare?” Penelope changed the subject.

“I’m down,” Emily said, surprising herself. “If everyone else is.”

“I’ve never played!” Spencer said.

“Never?” JJ asked. “Not at any sleepovers.”

“I didn’t get invited to many sleepovers.”

“Neither did I,” Emily admitted, “Some parties I went to played it too.”

JJ looked at her, there was a brief look of sympathy, and then understanding on her face. Emily made note of that.

“I guess we’re playing,” Hotch murmured.

“Derek,” Penelope purred, “Mon cher, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he said defiantly, bracing himself with a swig of whatever was in his water bottle.

“Who is the prettiest fairy in the basement?”

“You, of course,” he replied with a wink.

“Gross!” Emily exclaimed, “Truth or dare is not for flirting. Hotch: truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he said with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Show us the… most embarrassing photo of you on your phone.”

He frowned.

“I don’t take many photos.”

“Try,” Emily urged with a laugh.

He fumbled in his pockets, grabbing his phone and scrolling through his photo album for a few minutes.

“It’s from high school,” Hotch said with a sigh. “I was in a play.”

He held up a photo of him in a pirates outfit, he looked smaller, younger than he did now. His hair was shaggy and his face rounder. He was pointing the sword at the camera.

“Who’s the girl?” JJ asked.

“My girlfriend Hayley,” Hotch said, “we’re long distance now. I joined the play to get close to her and it seems to have worked.”

“That’s not embarrassing,” Penelope said, “that’s adorable. Try again.”

“Oh I have one!” Emily said, pulling up her Snapchat memories. She had a photo of him conked out in a lecture last year. His mouth was open and his head conked back, fast asleep in a dimly lit lecture hall. Emily had taken a series of these photos before waking him up.

“Now that’s what i'm talking about,” Derek said.

“How can you fall asleep during lecture?” Spencer asked in horror.

Hotch shrugged.

“I was tired, we had a game the night before,” Hotch said. “Morgan: Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I don’t know any dares,” Hotch looked around for help.

“He could play the tinder game?” Emily said.

“What tinder game?”

“Oh that’s a good one,” JJ said, “Derek opens tinder and we randomly tell him which way to swipe and see who he matches with.”

Derek groaned. Opening the app and placing it down onto the carpet.

“Right!” JJ said to start.

A match.

“Left?” Hotch said, it came out more like a question.

“Right,” Emily said. Another match.

Left, right, left, right. New message from a recent match, left, right, right, right, right. Derek looked on in horror.

“Ok I think he’s had enough,” Emily said with a laugh.

“Derek it’s your turn,” Penelope said.

Derek sighs in relief.

“Uhhh, Pretty Boy,” he turned to Reid. Thinking for a moment. “Have you ever smoked before?”

“Smoked what? Cannabis, tobacco? Something else. Be specific.”

Emily’s jaw dropped.

“I dunno man,” Derek said, “I was talking about weed but go off.”

“I have.”

“How?” JJ said, “You’re like sixteen! I haven’t even smoked weed.”

“Me neither,” Penelope said, sounding outright disappointed.

“I believe it,” Hotch said. “He has a Juul.”

“Seventeen now,” Spencer said. “Kids in my first degree found it funny when I performed actions that they deemed mature for my young age.

“What?” Penelope said. “But you were sixteen last week.”

“It was my birthday on Wednesday,” he said.

“And we missed it?” JJ asked.

Emily decided not to inform them that her birthday had been a few weeks back as well.

“It’s no big deal,” Spencer said, “I don’t really do birthdays.”

“Well I do birthdays!” Penelope said, “and you’re getting one.”

Emily could see the gears turning in Penelope’s head.

“Wait you haven’t smoked weed?” Emily said. She didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but hell, it was college.

“I’ve never been offered,” Penelope said with a shrug.

“You have a Juul, Spence?” JJ said.

He shrugged.

“Anyways,” Derek said with a laugh. “Reid it’s your turn to ask.”

And the game continued roughly the same for a few more rounds, with some truths, some dares, a lot of drinking and a fair amount of laughter.

Emily learned that JJ likes some angry rock music when she’s upset, that Penelope has committed several federal crimes, that Reid used to coach basketball in high school, that Derek has been posing nude for art classes on campus for extra cash, and that Hotch has never successfully completed a word search in his life.

The dares were limited, because frankly they were basically hiding out in a basement during what might actually be a tornado. Emily was dared to do an impression of Hotch, which wasn’t good and involved a lot of eyebrows and frowning. After, JJ was forced to leave her snapchat at Garcia’s mercy for the entire night. Other dares involved dancing, attempting gymnastics, and seeing whether or not Reid fit into the dryer. He did.

The game finally had played out when it was Hotch’s turn again to ask.

“JJ, what’s your greatest fear?” Hotch asked.

“Mr. Serious over here,” Derek said with a whistle.

“Probably the woods,” JJ replied.

“Why?” Spencer asked, tilting his head.

JJ grabbed a candle, holding it under her chin much like Reid did earlier.

“I used to be a camp counselor, when I was a teenager. In the woods up in Vermont.”

She leaned forward. Emily didn’t know she worked at a camp. It made sense. She pictured her in a camp t-shirt making a bracelet. It suited her.

“I had the night shift. I tucked the girls in, turned off the lights. The typical drill. Everything seemed fine; all the kids were asleep. You know, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.”

Another dramatic pause, both Spencer and Derek had leaned in, invested in the story.

“Until I noticed there was some blood, on the hallway floor. So, I followed the blood trail out to the camp director’s cabin, walked up to his bed and he was just lying there, underneath his covers. Dead!”

Penelope gasped. The room was silent.

“Someone stabbed him. I ran out of there so fast, out the door, down the hall. I just remember it… being really dark. Once I got to the door, there was another counselor there. I guess she heard me scream.”

JJ set the candle down, looking at the flame flicker. This couldn’t be real, Emily thought, this had to be a joke.

“They caught the caretaker on his way to town, I guess he still had the knife on him.”

“Anyway, I guess that’s probably when I decided I didn’t like the woods.”

“You’re serious?!” Derek demanded.

“No!” JJ said with a laugh. “You bought that! I’m kidding!”

“So are you afraid of the woods?” Emily asked.

“Yeah,” JJ said, “They’re spooky I don’t know.”

They all laughed at that.

Emily glanced at her phone; they had been down here for almost two hours. According to Penelope’s intermittent checks on the status of the extreme weather, most of the city was experiencing black outs, but there was no sign of an actual tornado. They were still supposed to take shelter for the next hour or so, just in case.

In this time, Emily was close to five drinks in, with only one left in the basement. A growing pile of empties had built up around them, and Hotch had pulled out a small bottle of whiskey in addition to his beer, passing it around the circle. Having recently turned 17, the group had officially decided to give Spencer a beer, which he nursed slowly, wincing at the bitter taste.

“Emily,” JJ turned to her and looked mischievous. “Truth or dare?”

She felt her heart flutter.

“Truth.”

“Hmmm…” JJ said, “Where was the weirdest place you’ve ever had sex?”

Emily found herself blushing at the memory.

“Oh god,” Emily buried her face in her hands. “IHOP parking lot.”

“What?”

Emily nodded, downing the last of her beer.

“No further questions,” she proclaimed as she opened her next drink.

“I think that should conclude Truth or Dare,” Penelope said, “It’s time for another sleepover classic, since some of you are sleepover virgins.”

She grabbed Derek’s water bottle, plopping it down onto the carpet and spun it.

“Spin the bottle!”

Emily went pale. What was Penelope doing? She stared into her drunk, not daring to look at anyone else.

“That doesn’t seem very sanitary,” Spencer said.

“Boo,” Penelope, “You’re no fun. It’s a classic! And we’re all friends, it’ll be fun. Hotch you spin first.”

He looked horrified, but took the bottle. There was no getting in the way of Penelope Garcia’s will.

“The rules are simply: kiss or you have to finish your drink?,” Penelope said, “Got it?

Hotch nodded, he spun the bottle. It went around the circle, once, twice, three times, then landed clearly on himself.

“How do I kiss myself?” he said, deadpan.

“Drink!” Emily told him. He downed his last beer.

Derek spun next, rubbing his hands together nervously as it went around and around. It landed on Penelope.

“Come here, chocolate thunder!”

Derek took his baseball cap off, turning it backwards. Penelope pulled his shirt towards her, tugging on him as their lips met. They both closed their eyes, she could hear JJ giggle at the sight.

“Was that the only reason we’re playing this?” Spencer asked, “So that you could kiss Morgan?”

“Maybe?” Penelope, “What’s it to you, boy-genius!”

He put his hands up in surrender, it was his turn.

He spun the bottle awkwardly, so that it rocked back and forth in addition to spinning. It went around once before landing on JJ.

Emily wasn’t sure what to think about that. On one hand, he was just a kid and the kiss wouldn't be anything, but on the other hand, Emily was jealous that she didn’t get a kiss.

“Come here, Spence!” JJ said, making a grabbing motion at the boy and laughing.

He leaned in with his eyes closed, Emily wouldn’t be surprised if he told them he hadn’t done even this before. JJ put a hand on his face, turned it gently, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Derek clapped him on the back and made a comment about it being ‘pretty boy’s first kiss,’ and Reid simply sat and blushed as he busied himself with drinking some of his beer.

Emily’s turn. She tried not to cross her fingers and pray for JJ, but it happened anyways. It landed on Derek. Emily sighed dramatically.

“Ewwww,” Emily mock protested.

“Come on, princess,” Derek jeered, “You know you want some of this!”

He lifted his t-shirt up and rubbed his hands down his abs.

“Put that away sir!” she covered her eyes.

“Oh come here,” she said, leaning in. They kissed on the lips with a loud ‘mwah!’ noise.

“That was cute,” Hotch commented.

Emily fake gagged, while Morgan tried to wipe her red lipstick off him.

Last was JJ in the circle. She spun it casually. Emily tried to read her facial expression, wondering if JJ, too, wanted it to land on Emily.

See, Emily was starting to believe that JJ liked her back. She was single, and for all Emily knew, she was straight, but the more Emily got to know her, she got queer vibes. She played soccer! Her nails were short and-

Emily couldn’t think of any other things that moment, as she was currently freaking out about the spin the bottle situation that was presently unfolding.

The moment in the bathroom, Emily thought, that was something! The way she looked at Emily… she was sure that she felt JJ’s eyes on her linger.

The bottle landed on Emily. They had to kiss. It was part of the game.

Holy shit.

Penelope squealed and Emily could feel the entire room's eyes on her, except JJ whose eyes were on the ground.

Emily could hear her heartbeat. She desperately wanted to kiss JJ but did she want to under these circumstances? For a dare?

JJ looked at her. Blue eyes staring into brown. She could hear her blood rushing in her ears. She found herself leaning forward, only slightly. JJ did the same. Her lips parted, her eyes hungry.

Emily shifted forward, she sat with her legs tucked under her, bracing herself with her arms. JJ was cross legged, her arms free to grab at her face. JJ’s hands tugged her forward.

Their lips met.

It was uncertain, chaste, soft. Then, JJ’s hands pulled her closer. They were pressed together, heads tilting so that their noses didn’t bump.

Jennifer Jareau was kissing her. They were kissing!

Emily’s brain short circuited. JJ filled her senses; the blonde’s vanilla perfume and soft lips and the taste of alcohol on her tongue.

Oh god, her tongue.

Emily did not want it to end. Their mouths opened and their tongues slid against each other, feeling so perfect and sending Emily’s blood racing away from her face and noticeably south.

JJ was incredibly hot and Emily desperately wanted to do more than kiss her. Or kiss her like this forever. Her ams were caressing her cheek and tangled in Emily’s hair, pulling her closer.

The lights flickered on; they had power, again. JJ pulled away from her, sharply.

Emily sat back, sitting up straight. The room was luckily too distracted by the lights to notice how out of breath Emily was. Or that they probably shouldn’t have passionately made out on a dare.

JJ wouldn’t meet her eye, but Emily could see her own lipstick on the other girl’s lips. Emily blinked at the bright light, started by the sudden return of the electricity after she had become accustomed to the dim light of the candle.

“What impressive timing,” Spencer murmured.

Taking the lights as a good sign, Penelope checked on the emergency alert. It was over and they were safe to go back upstairs. She found out that a few downed trees were the cause of the outage and there was never an actual tornado. No one was hurt but there was a bit of property damage throughout the city.

Without the atmosphere of the candle light, and the likelihood of a RA doing a check of the building, they decided that that was the end of their party. They gathered up their empties, and blew out the candles.

As they finished up cleaning, all making sure not to leave any trace of their illicit affairs, Emily tried to quell her racing heart and blushing face, completely unable to look anyone in the eye.

The door opened, their RA was there. Erin Strauss. She was a hardass.

“What are you all doing down here?” she demanded.

They all stood, stock still, jaws dropped, smelling of alcohol and clutching clinking tote bags.

“Erin,” Emily said, trying to sound as sober as possible despite the five plus drinks in her system, “We were simply following the directions on the emergency alert.”

“Yes! It said to seek shelter from the storm and the basement seemed the best for that,” Penelope said.

“Uhuh,” Erin said, “What’s in the bag?”

The bag clinked.

“Oh just some garbage,” Emily said, lying through her teeth. “We had some snacks.”

“Sure,” Erin said, not believing them.

Emily tried not to sway, but did not feel steady on her feet. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or her recent kiss with JJ.

For a second, Emily was sure that their RA would bust their asses, but the girl simply sighed and told them to go to bed, muttering about how dealing with non-existent tornadoes wasn't part of her job.

The six of them scurried upstairs, all freaked out about their near-miss with a write-up.

Reid disappeared up to his room, then JJ and Penelope walked down the hall to their’s. Emily slipped into Derek’s avoiding Erin Strauss’ watchful eye, helping Derek steady a very drunk Hotch.

Hotch, who had probably had a little too much of that whiskey, stumbled into Derek’s room and decided to sleep on the floor. Emily placed a water bottle next to him, and placed him in recovery position, glad for the distraction from the blush that refused to leave her face or the lingering taste of JJ on her lips.

She walked slowly down the hall back to her own room, the events of that evening playing back in her mind. She threw herself onto her bed, dazed by her situation.

Emily fell asleep with vampire make up still on her face that night.

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds tv #jemily #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #gravelyhumerus cm college au #prentiss x jj #jemily cm #fanfiction #fanfic #criminal minds fic #my post #my writing #this is such a chaotic chapter!!!#enjoy!!!!

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ku-ro-kai · 4 years

Text

Darling, you’re different

Woke up in the middle of night thinking about dabi as a plug yesterday, wrote a fanfic about it during my entire day at school

edit made by me : )

Your usual plug wasn’t responding,using excuses to go pick up his kids or his baby mother was giving him a hard time. This was the time to be looking for a new plug for sure but how the fuck are you supposed to find one in the first place,camie was your best friend who smoked weed and was a blonde bimbo, she invited you over to smoke with her and offer you a new plug

“You made it! Come smoke a dub with me right quick then we’re gonna go meet him okay” she pulled you into her car

Camie was holding your hand walking through apartment complexs "your sure you know where this guy is?" " of course, he's been my plug for 3 years, he hot too" she stopped at a door and knocked "ever fucked him?" the door opened to a Raven haired man littered in tattoos, piercings ranging to black to silver, gray sweatpants hanging from his waist and a black T-shirt."You brought me a new client" she wasn't lying about him being hot.

His place was pretty tidy for a drug dealer "you can call me dabi by the way, camie gave you my number yet?" his eyes were like pools, you didn't have the guys to look him in the eyes "no" you said in a soft tone, he reached his hand "lemme see your phone for a second baby" you handed it to him "remember my apartment number is 306,don't forget because I'm only telling you once" "yes sir" he looked at you handing you back your phone "you don't have to hit me with that formal shit babe" "sorry,right" he chuckled walking to a hallway "camie come to the back with me" camie grabbed her bag walking to the back but she peaked her head out "I'll be right out, wait in the car for me".

"How long is it gonna take her to get some weed!" after that you heard a knock to the window "what the fuck!" dabi waved with a shit eating smile "fuck you!" ,you saw camie unlock the doors as she she was limping over "scoot over" dabi picked you by your waist and got in the passenger seat "dabi,what the hell are you doing" " what does it look like, gotta go to work" "yeah I see that but not with me on top of you, we might get pulled over" he slapped your shoulders pulling you back on his chest" not if you sit up like that, just enjoy the car ride for a few" you tried to get out of his arms but he was way stronger than you thought "come on camie back me up!" she put the keys in the ignition "he job is right around the corner (name) , trust me you'll be fine" you just relaxed in his hold. "Why are you so warm"

You shuffled neck to side of his shoulder "hot box" he didn't really smell like weed, more like ashes and feminine perfume "you smell weird" he bit your earlobe "pretty rude for someone who couldn't even look me in the eyes" you felt embarrassed, you just stayed quiet the entire time.

"See you next time,Blondie and you again?" you tried to ignore him but you spit out "(name)" he pulled your ear "how about sugar tits since you have-" "hell no!" camie leaned forward waving "bye dabi!" he stuck his tongue out, he had three piercings going in a straight line"you like what you see" you smiled rolling up your window "no".

"Hey you ever get the weed?" camie turned to you "of course but I didn't come for just the weed" she winked at you, you connected the dots in your head "you pay him with sex!?" "hear me out, free weed, good dick, hot boy blows my back out what's not to like?" you just rolled your eyes at her"let's just spark up before you go home"

-Next day-

Camie was too busy hungover from all the alcohol she decided to drink when she got home so you just did this on your own, can't be that hard can it?

____

You : hey

Dabi: what is it sugar tits

You : how much for a gram and stop calling me that

Dabi: A 20 and no ;)

You: fine,I'll be over

____

You knocked on the door twice, before you could pull out your money he dragged you inside "the hell?" catching yourself from stumbling over the mat "I was in the middle of rolling up" he was naked and wet, you could see his tattoos covered in certain areas,his stomach,his v-line,even his legs, only thing covering him was a black towel "put some clothes on first" "last time I checked it's my house so walking around naked shouldn't be your little concern babe" you were always annoyed by this asshole, how can camie do it. You looked in your bag twice, still couldn't see it, dumped out all belongings, nowhere to be found "where's the money?" dabi spoke walking in with some jeans on but still shirtless also he was holding a plastic wrap bag of weed, you let out a soft breath of air "I lost my wallet" he just stared at with bored eyes before busting out laughing "your being dead serious aren't you!" he rubbed his hand through his hair "look I'm sorry for wasting your time dabi, can I just pay you back next time " he shook his head throwing you the bag of weed "this is on the house except for one favor" "I'm not fucking you" the expression painted on your face let you knew exactly what he wanted "damn your good at reading people or what" "camie told me she pays you with sex so she can get free weed, don't lie either she was limping when she walked out your apartment" he smiled leaning against the wall next to the hallway "how do you expect to get it free then? Paying for it tomorrow isn't gonna cover how much I put in the bag for you sugar tits" she he was right this was way more than a gram" so what's it gonna be, you leaving empty handed or limping with weed in hand".

