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iddybiddysquish · 6 months

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Fate - Chapter Seven

Masterlist

Plot Description: What would happen if someone with Dissociative Identity Disorder (multiple personalities; writer has DID themselves) got a god of death as another personality? Follows the plot of the anime and manga mixed including dialogue directly from the anime where appropriate. Character x cast of death note

Very minor self insert/OC that I've made into a vague reader insert that involves the reader being concerningly intertwined with Kira and his happenings against their will and seemingly against fate.

Fandom: Death Note

Gender: Female

Warnings: Dark and triggering content regarding death, suicide, mental illness and mentions of rape (character history - no rape in the story). Making out is described. Will add more as I progress the story.

Notes: Uploading early bitches! <3

Feedback is welcomed and I hope you have a good time reading!

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- December 28 -

Though I had slept through the remainder of yesterday as well as the entire night with limited wakefulness, I still managed to sleep in till the afternoon. In fact, despite the ample rest, when I realised my clock was still an hour ahead, I couldn’t even muster up the energy to groan, settling for a quiet, though heavy, sigh.

As I rose up I yelped lightly, feeling something stick in my thigh. As I felt for it, I frowned at my white notebook dangling on the edge of the bed. It was then I realised, as I picked up the perpetrator, that it was my pen and I had written something before I went to bed.

Though I was curious as to what, I concluded self care was more important and that I needed to eat something and wake up before looking at it.

‘Besides, I should prepare myself.’ I noted as I stood and stretched, ‘With a psychotic break such as yesterday, whatever I put is likely to be triggering…’

Baring that in mind, I spent the next few hours eating breakfast and snacks whilst watching some comfort TV. However, the more I started to almost ‘wake up’ from my dissociative daze, the more I struggled to just sit and relax.

‘It was so real…’ I frowned, ‘That man dying… I thought it was really happening…’

I gulped at the memory. Though it was iffy, I could still see him falling and the distinct way his face seemed to be frozen in place, in the same look he held as he died in my hands. I remember the police and I remember running as though it was for dear life.

‘I don’t remember anything else.’ I realised, ‘Just him, me and the police. I don’t remember even getting off the train. It was like I just teleported by his side…’ I shook my head, attempting to let go of the thoughts, but something niggled at me in a way I didn’t like.

Fed up, I gave in and fished for my book, turning the news on as I did. However, as I started to search for the page I had written in, I froze.

“-strikes again. As mentioned yesterday two more young men were added to the list of victims by the person of which we all refer to as Kira.” I blanked at those words. My mouth refused to be still as it opened and closed in shock. I must have looked like a fish, my gaze unwavering from the TV.

“Though one of the men remains unidentified, the other was clarified this morning to be Yonegoro Nusumi, a man who was recently acquitted from several rape charges, each from different women, due to a lack of evidence.” As soon as I saw the face of the man I had passed being wheeled away in a body bag, I felt sick.

‘It wasn’t a psychotic break…’ I shakily concluded, ‘Which means that Raye Penber did die. The FBI agent died.’ I bit my lip, shaking my head as I attempted to pull myself together so as to prevent another break down.

As though I were on a time constraint I snatched at the notebook I had kept and sped through the pages in search for my latest entry. I was desperate for answers and with the lack of details my memory was providing, I hoped to high hell that this entry held something of use, and not just a child-like recount of feelings or something else equally as useless to the case.

Trains are scary. I’ve been on trains a lot, but these trains are different. I haven’t been on a train at my age alone. Plus, everyone is dressed all fancy and look super serious. I don’t like serious, not like this.

I was about to skip ahead when I saw the next line, which was the only thing that kept my attention on this particular part of the writing.

There was one man that was particularly strange, though. He had a brief case just like my daddy, so I thought he was a contractor, just like daddy. But he had a weird phone-like thing in his pocket he kept talking into. First he talked into the thingy and said something about twelve people in teams of four. I don’t know who he was talking to, but because I saw the walkie talkie, then I thought he was a spy and thought he was super cool.

It’s rude to stare, so I didn’t look at him the whole time. But I did keep looking back.

After a few moments from his answer, he opened the envelope and there were lots of plain pieces of paper, though I only saw that when he put them on his lap. I thought maybe he has special contact lenses that lets him see special writing or something.

After a few moments he began to write something at the top and then he took out his laptop. From there, he looked quite shocked, which was surprising because he had been so calm since I saw him.

After a few moments, he began to write much more down, copying things from his laptop and covering every part of the pages. I wondered if it was a list of hitmen that he had to take down, or a list of people he had to save, and that he had an earpiece that his superior was talking to him through, which was why he kept pausing awkwardly before doing things. I then wondered if he was new and that this was one of his first missions!

I couldn’t help but wish him luck in my head.

He stopped doing things for a while, after putting the envelope up where the bags usually go just before we left the train, so I decided to look out the window and listen to my music. It was really fun because some of the clouds looked a bit like things I had seen before.

I skipped ahead, noting that I had started to write down all the animals and various things I was able to make out at that point in time.

‘Young me has an amazing memory…’ I observed before deadpanning, ‘I probably still would if I wasn’t so out of it constantly.’

It was time to get off the train, but there were lots of people, so I waited. Whilst I did, the spy man began to leave without his envelope. It confused me, and made me wonder if he had forgotten. I was about to tell him about it, but then I realised he must have been doing business with another spy! I thought it was so cool that it was happening to me!

But then the man fell over, outside the train. It took me a bit of time to realise he was in danger. I was taught CPR at school and by my friend, so I knew what to do to the man. I even shoved past someone in a grey and orange hoodie and black beanie hat without saying sorry, which I feel bad for.

But when I went to him he turned onto his tummy, which meant I couldn’t reach his chest. I tried to turn him over, but I was too weak. He kept stretching his hand out to the train, but when I looked up all I saw was the blur of the man I had bumped into and the train as it moved.

I immediately pushed on his chest. When I reached thirty, I blew air into his lungs whilst holding his nose closed. Then I saw his badge and I almost stopped pushing on his chest, because I was right! He was with the FBI!

It was then I realised he was the man on the bus who was nice to me when I was hurt! Which means he must definitely be a good man who is fighting the baddies like Kira!

I know that FBI agents are super important, especially with a killer like Kira on the loose. So I had to save him.

I think I did about three or four amounts of thirty presses altogether before the police came. I was getting sad and tired because the man wasn’t responding and I didn’t know why. Eventually the doctors came and said he had died.

I cried and cried and cried. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like a failure.

So I ran to Mono. Mono told me I did a good job when I told him what happened, but it didn’t make me feel better because the man was still dead.

I couldn’t save him. And now we’re all going to die because of Kira, because I used to steal things because Cornelius said it was okay.

I have to find Kira and bring him to justice! Not to just save other people, but to save the friends I created in my head. They didn’t ask to be put in my body, and they don’t deserve to die because of me and Cornelius liking bad things.

I blinked as I noted tears had begun to fall from my eyes and onto the last page. I wasn’t sure what part sealed the deal in the form of floods of tears, but I knew smol me, as I call her, was correct - they don’t deserve to die.

‘Kira won’t come after me because of what smol me said; I was never caught, never mind prosecuted.’ I bit my lip, ‘However, that FBI agent died, which only solidifies my theory that he was following Kira, given the method of death.’ I let out a shaky breath.

“If Kira finds out who I am, either through any information I give the police, or based on having been at two major events in relation to Kira, then I am at a huge risk…” After a few moments I had made my choice.

‘I’m already at risk for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, so I might as well continue as I am.’ I concluded, before asserting, ‘Because no one really deserves to die. Not like this.’ with a firm nod.

Quickly I got out an A4 piece of plain paper and began to scribble what I knew in three separate categories: bus and train before adding a line underneath them all, writing adjacent to them, the last category: conclusion.

I started with the first category, as I began to contemplate everything I had written in the notebook.

‘I now know that Raye Penber was most likely watching either Kira, a Kira suspect or someone related to Kira in one way or another.’ I declared, concluding, ‘Therefore it was likely that Kira wasn’t just on the train, but also on that bus…’

“But he didn’t kill that criminal-” I blinked, hand coming to my mouth as realisation coloured my understanding, “But he did die.” I frowned, looking down at my notebook sharply.

“Assuming Kira was the cause of his death, and therefore meaning Kira could decide the method of death,” I took a deep breath, “Kira deliberately chose him to die in an accident-like scenario…?

“Why not just kill him with a heart attack?” I frowned, jotting down my questions in the white notebook, which was acting as my scrap paper for workings out, before I could make semi-final conclusions onto the paper. I began to hesitate, unsure what I was missing, but sure I was onto something.

“Raye ended up dying on the train. Kira obviously either needed something from Raye-” I slapped myself, “That man! He gave a man his ID! That’s how I found out there was an FBI agent on the bus at all.” I immediately began to fidget, my leg tapping against the floor as the thoughts and understanding came in thick and fast.

“Which means that man presumably had his name, now along with his face.” I murmured, lying back against the sofa as I fiddled with a pen, “Was that man Kira, maybe?” I sat up, glaring at nothing in particular as I grew somewhat confused, hunching over as I rested my arms on my knee and my chin on my interconnected hands.

‘It’s possible that Kira wasn’t on the train, and killed him after giving himself some time to reduce the likelihood for anyone to pin the blame on him by not killing him as soon as he found out his name and face, as that would be notably suspicious.’ I mused, biting my tongue a few times before adding with a head tilt, ‘That, or he needed something from Raye, which means the opposite is true - that he was likely on the train.

‘After all, Raye was reaching out to someone as he died.’ I let out a puff of air as I jotted my rambles down, thinking as I went, ‘That could be coincidental - maybe he mistook them for someone he knew, or he was just reaching out in hope as he died. But it would also make sense that Kira was on that train, and that’s who he was reaching out to.’

“After all,” I tapped my pen’s end against my paper for a moment, “he left an envelope on the train. That’s quite weird, considering the walkie talkie - otherwise I would have just thought he had forgotten it…” I frowned, raising a brow before adding a question mark next to my writing, mumbling, “Unless that’s what he was told to do, for that very reason…?” I gave a humph and blew out some air before reclining back in my seat, staring up at my ceiling for a few moments.

“It’s a long shot,” I began out of the blue and not even sure where I, myself, was going, “but what if Kira had apprehended him? Blackmailed him into giving Kira whatever it was he wanted, and when he was done with him, killed him to remove any loose ends?” I hummed, tapping my lip.

“But what about the other man who died?” I blinked, looking around as I calibrated in my head whose voice that was as they continued, “Was that coincidental? That he was right there?” I relaxed as I noted it to be Amelia. I smiled, noting we hadn’t talked in a while, but listened diligently as she continued, “After all, Raye got on the exact same train as us, from the exact same station - didn’t he get on right before we did?” I hummed in agreement.

“Indeed, he did.” I confirmed as I considered her input with curiosity, “Going on your theory, it might even be possible that he killed the rapist in order to prove that he was Kira.”

“And from there, threatened him to go along with his wishes?” she hummed, “Maybe Kira gave him the envelope, as a means to get whatever it was he wanted from Raye without any trace, say as there would be through emails and the like.” I blinked, nodding slowly as I processed her words.

‘I hadn’t thought quite that ahead on that point,’ I conceded, ‘But she’s right.’

“Also,” she began again, bringing my attention back to her, my eyes darting towards the empty space she occupied in my mind, “If Kira was on the train, and was the man that Raye reached towards, then then you bumped into Kira as you left the train.” I gulped, cringing at the idea, before confirming her point aloud.