You heard a lighter flash on and off "you on a pill or something because I don't like pulling out" he was sitting on the couch smoking the blunt he just rolled a couple minutes ago "yeah,I have some at my house" he started unzipping his pants "come here" you walked off undressing yourself but keeping your shirt on "it's you hiding your tits for me" he pats his thigh signalling you to sit on his lap. "Open" "what?" "your mouth sugar tits" you slowly opened your mouth, he took two fingers shoving them down your throat "your not wet enough for me"he finally took his fingers out of your mouth "why do you say that.." "I'm to big and definitely haven't been stretched out, piercings might rip a new hole in you" piercings? He reached down taking off your panties in one tug,he turned you facing his wall with you against his back "what your last dude's dick size" that is really personal "A 6 I think" he opened your folds looking at some slickness beginning to gather "did he make you cum?" "no" he showed you a bright grin, placing a thumb on your clit, rubbing circles into it "a clit piercing would look good on you" he left a kiss on your cheek. "Your ready" dabi turned you back around facing him,"hold this for me baby" he pushed his blunt between your lips, he pulled his pants down by his ankles, there was ball piercings going down his length.

You held on to his shoulder for comfort, your walls weren't used to this feeling however dabi wasn't moving, too busy taking small puffs from his blunt with his head leaned back into the sofa "your a great cockwarmer sugar tits" he lifted his head back up "ever shotgun?" "No?" he grabbed you by your shirt pulling you into a kiss, you inhaled the smoke up your nostrils "your a good kisser" dabi gripped your ass, the friction of the piercings against your walls had you clenching down every thrust, dabi had no true goal besides aiming for that special spot, this position at any rate wasn't gonna him nowhere close though.In the meantime you were leaving small moans here and there, you didn't wanna give dabi that satisfaction of making you cum so easily, suddenly dabi got up off the couch immediately turning toward the couch, you could feel his cock poking your ass,eventually he pulled both your arms,sinking back into your velvet walls.

Dabi forced your face into the plushy part of the leather couch,although you promised yourself to contain your moans, dabi was ruthlessly rutting himself into you,he was progressively becoming more rough with his thrusts, your eyesight became dark blurs,you knew were close to cumming.

There was a sharp pain on your shoulder, you looked over to find dabi biting down on you, you felt his thumb rub against your clit,afterward that was the last push to send you overboard. Dabi came after you

You lazily slouched down,coming from your high, dabi left hickies on your neck to your shoulders before calling out "Wanna spark up before round 2"

Thank you for reading :) - I don't know what came over me for writing this to be honest . Though him progressively becoming an asshole was my main goal at some point. Follow me for more❤️

#dabi #dabi has a piercing down there #dabi has tattoos #dabi x reader #dabi x you

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imaginetonyandbucky · 4 years

Text

The Buy In

Chapter 4: 404 File Not Found

by @dracusfyre

Over the next few weeks Bucky did start to get hints of Stark’s criminal operations, at least the ones that were easy to see: the illegal gambling dens, knockoff designer bags and sunglasses, the chop shops that picked up and moved every two weeks. This was the stuff that they already knew about, though, and so far Bucky hadn’t been able to directly link Stark to any of it. Learning that Stark had an accountant was the biggest break he’d had so far, but despite his best efforts he hadn’t gotten even the hint of a name. He was so lost in thought trying to figure out a way to get deeper into Stark’s organization that he didn’t even notice that KT had stopped walking until he was already several steps away.

“What’s up?” he asked and followed KT’s gaze to the park bench where someone was sleeping, an overflowing shopping cart pulled up next to them.

“Stay here,” KT said, and went over to the bench. As Bucky watched, he squatted next to the bench. He must have said something because the person startled awake and sat up, scooting away from him. Now that the person was sitting up, Bucky could see that it was an older woman, gray hair waving in the wind. KT remained crouched, hands up, still talking. He was there long enough that Bucky looked around for a place to sit, but before he could find a seat KT handed her something and walked away. KT had his phone out and was talking on it by the time he got back to where Bucky was waiting, so Bucky walked in silence until KT hung up.

“Who was that?” he asked as KT put his phone away, looking over his shoulder at where the old woman was pushing her cart somewhere else.

“Social worker,” KT answered. “Boss keeps one on retainer.”

“Retainer?”

“Yeah. She works for the city, but the Boss pays her extra to handle the cases he sends her way. Anna there,” he said, gesturing towards the old woman, “refused to go to the shelter so I told Ms. Walker to have someone come talk to her, see if they can get her some help.” Bucky managed to not roll his eyes, though he wanted to, but he must have made some kind of noise because KT looked up at him and said, “What?”

“Nothing,” Bucky said, but KT put a hand on his arm and pulled him to a stop right there on the sidewalk.

“No, we’re going to talk about this. You’ve had an attitude whenever I talk about the Boss since you started, and I’m tired of it. Say what you want to say.”

“I just don’t get why you really believe all that stuff, about Tony Stark being in it for a little guy. ‘The mob boss with a heart of gold,’” Bucky said sarcastically. “I mean, a social worker? Really? Head start programs, scholarships, small business loans, the whole line about kicking out drug dealers - it’s all bullshit. He’s just got a hell of a PR team.”

“And there it is. I knew this was coming. You new guys are all the same.” KT gave him a scornful look. “Look, belief is for things that you don’t know are true, so no, I don’t believe all that stuff. I know it.” He took his jacket off and pulled up the sleeve on his left arm; the inside of his forearm and elbow were scarred with track marks. “My name wasn’t Kenton when I was born, it was Katie,” he said. “My parents let me stay until I was eighteen, then they kicked me out on my birthday. I spent two years on the streets, and I was one of the first people in that rehab center when it reopened. The sweet deal I mentioned that you get at the 90 day mark? It's a rent-controlled apartment and a job. With benefits, no less. Haven’t been back on the bullshit since, and now the Boss is paying for me to get a degree in social work.”

Bucky was stunned. “That’s insane,” he said as KT put his jacket back on. “I don’t…people aren’t like that in real life.”

“Yeah, that’s what they say,” KT said with a snort, and turned to keep walking. “But I think that assholes want you to think that everyone is an asshole deep down; that way you don’t get mad at them for being assholes. Because if people knew that there were good guys, like really good guys like the Boss, then no one would put up with the assholes anymore. You get me?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said faintly. “It’s just…”

“I know. I had a hard time believing it, too. Kept waiting for the other shoe to fall, you know? Like, no one gives away this stuff for free. But then the Boss sat down with a bunch of us and explained the buy-in, and that’s what made me realize he was for real.”

“Is anyone ever going to explain what that means? The buy-in?”

“When you’re ready, the Boss will explain what it means.” As they walked, KT pointed out small things around the neighborhood that Bucky had noticed but not really paid much attention to: the walls covered with paint that Bucky had assumed was graffiti but was actually street art, commissioned from local high schoolers; sidewalks were power washed with no weeds in the cracks; the space between the sidewalk and the curb often had flowers rather than being a sad patch of dead dirt and litter. No broken windows, no broken street lights, playgrounds with new equipment. It wasn’t like it was suddenly a rich neighborhood, with boutique shops and craft breweries, but it was clean and safe and clearly cared for. Bucky went through the rest of the shift on autopilot, lost in thought.

That night, he couldn’t sleep for thinking about it, so finally he pulled out his computer. He hadn’t done demographic research like this since he’d studied sociology in college, but gradually the picture started to emerge. Census data, crime rates, education statistics, property values, employment rates – they all added up to a picture that was hard to argue with: there was a bubble of prosperity around the neighborhoods that Stark controlled, an effect that faded quickly beyond the de facto edge of his territory.

Bucky closed his laptop slowly and bit his lip. Some of the stuff he’d seen, like helping out the local businesses and the sex workers, could be explained as being good business sense. But for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why a mob boss would care about high school graduation rates and early childhood education. He exhaled and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes.

“A criminal philanthropist is still a criminal,” he said to his ceiling. “Right?”

***

As the weather grew cooler, Bucky realized had been working for Stark long enough to have developed something of a routine; he worked with KT during the week, but occasionally swapped out for one of Stark’s other patsani when KT was needed for something else, then on his days off he made his way to the library to make his report to his handlers. Despite what Stark had said about him being a cop when they first met, Stark seemed willing to let him stay on the streets; Bucky figured maybe it had been a test or his idea of a joke. But the sheer normalcy of the routine meant that, despite his best efforts, he had started to relax and let down his guard. He realized just how relaxed he had gotten when he showed up to meet KT for their daily rounds and Happy was there instead, leaning against one of Stark’s cars; his mind raced over the past few days as he felt a pulse of panic that he had screwed up somehow and his cover was blown. “What’s up, Happy?” Bucky said, steps slowing as his blood ran cold.

“New gig tonight,” he said, holding a car door open for Bucky. “You’re going to be the Boss’s bodyguard.” Bucky let out a silent breath and his shoulders relaxed as the spike of fear was replaced by a quick thrill of excitement. This was the opportunity he'd been looking for.

He shrugged carelessly as he got in the car. “Anything I should know?”

“Boss will tell you what you need to know.”

Happy took him back to the garage where he’d met Stark the first time, only this time instead of the grungy mechanic, Stark looked like the Tony Stark, the capital M Mechanic that Bucky had expected to see then. He was wearing a tailored Tom Ford three piece suit, charcoal grey over a crimson collared shirt, and his jaw was clean shaven except for his trademark Van Dyke beard. He was talking to a Black man with a military bearing, but when he saw them come in he gave them a blinding smile that made Bucky’s heart skip a beat. While Bucky tried to process that unexpected development Tony pushed his glasses to the top of his head and studied Bucky with eyes that were sparkling with humor, like he'd just heard a joke he was eager to share.

“Hey, copper,” he said as Bucky approached. “New job for you. I’ve got a black tie event to go to and I need someone to watch my back, so you’re going to be my plus one.”

"Not a cop," Bucky said automatically, then he heard the rest of Stark's sentence. “Wait, plus one? I’m your date?” he said before he could stop himself.

That surprised a laugh out of Stark. The curl of his smile got sultry and intimate, and he stepped closer to Bucky, who could only stare and swallow thickly, frozen in place. “Do you want to be, Blue Eyes?” he murmured, and Bucky got goosebumps as his voice got deep and smooth. The humor in Stark's eyes turned into flicker of interest as the moment stretched like hot taffy and a denial failed to manifest. Bucky bit his lip as Stark swayed closer, and his breath stalled in his lungs Stark’s gaze flicked down to his mouth and then back up. This close, he could tell that Stark was a few inches shorter than him; if he tilted his head down and Stark tilted his head up, they could be-

“Tony,” Stark’s friend said quellingly, breaking the tension. “Stop teasing the poor man.”

Stark inhaled sharply, as if he’d forgotten they weren’t alone, and took a step back. The glasses came back down over his eyes, and by the time he turned to face his friend, the laughing smile was back in place. “You should have seen his face, Rhodey,” he said, hands in his pockets as he strolled away. “I’ve never seen a person’s brain blue screen so thoroughly before. No, Blue Eyes, you’re not my date, you’re my bodyguard.”

Bucky blew out a breath, feeling shaky for some reason, and rewound the conversation. “Black tie event, you said?” Bucky looked down at his outfit, jeans and a Henley shirt, with his old military issue boots and a jean jacket.

Tony tilted his head towards the back of the garage, not meeting his eyes. “I got your fancy duds in the bathroom back there. And a razor, though I dig the manly stubble.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Rhodey said as Blue Eyes closed the door to the bathroom to get changed.

“Of course,” Tony said, keeping his voice light despite the fact that his nerves were still vibrating like a plucked string. “First of all, it’s objectively hilarious and you know it. Second, photos from this event are going to be all over the internet and I don’t want you or Happy to get that kind of press.” He looked over to see that Rhodey was watching him skeptically. “What?”

“Don’t sleep with the undercover cop.”

“I won’t.”

“Uh huh.” Somehow Rhodey’s skeptical face got more skeptical. “I saw that moment. You guys had a moment.”

“I’m not going to sleep with the undercover cop,” Tony repeated dutifully, wishing Rhodey would drop it. Because there had been a moment, a breathtakingly arousing moment that had felt as fragile as spun glass and as powerful as a hurricane; at any other time with any other person Tony would have chased that moment, that feeling, but the reminder that Blue Eyes was a cop had soured it. Now Tony wished he had a drink to wash the taste of want from his mouth. “Is Happy bringing the car around?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

The pause before Rhodey answered made it clear that he knew what Tony was doing, but instead of calling him out on it he just said, “It’s already out front.”

After a few more minutes, Tony heard the doorknob to the bathroom turning and consciously plastered an easygoing look on his face as Blue Eyes came out. It was good that Tony had a legendary poker face, because seeing Blue Eyes in a fitted suit, clean-shaven with his slightly long hair brushed back from his face, would have broken a lesser bisexual. Shaving made him look ten years younger and drew attention to his full mouth, which was currently frowning in concentration as he tried to fasten his cufflinks one-handed. A rare sense of self-preservation kept Tony from offering to help; he stuffed his hands in his pockets against the urge to reach out and run his fingers along the sharp, smooth line of Blue Eyes’ jaw.

Rhodey must have seen something in Tony’s face or posture that gave away his thoughts, because he said, “Don’t sleep with-“

“Enough, Rhodey,” Tony said under his breath. “Ready, Blue Eyes?” he said more loudly, gesturing towards the door where Happy was waiting. Blue Eyes nodded and followed him, climbing into the front seat next to Happy while Tony sat in the back.

“So where are we going?” Blue Eyes asked, turning around in the seat to look at Tony.

The reminder immediately cheered Tony up. “The Policeman’s Ball,” he said with relish, and got to see Blue Eyes’ brain 404 error for the second time that night.

#tony stark #bucky barnes #tony x bucky #winteriron #no powers au

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taegis-gf · 5 years

Text

Forbidden - Part 1

Dealer!yoongi x Reader

Warnings ➜ phone sex, sexting, heavy drug use, alcohol use

Summary ➜ You never meant to lock eyes with the beautiful stranger at Namjoon’s house party, you also didn’t mean to completely fall for him, knowing exactly how dangerous it was.

Word Count ➜ 9.3K

NB: if drug-taking in fics isn’t for you/or makes you uncomfortable, also reader is literally getting with a drug dealer so if any of this isn't for you - please don’t read!

Part 2

As you tried to finish up your final assignment of the week, you sat on your dorm room bed, legs crossed in front of your laptop. You were almost there just a few more paragraphs to go.

As you finished writing the last sentence your phone began to buzz, turning it round to see who it was you read the name with a small smile, tapping your finger on the screen to answer.

“Hey! You ready to party?” Jungkook’s loud voice yelled down the phone to you.

You rolled your eyes at his excited tone, the youngest out of all you was always down for a party, and to his own credit, he definitely knew how to do it right.

“Yeah, whose house is it at this time?” You asked.

“Namjoon’s house, you know he has that huge ass mansion and his parents are away on some business trip so it’s gonna be a fucking good night.” You could practically hear him shaking with his excitement over the phone.

“Sweet, did anyone get any pick-me-ups?” You asked, closing your laptop and stretching your legs out.

“I didn’t ask but I’m sure someone has something.” He replied. “So be there in an hour and let's live it up.” And with that, he hung up. No further information or even a goodbye, but that was Jungkook for you.

“Crazy bastard.” You mumbled under your breath before going to get showered and ready.

As you pulled up in your taxi to Namjoon’s house you could hear the music blaring from inside the car, you paid and thanked the driver before walking up to the doorstep. You had dressed up a little tonight, rocking a black skirt with black ankle boots and a jumper to keep it a little more casual, however you were showing a lot of leg, which wasn’t usually your style, but you had thought to change things up a little couldn’t hurt. As you pulled down on the handle you weren’t surprised the door was unlocked, stepping in to be hit with the smells of smoke, weed and alcohol you were a little taken aback not expecting the party to be in such full swing already.

You could never quite believe how big Namjoon’s home was when you walked into it, it was huge with 4 floors and about 10 bathrooms, you had been here countless of times but every time it still shocked you, he wasn’t even the richest out of your small group of friends which was the even more surprising part, you knew Jin’s parents were just as well off and when you went to his house you really couldn’t believe who you were friends with, having lived not the most privileged life. However, the rest of them were not as rich, still rich by your standards but definitely not to this extent which had put you at ease when you were just beginning to know them.

Them. The 6 best friends you could have asked for, knowing them from childhood you had grown up with them and you were still as inseparable as the beginning.

You walked down the long hallway and saw a few people loitering on the grand staircase but you knew where to find your friends. As you went into the kitchen there they were, sitting at the table which could seat about 20 people, but it was just the 6 of them, sitting around with their drinks in their hands.

Taehyung was the first one to spot you and he gave you a small cheer

“Look who it is! I saved you a seat.” He said, patting his thigh.

You rolled your eyes, pulling up a chair beside Jin to see him lining himself up a line of something white.

“Is that coke? Are you going to share?” You asked nudging him slightly.

“No fucking way, this is the last of it, ask someone else.” He said.

You looked around the table to see them all looking at Jin.

“Jin what the fuck man, we always count on you to have shit, what do you mean that’s the last of it?” Jimin asked from across the table.

Jin looked up from intently splitting the powder into 2 thin lines his brows creased.

“You mean none of you have anything on you?” He said looking around at everyone as they all shook their heads.

“Hoseok I thought you got coke from that new dealer you met at that party?” Jin asked.

“Nah man turned out his product’s dodgy as fuck, I only trust the stuff you get and since you won't give us your dealer's name…”

Jin let out a long sigh.

“Fine fine, I’ll call my dealer to see if he can get me anything in the next hour if not, looks like we’ll be snorting alcohol tonight.” He said with a small chuckle.

“Oh fuck that, he better hook you up, this needs to be a great night.” Jungkook chimed in.

“You can have a good night without it you know.” You shot back.

“Yeah I don’t want a good night, I want a great night, call him Jin.”

Jin took a crisp 20 out of his pocket and began rolling it up.

“Jin! Please, man, I’m begging you.” Jungkook said again after receiving no response.

Jin put his face to the table running the makeshift tube up the line snorting it all at once with one huge sniff and he sat back one holding his other nostril taking a few more heavy sniffs and wiping at his nose.

“Okay fine.” He said breaking out a small smile.

You laughed so hard tears formed, there was something so darkly comical about the event that had just unfolded you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Since you’re the only one that finds me funny around here Y/N you can have the other line.” He said passing it over to you.

You looked at him a little in disbelief, “Really? Fuck, thanks Jin.” You said before sniffing up the line in one swift movement.

You immediately felt the small rush to your head and broke into a small smile.

“Jin! Come on man this isn’t fair! You’re already having a good night and I’m not.”

Jungkook complained again and you smiled a little at his childish behaviour.

“I’m going I’m going. Let me give him a call.” Jin said pushing his chair back and standing up.

Before leaving the room Jin walked over to Jungkook, standing in front of him he stuck his palm out.

Jungkook looked at him confused.

“You going to pay for your share?” He asked, sounding serious.

Jungkook looked at him in disbelief, “What about everyone else?!” He asked, his voice rising in pitch. Everyone stayed silent, trying not to burst into laughter.

“I’ve got everyone else covered I just want your share.” He said.

Jungkook looked well…distressed for lack of a better word, reaching into his pocket he pulled out a crumpled 10, which Jin plucked out of his hands.

“Thanks man.” Jin said, a small smirk on his face before leaving the room.

Everyone laughed loudly, tears falling.

When Jin had returned to the room he gave everyone the thumbs up letting them know his dealer was on his way and would get him sorted in about an hour.

“Jin man you have to give me your dealers number he sounds like an angel sent from heaven,” Hoseok said.

“A little coke angel.” Namjoon chimed in, which gave everyone at the table a small chuckle.

“No way I already told you all. None of you are getting his name or number, you’re all losers and he won’t want to deal with me if I introduce you to him.”

You knew you should have been offended but honestly, you kind of knew what Jin was saying, he had always been the chilled, cooler one out of the 7 of you, people trusted and respected him because he just radiated that sort of aura, not to mention he was a little older than the rest of you.

Funnily enough, no one argued back, Hoseok just gave a little sigh of defeat and went back to his beer.

As the night really began you were definitely having fun, the coke had really kicked in and you began drinking beer to add to your buzz.

You soon enough found yourself in the huge living room, which was insanely crowded, the music was the loudest in here and before you knew it you were up dancing in the middle of the room, which had kind of become a makeshift dance floor for the night.

As you got up and began dancing with a few girls you knew, you spotted someone sitting on the edge of the couch who you had never seen before. He wasn’t looking in your direction but the pull you felt looking at him was indescribable. You had never seen someone so beautiful. You really studied him for a moment but you soon realised you didn’t know who he was, which was unusual for you considering you knew or had a least seen most of the people in here at least once before. Just before you went to focus your attention back to the girls - feeling a little stalker-ish for staring – he looked at you, scanning the room he locked eyes with you and you immediately glanced away, mentally cursing yourself out for staring.

As you focused your attention back on dancing you couldn’t help the heat that spread across your cheeks, you still felt like his eyes were burning into you and that was all you could think about.

That was when you felt a pair of hands snake around your waist, you immediately turned only to be faced with Taehyung, he always got touchy with you when the both of you were drunk, and to be frank you behaved the exact same way.

“Hey, sexy you come here often?” He asked with a small wink.

“Hm, sometimes, what about you?” You said sliding your hands up around his neck feeling a little flirtier than usual, maybe it was the thought of the handsome stranger watching you.

Taehyung didn’t even need to reply, sliding his hands down and resting them at your hips and you began swaying back and forth with him.

After dancing for a while your mind went back to the guy you had saw and you wondered if he was still there, you glanced over to where he has been sitting only to see the space now empty.

“I’m gonna go pee.” You half yelled into Taehyung’s ear before manoeuvring through Namjoon’s large house.

When you finally reached the closest bathroom it was locked, typical. By the time you reached the 6th bathroom, you knocked on the door only to be greeted with silence. As you turned to go to the next you one you heard the door opening and turned back around, thankful you could finally pee.

You turned ready to thank whoever it was only to be stunned into silence to see it was the guy from earlier. You felt frozen in place, looking at him up close was a completely different experience; he really was as beautiful as you had first thought.

He was looking at you with such a cool calm demeanour you almost felt embarrassed about your thoughts.

“Sorry I just needed to use the bathroom.” You said almost choking on your own words. He gave you a small nod and stepped to the side. You walked passed him to go into the bathroom and as you turned to close the door he was already walking back down the stairs.

Something in you wanted to call out to him and something in you did call out to him, you realised you didn’t know if he was staying or going and this could be only your chance.

“Sorry, excuse me! Do I know you from somewhere?” You asked.

He stopped mid-step in the middle of the staircase.

He turned to look at you. “No, we’ve never met before, believe me, I’d remember.” The line itself was cheesy but he said in such a way you could have swooned.

“I’m Y/N- Wait actually can we do this after I pee? Wait there one second.” With that you closed the door, you were a little too drunk to even feel shame at this point so after peeing the fastest you could and washing your hands, you got out of the bathroom in record time. When you opened the door you heart dropped a little that he wasn’t there anymore but as you approached the stairs you saw him standing at the bottom of the staircase talking to none other than Jin.

“Hey...” You said cautiously as you approached them both.

Both of them turned to look at you and you stopped short of the bottom step, not really sure what you were interrupting.

“Y/N, hey, I’m just talking to Yoongi here, I’ll meet you downstairs.” Ah, so the mystery man’s name was Yoongi but Jin was being curt with you and to be honest it irked you a little bit.

“Actually I’ve already met Y/N, we just had a nice chat.” He said a small smile on his face.

Jin’s eyes widened a little which confused you; you had chatted up plenty of guys at parties before what was different about this one?

Then it hit you.

This was Jin’s dealer.

You suddenly felt a little stupid, but were dealers supposed to be this attractive? You always pictured them as sketchy older men who always looked twitchy.

Jin was glaring at you and you knew exactly what he was getting at, he did not want you fucking around with his dealer.

You let out a small sigh before glancing over at Yoongi.

“I guess…I’ll see you around?” You said, making it sound like more of a question.

“I’m sure Yoongi has better things to do than-”

“Actually,” Yoongi interrupted, “I was going to stay a little while if that’s okay Jin, I saw a few people I recognised earlier downstairs, would be nice to catch up.” He stated.

Jin cleared his throat a little, “Yeah no problem Yoongi, stay as long as you like and thanks again for coming on such short notice.”

You realised you had really overstayed your welcome in their conversation as you turned and began walked down the stairs.

“Y/N!” Jin called from above you. “Your ass is showing, pull your skirt down.”

You felt your cheeks burn as you immediately grabbed your skirt and tugged it down, at least you were wearing a sexy red thong, Jin was lucky for the show, you just prayed to all the god’s Yoongi hadn’t seen.

About an hour had passed and you were back in the full swing of dancing, Taehyung had his hands all over you again and you didn’t even care, you were so coked up it was fucking shameful.

“You know,” Taehyung was whispering in your ear, “me and you would be so fucking good together.”

You were smiling, eyes closed, still dancing up against him.

You and Taehyung had always had this strange attraction growing up, he always told you he thought you were beautiful and the fact he was offensively gorgeous didn’t help.

But you saw how he treated women – he would fuck them and never speak to them again, you told yourself that you weren’t going to be another one of his conquests.

However, that didn’t stop you and him from being make out buddies every now and again.

“Tae…” You whined as you felt his hands digging into your hips a little harder than usual, his actions were definitely getting to you more than they usually did and you could feel your whole body heat up.

He leaned in to kiss you and you immediately returned the kiss letting his tongue slide into your mouth, you began to run your hands through his offensively soft hair.

“Fuck, I want you so bad.” He said, his breathing heavy.

You wanted him too.

Admittedly it had been a long time from you had gotten laid and to say you were frustrated was an understatement. But it was a bad idea and you knew that no matter how drunk you got.

“Hm, you can’t have me Tae. You know that.” You said, smiling at him solemnly.

“Why is that beautiful? We’ve known each other forever, you could at least give me a little something, you know we’d be great together.” He replied, looking at you with that stupid smirk.

“Taehyung, I like making out with you but I’m never going to go farther than that, there is no together with you, you’re a classic fuck boy, we’d have sex and you’d never look at me again.” You said, sighing heavily.

There was a short time when you had been hopelessly in love with Taehyung, he was beautiful and you had been young and stupid.

When you saw the sort of person he’d became your romantic love for him had slowly died out, knowing you never wanted that for yourself.

“You really think I’d do that to you? You’re my best friend Y/N.” He said, pouting his big beautiful lips.

You let out a short laugh, “That makes it worse, Tae, just drop it. I’m gonna go get another drink.” And with that you walked away from his embrace, you knew by the time you’d even reach the kitchen he will have already found a new girl to dance with. You loved him but god was he a player.

You found yourself sitting at the ridiculously big dining table once again, beer cradled in one hand as you looked around your surroundings, most of your friends where elsewhere but you could see Jungkook chatting up some beautiful girl out of the corner of your eye, you were feeling a little down and you realised it was because your high was slowly beginning to wear off, you needed another little pick-me-up you decided as you stood up in search of Jin.

You searched the place for him finally seeing him sitting on the couch in living room number two, deep in talk with none other than Yoongi – god damnit, there was no way you could approach that situation and not embarrass yourself, but your low was coming on strong and you knew your night was only going to get worse.

“Hey guys…” you wavered, both heads turning to look directly at you, pulled from their conversation.

“Jin can I see you for a second?” You asked casually, pulling at a strand of your hair, you didn’t know what was making you jittery, the drugs in your system or Yoongi looking at you so intensely you felt your cheeks burning, you must’ve looked like a damn tomato.

“Hey Y/N!” Jin smiled at you widely, he must’ve been more gone than you were.

“Me and Yoongi were talking about music, you like music too don’t you?”

You let out a small laugh, “Yeah Jin…I think most of the population likes music.”

You heard Yoongi let out an airy laugh at your joke, although Jin just kept grinning up at you like he was making perfect sense.

“Okay then! So you talk to Yoongi while I go take a piss, perfect plan.”

Before you could even begin to protest Jin was already heading upstairs, so with nothing better to do and in your drunken state you decided to plant yourself beside Yoongi. You sat a little too close, as both your knees touched you sat forward, resting your chin on your hand.

“So I’m guessing you two were talking about…let me guess…music?”

Yoongi let out another small laugh, causing you to smile, you liked that sound a lot.

“Yeah… I was just telling Jin about how I like making music, producing ya know? I don’t think he understood a damn word I was saying tho, dudes so blitzed.”

It was your turn to laugh “I think everyone here is blitzed.”

“Yeah sometimes it’s hard being the only sober one at a party, but at least I can take videos of Jin if he decides to get shirtless and dance on the pool table again.”

You laughed loudly this time, “Fuck! Has he really done that before? Do you have pictures, I must’ve missed that one.”

“Sadly no, I didn’t take any I was too busy making sure he didn’t kill himself, I was just dropping something off to him, but no one was else was making sure he didn’t die, so I stuck around a bit.”

“Have you known him long? I can’t believe we’ve never met before.” You said, resting a hand on his knee.

You were being bold and forward and you knew that but you hoped he didn’t mind.

You couldn’t really tell however as he didn’t even react to your advances, simply responding to your question instead.

“A few years, yeah, you’ve probably never seen me, I don’t stick around, I’m usually working.”

“Ah.” You said knowingly, you didn’t know if it was awkward to bring up the fact that he dealt drugs but you also knew he had figured out by now you knew what his ‘work’ was.

Before you could say anything else Jin's voice cut through the room as he made his way over to you both, you jerked your hand away from Yoongi’s knee, knowing it would do nothing but bring you trouble if he saw.

“So, did you guys talk?” He asked planting himself down beside you, a smile still on his face.

“Yeah-listen Jin I gotta go,” Yoongi said, his eyebrows low as he looked intensely at his phone.

Jin began to pout, “Stay Yoon, it’s been so long since we’ve talked like this.”

Yoongi smiled big at him and your heart nearly beat out of your chest then and there.

“Yeah, it’s been good Jin, but I gotta bounce. I’ll see you next time, okay?” When he began to stand up, you found yourself standing with him.

“I can show you out if you want.” You said, nerves completely overtaking you. You can’t remember the last time you really had to work for a guy’s attention like this, you were used to drunken gropes and getting to the sex bit quick enough, but that was all meaningless, drunken fumbles and hungover regrets.

You wanted Yoongi in a completely different way, and you couldn’t just let him walk out the door.

Yoongi nodded, and you walked in front of him making your way to the front door.

You stopped when you reached it, turning to face him, he stopped as well, looking at you, wondering why you stopped.

“I wanna see you again.” You said boldly, this wasn’t you, but you decided it was going to be your only chance.

Yoongi’s eyes widened in surprise at your confession and you shyly looked down at the ground, unable to meet his stare.

When you looked back up he was smirking, but it wasn’t smug.

“I’m really glad you said that.” He began “But wasn’t that guy you were dancing with your boyfriend?” He asked.

It was your turn to be surprised as you took a moment.

“Oh! You mean Taehyung? No, no he isn’t my boyfriend, he’s just a friend, he gets handsy when he’s drunk, to be honest, so do I.”

“I noticed.” Yoongi shot back.

You let out a nervous giggle.

Yoongi was smiling fondly but his facial expression quickly turned hard and cold.

“I’m sorry, I’m being too forward, I just- I-” You began, but you were interrupted.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, it’s not you, I’ve enjoyed meeting you, a lot actually, but I’m not in the habit of getting to know women like you. I don’t live the safest of lives and I don’t like to drag anyone into it, I’m sorry…”

And with that, he walked out the front door leaving you feeling cold and rejected.

As you walked back in you took a seat on the couch once again beside a very drunk Jin.

“You know,” he began holding up a single finger. “Yoongi is such a great guy…I have known him for so long.” He slurred.

“That’s nice Jin.” You said, not really wanting to talk anymore about Yoongi.

“He just got dealt a shitty hand you know, I doubt he ever wanted to be put in this situation, but if my dad was the head of some terrifying gang slash organisation slash whatever the fuck it is, I would put my head down and do whatever he asked as well.”

“Wait, what?” You asked, curiosity peaking.

“Yeah, I knew him from a class we took together a few years back, we were friends then, but he left college before the first year was out, I guess his dad didn’t approve, wanted him to stay in the family business, ya know? Such a bad situation for someone so intelligent, he had his whole life ahead of him…” He continued.

“You know he’s never even tried any drugs before? I guess when you grow up around that, you see enough to be put off…my heart aches for him sometimes…”

Jin was still talking but you could only hear bits and pieces, completely lost in your own thoughts.

The rest of the night was awful, you’d ended up leaving early, almost sober and mostly sad. You couldn’t believe what Jin had told you.

You still were in shock at Yoongi’s words to you as well, maybe it was just genuine concern on his end…

But the point had been you wanted to get to know him.

You tucked yourself in, not even bothering to remove anything but your shoes and fell into a deep but restless sleep.

Two weeks had passed since that party and for the most part, Yoongi was entirely out of your mind, I mean, after all, you had barely known the guy and you weren’t gonna let one silly drunken moment bring you down.

It was Jin’s party that was on your mind for tonight. Your rich friends usually had some crazy party once a week but you only attended when you could, and tonight it was gonna be a good one.

“So Jin do you want me to come over early with some booze? I can help set up.” You said over the phone to your friend.

“Yes, actually I would really appreciate that Y/N, it’s not like any of the other guys offer to help.” Jin said with a resigned sigh.

You let out a small laugh – “Cmon Jin, you’ve met them all, when would they ever offer to help for anything, lazy bastards.”

It was Jin’s turn to laugh this time, “You’re right I don’t know why I expect any more from them, I may have grown up rich Y/N but my parent’s made sure I knew how to respect those around me.”

You were nodding even though Jin couldn’t see, but he definitely was the most humble out of all the guys, he had been raised right.

“Shall we say seven? The party doesn’t kick off till nine but you can come help me set up and we can drink in peace for a bit before the madness ensues.

You chuckled, “Sure thing Jinnie! See you later!”

You could almost hear the eye roll over the phone before Jin hung up.

As you let yourself in – Jin had told you to do so – you took a second to appreciate the modern beauty of the house Jin lived in, it looked so bold and beautiful…very much like himself.

You tucked the bottle of vodka under your arm as you carried a bag of snacks in the other, you knew Jin didn’t need this, he was always more than prepared but you always felt strange showing up to his house empty-handed, maybe it was the fact he had done so much for you.

“Honey I’m home!” You yelled from the hallway hoping Jin would reply and give an indication of where he was in this gigantic house.

You didn’t get a reply. You furrowed your eyebrows in frustration heading for the kitchen so you could at least put the alcohol and snacks down.

However, as you neared the entrance for the kitchen the bag that was holding the snacks ripped, spilling all over the floor you groaned in frustration setting the bottle of vodka down, you got down on your knees and reminded yourself to stop asking for paper bags and just bring a tote with you.

“Fuck,” Was all you breathed out and you began picking things up.

As you started, a pair of hands joined the mission and you sighed in relief.

“I was wondering when you were gonna show your face, were you in there the whole time? You could have answered when I called, also-“ You stopped dead in your tracks as you looked up and realised it was not Jin’s eyes you were looking into.

They were Yoongi’s.

“Uh- oh my god, you don’t have to help I’m sorry, I’m an idiot I thought you were Jin, you know, I was thinking those were so not his hands but I carried on anyway I’m sorry again.” You were speaking from a place of sheer panic, you had no idea how to handle being this close to Yoongi, especially sober.

Looking at him was an entirely new experience like you were seeing him for the first time all over again.

You were still scooping up the bags of snacks whilst Yoongi helped and as you stood up he stood up with you, his arms full now.

“I’m sorry-“

“You said that already, it’s fine, I’m not just gonna watch you struggle now am I?” He said with a slightest of smirks on his face. God, he really was beautiful.

As you both entered the kitchen you dumped the snacks in the corner of the counter. Of course Jin had an array of more expensive-looking stuff already laid out, but it kept your mind at ease knowing you hadn’t shown up empty-handed.

“Thank you for that.” You said, afraid to meet his gaze. “Why are you h-“ You cut yourself off, embarrassed you had even begun to ask that question, you knew why he was here.