“In other words,” I began, “We know Kira is a man, taller than I by a fair amount, and likely owns a grey and orange hoodie and black beanie.”

Hearing no further ideas from ‘Mia, I immediately wrote out my findings, which, as I read over them, I felt satisfied.

~ Raye Penber was watching Kira, a Kira suspect or a suspect related to Kira

~ Raye was pointing towards the doors as he died; his killer?

~ I saw the same colours in the same arrangement when I looked back at the train doors as I did to the man I walked into.

~ This was who Raye was looking at

~ If so, Kira was on the train the whole time

~ I had touched Kira

~ If so, Kira had worn a grey and orange hoodie and black beanie. Hits is a man taller than 5' 5"

‘Short but blunt, just as they need to be.’ I approved, though looking back over them made me pause for a moment. I begin to contemplate Raye’s behaviour on the train, once again, with a deep frown. Almost instantly, I found myself flicking through the notebook for the millionth time before going back over and re-analysed the diary entry, scrutinising anything related to Raye’s actions.

‘Raye seemed as normal as I could possibly imagine, given I don’t know him personally.’ I mused, ‘But that being said, he only seemed to act on movements after long pauses.’ I stretched, body sore and aching as I attempted to bring blood supply back to my legs by standing. From there I found myself pacing slowly around my coffee table, messily but controlled as I let my legs move in an arc ahead of the other.

“After all, he came on with an envelope, of which he left on the train before leaving, and, on it, were scribbles that required him to pay attention to his laptop directly-’

“Maybe smol me was right.” I cursed, “There was two-way communication, which, undoubtedly, would require Kira to be nearby and, therefore, on that train.” I bit my lip, putting my hands in my pockets as my pace turned less silly and faster, “After all, Kira needed something from Raye; why else would he bother risking his cover being blown?’ I paused, falling onto the sofa with some heavy words.

‘Damn.’ I cursed again, ‘I should have grabbed that envelope…’

Pushing that useless thought aside, I grabbed my notebook and began to scribble my own ideas down, again, as I continued to speak aloud.

“All of that aside,” I stressed, bitterly, “the only thing that Raye mentioned was about other people, specifically twelve people in teams of four.” I raised a brow, “The only thing he could possibly be referring to, that would also interest Kira, are other agents, FBI or otherwise.” I leant back, a small smirk adorning my lips, “I would imagine that that might put a fire under your ass.

“After all, clearly one FBI agent was troubling enough; imagine having a whole gaggle of them interfering in your life? I don’t think he had any choice but to be so bold.” I laughed.

However, after a moment I paused mid-laugh, my features falling into a firm frown.

‘If Raye had this information, then maybe Kira knew he did and was using him to get to the other agents?’ I shook my head, ‘Why the hell would Raye have that information in the first place-’ I practically choked on my saliva as a possibility dawned on me, forcing my heart to skip a beat, ‘How did he find out that he was being followed by an FBI agent in the first place? Maybe he already knew there were other agents, just not enough details to kill-’ I cursed, loudly.

“He’s going to kill the twelve agents…” I shook my head, dragging my hand over my face as I gave a shaky breath, “Man, Kira is well informed.” I let my hands fall, my gaze becoming glued to my notebook as my eyes fell down from looking at the wall ahead of me. I gulped.

‘Either he’s got some access to police records, or has someone who is leaking it for him, because the FBI is about as secretive as it gets.’ I paused, frowning as I demurred, ‘Even if he was on the inside, somehow, even by proxy, surely the police would know… right?’ I groaned, head falling into my hands again as I took that notebook back into my hands and wrote my latest thoughts back into the book, adding my final questions to the conclusion section.

~ Raye acted weird on the train

~ Raye spoke into a receiver, mentioning ‘twelve people in teams of four’

~ Kira already knew about these people, but not enough to do anything about them - motive?

~ Raye must have also had some way to listen to the person on the other end of the receiver

~ Raye wrote something down before then copying something from his laptop.

~ Raye left the envelope, with the papers he was writing on and the receiver, on the train.

~ Raye died by heart attack

~ What happened to the envelope? Did Kira collect it after Raye left and died?

~ What did Kira want from Raye before he killed him? Something around other people, maybe other agents?

~ Kira needs names and a face to kill, if not also a birthdate and possibly blood type; what use would information on the agents be without any photographs? Could Raye be some sort of medium? Act as a proxy? Did Raye know this?

I couldn’t figure out anymore surrounding the train issues after that. In fact, I almost called it a day - but then I thought back to my earlier thoughts relating to the bus journey and how that criminal died, a heavy frown playing on my features.

‘Kira needed something from Raye, that much is obvious. But he needed something else before he could move to the step that involved the train station.’ my brows furrowed. Confused, I decided to stand and count out what I knew about the bus.

“There was an FBI agent on the bus.” I counted as one, adding a second finger for two as I took a few more steps, “That turned out to be Raye Penber.” I frowned, brain ticking as I slowly added a third finger and counted to three, “But Raye didn’t announce himself. He showed his ID to someone when they asked for proof that he wasn’t involved in the bus jacking-

“Oh my God was that Kira?” I gaped, “Did Kira plan the whole thing just to coax Raye’s name from him?!” I shook my head, “Surely that’s too much to achieve, even for Kira?”

“Why not?” I frowned, raising a brow to motion for her to continue her point, which she did.

“He was so bold on the train and that was only the second act; in order to get to that part, he had to do something in order to get the information he needed. How else would he be able to carry out his plan if he didn’t take chances and begin to explore his options?” I nodded along, humming as I bit my lip.

“‘Exploring’ is definitely the right word.” I echoed, “Because I’m not convinced even he understands the extent to which he is capable. Yet, anyway.” I gulped, adding into my notebook, ‘Kira is experimenting with his power, learning what he is and isn’t capable of. Will require a keener eye whilst looking into which deaths are potentially related.’

From there, I moved back over to the bus section, finishing it - for now, at least.

~ Raye Penber was the FBI agent on the bus

~ He showed his ID to someone on that bus, and it was a man.

~ Kira was on the bus.

~ Was the ‘man’ Kira? How else would Kira have gotten Raye’s identity?

~ He needed Raye’s name at the very least to kill him on the train.

~ FBI ID would, at best, have the name and face. Meaning that Kira doesn't need anything more than a name and face to kill

I began to add, on a separate string of thought, back in the white notebook, underneath what I had just written about Kira’s experimental killings:

~ Kiichiro Osoreda hijacked the bus, had a hallucination that made him run out of the bus and was then hit by a car and killed.

~ Kira knew this was going to happen, using it to aid him in getting Raye’s identity.

~ This means Kiichiro Osoreda knew Kira and planned the attack with him, or, alternatively, Kira had some form of control over Kiichiro Osoreda that forced him to do what Kira had planned.

~ From there, Kiichiro Osoreda’s mode of death: accident, was chosen.

~ Therefore, Kira can choose not just who dies, but how and possibly when.

At that point I was spent. My brain felt like mush and I knew I wasn’t getting any more out of it for at least the rest of the day.

Pushing all thoughts of Kira out of the window, I concentrated on things I needed to get done besides this and, then, anything I wanted to do for fun. Studying, of course, was included in the things I needed to do, along with uploading a new song on my Youtube, in order to continue to generate income. From there, however, I was free to do as I pleased. So I went onto draw and write whilst listening to TV and eating some instant noodles.

A simple but pleasant evening to a mentally strainful day.

‘Exactly what I needed.’

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x-heesy · 11 days

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𝙻 𝚘 𝚟 𝚎 🤍

𝙴𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚝𝚊 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚊-𝚂𝚑𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚍𝚛𝚘 🇷🇺

𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚋𝚢 𝙴𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝙻𝚎 𝙵𝚞𝚗𝚔 🎧

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eleonoraw · 7 months

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For @dnkinktober (also kinktober)

Prompt: Stripping & Dry humping

Title: Need

Words: 503

L and Light spend another night together once when the place at HQ becomes quiet again.

#dnkinktober #death note #lawlight #light yagami #l lawliet #female Light Yagami #fem!Light #l x light #fanfiction #death note fanfiction #my writing #my fic #kinktober2023

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priyalively · 11 months

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LOVE'S DEATHLY NOTE

hey hey!! chapter 8's been published!! enjoy my loves <3

-- TAGS (ignore --

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severeaesthetic · 1 year

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Death Note Masterlist

Nothing yet

#light yagami #death note #mello death note #l lawliet #misa amane #near death note #matt death note #x female reader #x gn reader #x fem!reader #x male reader #x reader

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kooktrash · 4 months

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million dollar darling | jeon jungkook

summary: jeon jungkook is well aware of how privileged he is to have been born into the life he was given. it was glamorous and influential yet close-knit and suffocating, something he thought he wanted to escape from. a trip back home to the circle of wealth and snottiness for his best friend’s million dollar wedding has reminded him of all the reasons why he wanted to leave in the first place… and all the reasons he should stay — the main one being you, the spoiled rich girl he knew was utterly perfect for him.

➣ genre/au: jungkook x model!reader [she/her, female anatomy], old money au, smut, plot [soft on the e2l/f2l tropes]

[loosely inspired by ‘crazy rich asians’ movie/book by kevin kwan]

➣19.7k words

warnings: heavy plot. smut. model oc. jk is a wander but he’s really just a rich guy in disguise. oc and jk got heavy tension but good banter. oc is kinda snotty but not really? namjoon x oc [not y/n]. rich, old money snotty bts. sex on a yacht. teasing. foreplay. oral [f and m receiving]. jk goes to town on oc. cunnilingus. unprotected. missionary. oc on top. jk is tatted up in a polo. heavy makeout. breast play. fingering. dirty talk. oc goes down on jk while he’s on the phone with hobi 😭. jk’s villain arc as he slowly turns back into a cocky rich boy hehe. jk gets sex flashbacks at dolce and gabbana

“Come on, it’s my wedding and I want you as my best man. Do it for your best friend.”

The sky had been clear when he landed, a bright blue cloudless sky that resembled the clarity of the sea he had left behind. The air already seemed stiffer and the bleakness of the airport brought his mood down almost immediately.

The only thing to make him somewhat happy to be home was the sight of the person in front of him, a huge grin on his face as he saw him. The man was dressed casual in a pair of sweats and a hoodie but the small details of his watch matched with the luxury car parked outside brought unwelcome attention to Jungkook when people stared.

“I was worried you bailed last minute,” Namjoon said with a grin as he pulled him into a hug, “It’s good to see you.”

“I wouldn’t,” Jungkook reached into the pocket of his oversized black hoodie and slid his face mask off, taking a cigarette and lighting it once they were outside the airport, “It’s been too long without seeing your beautiful face.”

“Yeah, don’t tell Yeonwoo, but I’d marry you if you weren’t such a man,” Namjoon joked, playfully flirting which Jungkook just laughed off.

“Too bad you’re not my type,” Jungkook patted his shoulder apologetically, “Besides, where is the bride?”

“Getting her hair done for tonight,” Namjoon said as they got into a Bentley Mulssane, “Also, please drive, I’m scared.”

“Hyung,” Jungkook scoffed, taking the keys anyway, “If you hate driving so much why buy an expensive car?”

“Yeonwoo liked the color,” Namjoon said as he got in the passenger’s seat of his own car, “Are you staying with your parents? I could still find you an apartment.”

“For a week? Don’t bother, I’m staying at a hotel,” Jungkook said, turning the engine on and driving out.

Namjoon sighed, “So you really are leaving again?”

“Was there ever a doubt I was?” Jungkook asked in surprise.