“I mean- where’s Jin? Did he leave you here all alone?” You asked.

“He just had to run upstairs for a second, he should be down any minute,” Yoongi replied and you realised as he spoke he was checking you out.

His eyes skimmed over your body, quick enough that he wasn’t lingering but slow enough for you to notice.

You weren’t wearing anything fancy although you had to admit you had chosen these jeans because you loved the way they hugged your curves and your camisole had some cleavage on display.. but nothing major.

“Ah okay…well… I guess I’ll get started in the living room. Jin likes me to set up the playlists and everything, he says he doesn’t like the responsibility of being judged by the party music being bad.” You said with a small laugh.

Yoongi just nodded, looking at you with that intense stare. The atmosphere tense, you wanted any excuse to leave the kitchen.

“Maybe one day we can play some of yours!” You said, remembering the small conversation you had with him.

To your surprise, Yoongi’s eyes widened.

“You remember I said that?”

You nodded, “Of course, I know I wasn’t exactly a model for sobriety, but I wasn’t that bad!”

Then there it was. A smile. A genuine one with even a small laugh.

“Well, I guess you weren’t as bad as Jin.”

Like a scene from a movie, Jin walked into the kitchen right on cue,

“When was I bad? Why are you two talking about me? Also last question, why was there a bottle of vodka on the floor?” Jin asked holding up the forgotten vodka bottle you had set down when the snacks had spilt.

You merely laughed as you walked on past him, grabbing the bottle from his hands and headed for the living room.

As you played about with the sound system you had regrettably took a few large swigs from the bottle of vodka, trying anything to ease the anxiety you got around Yoongi. It wasn’t a bad anxiety per se, he just made you feel things you weren’t used to, which in turn made you queasy. So you figured getting a little buzzed would help take the edge off. Admittedly drinking vodka raw wasn’t your style, but you didn’t want to interrupt whatever they had to talk about, so here you were.

As you fiddled about with the bass and everything – admittedly you hadn’t one clue what you were doing but it was killing time – you took out your phone to open up your trusty party playlist, always a winner in your book when it came to house parties when you were suddenly interrupted by Jin’s voice.

You nearly jumped out your skin at how close he was.

“Jesus christ Jin! You could've just called me from a distance there was no need to give me a heart attack!” You said, a little on edge. You knew why you were though.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, by any chance…have you got any cash on you?” Jin asked, “I’ve forgotten to take some out of the ATM.”

You nodded, “Yeah I have like 40 on me, is that enough?”

Jin chuckled, then grew serious. “Of course not, look I’m going to have to drive to the nearest ATM, will you keep Yoongi company, I think he likes you and I trust you to be the only one who won’t act strange around him.”

God if only Jin knew what he was saying.

You gulped and looked up at him “Of course, but don’t be long.”

Jin simply nodded already making it for the front door.

“I should be back in 10!” He shouted from the hallway, not sure who to, maybe the both of you.

You took another big gulp of the vodka scrunching your face up at the way it burned down your throat.

As you decided the best thing was to turn back to the sound system you heard Yoongi clear his throat, letting you know he had come into the living room.

“Hi, sorry…I’m trying to figure this stupid thing out, I act like I know what I’m doing, but in reality, I’m clueless.” You said with a sheepish smile and burning cheeks.

Yoongi looked at you crouched on the floor and returned the smile, “Well maybe I can help…this is probably all I know how to do.”

He crouched down beside you and you felt the heat radiate off him with how close he was, sides almost touching he reached his hands out to the many buttons on the system. He definitely seemed to know what he was doing, you wondered if his fingers were as skilled in other areas…

You shook the idea from your mind trying not to look as flustered as you felt.

“I think that should do it…” Yoongi said, standing up. You stood up with him looking up at him. He wasn’t by any means tall, but compared to you he still had a few good inches.

“Are you gonna play something?” He asked.

You nodded, pulling out your phone and connecting it up to the speaker.

You hit shuffle on your playlist and nodded enthusiastically when the song came out sounding great just the right amount of bass and whatever else it was called.

“Thank you this sounds amazing, Jin will be impressed, as I am going to take sole credit for this.”

Yoongi pouted and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

“What exactly do I get then?” He asked.

“Anything you want.” You stated, boldly. You knew the vodka was beginning to hit as only the drunker side of you would say something like that.

Yoongi’s entire demeanour darkened at your words, he was 100% picking up what you were putting down, he was looking at you like a damn meal and you honestly loved it.

He shifted back to his neutral expression clearly shaking himself out of whatever daze he had been.

“Maybe I’ll steal some snacks on my way out here.” He joked.

You couldn’t help but pout a little, slightly frustrated that he had changed the topic.

His words from the other night rang in your ears.

He said he didn’t like to drag anyone into his life, considering it was dangerous; what he did for a living.

You knew it was probably not the best thing in the world for you to want a drug dealer this bad, but he seriously held no qualities of one, he was just as normal as any other guy, well, except for the fact he was so hot he made your head spin.

But what if you didn’t really care about all that? Although in all honestly, it did scare you a little…but what if you wanted to risk getting to know him?

You were annoyed now, annoying yourself with your thoughts, your mood had soured fast.

“Yeah do whatever you want.” You said offhandedly, turning to walk back into the kitchen.

He was following you, you could hear him behind you, but you refused to turn around, it was hard acting like you weren’t bothered though, considering you were.

When you finally made it to the kitchen you kept your back to him, setting cups out and trying your hardest to make it look like you were busy.

You heard Yoongi sigh.

“Did I say something to hurt you?” He asked, but you could tell by his tone that he was on the defence as well.

“No.” You replied curtly, you knew what you were doing, you knew you were being a child but you couldn’t help yourself. You honestly embarrassed yourself trying to basically throw yourself at him but he shut you down every time.

You knew how to take a hint, you needed to leave whatever it was you two had alone, you didn’t want to do anything that would cause him to be uncomfortable, although he had definitely given you some hints that this wasn’t a one-sided thing.

“God, Jin’s taking a lot longer than he said he would, right?” He said.

You couldn’t see his face but you knew he was grabbing at anything to make the situation less tense.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be back soon though.” Was all you could say.

As if on cue once again, your phone pinged in your back pocket, you pulled it out and saw it was Jin texting you.

7:47PM

Jinnie: i am stuck in traffic, tell yoongi i am sorry, will hopefully be another 15mins! :P

You put your phone back in your pocket and looked up at Yoongi finally, he was rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the ground, clearly distracted.

“That was Jin,” Yoongi lifted his head. “He said he’s stuck in traffic, going to be another 15 minutes, can you wait that long?”

Yoongi took a second to think before nodding “Yeah I have time.”

You turned your back again, looking at how everything was set out you took another couple of minutes to reorganise and pour some more snacks out into bowls, you honestly didn’t know why Jin went through all this trouble but you weren’t gonna judge him.

As you went to start mixing a cocktail in a bowl, you heard a voice directly behind you.

“You need any help? I feel bad just sitting there.”

You jumped a little and when you spun around you couldn’t believe how close he was to you.

You were silent, just looking at him for a second and he seemed to be doing the same thing.

“I think I’m oka-“ And just like that he cut you off mid-sentence, only instead of using words, it was his lips on yours.

He pulled away after a quick kiss, trying to gauge your reaction, you searched for any hint of doubt on his face and you think he was doing the same, when you saw none you pulled him in again for a kiss once again.

You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

Yoongi obliged – pushing you a little until your back hit the kitchen counter, pinning you between it and him.

He was kissing you slowly, and it was setting your whole body on fire, he brought his hands to your hips and you took that your cue to slip your tongue inside his mouth, he lightly sucked on it.

You moaned into his mouth, loving every sensation he was giving you.

Yoongi moaned back into your mouth, pushing his body close to yours.

He finally pulled away to catch his breath and you did the same, your head was in the clouds, it had been so long since someone had kissed you like that.

Yoongi spoke first, “I’m sorry about that – I know what I said to you the other night, but you have no idea how crazy you’re driving me.”

“Hmm.” Was all you could say, too dazed to think of a proper reply.

You don’t know who started kissing who again, but this time there was no mercy. You kissed each other so fervently and you even let out a small squeal of laughter when Yoongi lifted you up so you were perched on the counter, he moved in between your legs and you boldly wrapped them around his waist, pulling his as close as you could.

“Fuck, I – jesus –” Yoongi muttered between kisses.

You shushed him, trying to encourage him to keep doing what he was doing.

You were both panting heavily, so hot and turned on it was sinful.

You had just begun kissing again, completely unaware of the passing of time, when the sound of the front door closing made you both jump.

Yoongi moved away from you and you jumped down from the counter, fixing your clothes and hair as quickly as you could, you prayed you didn’t look a hot mess as much as you felt it.

You looked over at Yoongi who had taken a seat at the kitchen island, you could see his chest still rising and falling and you couldn’t help but giggle a little.

He simply smirked at you and you really couldn’t keep it together as you heard Jin approaching you turned your back to try and make the cocktail you were about to start, you needed a distraction.

When Jin walked in, you heard Yoongi stand up.

“Hey sorry Yoongi, traffic was crazy.” Jin began.

“It’s fine man don’t worry about it, me and Y/N were just talking.” He said, as cool and as casual as if that what you both really had been doing.

You were pretty sure if you turned around your face was going to reveal everything Jin didn’t know.

You took a second to catch on what was going to happen and you made yourself scarce, running for the living room with a quick “Excuse me.”

As you sat on the sofa, you pulled out your phone to see you had a missed call for Taehyung, probably wanting to know when the best time was to show up.

You sent him a quick text instead of calling him back.

8:05PM

You: hey tae, party will probably start around 9ish? i think… i forgot to ask Jin actually x

You phoned pinged almost instantly

8:06PM

Taehyung aka sexy mf ;): okay i’ll leave in an hour then, see u soon ! x

You sighed a little, you kept forgetting to change Taehyung’s contact name, he had taken your phone and made the change when you were at a party with him, you had laughed about it, you never made any effort to change it either.

“Hey.” You suddenly heard from behind you, farther away this time, it had you standing up and spinning around.

Yoongi was standing in the doorway.

“Hey yourself. Please don’t tell me you’re leaving.” You said, walking closer to him.

If you had it your way, he would be fucking you on this sofa right now.

You playfully tugged at his belt buckle, trying to pull him into the living room.

“Come say bye.” You said, looking up at him, eyes full of lust.

You leaned in to kiss him and he returned it, but only for a few seconds.

You never took your hands off his belt, keeping him securely in place.

“Listen, I have to go. I can’t stay, I told Jin I’d let myself out.” He said.

You audibly whined you were so horny you could’ve cried.

“Fuck, please don’t make that sound…I don’t think I can drive with a hard-on.”

You stomach flipped and your core throbbed all at once.

So he was taking it …there.

“Well, I could always help you out in that department you know…” You trailed off.

Yoongi took a deep breath and closed his eyes, clearly trying to compose himself.

“God, you are making me crazy, you know that?” He asked, you knew he wasn’t really looking for an answer but you shook your head anyway, trying to play coy.

“What if Jin saw us like this? I’m pretty sure he would kill me and then kill you.”

You laughed at his statement.

“He wouldn’t kill me, he likes me too much.” You stated.

Yoongi scoffed a laugh.

“Okay that’s fair enough but I really do have to go, give me your number I’ll text you.” He said, taking his phone from his pocket.

You called out your number and he saved the contact.

You didn’t ask for his if he really wanted to text you he would.

You walked him to the front door.

“I guess we can talk later? About what it is we’re actually doing?” You asked, hopeful.

Yoongi nodded. “Of course. I’ll see you soon.”

And with that, he was gone.

***

A few hours had passed and the party was in full swing. You were nicely drunk and you were enjoying swaying back and forth as the music flooded your senses.

You had opted to take no heavy drugs, wanting to not be so blitzed incase Yoongi decided to text you before the night was out.

You were dancing when you felt a very familiar pair of hands snake around your waist.

“Has anyone ever told you how fucking great your ass looks in those jeans?” Taehyung whispered in your ear.

You shook your head no. “Well, I’m here to tell you, your ass looks fucking great in these jeans.”

As he started peppering kisses on your neck you pulled away from him.

“Not tonight Tae, I’m not in the mood.” You said you couldn’t, knowing you had only kissed Yoongi a few hours prior.

Taehyung raised his hands in defence, stepping back a little, one of his redeeming qualities – he actually listened.

“My bad, so who’s the guy?” He asked.

You made your way to the couch and he followed suit.

“What guy?” You asked.

“You never let me kiss you at parties if you have some guy on your mind, so who is he?” He asked again.

You shook your head, “There is no guy…” You knew you were a shitty liar, but what were you supposed to say?

Taehyung laughed. “Okay fine, if you don’t wanna talk about him yet I get it.”

You hit his shoulder playfully. “There is no guy jackass!”

“Okay, I believe you!” Taehyung said and if his tone of voice was anything to go by he definitely did not believe you.

You scoffed, “I am going to pee.”

“Okay, I am going to find a new dance partner.” And with that, you both went your separate ways.

As you made you way up the stairs and found a bathroom, as soon as you closed the door your level of drunk really hit you, what was it about bathrooms that did that?

Enjoying the quiet for a second you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and saw that you had a message from an unknown number.

You let out a small noise of excitement.

11:37PM

Unknown: hey guess who?

You quickly saved his contact.

11:52PM

You: heyyyyyyyyyyyy i knwo who u are ;)

You got a little excited as you saw that he was replying immediately.

11:53PM

Yoongi: hahaahahah how drunk are you exactly?

You: Come to jins party and see,, im not that dru nk

Yoongi: What exactly would happen if I were to come?

You: i cant even pretend to play coy,,, i would suck your dick and beg you to fuck me :)

You saw the dots rapidly disappearing and reappearing. You laughed out loud, he was clearly at a loss for words.

You wanted him to know you wanted him badly, you needed him to know.

11:56PM

Yoongi: fuckdkkck, that is so hot u are so hot, u know that whole time you had your back to me i was just satring at ur ass in those jeans,.,.,, also the night we first met.. ur skirt had rid up and you were wearing that red thong..,fuck i couldve ruined u then and there..

You paused, remembering what had happened, you thought only Jin had seen that, but knowing Yoongi had seen it riled you up so much you thought you were going to explode.

You: yoongi please come here i am so horny pleasseeeeeeeee

Yoongi: fucl

Yoongi: fukc i want too but i cant im working im sorry

You left the bathroom, walking up more stairs heading for Jin’s room, you wanted some peace and quiet… and somewhere more private to sext…

Jin’s room was super off-limits at his parties, but you knew he wouldn’t mind you being there.

As you walked in, you kicked off your shoes and propped yourself up against the headboard, phone in hand you smiled as you typed your text.

12:01AM

You: god that sucks so much, i would loveee to pick up where we left off,,

Yoongi: i know :(

Boldly, you switched your phone to its camera. You shoved off your jeans and took a picture of your hand lingering at the waistband on your black laced underwear.

You hadn’t been lying when you said you were horny, you felt insatiable.

You sent the pic, biting your nail in apprehension, this was definitely a bold move for you, but you wanted to get him as frustrated as you felt.

As he took a little while to reply you started to panic, maybe you had been too hasty.

You phone pinged and you couldn’t unlock it fast enough.

12:05AM

Yoongi: are you kidding me right now? Where are you? fuck that is the hottest thing i have ever seen

You couldn’t help but move your hand under your underwear, running a finger down your slit you couldn’t believe how wet you were.

You: im in jins room… its off limits but i couldn’t help myself, if u could feel how wet i am…..

Yoongi: FUCK

Yoongi: are u touching urself rn???

You: maybe……

Yoongi: jesus hold on.

You gasped slightly when your phone began to ring. Why was he calling you… was he mad?

You answered tentatively.

“Hello?” You said, confusion in your tone.

“Will you let me talk you through it?” Was all Yoongi asked.

His voice sounding so deep and husky it only turned you on more.

“Talk me through what?” You asked innocently.

“The orgasm I want you to give yourself.”

Fuck.

“Yes.” You practically moaned, applying a little pressure to your clit out of the excitement alone.

“Take your panties off completely, spread your legs, get comfortable.” He ordered.

You did as he asked, panting heavily.

“Okay, how wet are you?” He asked.

“I am so fucking wet, can’t stop thinking about you kissing me.” You replied.

Yoongi cursed under his breath.

“Okay, put two fingers in then, put the phone on speaker, set it beside you.” You did as he asked.

As you inserted your fingers you let out a little cry at the relief, you had been craving this all night, granted you wanted it to be Yoongi’s dick…

“Feels good.” Was all you could manage to say, closing your eyes tight.

“Okay fuck yourself slowly, rub your clit slowly as well.”

You eyes nearly rolled into the back of your skull.

You moaned in pleasure, completely in awe of how he was talking to you, he was a fucking pro.

“Want your cock,” you said breathily. “Want your cock in me so fucking bad.”

Yoongi was breathing heavily on the other line. “Fuck fuck – I know I wish I was there so bad. I’d fucking wreck you.”

You only moaned louder at his dirty talk.

“Start moving your fingers faster, put a little more pressure on your clit for me.” He said, hardly able to keep his voice steady.

“Fuck! I think I’ll cum soon.” You said as you did what he asked.

“Hm so soon? God, you must be so fucking needy baby.”

You could only moan at his pet name for you.

You loved being called baby, god you wanted him.

“Keep going, I wanna hear you cum.” He spurred you on.

You were losing yourself. Your orgasm was coming on so quick you were chasing it.

“Y/N? Are you close?”

“Ah- fuck- yes! I’m so close.” You said it was really all you could manage.

“Cum for me, fucking let go, god you are so fucking hot, rub your clit, I bet it’s so swollen, just begging to be sucked on.”

Jesus christ you were going to explode.

You gave yourself a few hard quick strokes before you pulled your fingers out and focused solely on rubbing your clit until you came so hard you were seeing stars.

“Fuck fuck fuck, I’m coming, I’m coming so fucking hard – fuck!”

You were silent for a minute, trying to come back down after your orgasm hitting you with such a force.

As you came back from your orgasm you had completely forgotten Yoongi was on the other end.

“Y/N are you okay?”

You grabbed the phone putting it against your ear.

“Yoongi jesus christ.” You said.

Yoongi chuckled on the other end.

“You just came so hard you were practically screaming. Let’s hope the party guests didn’t hear you.”

Oh fuck, you had completely forgotten where you were.

“I just came on Jin’s bed.” You said biting your lip.

“Yeah you did and it was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever heard, I wish I had been there.”

You were visibly pouting even though he couldn’t even see you.

“Next time.” You said.

“Next time?” He repeated.

“Next time.” You confirmed.

“Fuck… listen I’ve got to go, I wish I could talk more, I don’t like doing that then just hanging up, but I’m really busy. I can call you tomorrow.”

You smiled at how genuinely sincere he sounded.

“It’s fine, we’ll talk to tomorrow. Bye Yoongi.”

“Bye Y/N.” He said something else in his tone…you hoped it wasn’t regret.

And with that he hung up leaving you to clean yourself up and try and fix Jin’s bed, it wasn’t THAT bad, well maybe except for the small (not that small) wet patch.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #k pop fanfiction #forbidden fic #mine

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johobi · 5 years

Text

The Devil In His Details

Word count: 9.2k

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, drug mentions, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), assplay, prostate milking, edging

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686617

A/N: So this was supposed to be 1k words long for an anon that requested bad boy!Jimin in a drabble prompt game. Clearly that didn’t happen. I hope you enjoy it more than I did editing lkfjwalkjf.

Evil comes in many forms. In this instance, it’s a 5′8″ pretty-boy with an even prettier dick. And you’re the form you want him to come in.

Park Jimin.

A slender, regal nose. Two sly eyes that mellow with laughter. A white smile with just the one, imperfect tooth. Cheeks you'd find on a cherub's face, but a jawline hewn with the devil's input.

Everything about his face is an infuriating dichotomy of soft and sharp. And, God, his lips. Full, unfairly alluring, and begging to be kissed. But this is not a man who does much of that. Begging, that is. Kissing? Oh, he does a lot of that. It doesn't extend to you, though, no matter how much you wish it did.

Jimin is the object of your latest fixation. Well. You may say latest, but in reality you've been harbouring something hot and nasty for this guy for most of the academic year. To the faces of your friends, you blame the heartbreak inflicted by your ex-boyfriend. The thing is, you've been over him for months. Without that as a plausible explanation for your misguided crush, though, you have little to offer in substitution. Jimin isn't the type of guy any sensible, law-abiding girl should be cranking her Rabbit up for. Sure, he's so beautiful that his face can cleanse troubled minds. But he’s flying so many red flags it's like swimming in shark-infested waters.

He manspreads across from you in the campus square, leather jacket and black jeans lacquering his body and a cigarette dwindling limply between his lips. A smile occupies his mouth and eyes, the latter until they're mere, charming slits. You find yourself smiling, too. Oh, God. Get yourself together, ____. Fucking infatuated idiot.

You should know better. Jimin is aposematic with his lurid, magenta hair. He's a beacon of rebellion amidst the drab of campus conformation. And, yeah, maybe he looks cool because of that.

But he’s nothing but trouble.

A criminal.

You don't know the extent of his many and varied illegal activities, but you do know that you'd be an idiot to ever involve yourself with him. The lesser of his crimes begin with him not even being enrolled at the very university he utilises as his base of operations. And nor is he shooed away for his overt disregard for campus rules - and, generally, the law - because security lives snugly in his weed-stuffed back pocket. Yep, he's a dealer. Street racer. Brawler. You don't know how many times you've been torn from sleep by his gang's maniacal laughter as they rough up a rival, less attractive one.

He's also a heartbreaker.

And as ridiculous as it is, that's the thing that gives you most reason for pause. Not the drug-peddling, not the violence, but because you're in so deep you want to be sharkbitten. Consumed, bone for bone.

But he never looks your way. Ever. You're not so much a Plain Jane, you don't think, but desperately shy. Especially where your heart's involved. It forgets its function when confronted with someone you like. You take care of your appearance. You've had a few, long-term boyfriends. But whenever you're dumped back at Square One: Single, you're as hopeless in romance as you are in cooking. And all the cuisine you can conjure involves a microwave.

Scenarios of seduction circulate your mind as you ogle him from afar, your thoroughly bitten lip again between your teeth. If only you possessed the confidence your best friend insisted lay latent within you. It would be nothing to strut up to him now and toss your phone into his lap, arms crossed and an expectant smirk curling your mouth. "Gonna give me your number, or what?" you'd sigh - exasperated for the sake of drama - his beautiful face wiped clean of its cocksure facade.

Yeah, that'd be real cool.

But you're still sitting here, legs bobbing out of habit. Jimin is still there, smug and sexy, imparting something hilarious enough, apparently, to wind the comparably attractive guys with him. It's then that your phone purrs between your hands, clutched and previously forgotten.

It's Jisoo, said best friend.

[13:56] slut #1: heyyyy

[13:56] slut #1: guess what

It'll be one of two things. Either she needs your notes because she slept-in in lieu of doing the set reading, or—

[13:56] slut# 1: our floor's having a party tonight

Party.

[13:56] slut #1: come or ill break your legs

The severity of her threat comes down to your repeatedly declining her invitations. It's not that you don't enjoy parties, because you do. In fact, there’s rarely a time you feel more alive than getting smashed and exorcising your anxiety for those few hours. It's more the fact that it takes a month's worth of mental energy to prevent you flaking out in the lead-up.

Today, though, you're game. Your introversion has been well and truly catered to these last, barren weeks. You're at full charge.

[13:58] yeah, why not

Dots dance across the screen.

[13:58] slut #1: serious???? holy shit that was easy for once

[13:58] slut #1: come to my room at 9

[13:59] the party's in your room?

[13:59] slut #1: no dumbass it's like the whole floor, idek whose party it is but u gotta meet me somewhere right

[14:00] kk. see you then

However unlikely, a feeble hope tugs at your fragile, besotted heart. Maybe he'll go? The organ stutters in your chest when you raise your eyes to where Jimin sits. But he's gone. Suddenly, it all seems like a terrible idea. It's just not meant to be. The universe is communicating it to you as gently as it can.

I need a firm slap. Irked by your nonsensical infatuation, you shoot to your feet and make off in a storm, bag not so much slung but catapulted onto your back. I need to get the fuck over this.

The campus square is a sizeable, open space with the central fountain being its only obstacle. However, by how solid the object is that you suddenly collide with, it seems to have sprouted another.

"Shit!" you gasp, nose flattened sharply, painfully, against something immovable. As you rub it, brows sharp in offense, you peer up into eyes of the thing you've blindly marched into.

Fuck.

Jungkook.

One of Jimin's lackeys.

Before you can locate his magenta-headed leader, however, Jungkook fills the entirety of your field of view. His narrow lips draw tighter; eyes, too. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

“U-Uh—”

“Uh?” the musclehead mimics, stooping into your personal space. By instinct, you shrink. At odds with his adorably prominent front teeth, the sneer he wears is nasty. “Anything else?”

An errant glance over Jungkook’s shoulder finds you Jimin. He hangs back, hands in pockets, nonplussed by the confrontation. It’s likely pretty tame in comparison to their usual run-ins. But it frustrates you, nonetheless, that the boy won’t look at you, even now, when the spotlight is searing you.

Jungkook snaps his fingers at the end of your nose and you’re back in the room. “Well?”

“I’m sorry. It was an accident. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You hack for breath when he exhales a plume of cigarette smoke directly into your face. “I-It won’t happen again.”

The other one with them - Seokjin, the half-ass in your business studies class - claps a hand on Jungkook’s seam-straining shoulder. “‘Roid rage. Sorry, sweetheart. You’re a finance major too, right?”

Before you can even process the unexpected civility of his question, Jungkook rounds on him in ire. “The fuck? You know I don’t take steroids.” His cigarette flares at the corner of his mouth. Like a showboating pidgeon, he puffs out his muscular chest. “This is all hard work.”

Seokjin is clearly unmoved. He blinks an unnecessary amount of times, like it’s a tic of his. His glasses ride up as he crinkles his nose. Then: “Okay. Didn’t know you were too stupid to get a joke though. ‘Roids must be shrinking your brain as well as your dick.”

“What—”

An Off-White jacket streaks across your vision.

“—the fuck—”

A white t-shirt follows it soon after.

“—did you just say?”

Jungkook ripples, shirtless, with such unabated fury he distorts the air surrounding. Or maybe it’s the heatwave.

It’s then, beholding this sudden, aggressive display, that your fear finally surfaces. “Oh my God, what the fuck is happening?” you whisper exclusively to yourself, because to attract attention is to court an ass-beating.

And it’s then, of course, that Jimin finally takes heed of your existence. With a quirk of his head, he stares you down. Well, not so much stare. What he does expresses far less effort. His eyes meander the length of you in their own, good time, before landing on your blanching face. The laziest of smirks possess his lips.

Your heart sprouts wings.

His smirk widens.

Fuck, your heart’s airborne. It’s gonna launch itself out your mouth.

Seokjin dispels Jimin’s sorcery with another, unwisely provocative comment. “Your dick’s shrivelled? Or your brain? I don’t know which one offended you.”

Jungkook pounds his chest once, like an oversexed silverback. “Why you always gotta do me like this, bro? Is it ‘cause I fucked your mom that one time? I thought you were over tha—”

“Fuck you!”

Just when you’d established Seokjin as the pacifist of the group, he begins throttling Jungkook double-handed. The pair slip into an awkward grapple while Jimin looks on.

Looks at you.

Doesn’t even spare a glance for the groups of hurried, whispering students migrating across campus.

Guttural grunts float up from the ground as Jungkook and Seokjin’s scuffle escalates, but their leader pays them no mind in that moment. It’s your opportunity to say something more, but you don’t. Your vocal chords never pull together.

Moment missed.

Jimin sweeps a lock of magenta from his eyes, finally animate. A testy sigh siphons from him. “Get up. You’re making me look bad. Put your fucking shirt on, Jungkook.” His voice, usually soft, strikes like a serpent. Venom coats his tongue. “You represent me, dickheads. Plus, you’re scaring this girl.”

The absurdity of the situation, the apprehension you feel, is muffled for a moment. All you can hear is the rush of blood and Jimin’s vocal acknowledgement of your existence ricocheting in your mind. Girl. You.

It’s stupid. Demeaning, even, snapping up these scraps like a slobbering mongrel.

But exciting.

Having captured Jimin’s attention, you bow to him the gratitude you can’t vocalise. The plan, as you rise, is to hit him with a seductive smile, but you're certain your mouth only stretches awkwardly. Nevertheless, his pretty lips purse for a moment before pulling up, too. “I’m going.” He addresses them, but his eyes are on you.

Jimin takes his leave without further ado. As he passes you his gaze lingers too long, demanding he turn his face. His body ghosts past without contact, but a chilly thrill descends upon you like he's drifting right through your bones. And then he struts away like he owns the place, because he does.

And, God, he owns you, too.

His in-fighting entourage scrabble to catch up with him. Jungkook's hastily gathered clothes scrape the floor as he runs, their expense forgotten. “‘Min-hyung! Wait! We’re sorry!”

"Bye then," you comment, quiet, to their retreating backs. It wasn't quite the first encounter you'd prophesied, but considering Jimin's reputation, it should've been.

Anyway.

Your eyes fall to your phone and this evening's plans.

Party.

---

Jisoo's generously highlighted features bob before you in the muted light. Parts of her face are so illuminescent it looks like scaffolding. "Anyway, I'll be back soon. Get some drinks, loosen up. I need to find Namjoon."

"Okay, but are you actually gonna come back?" Your first beaker of jungle juice is already souring your lips. "'Cause if you're gonna find Namjoon, I don't think you're gonna come back."

Her eyes are everywhere but on you, glossy mouth twisting. “I'll really try! But I also really wanna see him, now I know he's here." Suddenly, your free hand is in her meticulously manicured clutches. "I'm not saying I will disappear, but I might. Please understand! I need dick so bad. Please." And now her eyes are on yours, black as night and just as dangerous. Jisoo is never more serious than when cock is at stake.

You shake yourself free of her flimsy grasp and flimsier promises. "Do what you want, but I don't know anyone in your dorm. If you don't come back in an hour, I'm gonna go."

That was an hour ago.

Within that hour, you consumed three cups of awful booze, lingered awkwardly by the party lights, and recovered zero Jisoos. The only noteworthy happening was some plastered guy insisting you were his boyfriend. So insistent, in fact, that you doubted your own identity by the last of the 15 minutes he spent calling you Yoongi. He lamented endlessly about how difficult it would be to survive the evening without getting in your tight little ass. The only thing that convinced him of the truth to your identity was said, tight-assed man appearing and dragging the lightweight away. Yoongi did have a nice ass, you observed, as they fell back into the throng.

Oh.

And Jimin was here.

Skulking the fuchsia shadows like a perfect predator. Thing is, he's already top of the food chain. No hunting required. Very much evidenced by the girls that swarmed him all night like a shoal of pilotfish. The music was too loud and the light too dim, but for every instance he opened his mouth, his accompanying partygoers exploded into laughter. This seems a skill of his. He has dominion over men and women both.

And you're no exception.

Whenever he was in sight, he drew your eyes. When he was dancing, he drew them lower. And there they remained, never straying from his swivelling hips and straining thighs. The girls danced in circles around him like they were worshipping a pagan idol. Understandable. You coveted him, too, from afar.

But now he's gone. Your cup is empty. Jisoo is getting Namjoon'd.

It's been an hour. You're going home.

There’s enough trash at your feet and liquor loosening your morals that you feel no guilt in dropping your beaker onto the pile. Polished, black shoes with pointed toes enter view and crumple that which you’ve littered. You look up.

“Juh—”

Jimin. It’s Jimin. Neither your mouth nor brain can co-ordinate sufficiently enough to identify him verbally, though. Instead, you gawp, inches from his breathtaking face, bathed in romantic light. “Littering, huh? Kinda rude, don’t you think?” He taunts, tongue between teeth. When you don’t rebut him, he slides an arm up the wall behind you. Sinks closer, until your eyes meet on an intimate level. “What are you doing here, campus girl? Didn’t think this was your kind of thing.”

Righteous indignation roils in you. As for why, it’s unclear. As are most things when relatively tipsy. “How would you know what my kind of thing is? You don’t know me. Also, don’t call me campus girl.” At this proximity, you’re acutely aware of the alcohol on your breath. You dial it down a bit. Turn your head and snort. “That’s rude.”

The alcohol, apparently, has also robbed you of your self-preservation skills. Because never in the light of a sober day would you be slighting a delinquent like this. And not the one you’re besotted with, either. That, then, dawns on you. As does his closeness, and the sweet smell of his own poison of choice.

“Well, I don’t know your name, do I?” Charm inhabits his tone, his smile. God, it’s flustering. Jimin toys with you, thwarting your attempts to evade his eyes. His face follows yours, until it’s all you can do but stop and stare. Fall fully and deeply into him. “‘Cause you’re shy, aren’t you?” He wets his lips then, unfairly. They’re dewy and full and even rosier in this light.

“Let me suck your dick,” you blurt, hypothesizing it being just as juicy. Just as tasty. Your inhibitions are low, but not enough that this is a mistake. Jisoo is right. There’s confidence in you, somewhere. You tap it when you tap a keg.

Jimin looks scandalised. His eyebrows vanish into his hairline. Giddy laughter streams from him. “Pardon?”

“I said, let me suck your dick.” Power floods your bloodstream. Liquid courage mingles with. “I’m pretty good at it, and I really want to. Like, so bad. I think about it a lot.”

If he says no, you no longer have to wonder.

If he says no, you never have to look at him again.

If he says no, you can chase someone wholesome and virtuous.

If he says yes, you get to suck his dick.

“Yeah?” Interest kindles in Jimin’s keen, black eyes. He’s close enough, now, that his body heat feels akin to weight against you. His voice drops below the bass of the music. “What did you think about?”

Are you gonna dirty talk in public?

A quick glance around and they aren’t so much the public anymore as parading monkeys, high on lust and low on decency. Just over from you, there’s a girl getting the least discreet fingerbanging of her life.

So, yeah. You lose a little of your rigidity and tip back your head. Lick your lips with a deliberate tongue. “How pretty your cock probably is. How it’d feel on my tongue, in my throat.” Unconscious or not, Jimin’s pressing to your hip. The subject of your conversation starts soft in his pants, but stiffens with your salacious description. Fuck, you’re tingling, too. “How you’d taste, coming down my throat—”

“Are you for real, campus girl?” Jimin interrupts, breathy. Disbelieving. He almost sounds distressed. Like a donkey that doesn’t wanna walk miles for a dangling carrot. Jimin doesn’t seem to get it, though. He’s the carrot, and dear God you wanna chomp down.

“I told you not to call me that. Guess you’re not interested,” you bluff, because not only are you provocative on booze, you’re also an absolute fucking idiot. There’s a significant chance he’ll tire of your tsundere bullshit and find another open mouth. However, as you turn to leave, fate smiles on you. As does he, when he sandwiches you to the wall, his chest to your back and his mouth a ghost on the nape of your neck.

Chills.

Chills spread where his breath is hot and wet. But still, his lips don’t touch. You can, however, hear the smirk in his voice. “Tell me your name.”

The stutter sabotages you somewhat. You’re breathless. “I-It’s ____.”

"____," Jimin repeats with a flick of his tongue, wetting your nape with the slightest of saliva. "Are you for real, ____? Or are you drunk?"

His fingers spread like wildfire across the tops of your thighs, testing the give of your flesh. You exhale as if he's squeezing the soul from you. "I'm for real. I'm not drunk, I've just had enough to realise that if I don't say this now, I never will. How often do you talk to me, after all?"

Jimin's throat rumbles as he contemplates. His lips part by your ear, vocal fry caressing each, careful syllable. "How often do you talk to me?" he poses. The steady, rigid throbbing against your ass suggests that this could've happened sooner.

Reluctant as you are to disturb your clinch, you’re not here to stare at the plastering. It would be a crime to deny yourself the chance to ogle his beauty close-up. With this in mind, you twist against his body, bringing your fronts flush together. God, he throbs all the more potently like this, pressed to the crotch of your dress. Jimin's still smiling, of course, all illegal charm and zero reserve.

A nervous lick of lips. "You're terrifying. Especially when you're surrounded by those guys all the time. That's why I don't talk to you." It’s a half-truth. The other half is your incompetence in flirting.

"And here I was, thinking you were shy," is Jimin’s riposte. "But, clearly, I'm wrong." Those plush, pink lips descend on you before you can blink away the unreality of it. They're softer than any piss-poor imitation of a man's mouth that's come before them. Softer than silk, even. And when they open, syrupy. A mire of heat and wet tongue, caressing away all your prior fears, even if they're legit. It really doesn't matter. Not when you're tasting this sublime man. Not when he suckles at your mouth so sensually, so gently. He can't be that horrific a person when he's holding you with such careful attention. It's too soon when he unties your tongues. "You don't need to be afraid of me," Jimin murmurs thickly to your lips. The lop-sided smile he wears says otherwise. It's a little too close to a sneer. "Well, ____—" he steps back. Lures you with him. "Wanna make this a reality?"