“Duh, kid. We miss you, you rarely call, you never visit, you barely respond and we know nothing that goes on with you,” Namjoon said, “I thought once you got your fill of life experiences, you’d come back.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything at that, sniffling uncomfortably as he tried switching the subject, “So, who’s my partner?”

This time Namjoon was the one to freeze up, staring out the window with sunglasses on and his jaw locked. With a shy smile, he asked, “Are you gonna bring a date?”

His brows furrowed as he looked at his friend, “Who’s the Maid of Honor?”

Namjoon released a nervous laugh, “Y/n L/n.”

The silence in the car was loud and from the way Jungkook’s jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed, it was easy to see he wasn’t happy about that. You? You were the Maid of Honor and his partner down the aisle?

“You know, her and Yeonwoo are close and Yeonwoo’s always thinking about who looks the best next to her on camera and obviously she’s gonna choose the runway model but listen,” Namjoon could barely catch a breath, “Y/n’s matured more now and she’s going to be there tonight so please be on your best behavior.”

“Tonight? What’s tonight?” Jungkook’s tone was sharper now and Namjoon huffed in annoyance.

“The rehearsal dinner on the pier, it was all in the catalog I sent you,” Namjoon said, “It’s for press. Our parents want to get it on Forbes and Vogue, they want to make it the Wedding of the Year.”

They both laughed at that and Jungkook sighed, “So there’s gonna be cameras?”

“Yeah but don’t worry they won’t focus on you,” Namjoon said with a smirk, “The attention’s going on me.”

When Jungkook pulled up to the hotel he would be staying at for the week, Namjoon left him to settle in with a promise that he would make it tonight so he had no choice not to. A letter from a close friend was sitting on the coffee table and he set his things down to get it.

It was a big envelope with a card and a few things rattling inside that made him curious. Jungkook turned the envelope down so the contents would fall onto his palm and a roll of condoms slipped out.

‘Welcome home buddy, enjoy the penthouse and may all your frustrations come undone — Jung Hoseok.’

The note itself made him scoff in disbelief. His womanizing friend making jokes before they’ve actually reunited. He left the things on the table and left to shower, doing what he could to make himself look presentable for tonight.

Tonight was the beginning of a soon-to-be hectic week of photoshoots, brunches, parties and finally the wedding. You were one of the ones front and center, never taking the limelight from the bride but carrying your own sense of grace that had people turning heads when you walked into a room—or in this case riverwalk.

You vowed to appear your best tonight and opted for a silk, powder blue Prada dress paired with Swarovski crystals on your neck. You did your part as Maid of Honor, directing all attention to your friend, polite smile and gentle assurance when needed in front of a crowd. Yeonwoo found it comical how well you fit into character when you need to.

“The perfect friend,” Yeonwoo joked as you dabbed smeared lip gloss from her lips, “What would I do without you?”

“Oh, I hope you never have to find out,” You said in a gentle voice that feigned innocence and longing. Yeonwoo laughed as she was called toward other people and you let her go as you found the nearest server holding a glass of champagne. You took a glass, turning toward the railing overlooking the shore, tipping your glass back and chugging as much of the drink as possible.

“So this is where the Maid of Honor will be spending her night?” A familiar deep voice spoke up from behind you and a mischievous smile grew on your face. You set the glass down, straightened your posture and turned to him with a soft gaze.

“Now you know that’s not fair, Joon, I’ve been with Yeonwoo most of the night,” you told him, already motioning for another server to give you a glass, completely ignoring the man standing beside him.

“I believe you, darling, now why don’t you come say hi to the Best Man,” Namjoon pushed Jungkook forward who just glared at him in response, “You remember Jeon Jungkook, right?”

“It’s been two years, not ten,” You said, finally looking at Jungkook with a glimmer of annoyance in your eyes, matched by his stare of unamusement.

“Alright well why don’t you two get reacquainted while I search for the gorgeous love of my life,” Namjoon said, making his escape as quick as possible.

“You counted?” Jungkook asked, taking just one step toward you, trying to stop his eyes from trailing down your figure.

“Of course,” You said sarcastically, “I’ve just missed you so.”

He couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes as he turned to the water, “You knew we were partners?”

“Obviously, I know everything,” you said with a scoff that had his tongue pressing against his cheek, clearly annoyed, “Like how you’re staying at one of the Jung’s hotels instead of home. How you plan on leaving still, where you landed, how long you’ve been her—“

“So you’re stalking me?” Jungkook asked, only half joking.

“Don’t you wish,” you laughed, “You’re all over the news.”

His smile dropped. When he had nothing to say, you grew bored and left him behind, making sure to lightly graze your fingers against his arm as you said, “And just remember, you’re the one who despises me, not the other way around.”

With that, you left without looking back and he was left watching the sway of your hips when you walked away.

Money rules the world, even when people want to say it doesn’t. The people who have it are living the dream and the ones who don’t, want the dream. It doesn’t even have to be the luxurious wonders of the world, it could be as little as financial stability or surviving. At the end of the day, it was a Rich Man’s world and this group of individuals were born lucky.

First, the groom: Kim Namjoon. The man with it all, the money, the family, the education, son of millionaires with three hospitals in their name and a line of pharmacies all across the globe.

The bride: soon-to-be, Kim Yeonwoo. The heiress to half a dozen airlines, an airport funded by her family for decades and a beautiful island in her name off the coast.

Kim Seokjin, practically a prince, generations worth of politicians, the highest education and a trust fund worth millions. He was the one you’ll see with the president or in Australia, golfing with men in charge.

Jung Hoseok, the hotel heir to a chain of ten thousand hotels across the globe. He was the one you’ll most likely catch partying in Venice with a princess whose name he couldn’t actually remember—or maybe giving a waitress the night of her life.

Min Yoongi, eldest son of an elite banking firm formed a hundred years ago. He was private about his life, similar to Jungkook, he only came out when he was summoned by one of the others.

Kim Taehyung was wild as Hoseok but more quiet about it. He’ll soon be heir of the billion dollar empire his family built in the Art world of museums and curations and performing arts.

Now, Jungkook’s story was a bit different from the others. His family worked in land development, most of the country being built on the backs of the Jeon’s who brought cities to rural areas and avoided the public’s eye.

They had the kind of old money that everyone knew, even when they tried to stay out of the news.

It was the kind of old money, people could never stop talking about and you understood what that meant most.

There was a mystery to the fortune of your family, it was old money, so old nobody knew where it came from. Some say oil, some claim aristocrats but it was too far back, and too private for any to know. All the public knew were the generous and loving philanthropists and their perfect daughter, the Nation’s Sweetheart, you.

You really were loved by all, the camera, the press, everyone. They all saw the kind, innocent girl in the public’s eye but only a few saw the snotty, spoiled and downright disrespectful side of you that was real.

Where Jungkook craved independence and isolation from his family name, you soaked in it. The attention. The money. The dependence, you were the complete opposite of him and it drew him insane.

One might ask why he was around you if he really did despise you, but for a long time it wasn’t up to him. The group didn’t all become friends one magical night when you compared your family’s net worth.

No, this bond had grown between galas, private academies, horse riding lessons at the country club and family businesses. It was a very elite, classist society where only the ultra rich could really only trust in each other and keep a country afloat off of it.

Do you think Namjoon would have been allowed to marry Yeonwoo if her parents weren’t as rich as they were?

Do you think Seokjin would have married his wife that he met at Oxford if her family hadn’t been international shipping magnates?

It was like a spider web, they were all connected in some way, all controlled and that’s what Jungkook hated.

He loved his friends, truly, but he hated the control. Not a single one of them had real freedom and every little thing they did came with a price and he couldn’t live that way anymore. He understood his own privilege and how lucky he was to grow up in such a way but he knew there was more to life than just that. When he left home for the first time, he didn’t expect to feel so free. It was like a sense of independence he’s not sure any of his friends have felt and now that he’s back he’s reminded once again of how suffocating it all is.

There had to be at least a hundred guests in attendance tonight and he couldn’t find a moment of silence. The suit he wore felt uncomfortable and he hated the way it seemed to confine him, make him more rigid and stiff.

“Please Jungkook, I was only being funny. Did it bother you that much?” Hoseok asked with a tinge of mischief in his voice.

“No,” Jungkook shrugged as he looked around the banquet hall, “I just found it unnecessary.”

“Really? I would’ve assumed the opposite considering you’ll be spending a lot of time with Y/n this week,” Taehyung said with a shrug as the three of them stood off to the side, talking amongst themselves as the guests of the charity banquet focused on your parents who stood on stage making some speech about the importance of giving.

As if on cue, the spotlight turned toward you where you smiled politely and acted shyly for the cameras.

A scoff left his lips as he pulled his gaze away from you, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hoseok chuckled, “Oh come on man, everyone knows you have a thing for her—you’re really bad at hiding it.”

With a roll of his eyes, Jungkook stepped away from his friends, “You guys don’t know anything.”

He didn’t have a thing for you.

Sure, you’ve known each other for a long time but that means nothing. He’s known them all for a long time and if anything he's made his distaste toward you pretty evident. When you were younger it was only because you were so spoiled and the attention had to always be on you. He hated watching everyone fall for your sweetness and do whatever you asked of them. He almost fell for it himself a couple times but then he would see the way you judged or looked down on people and he just despised you more.

There’s nothing about you that attracts him aside from your looks…

Tonight you were dressed more modestly in a Chanel sweater and skirt set that looked like you would soon be relaxing at the country club. You wore a black headband with a bow on it and satin gloves, looking as polite as ever while you talked to anyone who approached you.

You were the perfect, doting daughter and anyone with eyes could see that.

“So how mad are you?” Yeonwoo asked once you had settled back in your chair next to her and Namjoon. Even Namjoon seemed to listen in on the question, waiting to hear what you would say.

“What do I have to be mad at?” You asked with a tight smile as you reached toward her to fix a slight smudge on her cheek, “ Jungkook?”

“Well, we know you have some sort of disliking toward each other but…” Yeonwoo bit her lip nervously, “Joonie and Jungkook are really close.”

“We know you two don’t like each other but you should have expected this, right?” Namjoon chuckled nervously, “You’re both our best friends and…”

“Am I saying anything?” You asked.

They shared a look with each other, “I guess not.”

You smiled, “Okay, then let’s just make sure everything runs smoothly this week.”

You did in fact feel a type of way about Jeon Jungkook but you weren’t going to admit that right now surrounded by so many people always lingering around trying to listen. You’ve learned to be very careful about how you act in public and there’s no way your friends will get you to act out by asking about him.

Jungkook was not someone you wished to exhort so much energy on. He wasn’t worth anything to you and despite how many years you’ve known him, you’ve never wished to get to know him. You don’t care where he goes when he’s not home or who he talks to, nor what he does. He doesn’t cross your mind at all through your normal day to day and you surely weren’t going to let him in this week. All he has going for him is his money and his looks.

Ever since you learned he would be the Best Man you thought about what that would mean and accepted that he would be the one to walk with you down the aisle. Despite not being happy about it, you managed to hide your resentment quite well.

You know how he feels about you and over time that’s made you develop a disliking toward him which you find only fair. He might dislike you for being spoiled but you dislike him for being so entitled.

For some reason, he thinks distancing himself from this life means he’s better than everyone else and you hate that. He thinks that by moving away and making his own money suddenly makes him different than the rest of you but that’s not true. He just wants to act like he’s self made so he can feel superior to all of you trust fund babies and that is what annoyed you.

After some time third wheeling, you were getting tired and slightly annoyed watching the couple act lovey dovey. You hated couples, they grossed you out even if they were your best friends.