You're giddy as fuck. So much so your legs feel like a Newton's cradle. "Y-Yeah. Take me somewhere—" to speak his name is to make it real— "Jimin."

People blur, merge shapelessly around you as he weaves through their mass, leading you by one, dainty hand. It's not the drink. You're dizzy - high, even - with anticipation so intense it renders all outside his svelte figure indistinct. All there is is him, and what you're about to do. It doesn't even feel like you're tripping up the stairs when you do. You're floating, actually, because he's pulling you up and smirking so salaciously that you're weightless. The only weight is the one nestled deep in your abdomen, punching at your cunt like it knows well what that smug mouth could do.

The two of you stagger into an unoccupied bathroom. It's as grim and grotty as you'd expect of student lodgings, but that matters very little right now. Even though you're painfully germaphobic. The priority is realising you're about to suck off Park fucking Jimin. It hits you so powerfully that, for a very long second, you want to reconsider. After all, he likely has expectations. Confidence flees from you.

"Okay, then. On your knees, ____."

And then it floods back. As does desire.

Jimin perches atop the toilet with poise, its seat flat beneath him. You briefly speculate its cleanliness, but he’s already slinking the denim down his legs and over his knees. They cling in a pool at his ankles, likely impossible to get any further. His visibly wilting cock lounges against the crotch of his CKs, waiting for your intervention. It'll have to wait a little longer, though, because there's nothing on God's awful earth that will hinder your leering at this visual feast. His muscle-strapped thighs are somehow all the thicker hugging the bowl of the toilet. And the tiny, toned waist they taper to is all the confirmation you require to understand that this man is way out of your league. Like, forget international league. You're 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. "Fuck."

The curse is all he needs to understand. Whether it's for the sake of wanking his ego or to titillate you further, Jimin tenses his quads until they're as hard and smooth as varnished oak. All you want is to ride them like a fucking rocking horse. "You making me wait?"

Hell no. Before he can even finish his taunt you're at his feet and kneading his thighs like dense dough. Jimin feels fit. He isn't pliable like lovers gone. He's zero body fat, all thew, all sex. He's everything.

And you're nothing to him.

Tonight, though, you’ll become something.

Your fingers continue upward. And as they do, inward. Where he's slightly fleshier, and by the twitch of his covered dick, more sensitive. "How do you like it?"

"I'm as predictable as any other guy," Jimin half-shrugs, reclining against the cistern. His fingers curl into your hair, though not in any pushy, possessive way. It's almost as though he's simply appreciating its texture. The curve of your scalp. Tingles spring from his touch and arrest your body. "Deep as possible. Don't neglect the shaft. Play with my balls a little," he reels off his litany shamelessly. "If you can take it, lemme fuck your face?"

Each of his suggestions make both your mouth and cunt salivate. You want all of those things and more. That other thing. "We'll see," you say as much to yourself as you do to him. "Let's see what we're working with." You lunge for his waistband with both hands, eager to steal them from his body. Jimin halts you once you peek pubes.

"I'm not sitting my bare ass on this toilet." The grunt he makes is indignant. Adamant.

But you have plans. And so you whip a towel from its rail and coax it beneath him, the makeshift mat feeling dubiously damp. "If you want me to do it good, let me have you without your underwear."

Jimin complies, shifting his weight. Then, with danger perverting his tone: "Then you better do it good, ____."

You perform well under pressure. The pressure that comes with academic deadlines and 10th grade theatre, at least. However, it doesn't extend to sucking the cock of, arguably, the most intimidating, most captivating man you've gawped at from afar. Your previous lovers were diffident and easy to please. It's only through your own, bored invention that you delved deeper into the art of oral with them. You hope it serves you well tonight. "I'll try my best," you challenge, brow cocked, Jimin's boxers successfully purloined. The front of them are tacky to the touch, and this alone incites you. God, you can taste his salt already.

To your dismay, he doesn't resume his careful caressing of your scalp. No, once his bottom half is nude, he splays his thighs obscenely and leans back, fingers curling around the towel-covered toilet seat. From here he peers down his nose at you, a smirk all the while. His torso is one rigid, smooth slope, and you wish selfishy to see it exposed. Asking for that, too, though, might be too much.

And now that your gaze plummets, it doesn't matter. His cock is enough. You'd think it impossible for such an awkward looking appendage to ever earn the term pretty. But, uniform with the rest of him, his is. What he lacks in length he makes up for generously in girth. His cock is chubby and blushing, and, yes, pretty. God, so pretty.

Yes, you'll let him face-fuck you.

The tinkle of Jimin's earrings disrupt your awed silence. He projects impatience: Chewed lips, raised eyebrows, a slight, inquisitive tilt to his head. "This your first time or something?" Magenta falls across his eyes as his focus slips down his own body. He cages his cock inside a delicate fist, nurturing it to its full, thickened capacity. As it grows, so does his filthy smile. "You don't need to lie to me. I can go easy on you."

"This isn't my first time." Your resentment is palpable. Apparently, he enjoys it. As he pumps himself harder, his tongue probes disrespectfully at the corner of his upturned mouth. That only inflames you. "Is it your first time? Are all the rumours false?" Your comeback is risky, but the mood suggests banter is welcome. Perhaps all this big, bad wolf wants is a little, red-faced riding hood to provoke him.

The dare pays off. With one last, long stroke, he lets loose his erection, the concrete appendage slapping his stomach with an admirable thud. Resting back on one hand, he gestures to his waiting cock with the other. "Totally. I'm a good boy, ____. Now stop talking and fucking spit on it."

Your clit jumps. As do you, right into action. With your palms canvassing his inner thighs, you take one last, unenlightened breath before you dive face-first into his musk, pulling aside his cock to nuzzle at its base. To fully savour his scent and warmth. Jimin fills your hand to the extent you're unable to form anything close to a closed fist. Your thoughts are possessed only by your imagination and how wide he could stretch you. How full he could make you. A fucking stampede thuds through your pussy. "Mm, you have such a nice cock," you murmur around the root of him. It's not so much meant as a compliment, but a statement of pure fact that must be expressed. You're sure he's heard such professions many times.

Yep. "I know, sweetheart." The timbre of his voice is a little heavier. Breathier. As your tongue flicks lazily under the round of his balls, it quivers, too. Nevertheless, he maintains his stoicism. "Why you teasing me down there? You know what I want."

When you pull one of his testicles into your mouth, however, he emits a quiet noise. One that sounds a little like it's something he wants. "Yes, daddy," you mouth around him, full irony. Jimin reacts to it, though. Pushes into your slack grip, looking for friction you're not about to give. It's almost enough to make you roll your eyes. Still, you don't know where the limit to his patience lies. And so you relent and pull your mouth upwards, dragging his sac with your reluctant lips. Jimin tenses when finally you free him, wet, sticky, and back to hanging. And then you're ascending his fat, veiny shaft, lathering the underside with your tongue. Ekeing from him the most delicious gasps of air. His hands go back into your hair, though with far less care this time, grasping at your roots as though to earth him.

"Yeah, that's it, ____. Keep going." Jimin's encouragement is sweeter to the ears than any lauded music. And so is the stifled whine that streams from him when you glaze the tip of his cock with saliva, enough to dribble down its entire length. Once he’s sufficiently spat on, you follow with your mouth. Fuck, it’s a strain to accommodate him. A feat not to scrape him with your teeth. He's so thick you must look vulgar stuffing him between your lips like this. A wayward glance tells you he's enjoying the lewd visual, though. His mouth is parted and breath puffs quickly from him. His eyes, normally sharp with wit, are dull. Fully blown. Jimin devours the sight of your struggle, as you do his uncomfortably chubby dick. His nails imprint crescents of self-restraint into the skin of your scalp. "F-Fuck. Yeah. Suck me."

You do. More fervently than you have any mouth-watering candy. Your lips work the head of his cock with measured pressure, back-and-forth, to the tune of his increasingly whiny vocalisations. Instinct takes him, sometimes, and he jerks without thought into you. Your teeth graze him, then, but it seems like an ineffective deterrence. No, sometimes he moans when you catch him, and for that you reward him with tongue on his frenulum.

That gets him the most.

His thighs ripple, his back bends. His head of magenta hair falls back.

"You—mmmmh—like that?" is your an attempt at a taunt, dulled by the cock wedged in your cheek.

"You suck dick like a fucking slut." Jimin is panting now, a sheen of perspiration oiling his face. Fuck, he looks dewy and downright dirty. The crotch of your panties is saturated with want for him. "You pretend you're all innocent and shit, but, Jesus, you're a dirty bitch."

With an enthusiastic flex of his thighs, he struggles free from the jeans binding him and props up a foot, knee bent and accentuating just how shapely his calves are. Spread like this, he's sordid. Wanton. He's getting desperate, and, against all expectations, unafraid to show it. Men with his level of machismo are typically reserved. It turns you on, dials you into overdrive, just how unabashed his enjoyment is. "Deeper. Can you take it deeper, ____? P-Please," Jimin whimpers on cue, resolve thready.

Briefly, you alight from his cock. He whimpers about that, too. This man is the terror of your college campus. And now he’s a needy, sex-swollen mess. "Depends. Can I edge you?" You're actually decently sober at this point, but bravado still brews in you nevertheless.

Jimin, no longer basking, purses his lips. Glares with the fury of a thousand blue-balled men. "Don't you fucking dare. Try it and I'll take over. I’ll come all over your smug little face."

The threat, in actuality, is more a solemn hope of yours. "Okay, okay. I won't edge you." Your hands keep busy while your overtaxed mouth relishes its moment of emptiness. You funnel your energy, instead, into keeping his cock stiff, five fingers twisting along its lubed-up length. With the other hand, you return to your earlier fixation and palm tenderly at his distended balls. A delicate quivering radiates from his core muscles. "But I really wouldn't mind you coming all over my face."

Everything about him tenses, then releases. His eyelids, low, bear the weight of arousal. "For real?"

"Might as well, my knees are already gross. You can get me dirtier if you like, Jimin." And then you're pulling down the straps of your dress until your breasts spill out, already pebbled and desperate for a fondling they won't get tonight. "Or here. Or everywhere. Just go to town."

Jimin gulps down stuffy, humid air. Concentrates a little too hard on your uncovered tits. Rocks a little too enthusiastically into your undulating grip. "God, yeah. I wanna come all over you. Spit in your fucking mouth." Suddenly it's not just your sole fist grasping him. He's clutching you, clutching him. Squeezing your knuckles until they're white and his cock is very, very red. "I'll bend you over the bathtub and fuck you 'til I break your hips. 'Til your pussy's dripping cum."

“Jesus—”

You’re so luststruck by his vulgar fantasies that it’s almost too late when you come to your senses. Jimin fucks your hands so ferociously it’s clear that the beast has taken him. You snatch away your hands before he wastes himself all over them. His come away, too, hovering in the air and demanding answers.

"Okay, well you just edged yourself." A giggle slips out while you watch him heave breath like he's nearing death. In a way, it's cute. Jimin's cheeks are full and flushed, eyes rounder than moons. He himself seems taken aback by his lapse into unadultered lust. "Don't take away the only reason I came here."

Despite Jimin's earlier, emphatic disapproval of being edged, he sure seems appreciative now. He basks in the near-rush, mellower than before. Gently - perhaps affectionately? - he cradles the back of your head and draws you in, a thumb pressing caresses to your cheek. This sudden sweetness, it's abnormal. Harmful. You don't want it. You don't want to see his good side, nor fall for it.

But here he comes, eyes searching, lips begging.

"Then deepthroat me like I asked."

Nevermind.

The pompous smirk is back. He reclines, his one leg up like an ode to Michaelangelo, dick tall and looking just as self-important. You're decided. It's time to make him squeal. "Okay. No edging. But let me make it feel even better?"

Jimin drips scepticism. "How?"

Fully anticipating rejection, you're direct. "Lemme stick a finger up your ass."

Again, he surprises you. Insomuch that revulsion doesn’t immediately sour him. "The fuck?" A husky chuckle rattles in his chest, instead. "Is that your secret technique?"

"Kinda." Your shoulders draw inward as self-consciousness consumes you. "I totally get it if you don't want to. But the other guys I've been with enjoyed it."

"Then do it, whatever. Don't let me go soft, though, ____," Jimin warns with pouty lips. His cock leans demonstratively forward, threatening flaccidity. "I'm feeling neglected."

"Tragic," you coo, feigning empathy. Looking as petulant as he, you suckle softly around the head of his dick, enkindling his passion before it fades. Your tongue does work around its bulbous ridge, teasing where it makes him squirm most. Then, with his demands in mind, your mouth descends over his modest stretch of shaft, worshipping each, precious inch as you go.

“Yes, baby. That’s it, that’s it.”

You dip and rise, tug and suck in a tantalising advance toward his base, wringing the precum from him. It's salty and sticky and you love it on your tongue, love smearing him with his own mess. Want to smear him with your mess.

“Fuck, yeah. K-Keep—unh!—going!”

The more of him you gobble, the more erratic his body behaves. Beneath your hands, his sweat-tacked thighs are tremulous, tensing without rhyme or reason. Jimin has little control over any of his extremities. His hands are uncomfortable fists in the back of your hair, like he's reining in a wilful mare. And then there's his beautiful, unstopped moaning, so sinful your clit thumps like a bass drum between your legs. You moan, too, slurping the end of his leaking cock to the back of your throat so he can better feel it. The reverberations must reach him, because Jimin bucks, then, wildly enough to trigger a gag. "Ugh, y-yes, fuck!"

You can't so much as master Savasana in yoga, but what you are adept at is gag control. And though you cough a little, slaver a little, nothing but sudden death will stop you now. Nose-deep in Jimin’s considerately trimmed pubic hair, you trap him momentarily there, the whole of his cock nestled deep in your throat's constraints.

Jimin looks half-way gone. His hands hover above your shoulders, fingers curling and twitching peculiarly, like he’s about to astral project. Indeed, all you can see through the sliver in his lightly-closed lids is the white of his eyes. Every so often Jimin rolls his pelvis towards you, but you stymy his attempts to face-fuck you until you're ready to see him over the finish line. Grasping his hips, your thumbs take the liberty of feeling the lines of his obliques, and, God, you've never hated an item of clothing more than the t-shirt he's wearing.

"More," he splutters, then, swivelling against your hold like he's compelled. "More, give me more. I'm so close, I—I wanna fucking drown you in cum—" an ungodly groan bursts forth as he whips himself into a frenzy of his own making— "Fuck, you suck cock so good—so good, baby."

Of all things, baby is what heats your cheeks. The endearment feels like long-coveted validation. "Bear with me," is what you try to communicate, but considering the weight of his cock is pinning your tongue, it comes out garbled. Jimin doesn't even notice, so rapt is he in your mouth's luxury. Occasionally, he rewards your efforts with globs of pre-ejaculate that slide smooth down your throat.

Not wanting to interrupt his well-earned crawl to orgasm, you bob on his cock hands-free, employing them instead to locate one of the condoms populating your purse. Keeping pace is difficult enough that it's not long before Jimin, unsteady on his perch, growls in caution.

"Don't you dare fucking stop," he grunts through gritted teeth, scrutinising your every, unrelated move. When he sees what it was you sought, the growl becomes a snarl. The disdain his eyes convey is almost comical. "Don't make me come in that. I'm not coming in that," he snorts, placated momentarily by your refocused efforts on his plump little dick. As you tear open the wrapper, you tongue his cock hole like a striking snake. "Oh, sh-shit!—H-Hey, if you don't want me to come on you I won't, but—"

Slobber splatters the towel in your haste to cut him off. "It's not for you."

Rather than court more questions, you demonstrate. Hastily, you unroll the condom over your longest finger. Then, with his unerring attention, you squat back on your heels and hike up your dress, allowing him a view onto your panty-wrapped cunt. Jimin doesn't even notice that your mouth is gone from him while he’s leching. It’s just long enough an opportunity to dip your rubber-sheathed digit deep into the wetness of your pussy. He makes noises as you do, quiet ones, ones that stress how much he wants to be inside it. When you withdraw, your lips lock back onto him, kissing his cock where it's most swollen and sensitive. "Try and relax, okay? It'll feel good quicker if you do," you offer in advice, your cunt-slick finger bypassing his balls and slithering along his perineum. Already he's reacting, even from this slight, external stimulation.

"I'm relaxed as fuck," Jimin puffs defiantly, despite his initial recoil. "Show me what you're all about, ____."

"Alright then." Ever so carefully, you wheedle the tip of your finger past his asshole, stopping when his body tells you to. "Jimin, if you can’t handle it—"

They're unextraordinary words, but, apparently, the magic ones. Immediately he loosens around you. "I can. Shut up."

You do. By engulfing his erection without warning. Drawing on it like you would a drinking straw, enough to fluster him into distraction. The result is an easy, sailing entry into his ass, right up to your knuckle. It's not difficult to locate his prostate from there, as deliciously swollen as it is. With a cursory couple of taps, Jimin's body responds in new, mesmerizing ways.

"W-What the fuck—ah!" he cries through his confusion, the unfamiliar feeling prying his eyes wide. Jimin can only watch, overwhelmed, as you manipulate him from within, his back arching clean from the cistern. He's suspended by sensation, a wobbling tension keeping him upright. As you slurp mercilessly at his cock, you fix him with a look. Jimin's not there to receive it, though. His expression says his brain short-circuited the moment you started stroking him internally. And then, with a choked gasp, he returns to the corporeal, yanking at your hair like a man possessed. Only, he's pulling you away. "Stop, oh fuck, I'm gonna piss in your mouth." Distress and arousal fight for his features. The latter is winning, if the stutter of his hips is anything to go by. He's caught between two worlds of pleasure; bookended by penetration and your softly nursing mouth. All he can do is thrust from one to the other.

You come away with his hands, just briefly. Kitten-lick his purpling cockhead. "It's okay. You won't pee, it's meant to feel like that. Just go with it, unless you don't like it."

The blush dusting his cheeks deepens. You can't imagine it's because he's embarrassed, but for a moment he looks vulnerable. Human. Beautiful. Your heart trips. "Whatever," he attempts nonchalance, but his needy fragility is fooling no-one. "I like it, so don't stop. As long as you're sure i won't piss in your mouth. I mean, I don't care if I do, but you might—ungh!"

Swallowing a man's cock is as good as gagging them. Jimin falls quieter than night when you welcome him back into your warmth, working his shaft as well as your aching jaw will allow. Your tongue, too, is tiring, and yet you only twist around him all the more ravenously. It's not just his body that’s contorting when you pound at his prostate, now. His mouth hangs open unchecked, all thought for appearances gone. Within, his tongue writhes, articulating nothing but bodiless sounds.

You rub harder. Suck harder. More insistent. Jimin's eyebrows knit so tightly his nose crinkles. And when he does, a flood of runny, salty liquid squirts into your mouth, catching you off guard and in-between breaths. It's a wonder you don't drown when it keeps coming, this thin, bountiful expulsion. "F-Fuck, God—what is that—" he whines between milkings. As it seeps from your stuffed mouth, Jimin is enraptured. With his focus on you, you regurgitate it noisily over his cock, dousing him in his own fluids. "Fuck, i-it feels so good. I want more." His hands are either side of your face, fingers at your temples, palms pressuring your cheeks. "More." With a grunt, he hoists his previously dangling leg onto the toilet seat with the other. He squats, open and obscene, the picture of aroused anguish. "More. Harder," he jerks, marionette-like, to fuck himself on your finger, to propel his cock further down your throat. You're prepared for this onslaught now, mouth wide and tongue laying dormant as he rams his tip to your tonsils. Each thrust pushes more of his leakage from your mouth until you're drooling like a starving dog. And he's transfixed by it, teeth grinding, gripped by a terrifying hunger. "Fuck. Take it, take me, oh, shit—t-ta—"

Nothing much else comes from Jimin but discharge, his face contorting as his body does, locked and straining. The motion of his hips slows until it ceases. There, he floats, with unseeing eyes, his orgasm approaching in an unavoidable swell. The throbbing that radiates from his buried cock is the final tell you chance before you cough him from your mouth, kneeling tall before him, breasts and face a blank canvas. You don't push him that last step so much as hammer him, battering his prostate until his mouth twists in devastation. Jimin's eyes are so wide it's like you're fucking the fear of God into him. He rises from his squat, millimetre by millimetre, as you slap your palm to his taint; his bloated balls. "C-Coming, I'm coming—" is all he can rasp as his soul departs and streaks your face once, twice—your eyelids fall closed as thick, viscous white weights down your lashes. Robbed of your sight, his groans hit louder, deeper. They resonate with agony, almost. And still he paints you, your throat, your neglected tits. "Oh my God, I—"

“That’s it, Jimin. Empty yourself on me.”

As the deluge dies away, you wipe your eyes free of cum and slide yourself from his spasming asshole. You expect to see him sat there, clutching his softening cock, but instead he’s sat back, hands-free and seeing constellations on the ceiling. "You came without touching your dick? Damn. That's restraint," you chuckle, your mouth feeling oddly loose. Too big. Too empty. When Jimin doesn't respond: "You okay?"

He stirs briefly from catatonia, though he continues to stare spaceward. "I'm good. I'm good. I think." A laugh comes out, but it's like he's forgotten what they should sound like. "Well, that was fucking awesome." A few, dumbstruck seconds later, Jimin returns to earth with a shaky sigh and that damn smirk. Finally, he looks at you. "Whoa. I got you messy as fuck."

A deadpan blink is all you can spare him when most of your body is protesting some type of pain. Your jaw, particularly, feels unhinged. "Yeah. You didn't notice that before?" You slip the latex from your finger and lob it at the trashcan. You miss.

"I did, but I was, like, coming my brains out. I didn't know what the fuck I was seeing, other than it was good." With an unsteady hand, he flattens back his soaked bangs and stares at you, eyelids heavy. His cheeks are stained pink with exertion. "You look so hot like that. Fuck." And though his body must be leaden after satiation, he pulls you up to your knees, until your torsos nearly touch. Stops just short of smearing himself with his own ejaculate. Instead, he cups one of your soiled breasts with a small, soft hand, thumbing his cum across the nipple. Being touched here, now, after such deprivation, it's like a kiss of life to your cunt. It roars back to life with a bitter vengeance. But Jimin remains modest in his touches. Doesn't stray much from your one, sticky breast. No, he's more focused on you. Your face. Studying all there is to know about its shapes. And he's inscrutable as he does it. It makes you nervous. "Well." It's scarcely more than a whisper. "Thank you," he mumbles, soft and awkward, like he's never before expressed appreciation for anything. And then he kisses you again, though it feels like it's for the first time. It's slow, intimate, with lazy tongue and spent breaths in between. It makes your heart race for several, terrifying reasons. You break apart, then. "Can I do anything for you?"

"N-No, that's okay." The proposition is unexpected. And with the way you're feeling, dangerous. "I got what I came for. I had fun. Thank you, too." You rise to standing, weathering the crack of your joints as you go. "I'll just clean up quickly."

Jimin is already towelling down his own, comparatively unscathed body. He stands, too, though with far more grace. As he feeds himself back into his too-tight jeans, he extends the towel to you. "If you're sure." A tinge of something colours his tone. Disappointment? "Maybe next time."

Next time?

Jimin's semen begins to crust on your chin. The towel twists in your hands. "What?"

There's an indifference to his body language that doesn’t quite ring true. He shrugs on his jacket. "Yeah. Next time, right?"

For several seconds you both stand there, locked in an unsaid exchange. The air is pregnant with meaning.

The door flies open.

"There you are!" In Jungkook strolls, bleary-eyed and with no clear bearing on his surroundings. "Someone said they saw you come in here." His gaze is hazy as it lands on you and your poorly shielded tits. And then it’s on your face again, where Jimin's spunk is heaviest. "Holy shit."

What feels like a century of shame passes, but it's no more than a microsecond before Jimin is slamming the point of his boot into Jungkook's abdomen. "Get the fuck out!" He bellows, octaves deeper than all this past half hour. Masculinity oozes from his squared shoulders and jutted jaw. The hardness is in his eyes, too. They're like steel as they cut Jungkook down, unchanging even as the younger man claws at his gut and stumbles back. "Don't fucking barge in on me again. This ain’t for you to see."

"I-I'm sorry, 'min-hyung." Jungkook slurs his words past comprehension. "C-Call me wh-when yuh wha-wanna split."

Jimin folds his arms. Tucks balled fists inside. "Yeah, now go."

Unfortunately for Jungkook, the gang-leader catches that last, errant look at your naked breasts. And for that he is rewarded with another swift kick; to his retreating backside, this time. Though you can't see him behind the door, you hear the impact of his fall to all-fours and grimace. Jimin's line of sight tracks low. Jungkook must be crawling away. "Go and sober up, you stupid piece of shit. We're going soon."

The door slots back into its frame. Jimin lingers there a little longer than necessary, his head bowed to the panelling. "Uh." Again, he's different. Transformed. Someone more timid stands in Jimin's place. Ruffles the back of his well-tousled hair. "Sorry. He's a dipshit."

"It's okay," you laugh. You have to, because the entire scenario is astounding. "You didn't have to kick him, though. Twice."

Arms criss-crossing his chest, Jimin watches as you wipe away his residue. For some reason, you’re more self-conscious now than when he put it there. "He deserved it. He's an idiot. Idiots don't learn unless you kick them in the ass. I didn't kick him in the balls, at least. And for that, he should be thanking me."

Clearly, your views on appropriate punishment diverge. Jimin inhabits a different world to yours. It's unnerving. And a little exciting, even though it shouldn’t be. "I'll defer to your judgment in his case." Your straps come up and over your shoulders. On inspection, suspicious white stains dot your dress despite your attempts to prevent that. Hopefully everyone is so smashed by this point that they can’t distinguish it from any of their other surroundings. "Okay, I'm gonna go. My dorm's just across from this one."

"I'll walk you. It's not safe." There's a certainty to Jimin's words that speaks of his experience. Ironically, it's probably safer out there while he's tied up in here. "Lots of scumbags out there that will target girls who are alone."

Fully covered, now, you clutch your purse in front of the worst of the splattering. You want to say something, so you do. You feel like you've earned it. "Not you?"

So self-assured, Jimin is. For a moment, though, he isn't. His smile flickers. "Never. I'm not about that. And I'll thrash anyone who is."

The answer pleases you. Diminishes his other activities somewhat. Somewhat. Just enough that you can go home and fuck yourself into a guiltless coma. "Okay. Well, it was fun. Don't worry about walking me. It's literally just across from here and there are still people around. I gotta find my friend first, anyway.”

Another shrug. Then, with the same nonchalance, he offers up his phone to you. "'Kay."

Eyes on him rather than the device, you take it from him. "What's this?" The screen displays a newly created contact. The phone number is blank. The contact name, though?

Litterbug.

It's hard to scoff at it when you love it so much. "What the hell? That's me?"

"Yeah. Gimme your number?" Jimin grins, brazen-faced. The temptation to kiss him is almost insurmountable. "I wanna see you again, litterbug."

You smile, too. Until you don't. "I don't know. I don't think it's a good idea. I didn't plan on anything past this."

If Jimin's shaken by the snub, he hides it masterfully. His smile isn't quite so burnished, though. "Neither did I, but then this happened, and I want it to happen again, ____. Let me show you just what I can do for you."

God, it's tempting. A bite of that apple is worth being cast from Eden. But your heart is weak and liable to entwine far too easily. And he's not the type of man that should occupy space outside of your depraved fantasies. "How many girls with cute pseudonyms do you have on there?" you deflect, knowing well the answer. Hearing it might temper your hopes somewhat.

"I don't give out my actual number to anyone." Jimin doesn't miss a beat of breath. "Only those that matter to me. Or might do," he adds, quieter, losing his bullishness altogether. "But, do what you want." His palm lays flat in expectation of receiving his phone back empty, but you hesitate. Look down at the vacant space. You could fill that.

You want to.

"Okay, there I am." With a flourish of thumbs and a final tap, your name is input and the contract sealed.

The Devil smiles. "Cool." His fingers linger on yours when you return the device. They're soft like charmeuse, and just as expensive. Because this will cost you everything, you're sure. "Can I see you tomorrow? So you can explain to me exactly what it is you just did to my ass?"

Tomorrow? Jimin’s keen. And you’re smiling again. “Sure. I’ll give you a practical demonstration.”

#park jimin #jimin #jimin smut #park jimin smut #jimin scenarios #park jimin scenarios #bts smut #bts scenarios #the devil in his details

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cruezins · 5 years

Text

☣ ; ( KIM TAEHYUNG , 24 , HE/HIM ) coming up next on rebel radio is OPAUL by FREDDIE DREDD . this tune goes out to SIWON RYU . rumor has it they just rolled into town and are fightin’ for the GHOULS . they’re AFFABLE , INQUISITIVE but also AIMLESS , MERCURIAL so watch your backs out there . we wish them the best of luck here in our golded city of light . stay vigilant , stay dirty rock ‘n rollers and we’ll catch you for the next one .

𝐎𝐎𝐂 : hello ! i’m deni and i don’t know what editing is . i use she/her pronouns and live in the gmt+9 timezone . i’m terrible with ooc chats and half the time just want to vibe a connection or plot idea , so please don’t hesitate to throw a half-formed thought at me because i swear i’ll do the same . my discord is gay fairy#6371 . anyway , here is siwon , someone i’ve been work-shopping for a while ! looking forward to writing with you ♡

☣ ; 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇 .

cw : drug mentions ; stop me if you’ve heard this one before------

his dad’s a junkie and he hasn’t seen his mom since some fatcats bought their restaurant for a steal a few years before , but that’s the way of life for a lot of people in the underground . young , bored , and desperate to hear and smell anything that wasn’t the rottenness of his own childhood home , siwon found himself on the streets more nights than not , spray paint in one hand , painting nights in greens and purples until reds and blues chased him away . makes his first steal before he can tie his shoes . creates alliances with the neighborhood kids , sneaks around to watch how the haves live with their pretty , pretty screens and their ugly , ugly words . school isn’t anything special , either , and while siwon can’t remember shit that he reads from a page he can work with his hands . fast and efficient , nimble fingers whether they’re flying across a keyboard or fucking around with some screws . you can make something of yourself , some of his teachers tell him while others can’t stop bitching about homework or tardiness or the way he falls asleep in the middle of class . but what’s siwon supposed to make ? he and his ragtag group of weirdos he calls friends . when he gets older and nights get hungrier , siwon learns to stop relying on the benevolence of neighbors and finds a job --- he’s fast , after all , with a sweet face and wide eyes , makes a helluva getaway after years and years of running .

thieving’s a natural grift . he’d been training for this his whole life . then he catches the eyes of a boss man who isn’t nearly as mad as he should be catching some kid with his wallet in his hands . courier comes next , ferrying messages from a bunch of suits all over the city . siwon never opened the packages , never second guesses the credits that start bloating his account . desperate , he does what he’s told and does it well ------ and that’s the real kicker , isn’t it ? that after a year and some-odd months of dedicated service they leave him high and dry with some bullshit he doesn’t have any involvement with . after years of running , boys in blue finally catch him and he’s left to take the fall of some dumb fuckery , man , and he’s pissed . steaming in jail , it’s a wonder some other gang didn’t get to him first . the longer he sat and talked with that ghoul member , the more he grew to despise the rich , the ones who left him to rot after all the shit he did for them . what was even the point anymore ? dog eat dog kind of bullshit , no sense of loyalty or shit anywhere . the law and all that money was out to get him from the beginning and siwon had enough of it . a few months locked up but he learned and leaned and learned , only able to get out on a technicality . the second he stepped back out into the sun , siwon followed the map given to him and signed up for the ghouls . city of light be damned . the only lights he wants to see are flames eating this hellhole alive .

☣ ; 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 .

➤ full name. ryu si-won ➤ date of birth. january 29th ➤ hometown. city of light ➤ gender. cis male ➤ affiliation. ghouls ➤ primary occupation. drug runner , pickpocket ➤ secondary occupation. network manager at an internet cafe

➤ sexual attraction. pansexual ➤ romantic attraction. panromantic ➤ character alignment. chaotic neutral ➤ personality type. enfp ➤ temperament. sanguine ➤ wants. power , family

stands around 5′11 . broad shoulders , slim hips . floppy , messy hair and sun browned skin . half legs . a few pieces of silver in his ears and a small hoop on his bottom lip . dresses somewhere between a washed up rockstar , your college weed dealer , and a miami vice reject . style’s a whim with a closet’s chaotic mix of anything he thrifts or patches together . most of the time he’s sporting cuffed jeans , vintage blouse , a denim jacket or tweed blazer and thick ass boots . keeps all that hair back with a bandanna or a headband , hair ties on his wrist . nothing in his closet’s technically new and he loves looking for a bargain steal —— or simply just a steal . likes colors just as much as he likes his neutrals . wears a black air filtration mask and fingerless gloves . considers his floral button-up shirts fancy material and his trousers cut off at the ankles . likes the smell of old leather and the breathing of fringe on a jacket , the weight of heavy rings on his fingers and sunglasses swooped low on his nose . wears a monocle because he can’t be fucked with reading glasses . his hair’s been every color of the rainbow and he’s always changing it up thanks to temporary dye .

☣ ; 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 .

hustles at arcade halls , scarfs down ramen and burritos like they’re gonna disappear , looks as comfortable in a dark , dirty alley as he does standing under all those lights in the neon district . pockets full of candy and a lollipop between his lips . likes cheap beer and cigarettes , fast talking and smooth smiles . gets up when the sun goes down . who knows if he ever gets a full night’s sleep , but you can find him taking a nap just about anywhere . seems to live for the dark hours and stays busy as a bee , at the internet cafe one moment and grabbing fried cheese sticks in the next before crossing the bridge to watch the street races and venturing to the tunnels for the fighting rings . complains about being broke but puts down bets faster than anyone . lives for the feeling of wind in his hair so the window of his top-floor one bedroom shit hole stays open all the time . feels the rain on his skin , plays with matches . learned how to assemble a gun in less than sixty seconds and stays packing nowadays though he can’t really shoot for shit . spray paints boobs on the sides of government buildings and dicks on malls . looks like an angel under all those holographic lights .

rides a motorbike and his skateboard . can do crazy math in his head and spot fake bills with incredible accuracy . can barely stand to sit still , always moving except when there’s a computer screen in front of him . gets addicted to things so easily it’s scary --- people , food , liquor , feelings . craves that intimacy , craves that closeness that’s always been denied to him . has a loud as fuck laugh and a love for sneaking into places where he doesn’t belong . catches extra cash on the side by fixing up broken-down machines and can figure his way around a motor with a bit of elbow grease . still sees his family . not as much as a good son would , but he sends cash when he can and looks after his younger sister , makes sure she stays well and clean . they don’t know half of what he’s gotten up to since he was let out of prison , but they might have some idea --- after all , who’d pay a crooked boy with a record as well as he seems to be ? when the sun starts to come up and he crashes into bed , siwon stares out the window and thinks about how in another world , or in another time he probably could’ve been something . could’ve made something great . but for now he’s just got a whole lot of anger , raw like a fresh wound he can’t stop picking at .

☣ ; 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ?

➤ bonds. my loyalty to my friends is unwavering ; i owe everything to my mentor --- a horrible person who’s rotting in jail somewhere ; i fleeced the wrong person and must work to ensure this individual never crosses paths with me . ➤ flaws. once i pick a goal , i become obsessed with it to the detriment of everything else in my life ; when I see something valuable , i can't think about anything but how to steal it ; i have a weakness for the vices of the city .

he’s friendly , but he doesn’t make friends easily --- the ones that he has made , he’d do anything for . because that’s how he’s gotten this far , right ? all those people who looked after him when others tried to stomp him out . he’s still close with his teen friends who threw a few grifts with him , gaming buddies that he knows only through a screen . little escapes from all the other bullshit going on in the world . even though he isn’t a club guy , he runs into more than a few faces on his rounds . maybe they’re bad influences or sweethearts who help that touch starved affliction that comes from living in a city so wired . on the flip side , there’s some enemies --- competitors in the runner world , antagonists he meets at the races or rings for whatever reason ( insane bets make tempers run hot , who knows when they’ll flare for good and siwon’s learning the hard way how to keep his mouth shut ) . he’s fixed up a few cars or weapons for people recently because he misses working with his hands . y’know , making nice . then there’s people he’s caught in a crossfire with , where they’ve met something nasty one too many times before over turf , territory and clients . a newer face to the ghouls , he’s bugged someone into mentoring him , and gone on a few runs with someone he loves to call a coworker .

eager to prove himself as more than a green kid with a keyboard and an eye for detail , find him cutting deals and making trades in smokey barbecue houses , hole-in-the wall ramen shops or by taco tents . a full bellied class of clients are happy clients in his opinion , and siwon isn’t above not making deals with the other groups who’s names aren’t violent delights . speaking of which --- there are definitely some skeletons there he aims to confront , some old demons to fight from that class of people that fucked him over . there’s an ex lover in there somewhere , probably met in that pre-prison childhood phase when he mingled past class lines more ( ~1.5-2 years ago ) . someone he’s healthily fearful of for whatever reason , and maybe a vendetta against the family that scammed his parents out of their business and basically sent his life spiraling . there’s someone who isn’t what they seem --- he doesn’t know who they really are , and maybe they don’t know who he is , either . they’ll learn eventually . someone he’s protective over , someone who protects him in ways he doesn’t even know , and those he looks after because they grew up on the same side . desperate for connection , desperate for a place , he finds it all in heaven and hell .