“Mind if I keep you company? You look like you need it.”

With a furrow in your brows, you turned to face the person who felt the need to whisper in your ear and get close to you without permission. A smile spread across your lips at the man standing directly behind you, his arm draping over your front and hugging you.

“Hello, darling, I’ve missed you,” Jimin’s voice was soft yet sultry and you gave each other kisses on the cheek in greeting as he moved to the empty seat beside you.

“I didn’t realize you were back,” You said to him, “How was Paris?”

He released a sigh, “Oh the usual, shopping… a few events here and there.”

“Mhm, and when’d you get back?” You asked, now intrigued by his presence.

“Just last night. I was planning on visiting you earlier but things came up,” Jimin said, adjusting the Swiss watch on his wrist, admiring the shine, “What has happened since I was gone?”

“Oh God, he’s back,” Hoseok rolled his eyes from across the room, “I ran into him in Marseille the other day and the guy wanted to act like he didn’t know me.”

“He’s been insufferable since Uni,” Taehyung muttered under his breath, “I don’t understand why Y/n puts up with him.”

“Who?” Jungkook asked, only half curious. He hadn’t been paying attention until he heard your name and his reason for hearing it was purely coincidental.

“Park Jimin,” Hoseok clarified, making Jungkook look closer at the man who sat very close to you, making you smile and touch his arms when you spoke.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Jungkook seemed indifferent as he looked down at his glass of champagne, trying to resist the urge to look back at you.

“Not at all,” Taehyung said, “He’s just some guy we went to Uni with here. I don’t know how he met Y/n though, probably at some shitty party but he’s nobody that matters.”

Well… Park Jimin was the son of starlets. His great grandmother, his grandmother was an actress, his mother was an actress and he’s been in a few independent films here and there. He spends most of his time sailing on yachts or speaking of the Cannes Film Festival. He’s insanely rich, but he’s still not rich enough despite his accumulated generational wealth.

Unlike Jungkook’s wealth which held actual value especially in real estate, Jimin’s just didn’t compare to his or any of his friends for that matter. So why did you seem captivated by him?

He is aware he shouldn’t think this way, it’s only him reverting back to his old self which was all arrogance and entitlement. He shouldn’t think about how much wealthier he was compared to Jimin.

Unfortunately, Jungkook couldn’t seem to drag his gaze away from the pair as he tipped his champagne glass back, liquid pouring down his throat.

“Do you think she’ll take him to the wedding? I doubt Namjoon or Yeonwoo would ever invite him themselves,” Hoseok said and the three seemed like a group of gossips, the way they huddled around each other.

In Jungkook’s defense, he was barely listening to his friends. He was too busy watching the interaction happening not far from where he stood, eyes narrowed trying to understand what was happening.

First, he didn’t like you. He found you unbearable and you were the epitome of everything he hated about the High Society he had been raised in.

Second, he was only looking because you were next to his best friends. Maybe he wanted to see how in love Namjoon and Yeonwoo were but he couldn’t see because of you and your… friend.

Third, he wanted to know how you managed to stand out in your outfit despite the room being filled with people in extravagant clothes.

“I’m not sure, actually, rumors say she might,” Taehyung said and Jungkook couldn’t help but look over.

“What?”

“We’re just wondering if the Maid of Honor would bring her little boy toy to the wedding,” Hoseok said, looking at Jungkook as his jaw tensed, “What do you think?”

“I don’t care if Y/n brings anyone, we’re just dates for the pictures and ceremony,” Jungkook said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“So are you going to take a date too then?” Taehyung asked.

“Maybe,” Jungkook said as a server came around holding a tray of champagne glasses and he switched his empty one out for a full one. He didn’t bother to look back at his friends as he began walking away, “I’ll be back.”

“It’s so hard for him to act like he doesn’t care.”

“Kook! Come here, man,” Namjoon said with a wide grin as he saw his best friend walking by them. Jungkook didn’t bother glancing down at you as he greeted his friend.

“Kooky, I haven’t seen you all night,” Yeonwoo stood up to hug him, “Please don’t seduce my future husband, everyone has already RSVP’d.”

“Oh Yeonie,” Jungkook softly caressed her cheek, tipping her chin up to look at him, “If I wanted him, I would have had him by now.”

“Joon!” Yeonwoo whined clinging to Namjoon who just winked at Jungkook, further amplifying his fiancé’s feigned sobs. Jungkook smiled watching her squirm and without him meaning to, he let his gaze fall toward you.

“Y/n.”

You met his intense stare with your own and you could hear Jimin say he was going to get a drink but you didn’t look at him. You looked down at what Jungkook was wearing—a plain black Prada suit, how boring. “Jungkook.”

“Is that who you’re bringing to the wedding?” Jungkook asked, looking back at the infamous Park Jimin who stood with Taehyung and Hoseok, all three of them pretending to enjoy each other’s company.

“Maybe, we do get along very well,” you said with a sly smile as you stood up, not yet reaching Jungkook’s height but he didn’t intimidate you, “Is that a problem?

“No,” Jungkook said, voice low and deep, “I was just curious.”

“And why were you curious?” You asked, a mocking tone in your voice that he didn’t like, “Do tell me, how often are you curious about what I do?”

A scoff left his lips as he looked away from you first, “It was just a question, don’t get ahead of yourself and think you matter to me more than you do.”

An evident pout appeared on your lips and for a second his expression changed with worry but the moment was fleeting. You just laughed [giggled, actually] and with a gentle touch to his arm, said, “No need to lie to yourself.”

His eyes narrowed, anger bubbling up inside him when he heard a shutter of cameras going off, flash in his face and without thinking, he took your hand in his and left.

“If you plan on kidnapping me, it won’t work,” You said teasingly as you left to some dark corner behind large pillars.

“I’m not going to put up with a week of your games,” Jungkook said as he let go of your hand, missing the way your eyes fell to the black ink on his knuckles—something you had never noticed before, not even on the yacht when it was dark out.

“Then stop playing into them,” you said with a laugh, “If I drive you crazy, why bother talking to me at all? I think we’re both very capable of ignoring each other enough to not have to say a single word.”

“What I mean is, you can put on this act of yours for the cameras but don’t drag me into it,” Jungkook told you, ignoring the idea you had thrown out there. He was referring to your strange smiles and touches you give him when in the public.

“I’m not dragging you into anything,” You rolled your eyes, “And you seem to forget all eyes have been on you since you got back—heir to the Jeon Corporation. What do you think people will say when they find out you dragged me out here all alone? The Big, Bad & Rebellious Jeon Jungkook and The Nation’s Sweetheart, me.”

His eyes shut with a hint of anger that he tried to subdue, “Sweetheart?”

“That’s what I said,” you smiled sweetly to prove your point making him scoff.

“You’re not a sweetheart, you’re a spoiled brat,” Jungkook said, looking down at you in your pretty clothes with your pretty jewelry and your pretty face.

“Nice of you to finally notice,” you said bitterly and with a roll of your eyes, you pushed into his shoulder on purpose as you walked past him, “But we’re all the same, aren’t we? Just some of us like to act all high and mighty because you leave home craving independence, ignoring your privilege to seem like better people.”

Jungkook felt the jab of your words but he let you walk past him without a rebuttal.

With a sense of frustration, he ran his fingers through his hair, trying to collect himself to rejoin High Society and finish the night with his head held high.

When Jungkook left his hotel the day of the Bachelor Party, he hadn’t been sure what to expect. Hoseok had done most of the planning for it since he had been abroad and when it comes to Hobi, you never know what to expect. It was almost two days of festivities and it was only toward the end that everyone would separate into their respective groups. That meant that once again he was forced into the same place as you.

The yacht sailed toward the private island the events would be at and as big as it was, he couldn’t escape you. There were the main group of friends that were always together and a few added guests, mostly Yeonwoo’s friends. Hoseok had already been hyping up the party tonight more than anything and everytime Namjoon would grow more worried. He didn’t need a big party thrown by his notorious womanizing friend.

“So what do the girls have planned?” Jungkook asked Namjoon as they sat at a table, looking at everyone aboard. Some people wore little clothing, others casual clothes, you wore something in between. It was casual yet attractive.

“ I don’t know, something probably calmer than what Hobi’s got for us,” Namjoon said but his friend had tuned him out after the first part, “Y/n planned it all and leant us the Yacht for the guests.”

“The yacht?” Jungkook asked, looking around at the luxury super yacht.

“14.7 million dollar yacht for Y/n’s birthday last year,” Namjoon explained to Jungkook, “She wanted a Booze Cruise.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff, “So Y/n got a yacht?”

“It comes in handy, doesn’t it?” A soft voice spoke from behind him and his breath hitched. You looked over to Namjoon, “Yeonie is looking for you.”

“The wife calls,” Namjoon said with a cheesy smile as he left you two behind.

“So, are you ready to go party with Hobi tonight?” You asked with a laugh, “I heard he’s got some former Miss Universe models coming in.”

“Oh, fun,” Jungkook said, slightly sarcastic.

“Kook, you’re not old enough to not like partying with models,” You teased making him look over at you. For a moment he wondered if what you said had a double meaning considering you were a model but he didn’t want to speak up about it.

“I’m sorry, I’m not a party animal,” Jungkook said truthfully, only a hint of joking as he looked around at the packed floor, “I think even this is too much.”

“Wow, how could you be a former Socialite if you don’t like partying?” You asked, “Is it all that time in the jungle or desert you spent alone that changed you?”

Jungkook could hear the sarcasm in your tone but he knew it wasn’t in an offensive way. He had backpacked to a small village in Indonesia for a few weeks before leaving to Nevada or Dubai—and he hated that you knew it all. He enjoyed traveling alone and experiencing things alone; he doesn’t need parties with too loud of music or too many drunks. He’s like Namjoon, they want to celebrate with their small group of friends rather than a party full of strangers who don’t even know what the occasion is.

“It might’ve,” Jungkook said, clearing his throat and checked the time.

You didn’t say much else after that and he got the impression that you grew bored talking to him. He looked at you still waiting to see if you would say something else but instead, you just looked off into the distance, not bothering to hide the sudden boredom you must have felt.

He’s sure he could have found something else to say to you but it was no use when he could see you beginning to slip away when you looked down at your cellphone with a bright smile. You didn’t utter out a goodbye as you left him behind to answer your phone, “Chimmy, I’ve missed you. How’s Morocco?”

“Warm,” Jimin said, “I’ve just finished a shoot and I believe I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Oh I won’t be home, remember?” You said as the final thing Jungkook was able to hear from you before you walked away.

Jungkook couldn’t help but look after you, thinking about who might’ve called you and how things were handled and he had to be honest, he was curious. He wasn’t attracted to you but he found you attractive… He thought you were charming and charismatic but not enough for him to want you, maybe…

The two of you just seem so different. He’s seen as the Black Sheep of the group, not because he’s not wealthy or attractive but because his past decisions have apparently been awful ones.

He was never one for parties so he wasn’t wild and defiant. He did make a declaration to leave all the money behind and pursue his dreams—something rich people were not allowed to do. Especially not if you were next in line to inherit it all like Jungkook was.

You are more free than he is and yet you like being in your bubble. You like the glamor and the responsibilities because unlike him, you know how to play both sides. Do your parents care that you’re out wasted at European raves or sailing on your yacht with a foreign prince? No, why? Because you know how to act like the innocent, perfect princess you’re supposed to be.

Jungkook can’t pretend that well. He can’t hide his tattoos or piercings or signs of nonconformity.

So, yes, he finds you attractive but he can’t let himself fall for you when he thinks you’re too different from each other. It just doesn’t stop his brain from thinking about you though.

“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked Taehyung who had been sandwiched between two women he couldn’t name.

Taehyung, evidently drunk, shook his head no, “Are you ready to confess your undying love for her?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, scoffing as he said, “Fuck off.”

All Taehyung did was laugh, making the girls he had his arms around laugh too and Jungkook left feeling annoyed. He was just curious to know where you were, that’s all. Namjoon and Yeonwoo are busy making their rounds, greeting and thanking everyone on the boat and his other friends were off doing their own things. He’s already spent too much time sulking by the railing, staring down at the dark blue water that he can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t want to drink to the point that he’s drunk so really, his last hope is you.

“Have you seen Y/n?” Jungkook asked as he went to the rooftop where Hoseok was sitting in a hot tub full of strangers. Hoseok looked like such an asshole [something Jungkook had permission to say] with his designer sunglasses and Vacheron Constantin watch, just barely above the water surface.

Hoseok barely glanced his way as he said, “I don’t know, check downstairs.”

That was all Jungkook needed to know before he was heading down to find you. It took a while of asking any person he passed by, where you might be and through all this, he couldn’t remember why he was looking for you in the first place.

He had no idea where he was going, he just found himself walking down what felt like endless corridors of rooms, following the directions of whatever housekeeper he could find. The boat really was big, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that this was a simple birthday present.

“Now, who do we have here?” You looked down the empty hallway toward the man in front of you. It pained you to see just how attractive Jeon Jungkook really was.

You have to admit, he really knows how to dress for occasions. The rare times he’s photographed in some news article, he’s dressed casually, clearly trying to hide from the public eye but now that he’s back it seems his fashion has picked up. He wore a striped black flannel Dolce & Gabbana shirt tucked into cream colored slacks, and matching velvet black slippers from their newest collection.

“I’m just… wandering,” Jungkook cleared his throat, whatever excuse he had made up earlier, completely out of mind, “What happened to your dress?”

A large red stain adorned the front of your pink dress from the chest down your torso. You looked down at the stain with a roll of your eyes, “Some stupid bitch worker. She’s off the boat tomorrow.”

Jungkook widened his eyes, feeling you brush past him and down the hall, “So you’re firing someone for spilling a drink?”

“Um, this is Valento? Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a stain like this?” You asked with a slight scoff as you went to the door straight at the end, pushing your key card in to open it, “It took the dry cleaners ages last time.”

“I didn’t take you as an Outfit Repeater to be worrying about things like that,” he stopped at the door, already looking around at what was evidently the master cabin. The water out the windows was a dark, midnight blue and it reflected into the room of silver and gray. It had a walk-in closet, and king sized bed with a view of the open water and a private deck. He didn’t dare go in and put himself in personal quarters with you.

You gasped, stopping your movements of rummaging through your closet to say, “I am an environmentalist.”

He couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not and he had to fight back a grin at how un-woke you sounded considering you were ruining the planet with a private yacht of this size.

You pulled out an off-white dress, a Jaquemus piece, ‘La Robe Artichaut’, “Ugh, after this week, I am firing a lot of people.”

“What happened this time?” Jungkook asked, leaning against the doorframe watching you, waiting for you to kick him out but you just went toward the windows overlooking the dark blue ocean. As much as you claimed to not get along, you talked like old friends.

You reached your hands toward your back, attempting to undo the back of your dress on your own, “I told my assistant not to pack anything close to white and she packs this dress? I swear people can’t do anything right.”

“If people ask just say you’re supposed to match me,” Jungkook said referring to his slacks, “Yeonie won’t be mad her Maid of Honor is wearing off-white.”

“I guess,” you sighed, letting go of your dress and not bothering to look back at him as you said, “Undo the back.”

Jungkook stood silently at the door, staring at you with dark eyes. The fabric of your dress was thin and soft to the touch—he could just tell with the way your figure had so effortlessly shaped the dress. It is a real pity you had to change out of it, he’ll admit that, but now he’s been asked—no, demanded—to help you to take it off.

He has no idea why you think you could just boss him around but this seems to have always been the case. The two of you were never close in the past but the very few times you would run into each other… as much as he hated it, there was always some sort of tension there.

With your back to him, you hadn’t seen the way he silently made his way across the room, shutting the door behind him as he went right to you. You could sense his presence behind you, see his reflection in the dark window and feel his rough fingers brush against your back.

“I meant to tell you, I like your shoes,” You said casually, his fingers beginning to work the knot that tied the ribbon of your dress, “My friend wore them in Paris just a week ago.”

“Friend?” Jungkook raised a brow curiously, his eyes trained slowly on the ribbon he was ever so slowly pulling loose. His gaze shifted to your reflection in the window as he pulled a little rougher than earlier, “Is this the one you’re always running off on the phone with?”

“You mean Park Jimin?” You asked, not bothering to react at all to his roughness or his speed, “Yes, him.”

You could feel Jungkook’s deep exhale as he pulled it as loose as he could while still being appropriate, “Are you seeing him?”

A mischievous smile couldn’t help but make its way to your face as you turned to face him, holding your arms around yourself modestly, “Is that what you wanted to talk about all along? You could have asked me earlier instead of spending who knows how long looking for me.”

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself agreeing with you, and with a tense jaw he asked again, “Well, are you?”

“I’m going to get changed,” you motioned toward the door, telling him to leave, “Unless you want to help me with that too.”

A scoff left his lips as he took a step back, annoyed that you wouldn’t just answer his question and annoyed he even cared enough to ask. What did it matter to Jungkook if you took a date? He wasn’t in a relationship with you and he barely considered you a friend.

When he wasn’t here and he was traveling, he was perfectly fine not knowing a thing about you aside from whatever article or magazine you appeared in. Why now that he returns and he sees how… glamorously beautiful you are, is he curious about you?

“And just so we’re clear, no, I’m not seeing Jimin,” You told him as he walked toward the door, stopping midway to listen to you, “Because I know it would make you jealous.”

To be honest, you didn’t think he would actually be jealous, it’s just a joke. Something about you just gets under Jungkook’s skin and it wants you to push his buttons that much more. As obvious as it was that he wasn’t at all amused by your sweetness, it was your arrogant charm that seemed to get him every time.

You knew you were beautiful, you knew you had every right to be arrogant and as much as Jungkook could deny he’s attracted to you at all, it’s very noticeable. You’ve never been told no a day in your life. You’ve never been rejected either and you know Jungkook wouldn’t dare reject you if you actually went for it.

Despite how vocal he is about his distaste toward you, you can’t help but still get giddy in his presence. You just want to rile him up and know that he’s attainable to you. You’ve always had a thing for him, he was an absolute gorgeous man and he was wealthy, extremely wealthy. He was educated and had class but at the same time he was rugged and intimidating. You’ve seen the small glimpses of ink on his knuckles and you just know that under all his long sleeves, he had more to show.

Whether you felt seriously for him or if you just figured it’s a spur of the moment situation, you want him.

“Jealous?” Jungkook attempted to scoff but the word caught in his throat with some truth to it, “Why would I be jealous?”

“I don’t know,” You shrugged, sliding the strap of your down your shoulder, “Because then you would have to share my attention with someone else.”

Jungkook knows he should leave. You had asked him to leave yet you kept going back and forth, and it was stopping him from doing so.

He should go.

He needs to go before he does or say something he’ll regret.

If he caves in to your taunts then he’ll be disappointed in himself, like part of him was allowing his return to his old lifestyle of luxury and privilege.

“Y/n, you always say things you don’t know,” Jungkook asked you with a deep voice that had you smiling, practically feeling him give in. His gaze was dark and there was no hiding the growing tension, “And you must think you’re real cute trying to act out now that we’re alone.”

“No, I know I am,” you said, not backing away from the eye contact. “And you know it too.”

“I don’t,” Jungkook loomed over you, eyes tracing down the curve of your nose and to the slight part in your lips, “I think… I think you’re…”

You blinked up at him, “Well say it, or are you too busy thinking about kissing me?”

An annoyed huff left his lips as one of his hands pulled you toward him at your waist and the other tilted your chin up until his lips were grazing over yours. You reached toward him, making the first real press of your mouths together and there was no use in acting like he hadn’t been in fact thinking about kissing you.

Jungkook let his eyes fall shut as yours did and he pulled you closer into his chest with the hand on your jaw sliding down toward the curve of your neck, making sure you didn’t pull away just yet. You kept up with the pace he had set of slow yet hungry kisses, pulling on your lips or letting his tongue slide against yours tenderly.

“Well?” You gasped feeling his soft lips kiss along your jaw, his soft black hair brushing against your face, a light scent of his shampoo or cologne that left you feeling intoxicated. The hand he had on your waist tightened at your words, pulling away with a quiet grunt, he looked you in the eye.

“Don’t ask me any more questions,” Jungkook groaned, the taste of your lips still on his tongue and there was a light sheen of gloss coating his lips from yours.

It’s shameful for him to admit how easy it was for you to break him down into every other man who seems to fall at your feet when given the chance. This is exactly what he didn’t want and now he’s pulling the godforsaken stained dress he undid and watching it slip down your body, revealing your naked form to his hungry eyes.

Above your bedroom was a deck filled with people celebrating the soon-to-be newlyweds while the Best Man and Maid of Honor are in the master cabin, half undressed, and stumbling onto the bed.

Jungkook was gentle but firm, he wasted no time popping the buttons of his shirt open, exposing the toned muscles of his body and the ink covering most of his arm. Your eyes scanned the markings, surprise and wonder evident on your face with how well he managed to hide how much he’s gotten done since he left.

“Surprised?” Jungkook asked, eyes low when your hands ran over his slacks, pulling at his belt and nails lightly scratching at his abdomen. His voice dripped with arousal when you sat up from beneath him, pressing light butterfly kisses to his abs and tattoos.

“You always surprise me,” You admitted, not as teasing as before but with a hint of playfulness still there. You looked up from his chest, the height of your sitting form and his standing one looked endless as he towered over you. “For instance, I didn’t think it would be this easy to get you in my bed.”

You kissed along his neck now, sitting on your knees to reach him better and nipping at his sensitive spots. His hand tightened around the neck of your head, not pulling your hair but definitely getting your eyes on his, “Why do your words sound so dirty when you say them so… “

Jungkook couldn’t even finish his sentence before succumbing to you once more and kissing your lips. With little force applied, he was laying you back down on the bed with his tattooed and muscular body just melting into yours effortlessly. With one hand on your neck and the other sliding down to the curve of your thigh, it felt like he was all over you.

“Let’s take this off you,” Jungkook murmured between kisses down your neck as he began to finally take off the ruined dress that had been in his way since you got him to undo it in the first place, “You’ve been teasing me with this since earlier.”

“Maybe because I wanted to see you get worked up,” you sighed as you made yourself comfortable on the king side bed, your body slowly unveiled to his hungry eyes. Once he had pulled the dress off you completely and threw it to the side, sitting up between your spread legs and staring.

Jungkook didn’t bother with discreteness as he eyed down your naked body still in shock that he was seeing it before him. Your breasts were on full display and the only piece of fabric hiding you was a thin lace underwear that felt so nimble and soft under his fingertips, so easy for him to just tear off of you. You looked gorgeous laying so pliantly underneath him and he couldn’t help but let his hands slide down from your bent knees to your inner thighs.

“Did it work?” You asked just above a whisper as he hovered over you, leaving needy kisses between your breasts while he tugged at the hem of your panties until he was sliding them down your legs.