#neongraves:intro #. 𝐒𝐈𝐖𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐘𝐔 ➤ DEVELOPMENT .#this is A Lot #but i had so many notes for myself #let's see how this pans #chaos reigns always

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theninjazebra · 5 years

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rest of my Animal Kingdom fanart can be found Here

Part 4: Renn in my fic series - In the Wake (or In Which The Codys Kinda Hang Out And Take Turns Having Messy Breakdowns). got another 4 parts planned after this.

part 1 Pope

part 2 Deran

part 3 Craig

fic under cut -

Renn.

A house with a baby is never fully asleep. A house with a coke dealer and born thief is never fully asleep either, but in this new life Renn finds she doesn’t startle awake anymore, never too deeply asleep to be unable to smoothly tap back into wakefulness.

She can hear voices coming from the main bathroom down the hall. She can hear Nick doing his soft baby breathing in the cot, and Craig isn’t in the room. Deran must be home.

She contemplates going back to sleep, but a check of her phone says Nick will be up for a feed again soon. Renn sighs, gets out of bed, finds a clean enough hoodie of Craig’s and walks on cold feet down the hall.

The scene in the bathroom is becoming familiar. Craig trying to wrestle Deran out of dirt, blood, and vomit stained clothes and into the shower, Deran hopelessly insensible, possibly crying, slurring dark shit when he could even form words. It used to be the other way round, Deran never really having an appetite for this kind of oblivion, preferring pure adrenaline and a bit of weed to soften the crash. There was a time, when he was .. 13? 14? he would get shitfaced on whatever he could get his little grubby hands on and Renn would help Craig wrestle him home. Hopefully this too would pass.

“Hey, I’m going to feed Nick in sec, you need anything?”

Craig startles, looks up. “Nah, we’re good. Sorry about this. Again.” Deran takes this opportunity to lurch forward and split his lip on the edge of the bath, feeling nothing. Craig swears.

“It’s ok.” She means it.

***

She ends up having to walk her baby up and down the road in front of the house to get him to settle again. Craig swears by it, says the sea air has healing properties.

Renn still can’t quite believe she’s playing house and babies with Craig Cody. And that she doesn’t hate it, that he isn’t fucking it up so far. Oh, it isn’t easy, and she has a hefty rainy day fund stashed away for the second it doesn’t work out. Nights like these, with fussing babies and little brothers keep them up, it’s tempting. Cut, run again. See if her cousins have any work going.

But she won’t. Can’t. There isn’t a word for what Craig is for her. Never safe or stable enough to last long, but always a shelter when she’s needed it most. And though they had never been exclusive, he is the only man she’s fucked in years. Who knows, maybe this will be different. A baby, no more Smurf…

Nick finally stopped grizzling, and they headed inside. The house is quiet when she gets in, Deran curled up unconscious on the couch in a t-shirt four sizes too big. Craig is still awake when she slips back into bed.

“You were right, that sea air really does the trick.”

Craig hums and curl around her. “Yeah, he loves the ocean. Can’t wait to get him on a board.”

“Not long before he can have his first swim.” An idea strikes her, she turns in Craig’s arms and looks up at his closed eyes. “We should do something for it. It’s almost like a baptism or a christening or something, right? But better. I don’t want him in some church, and your family isn’t religious, are they?”

Craig smiles, open one eye. “Fuck no. I mean, Pope maybe, when he feels like it. But I like your idea. Will be nice to have a celebration.”

“We could invite my cousins. They haven’t met Baby Nicolas yet.” Craig gives her a look.

“They know he’s my baby?”

“I don’t think they’ll be surprised. They were never going to hurt you. I’ll never hurt you, baby.”

Craig buries his face in her hair. His breath deepens and she’s just starting to drift back to the shallow sleep that’s become her new normal when Craig mumbles into her hair, “I’m worried about him. It’s getting worse. I don’t know what to do.”

“Yeah. He’ll pull through again. You’re doing fine.”

“Why do you put up with all our stupid Cody shit? You just had a baby.”

“It’s fine. I kinda expected it would be hard for him.”

Craig pulls back, suspicious. “Why?”

“Craig, I know, ok?” Craig frowns, is clearly trying to work out how to lie to her face, but Renn stares him down. She feels like a monster when Craig buries his face in her hair again, goes very still, and then a fine tremor starts in his hands and then down long limbs, to his whole body. He isn’t crying, but she thinks it’s because he doesn’t know how to cry about this. This dark, hopeless thing he’s carried for his brother for so long.

She remembers, like it’s a photograph, Craig’s face that night.

Renn usually tried to avoid the Cody house, but her living situation had been in flux for a couple days and crashing there had been the easiest option. She just hid in Craig’s room, avoided the rest of the family and Craig brought her food. Just like old times.

It had been very late, or very early, after a nice day. Lazy and hot, too buzzed and fucked to be worried about much. She had his complete attention, both of them lost in a warm dark world of their own.

They hadn’t heard the door to the shared bathroom open over the music - not loud, but enough to mask most noise elsewhere in the house. But she had heard Deran, calling to Craig, standing still and not-right in the doorway, half hidden in shadow. His voice had sounded… she didn’t know. Wrong.

The effect on Craig wasn’t like anything Renn had seen before or since. Suddenly sober and closed off from her, solely intent on getting her out and shielding Deran from her sight. The only clear look at Craig’s face she had was of soul deep heartbreak and despair.

Everyone had an opinion on how Smurf was with her sons, but Renn had seen it. She had spent the next two nights sleeping in a friend’s van and Craig had avoided her for months after.

“I don’t think you remember, but that time I stayed at the house…”

“I remember. You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“Yeah.”

Craig didn’t save her from her mother’s house, but did provide enough to keep her going until her Uncle Nicolas could come, sweep her up, give her shelter and a means to never need her mother again. And here in the dark, smothered in the Cody’s secrets, she couldn’t be more grateful.

***

Renn usually woke first to enjoy the secret morning time to herself. Just enough time for coffee and the ever present roar of the surf. Go through the night’s messages, work out who wants what when and plan the day accordingly.

The couch is empty when she gets up, but a groan and the sound of the toilet flushing means Deran has stuck around this morning. The look on his face when he emerges says that he won’t be ready to go anywhere for a while yet.

Renn makes herself some coffee, sets some water in front of Deran where he’s slumped at the kitchen counter avoiding her gaze. She gets why he’s embarrassed, but really, come on, they’d both seen so much worse from Craig over the years. Fuck, Deran had probably seen worse from her.

“So Craig and I talked last night. Think we might do a thing for Nick’s first swim in the ocean.”

Deran cracked an eyelid at that. “Yeah? Like what?”

“Dunno yet. Just invite people down to the beach. Get him his first wet suit. Probably want a party after. Wanna host?”

Deran looks confused, not ready yet to think. “My house isn’t that big…”

Renn fails to not smile. “No, at your bar, dumbass.”

“Oh. Yeah, that sounds cool.”

At that moment the bedroom door opens and Craig staggers past with an indignant Baby Nick in one arm, retrieves more towels from the hall closet and shuffles back to the en suite, muttering darkly about showers needing to change the sheets in the crib.

Deran groans and slinks back to the bathroom.

Renn pours herself another coffee and pulls out her phone. She’s going to need to work out a date for this thing first.

#my art #animal kingdom #animal kingdom tnt #Renn #sorry for shit writing #most if this was written and proofed after midnight #and i'm very bad at picking up mistakes #in the wake

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mundvngus · 6 years

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“i pour alcohol into the gaping hole inside my chest. it does not heal. not today. maybe tomorrow.”

MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER is 26 years old and works as a THIEF/DRUG DEALER/ALL ROUND CRIMINAL and is loyal to THE OOTP they were an RAVENCLAW and are a HALFBLOODED. HE look like FRANK DILLANE.

CHARACTER PARALLELS: nick miller ( new girl ), creed bratton ( the office ), doug judy ( b99 ), jason mendoza ( the good place ), chris miles ( skins ), jesper fahey ( six of crows ), scott lang ( marvel ), lillian ( unbreakable kimmy schmidt ). AESTHETIC: scuffed knees, flicking a lighter over and over again, flowery shirts, walking in the middle of the street after midnight, a body covered in bruises and tattoos, naming stray cats, falling asleep on the subway, watching smoke curl against a starless, black nightsky, throwing empty beer bottles against a wall. LINKS: stats. pinboard. character tag. HEADS UP: there’s quite a bit of talk about drugs and stuff in here -- as well as shitty parenting. i trigger warned it before every bullet point tho!

history

ciannán o’donnell was a flighty man, one of many relationships and flings and little loyalty, and so his affair with kiyana fletcher did not last long. when she told him he was pregnant, he moved on to a different woman, and kiyana had her son alone, with her sister on her side. dung was born to a lonely and angry woman, who had fallen for the charms and winks of a crooked criminal who spoke empty promises and lied for a living.

he grew up with his mum – a halfblooded witch and by far his favourite person in the world – in cork, attending muggle school there. he knew who his dad was, but wasn’t quite sure how to feel about —- EVERYONE knew who his dad was, a well known muggle criminal and dealer, a name notorious among the older kids at his school, a father to many. he’s like the robert baratheon of ireland, to be honest, planting bastards on every corner. lol. knowing he was one of his many kids was hard; he’d never met any of them, but he knew they were there, from his mother, from his aunt.

he met his dad for the first time at age seven, and was nothing but impressed. his dad showered him with gifts, his mum watching with a furious look on her face but biting her tongue. that moment was a switch for dung; he felt the need to impress his dad. he stole some sweets from a store on his way home from school a week later, fished some pennies out of the pockets of his classmates a few months later. when he phoned his dad to tell him, his laugh was warm and filled with life.

his relationship with his dad got better as his behaviour got worse. the thrill of stealing, of doing stuff he wasn’t supposed to, lit him not only on fire because ti was exciting, but also because he knew his dad would adore it. his mother’s worried questions and look only drove him to his dad, who liked it when he did bad things, who didn’t try and ground him ( looking back, he knows that that was stupid, but back then he was blindsided, obsessed with the mystery that was his dad ).

abuse tw // his father was abusive. period. he’s a wicked man, who has blood on his hands of people who were in his way, and he doesn’t love anything but winning and money and the high of victory. he manipulated mundungus, pushed him towards bad behaviours, showed him his bad sides when he was disappointed. most of the abuse was mental and verbal, but sometimes it turned physical as well. it’s toxic. mundungus hasn’t allowed himself to admit that to himself yet, though. end of tw //

drugs, smoking, alcohol tw // attending hogwarts was good, at first. it forced him to focus on other stuff, for a while, but his summers and winter breaks forced him back into his old behaviours. his world was split; at hogwarts, he was a loud and lively, but still a pretty good student, while at home he fell deeper and deeper in crossing lines and boundaries. he lit his first cigarette at age ten, drank his first beer at age twelve, smoked his first spliff when he turned fourteen, as a present from his dad. end of tws //

hogwarts also meant friends --- the dick squad was founded here, consisting out of dorcas, doc, daisy and dung himself. these three people meant everything to mundungus, to be honest, let him see the ways people could love each other without conditions or out of obligation. they were chaotic and messy and wrecked havoc on the castle but --- damn it, they’re his family, and he’d die for them.

drugs tw // it was in his later years that these two worlds started overlapping. his dad trusted him with a bit of produce, gave him some weed to sell at hogwarts after his christmas break in his fifth year, and it was a success. ever since, dung became pretty well known for selling a little bit of this and that. a lively spirit, he always did so with a bit of a grin, but he was also pretty fond of the stuff he sold, indulging quite a lot when business was a little slow.

he also stole a lot from rich purebloods, because fuck them

i guess ... this is where the messiness really did ... explode? mundungus liked the taste of drugs. he liked the taste of doing illegal things. he liked the taste of earning money and feeling powerful and he loved it all. he grew more dependent on alcohol and drugs. he wanted to flee, too. the world was a nasty fucking place and he knew that all too well and, fucking hell, don’t blame him for wanting to escape every now and then. end of tw //

he graduated at one point which? is a miracle? i think they just wanted to get rid of him tbh!!! but yeah, dung did Try a little at hogwarts, as he respects the hell out of dumbledore and stuff, but he was still not a good student. after graduation, he kind of joined up with his dad and started doing some illegal stuff in the wizarding world too, because why the hell not? he was good at it.

dung had no plans to join either side of the war, tbh, even though he’ss v much against the de’s cause. he’s a self serving kid!! but then he kind of got in a nasty situation where both alastor and dumbledore got him out of trouble ( that might have sent him to fucking azkaban, what a fucking idiot ) and well, dung might be a shithead, but he felt indebted to them and kind of rolled into the order.

and well --- the order was a newfound family. messy, of course, and full of chaos and distrust, but --- heck, mundungus found a lot of people there that he did end up feeling loyal to. and while that was scary, as mundungus prefers being a lone wolf ( or raccoon ), it was a kind of wonderful, too?

and -- get this -- he was an asset. his ties to the criminal world, with his ability to steal and sneak around like less than a shadow. he was useful, and mundungus fletcher had never been useful in his life before. what a weird feeling that was --- oh boy, but it was good, too. mundungus likes it. he could build on that and improve greatly and he has fucking potential to become a better person. he really wants to, too, because he feels incredibly indebted to alastor and dumbledore akjfsdf.

dont hold your breath, tho, he’s probably not going to improve a lot

mundungus doesn’t technically have a home. his mother’s place is his home, i guess, but he’s not there a lot. he crashes on couches, breaks into muggle homes of people who are on vacation ( always leaving it the way it was, but with a bit of a smell ) or in a squatter’s home, which he thinks is an iconic scene.

drugs tw // besides his work for the order, mundungus does a bit of this and that. he still works for his dad a little, dealing some drugs for him, but he’s mostly focused on making his way through the wizarding world’s underground and making a name for himself there. he sees no reason to try and find another career, finds the things he does now thrilling and exciting and honestly, he doesn’t have much of a way out.

abuse tw // his dad has a hold on him. sure, he can drop his criminal activities in the wizarding world, but when it comes to his dad's business, he’s stuck. his father isn’t going to allow him to walk away – that much should be obvious. he knows too much. and then there’s mundungus’ wish to always please his father, and his father’s endless dissatisfaction. it’s messy and bad and toxic and we all hate mundungus’ dad. end of tws //

addiction tw // what it all boils down to is that mundungus is chaotic. he never stays in one place too long, doesn’t have a consistent job, strays away from commitment and stability. he’s addicted, to drugs, alcohol, cigarettes and adrenaline. he’s self serving, in the end. he’s seeking for validation, deep down, and endlessly scared of all that’s happening around him. he’s alone, dreadfully so, but that’s the way he prefers it. end of tw //

personality & tidbits

mundungus is a lowkey tortured artist. he writes awful poetry and draws a lot and he loves painting if he has time. he’s in love with the beat generation, mostly. he’s very private about this kind of stuff, though. it's his thing, and his alone. some of his tattoos he’s designed himself tho!! and we love and stan!!

his stance in the war is something that’s … pretty unknown, i imagine. mundungus benefits from appearing neutral, has connections in both the pureblood and muggle world. he likes to come across as that shady dude who will do whatever you ask of him for the right price.

can usually be spotted wearing The Coat, a rly expensive, vintage long coat that he once stole of a pureblood. he’s enlarged the pockets with some handy spellwork and pretty much carries everything he owes in there, like his produce and his money and his second pair of shoes and his art supplies and probably some random trash.

is a bit smelly, so give him a shower

most likely to show up at your doorstep at 5am with some flowers and a shit eating grin, saying “can i sleep on yer couch?”

mundungus LOVES animals but doesn’t have any because of his lack of a home. his mother has a dog, though, and he loves that dog. he also feels v connected to stray dogs and cats and can be found petting and feeding them a lot.

hates himself deeply, doesn’t think he’s worth anyone’s time (despite constantly demanding it), has a low opinion of himself. he doesn’t get it if people care about him, to be honest? the only person he can properly accept it of is his mother, but even that’s complicated.

plots!

CUSTOMERS // a simple, easy connection! basically someone who buys drugs (also does like medicinal stuff? but also drugs-drugs) of mundungus or has paid him (good money) to nick something for them. he’s pretty down to do most things as long as it’s for the right price!

PARTY FRIENDS // dung likes getting wasted / high / fucked up and having a good ol’ time with people. sure, he’s done it alone, but he prefers doing it with others. there’s a lot of room for diff options here?

YOU SAVED ME ONCE // ( alcohol tw ) a plot where someone got dung to a hospital when he got alcohol poisoning and basically saved his life?? meaning?? mundungus feels indebted and he hates that but!! he’s gonna pay your char back! he promises!

UNDER PRESSURE // i imagine that dung has some ties to de’s as well bc of his less than legal work so? maybe some death eater could try and put some pressure on him? get him to do some dirty job bc it’d not matter if he died … etc etc

UNDER PRESSURE 2.0 // on the other hand, i bet some order members are like 👀 at dung? this one’d be for order members who’re like … making sure that dung is still loyal and here?? making him feel a bit?? queasy??

ONE NIGHT STANDS // dung isnt rly good at romance but he’s good at no strings attached sex. this’d work in a lot of ways and w a lot of characters so imma keep this p open! dung is bi btw!!

THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY // your average angsty exes plot? mundungus is flighty, and while he does feel feelings for people, he’s not … good with commitment. this’d be a relationship that he broke off bc he got scared or ?? something else??

COUCHES // i need some couches that mundungus can crash on adkjfhsdf he needs a place ... to sleep. he will pay you back with drugs or ... stolen goods? money? something that he didnt acquire lawfully

#maraudrs:intro

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