“It really fucking worked,” Jungkook groaned as he cupped your boobs in his hands, letting his tongue lick at your pert nipples and feeling the way they stiffened underneath him. Your hands went to his hair, legs nearly wrapping around his torso when you felt his teeth lightly press into your nipple, sucking and tugging when needed.

His kisses began to run down toward your navel with his hands replacing his lips and kneading your breasts in the palm of them while he moved down to lay between your legs, “I want a taste, pretty girl.”

“Then get one,” you said in a whiny tone that had his big rounded eyes turning to look at you with surprise. A knowing smirk falling on his lips as he lifted your knees and pulled your thighs apart as far as they could go until he was eye level with your pretty cunt. Jungkook was never one to stop and tease when he needed sex, he had a tendency to get a little rough and take what he wants but it’s so hard to move it along when he’s met with the sight of you laying so pretty for him. He could tell your patience was running thin with how long he was taking to do anything and just before he felt you close to snapping at him, he leaned into you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped in surprise with the sudden swipe at your clit by Jungkook’a flattened, long tongue and you’ll admit it caused goosebumps to form on your skin. You couldn’t see the way he smiled as his hands circled around your thighs, repeating his teasing flick of his tongue, feeling the way your folds began to react to him.

He felt your fingers run through his soft hair for anchor and for some reason that slight grip you had on him had his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let himself get lost in the taste of your pussy. No longer up for any sense of teasing, Jungkook lets his mouth fall open, kissing your wet heat with his tongue pressing between your folds and finding your clit. Your hips were slowly bucking into his face, showing him just how much you liked his tongue and he knew just what to do to have you coming undone underneath him.

He sucked your clit into his mouth, his lips wrapped around the hard bud while his tongue swiped against the tip of it. He began a repetition of that and grazing his teeth ever so softly against your sensitive folds knowing he found your weak spot when he sucked your labia into his mouth and had your soft moans filling the cabin.

“Jungkook,” you moaned softly, fingers tugging at his hair roughly, “Oh god.”

He didn’t dare pull his mouth off you to give you a response and instead let his actions grow rougher. He unwrapped a hand from around your thigh and slipped it down to your pussy where he let his finger begin to draw patterns into your labia, so close to your entrance that he could feel your arousal quite literally leak out of you.

Your body was filled by pleasure that Jungkook was bringing you and you couldn’t help but bring your free hand to your neglected chest, trying to fill the void that Jungkook’s hand had left as you groped your breasts. Jungkook looked up completely enamored with the way you played with yourself while he ate you out and without any second thoughts, he pressed his long middle finger into your waiting cunt.

“That’s it,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss along your pelvis, “Cum for me, darling.”

“Jungkook,” you whined as he pushed a second finger in, hooking them upwardward just past your pubic bone and finding that soft, spongy spot with ease. With the way your walls fluttered around his fingers, he knew you were close and all it took was his lips around your clit while thrusting into that pleasure spot of yours, for you to wrap your legs around his shoulders and shake with release, “Oh my god.”

“Mm,” Jungkook groaned with pleasure, feeling your arousal flood his fingers in your release. He looked down at his wet hand, bringing it to his lips where he licked off the release that threatened to drip down his forearm, “Sweet.”

You looked like a mess trying to catch your breath and come to understand what had just happened between you to think too long about the fact that he was pressing his fingers into your waiting mouth till you licked your own release off him. He lifted a brow as your tongue circled around his fingers while sucking on them with your cheeks hollowed in. It had his breath hitching, trying to pull his fingers back out before he came just from that and began to pull at his own pants.

“Condom?” He asked in an unusually low and raspy tone. You blinked, “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”

He didn’t press for more as he kicked his slacks and briefs off, hard cock pointed up stiffly. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it. You wanted to wrap your lips around him and take him deep in your mouth because his dick was surprisingly so fucking pretty you just needed it desperately.

With your mind decided, you attempted to sit up when he pushed you back down, cock in his hand as he gave himself a couple strokes to relieve some tension and pulled your legs apart, “I need you now.”

“Impatient, are we?” You asked with a laugh, making yourself relax when you felt his cock head brush against your exposed clit. Jungkook wasn’t paying attention to what you said as much as he was to the way his mushroom tip fit perfectly between your folds.

A soft gasp left your lips as he pushed it against your clit, playing with your labia and letting the clear liquid that dripped out of his tip, coat your clit.

“Fuck,” Jungkook took a deep breath as his cock nearly slipped inside of you, playing with your earlier release to cover his length in it, “Such a pretty pussy.”

With an annoyed roll of your eyes, you grew tired of his teasing and with a quick hook of your leg around his slim waist, you pushed his cock into you eliciting a deep groan [almost growl] to slip from his lips, “Fucking hell, Y/n.”

“You were taking too long,” you moaned, legs falling back again as you tried to ease the slight pain that came from his thick member entering your tight walls. Jungkook’s hair was brushing against your face as he looked down at the way you took him in, “I was trying to be gentle.”

“Did I ask you to be?” You asked with a scoff. Jungkook rolled his eyes, spreading his legs further apart and digging his knees into the bed for support as he covered you with his body, laying down to plant a quick kiss to your lips. “Brat.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” your manicured nails traced down his back until your hands were under his thighs as if ready to make him move on your own, “Are you going to fuck me yet?”

He couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief, an amused smile on his face and without saying a word, he pulled out until on his tip was past your ring of nerves, and suddenly pushed back in. Your lips fell open in a silent gasp as your eyes locked with his and he smirked.

“You need it that bad?” Jungkook asked as he pulled your legs up, pressing them toward your chest and holding them down with his arms as he kissed your neck, dragging his cock back out, “How bad?”

“Jungkook,” you groaned, trying to move your hips but in this position it was useless, “Start moving.”

“Make me,” he kissed the tip of your nose, slowly sliding himself back in just a little. You rolled your eyes, moving your hand to hide your face as you felt yourself getting annoyed.

Jungkook was smiling like this was all just so amusing to him and with his lip pulled between his teeth, he thrusted in with little restraint, starting a slow yet steady rhythm, “Don’t hide your face, darling. I wanna see the Y/n L/n moaning for me.”

“Fuck you,” you shook your head feeling your pussy tighten around him with your legs pulled to your chest unable to escape his thrusts that were becoming more rough by the second.

“Come on darling, you can do it,” Jungkook groaned, feeling like he was on cloud 9 from the way your pussy took him in. He doesn’t know how to explain it but he felt really fucking good right now. He’s not sure if it’s that he hasn’t had sex in a while, or if it had something to do with the fact that it was you, but he was fucking you with all his energy, letting himself relax and just feel good in the moment.

“Jungkook,” you moaned his name, hand slipping from your face so you could wrap it around his neck, “Kiss me.”

“Kiss?” He asked, out of breath as his rhythm faltered and without thinking, he let go of your legs and let them fall back onto the bed as he tilted your chin up with a hand to kiss you. He set his other hand down on the bed for support, getting lost between your lips and your tight pussy.

Jungkook’s tongue licked against yours swallowing your moans, “Y/n, it’s s’good.”

“Mhm,” you circled your legs around him, “Fuck.”

Jungkook kissed down your neck, hands sneaking down to your waist and with one swift movement, rolled onto his back with you on top. He needed a change of pace because if he kept going, he would cum sooner than he wanted to and he needed you to cum one more time for him so if that meant letting you get in top, he would.

And it had been such a good idea because the sight of you sitting on his cock, leaning back and placing your hands on his thighs instead of chest, made him more excited. Your knees dug into the bed and with your fingers scratching at his muscular thighs and raised your hips, lifting yourself off his cock before plunging him back in.

“Fucking hell,” Jungkook groaned throwing his head back into the pillows, a hand on your hip but not daring to take control, “That’s it darling, fuck yourself on my cock.”

“Jungkook,” the new position was having him reach newer parts inside you that had your thighs shaking, “I’m so close.”

“Take it,” Jungkook growled, holding you in place as he dug his feet into the mattress and began to fuck up into you, “Take my fucking dick, fuck.”

“Oh my god,” you fell forward, hands scratching at his chest, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten, “I—I can’t. Jungkook, baby, oh my—“

“Take it,” he groaned, grabbing your hips harshly and moving once again so he was on top, thrusting into you despite how hard it was getting to pull out of your tight walls, “Take it.”

“I—I,” your lips fell open in a loud cry, pinching his biceps for stability, and felt your walls come undone. For the second time in less than hour, your orgasm hit you hard. Jungkook released a string of grunts, feeling your pussy convulse around him and his cock was greeted with a flood of warmth that had his legs shaking, trying to support him but he couldn’t take it. He barely had time to slip out before he was letting go, his cum dribbling down to your thighs as he let out one final moan of your name.

His body seemed to collapse down next to yours, panting and out of breath, “Fuck.”

The two of you were a mess, sweaty and sore and all you wanted to do was lay down and possibly sleep but where you were did not go past you unnoticed. You searched around for your cellphone, knowing you set it down somewhere before trying to change and found it on your nightstand with six missed calls from the Bride-To-Be.

Jungkook took a deep breath, sitting up and looking down at the mess the two of you made on the bed. He got up, not bothering with covering himself up as he found a towel and tried cleaning himself off with it while you got on your phone.

“Duty calls,” you joked with a sigh as he came to your side and began to wipe down your thighs. Yeonwoo sent you a dozen messages talking about a midlife crisis of some sorts. You sat up carefully, thanking him for handing you your robe and you slipped it on.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked with an awkward clear of his throat as he began putting on his clothes again. He’ll admit he was taking his time getting dressed and you left to the bathroom to freshen up.

“I don’t know, something with the gift boxes for everyone. I think Yeonie’s assistant forgot them,” you told him as you found new underwear to wear, making sure you were cleaned before putting them on. You left the door to the bathroom open to talk to him but you still changed into the white Jacquemus dress from earlier.

You walked up to him and he got the memo about zipping your back up and this time he couldn’t help but lean down to press a kiss to your shoulder blade, “Are you going up yet?”

“I’m gonna touch up my makeup first,” you told him honestly, “You go ahead.”

When Jungkook reached upstairs again, finding the party just as he left it earlier, it’s like nobody noticed he had even left for so long. They were all too focused on your new dress — which Yeonwoo absolutely adored on you. He found a glass of champagne and tried to escape from the swarm of people trying to hold a conversation with him when he wasn’t thinking clearly at all.

Unfortunately for the two of you, the matching off-white shade of your clothing and the sudden mark on his neck wasn’t lost on anyone else. Soon, pictures from every angle possible would paint a story neither of you wanted.

There was a sense of guilt that came with disassociating yourself from your best friend’s wedding plans. Jungkook could barely remember what they had done once they got to the island after a surprising night of visiting your cabin.

He hasn’t had an actual conversation with you since that night and he has to be honest and say, he barely remembers the actual wedding. He hadn’t seen you since the yacht before being dragged away by Hoseok the following day to do some activities for Namjoon’s groomsmen. You had gone to do your Maid of Honor duties and he’s felt out-of-loop since.

The entire day had been packed with things to do and he’s aware he looked dashing in every photo the photographers took of him in his 12,000$ Kiton suit. The matching suits they all wore made the groomsmen look classy and cohesive while the Balmain dresses the bridesmaids wore made them elegant and surreal—well at least for you.

That’s what he thinks is the problem.

His best friends got married and yet all he was able to think about was you. It didn’t help that despite the wedding being on a private island, there was still press everywhere, capturing every angle of this beautiful matrimony between nepo babies.

The reception had been filled with various questions from various interviewers that left all your shared friends staring at you suspiciously—especially when questions of the hickey on his neck came forward.

As awful as it sounded considering the 46 million dollar wedding in the mountains of an island was stunning, he could barely remember half of what hadn’t been photographed. He left the day after the wedding with an excuse that he had things to take care of where he’s currently at and his friends bid him farewell.

He got to the mainland a day before the others and it gave him time to return home before he left on another voyage alone.

“How was the wedding?” His older brother asked, swinging his mallet just slightly, trying to find his nail before shooting the ball through the hoop, “I can't believe I was caught up in meetings all week in Tokyo.”

Jungkook looked oddly bright today compared to how he felt and he didn’t want to say it was because his casual and boring clothes he wore abroad stuck out here in ways he didn’t like. That’s why today—his last day home—he visited his family’s 150 acre estate for a game of Croquet and possibly tennis, wearing a matcha colored Loro Piana cashmere polo with short sleeves.

“Um, it was great,” Jungkook said as he brought his cigarette to his lips and lighting the end before inhaling.

“That’s it?” JungHyun asked with a scoff as he motioned for Jungkook to take his turn and he took his brother’s cigarette, “Did you have an orgy with any models or were you your usual gentleman self that won the crowd against me?”

His older brother had been well known in his younger days for many reasons, his partying, his charm, his youth and education. When he was in his mid twenties, you could always catch him in some article their parents tried taking down in regards to driving under the influence or insulting a server. Unlike Jungkook who preferred a quiet life he could escape to, his brother did not and now he’s some big shot finance guy because his attitude growing up had ruined his chance of inheriting everything from their grandparents. Now it will all go to Jungkook—something they’re all aware of—and maybe that’s why JungHyun makes snide remarks here and there.

He’s not asking about the wedding because he’s curious, he’s bitter that despite his perfect appearance and Jungkook’s more intimidating kind, Jungkook was still the most well-mannered of the two and therefore the favorite—if only he stayed and fulfilled his duties.

“No orgy,” Jungkook said with a hint of disgust as he finished his round of the game, one step closer to winning, “Just Y/n.”

JungHyun had been mid-swing when he mentioned you and his aim went astray making him miss the next ring, “What do you mean just Y/n?”

“I slept with her—“

A loud and annoying laugh cut him off as JungHyun let his mallet go, “Ah, so you can’t remember the events of your best friend’s wedding because you were too busy sleeping with the nation’s sweetheart? Oh I cannot wait till father hears about this, maybe your wedding is next and then you’ll finally step up to the plate.”

Jungkook scoffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means now that you’re back, and dating the richest girl in the country, there’s no way Father won’t hand you down the company now,” JungHyun said bitterly, “And everyone said you running away would be a bad thing, but clearly it’s reminded you of who you are.”

“I’m not… I’m not staying,” Jungkook said, “I leave tomorrow but I wanted to see you all. And Y/n and I aren’t going to date, it was a… um.”

“Mistake?” JungHyun asked, “Jungkook, don’t be an idiot. You’ve been obsessed with her for years.”

“I have not.”

“You have, you just don’t want to admit that all your talk about being independent and leaving the money behind to be free was complete bullshit,” JungHyun said with a scoff, “Or why would you mess around with her of all people. A relationship with Y/n is going to put you at the top once again and there’s nothing that won’t be handed to you—and she’s someone mother would approve.”

“You’re dramatic,” Jungkook huffed, “One night doesn��t mean we’re dating or getting married or any of that other shit. I still don’t want to run the business… I just want, I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you never know what you want,” JungHyun said, “But whatever, if you’re set on running away again, so be it. I’m tired of trying to make you see how you blindly follow along with everything you seem to hate.”

“Master, your wife is on line three and she’s wondering who is picking up the kids.”

“Fuck, I don’t know,” JungHyun groaned, annoyed and no longer interested in talking to his little brother, “The driver?”

Jungkook watched his brother leave him behind and with a defeated sigh, he left.

“So are you leaving?” Youngi asked him as he watched the bubbles in his pink champagne, “Or have you changed your mind?”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” Jungkook said stiffly as he fixed the suit jacket he was currently getting fit into, “I’m just postponing my leave but I have a few things to take care of here.”

“Like with you and Y/n?” Youngi asked, making sure the fitting room at Dolce & Gabbana was empty aside from just them two. Jungkook didn’t even flinch at the mention of you. Since the two arrived at this store his vision has been filled with large framed photos of you and your dear friend Park Jimin all over the store. Apparently you were one of the brand’s favorite Ambassadors and they made it known you modeled their products. Right now he’s facing the mirror with a picture of you modeling a satin baldonétte bra and high waisted panties. You looked beautiful and seductive and its been hard for him to not just stare at all your pictures since he got here. Now Yoongi is attempting to bring you up and he refuses to give in to the extent his relationship with you has gone.

You haven’t even spoken since the wedding and even that had just been an exchange of pleasantries and no real depth to either of your words.

“No, with my father,” Jungkook said stiffly as he shrugged off the suit jacket and called in the stylist to find something else. Yoongi sat up in his seat slightly more interested, “Really? About what? Don’t tell me you're back in the running.”

“We're going to discuss it,” Jungkook mumbled to himself.

He wanted to make one thing clear, his decision to seek out his father and work out some sort of plan where he can get back into the job he had been assigned to do, while also having freedom had absolutely nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with the fact that you’re here, and he’s interested in you, and that it would be his parent’s dream for him to stay and be in a relationship with you and also take over the business finally…

This was his decision because his brother’s right. He can't just keep running away.

“And what do you mean, with Y/n?” Jungkook asked, clearing his throat awkwardly as he glanced up at your five foot photo framed above the mirror, remembering the shape of your body against his, moaning his name and tightening your walls around him.

“Haven’t you heard the rumors?” Youngi asked as he got on his phone, “It seems as though you have competition.”

Jungkook didn’t need to be told more as he took Yoongi’s phone from his outstretched hand and read what was on the screen with furrowed brows.

At the end of the article, in big, fat letters, the conclusion said: ‘Now the question is, will L/n choose the best friend, Park Jimin, or the elegant and influential Best Man, Jeon Jungkook—possibly as the country’s newest IT couple?’

When he gave Yoongi his phone back, there was no denying the sudden irritation that contorted his features. It’s not like he expected this to not happen but… he doesn’t like what they’re implying. Yoongi studied him closely to see if he would get a response, but Jungkook gave nothing away. Instead he just ordered the tailor to pack the two suits he tried on so he could buy both, “I’ll meet you out there.”

Yoongi left Jungkook to get changed and while he stood alone in the fitting room staring up at your boudoir photos framed around him, he took his phone and dialed your number.

“Hello?” Your end of the call sounded hectic, louder and busier than his did. You were in the middle of an interview for Vogue and were taking a short break. It seemed like he called at just the right time since you were getting your makeup touched up.

“Are you busy?” Jungkook asked with a sharp tone that fell on deaf ears when the call went silent for a moment. He really did admire the photo of you, remembering just what it was like to trace his hands along your figure.

“Who is this?” You finally asked, making his jaw clench slightly.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh you see, I wouldn’t have known that considering you didn’t even say a hello or anything,” You told him in a sarcastic tone that made him want to smile but also roll his eyes, “Besides, I am busy.”

As if on cue, the call of your name in the background made your claim concrete. He bit his lip in thought, wondering what it was you were doing and how long it would take, “When can I see you?”

A smile played on your lips as you held up a finger to your assistant who was trying to hurry you along, “Did you make an appointment with my assistant?”

He couldn’t help but scoff as his gaze turned toward a glare, practically imagining that picture of you smiling at him, “I didn’t know I needed one, darling. When can I schedule one?”

“I’m not sure, i'll let you know,” you said and before Jungkook could respond, the call ended and he was left in shock that you just hung up on him. He gathered his things and met Yoongi outside to pay, completely bewildered by the fact that you just hung up on him so easily. He knows you haven’t spoken since the night of the wedding where you were forced to speak but this is all he gets?

“What took you so long?” Yoongi asked as they left Dolce & Gabbana with new things.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: Appointment scheduled for, 6:30 pm today, L/n Residence @ the Northbrook Estates

Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief at the confirmation of an appointed meeting with you tonight.

The night on the yacht had been unexpected yet also long-awaited and now that its done with, neither of you seemed to know what to do about it. You wont lie and say you didn’t enjoy that moment with him but you were also realistic. You and Jungkook would just never work out, you’re too different on the outside and that’s why you’re so confused now as to why he called you.

“So, Y/n, its been a busy season for you this year,” an interviewer said as the camera zoomed in on your expression as they continued, “Not only did you walk thirteen shows but I hear you also celebrated your close friends wedding. How was that? You must have been exhausted.”

“You know it was a lot but it was exciting, I hold my friends dearly and I’m just thankful I was able to make time for such an event,” you said and you’ll admit your response sounded scripted. You didn’t dive too deeply which is what you’re sure the interviewer wanted. You should have known that this stupid interview wouldn’t just be about your newly established modeling career.

Whether you’ve become Model of the Year for your catwalk, or for nepotism, you didn’t are much either way. All you cared about was the fact that the interviewer has found a way to slip in questions they didn’t need to know. It’s like you can just sense the things they’ll ask and have already prepared and calculated the exact responses you need to give.

“Of course, and what a star-studded party,” the interviewer continued, “The Best Man being Jeon Jungkook must have been exciting for you.”

“Well, we’ve all known each other for a long time now so…” You cleared your throat, looking a bit disinterested.

“Yes, of course,” the interviewer said with a nervous laugh, “And pardon me, Y/n, but I just have to ask, did anything happen between the two of you on this very intimate trip?”

Your smile strained but you never looked anything less than sweet as you said, “We are all just very close friends. Most of them have supported me in modeling.”

It was a clear attempt on your part to direct the conversation back to what it was supposed to be about. She ignored your last comment and said, “So… I guess we’re all curious, some pictures from the parties were released of the two of you awfully close in certain open waters, and an evident hickey on his neck—not to mention the matching clothes, please, is there something between you and the heir of Jeon Corporation?”

“Nothing that should concern you, no,” you smiled sweetly and the interviewer seemed to freeze up, unsure if she had gone too far in her questions.

Silence filled the space around them and there was no way to cut these parts out since it was a video shoot and after a while of the interviewer struggling to find which questions to ask, a person who worked for you stepped forward, “How about another short break?”

The interviewer released a shaky breath while the both of you made your way off camera and your glam team was quick to touch up your hair and makeup as the director of the shoot approached you, “Y/n darling, how are we feeling?”

“Annoyed,” you answered honestly, “I thought this was supposed to be about my modeling.”

“You’re absolutely right, darling, we apologize for any mistake we’ve done on our part, I—She must have taken it as an opportunity to ask her own questions and I promise you, we will have a deep conversation about this. We aren’t TMZ…” the director said and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m done filming if she’ll be the one continuing the interview,” You told him as you began to walk away from him, not caring for the excuses or whatever and you can hear your publicist repeat your words to him.

It wasn’t even that she was bad at her job or that she asked anything too deep but she just quickly got on your bad side with her persistence to not let the subject drop.

In the end you got your wish and filming ended smoothly before you were driven away to whatever was next in your schedule, trying not to think about the interview or the fact that there was a chance you would be seeing Jungkook later.

Things are evidently strange between you two and its not like you’ve been blind to the articles or posts about you but you don’t want to address anything. That night on the yacht seems like a fluke and like it shouldn’t have happened at all despite how you felt in the moment. Your parents aren’t the type to be invested in what is put in the tabloids but when their lifelong, country club going, friends call them and ask if there’s anything between you and Jeon Corporation’s Jungkook, they’re going to want answers.

It was just one night, one night where the two of you put aside whatever indifference you had toward each other just so you could release tension and this is the consequence for that. Of course everyone would want to know and of course no one was able to turn a blind eye to you. Even Yeonwoo managed to ask what you had been doing in the cabins withJungkook or so long that night and even when you tried to ignore her she kept pressing you for an answer.

In truth you had nothing to say. You were both adults and it didn’t matter if anyone else was dying to know if there was anything going on between you.

You resented each other.

You had sex.

Plus, he’s going to leave soon and you don’t think that bothers you?

When your driver pulled up to the tall skyscraper you called home, you headed inside alone.

“Good evening, Miss L/n,” the lobbyist held the door open for you, “You have a visitor waiting in the lobby.”

Your brows furrowed, checking the time before heading to the library where sure enough, Jeon Jungkook was sitting by the fireplace reading whatever magazine was set out for him. At the sound of your Miu Miu kitten heels, he turned staring at you with his big rounded eyes being the only thing you could see beside his face mask, “You’re early.”

Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist as he pressed his lips to your cheek in greeting and you did the same, he joined you in the elevator and said, “I like to get to my appointments early.”

“You’re lucky my shoot ended early or else you might have had to wait outside like a dog,” you teased as you pushed the button for the top floor where your penthouse was located. As part of the infinite amount of wealth your family has, you also dabble in real estate, mostly in the country as luxury apartments but you do have some homes overseas: Paris, New York, Argentina, etc.

The place you call home is a top floor penthouse with terrace and rooftop. The floor in which it was located was completely shut off for just you and included a private gym, yoga studio, three walk-in closets, and on top of that an elevator parking garage with a Mary Kay Pink Rolls Royce sitting pretty inside it.

Jungkook has never stepped foot in your home before and it was overwhelmingly stunning with four bedrooms, two living rooms (one on the top floor and one on the main floor too), an open kitchen, poolside terrace, and five bathrooms. You lived in ultimate modern luxury with traditional themes throughout the home like its hand carved wooden furniture and expensive marble walls.

“Is this different from your little magic treehouse in the woods you ran off to?” You asked, tempted to push his buttons as you removed your coat and handed it to your housekeeper who waited at the door.

“Well, considering my magic treehouse is worth 2.6 million dollars, no I wouldn’t consider this that different from it,” Jungkook couldn’t help but boast, feeling like he’s competing. It’s like when he was in school and the students would brag about whatever exotic trip they got to go in the summer and he would have to make sure to tell them what he did was better. “Maybe I’ll bring you with someday.”

Fuck. Why did he say that? Why is he indulging in any of this in the first place? You and Jungkook should never be together, right?

“Speaking of which, I thought you would have ran off now that the wedding is over,” You said as you mumbled something to the housekeeper making her leave, “Drink?”

“Water is fine,” Jungkook said as he made his way down to your 70’s inspired talking pit of suede Anabei sectional couches, “And I thought I would have been gone by now too”

“What changed?” You skied curiously, “Don’t tell me it's because you would miss me.”

You held your hand to your chest as if to seem touched by the thought and Jungkook just rolled his eyes as you continued, “How would all the other girls feel knowing I’m keeping you here?”

Jungkook scoffed as he practically pushed your legs off his lap, “Can you not joke for just one second?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even if part of you felt confused wondering if this was supposed to be a serious moment or not. Jungkook huffed, running his fingers through his black hair, “I’m here because I wanted to talk to you about all those articles. My parents are working on taking those down, are you okay?”

Your eyebrows knitted together with confusion, “Me? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I’ve never seen anything bad written about you and suddenly you’re being painted as a two-timer by spending a night with me while also… doing whatever it is you do with that friend of yours.” He was not jealous. He swears.

To be clear, there really is nothing going on with you and Jimin. You’re just two friends in the modeling world who happen to like attending secret parties together and maybe making out drunkenly every now and then. That’s it. You’ve never slept with him and Jimin has too many girls on his line for you to ever consider him.

“I’ll survive,” You mumbled as you looked over at him, seeing him in deep thought.

“I’m thinking of staying a while longer,” Jungkook said suddenly with a clear of his throat.

Jungkook was not the shy type and to be honest he’s not even sure why he’s letting you know [as if it made a difference] but the words just slipped out.

He did not like you.

Well, he didn’t like you like that. It sounds harsh he’s well aware of that but he was never romantically attracted to you before so how is he going to suddenly feel that way after only a week in contact again. Maybe it was just unresolved sexual tension after years of feeling that way but that can’t be the only thing that’s making him want to revert back to what his life was like before he left to live on his own.

He escaped all this so that he could live somewhere quietly and do what he really wanted to do without worrying about anything else. Now he’s contemplating moving back and possibly involving himself with his father’s business again. Too much is going on for him to understand why.

“For how long?” you asked as your fingers began to softly run through the ends of his hair making him look at you. You couldn’t hide your curiosity and how close the two of you are.

When he had pulled you down to sit with him, it was with your legs thrown over his lap which he had been caressing every now and then.

An arrogant smirk formed on his lips as he licked them, tapping your calf lightly, “How long do you want me here?”

Fuck, Jungkook is staying to get back in business… not for you.

It’s not for you.

It’s not for yo—

His breath hitched as a sudden weight shifted to his lap, his hands immediately went to your waist, helping you get comfortable on him. It’s embarrassing the way Jungkook didn’t hesitate to reach for you when you sat on his lap feeling your arms thrown around his neck, “Here as in…”

You looked down at the short skirt you wore which rolled up a little from how your legs straddled his thighs and said, “Under me?”

A scoff in disbelief left his lips as he couldn’t help but laugh, sliding your hips closer, “Yeah.”

It was attractive the way your conversations never seemed to fall unless you wanted them to. It was a constant cat and mouse game, banter back and forth and he catches on quickly.

You couldn’t help it, okay. Anytime you would see pictures of Jungkook since he left, he was always in a hoodie and sweats or something that just hid his entire body. Right now he’s wearing this Christian Dior white button-up shirt [which he rolled the sleeves up at some point since he got here] and it was messily untucking from his black slacks and he looks so hot right now. His hair was messy in a sexy way and he looked just like he used to, except this time with tattoos and a different sense of maturity.

Without wasting another moment debating if you should or shouldn’t, you leaned down and kissed him. Jungkook’s lips parted against yours, stretching his neck to kiss you with more need. Unlike the first night you kissed, this one wasn’t as rushed and angry. He took his time longer, pulling your bottom lip between his and doing it over again.

You pressed your chest against his, with your tongue swiping against his lip teasingly until you met his. Jungkook’s hands pinched the satin fabric of your skirt, feeling it tighten and rise, unable to stop the growing desire he was feeling for you. His briefs were getting tighter every time you shifted on his lap and whatever he had been thinking before you started making out.

“You want to play?” He asked, shifting his head to deepen the kiss without bumping noses. You pulled away feeling desperate to catch your breath as his kisses began to travel down toward your exposed neck, licking and nipping under your jaw while beginning to make

“Maybe,” you sighed in pleasure, running your hands through his hair when you felt him kiss down your collarbone, closer and closer down the deep-v in your Miu Miu chiffon top. The strap to your shirt slipped down your shoulder as Jungkook’s rough fingers traced down the side of your arms.

You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to go back to kiss your lips as you felt his growing erection press into you. It was hard for him to ignore the fact that the only thing covering what was under your skirt was a flimsy, thin piece of lace he shifted you closer until his bulge was tucked between your legs, placing your hips right over where he wanted them to be. Now that he moved you, his outline was more evident and had you grinding along him.

Jungkook released a groan with a sharp breath once he felt that sudden move and he couldn’t help but buck his hips against you, feeling the fabric of his briefs constrict his hardened cock. It was a frustrating feeling yet he felt so eager with his tongue down your throat and his covered dick tucked nicely between your covered folds that he couldn’t even think to stop and remove the layers.

His lips were feeling swollen against yours yet he didn’t want to pull away, the friction he was getting from the way you humped him was turning him on with how needy it felt. You kissed along his jaw, grinding against his aching dick while your nimble fingers began to unbutton his shirt.

“God damn,” Jungkook groaned as he threw his head back, relishing in the way your hips moved expertly against him while kissing down his naked chest. He slid his ass down your back, stopping over your butt and pulling your skirt out of the way for him to get a better feel of you underneath. With firm hands, he turned your sensual grinding into harsher and more deep movements that he met with his hips.

He’s not sure he could take just this any longer. Anytime he’s with you now it’s like he can’t do anything but fall for you and despite how annoying it is, he doesn’t do anything to stop it. Instead, he welcomes it and right now all he wants to do and rip off the remaining layers between you so he could have your legs wrapped around him once more. It’s only been days since the first time and he has not been able to stop thinking about it.

The day of the wedding he had been so distracted by you that he barely remembers any of it and now his best friends are on their honeymoon and he’s here thinking about you again.

Giving up on arguing how much he wants to have you, he wanted to get your clothes off and you were letting him. His hands had barely made it to the end of your top, ready to pull it off, when a loud ringtone cut through the living room, echoing off the walls and hard to ignore. The two of you looked at each other confused.

He sat up, reaching his hand into his pocket and pulling out his phone, annoyed that someone had thought to call him.

“Answer,” you said breathlessly as you looked at the caller, already sliding yourself off his lap.

“It’s just Hobi,” Jungkook said, letting out a huff in annoyance as he set his phone back down, turning to kiss you but it rang once again. Your eyes met his and he begrudgingly grabbed his phone and swiped to answer, “Hello?”

“Hey man, I just got off the phone with your Yoongi,” Hoseok said as he sat in a large closet filled with designer clothes, “And why am I always the last to know if you’re leaving or not?”

“What?” Jungkook looked visibly annoyed with his scrunched brows and tense jaw and for some reason that made him hotter to you. His shirt was undone completely and his belt was halfway pulled off and with his legs spread, it was very hard to ignore his hard on.

Your eyes softened with curiosity and you couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you decided to just go for it. First, your hand rested on his thigh as he listened to whatever Hoseok said, but slowly you made your way toward his bulge.

“You’re gonna start working with your dad again?” Hoseok asked, unaware of the way Jungkook’s attention had drifted down to the palm of your hand, right over his dick. Your fingers pressed against the underside of his member, massaging your palm into it and feeling the way his hips raised. “What happened to not caring about the money and the company and all that blah blah blah?”

Jungkook couldn’t help but roll his eyes, snapping back to his friend instead of what was going on. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, tightening their grip as if in warning. It was a useless attempt considering he tried helping you pull his belt off and saying, “Come on man, it was never like that.”

He could hear his own tone falter somewhere between lying and having his cock free from the confines of his tight briefs with your hand feeling him.

Hoseok laughed, debating what suit he should wear, “No, it’s exactly like that.”

Jungkook’s hand went to your head, softly caressing you as you kissed down his navel, your hand wet with spit, jerking him off while licking just above his dick. He didn’t bother with a response to his friend as he continued speaking anyway, “Is it true you and our princess are messing around? It’s all over the tabloids.”

Sarcasm was evident in Hoseok’s tone but Jungkook was too focused on your tongue licking up the length of his hard cock, wetting it with spit that made your hand movements smoother.

“Look I get it, you’ve had all this tension something was bound to happen but damn, why didn’t you tell me that either?” Hoseok asked with evident shock, unaware of the blowjob his friend was receiving on the other end. Your lips were wrapped tightly around his length and with your hand too, it was hard for Jungkook to keep his reactions to a minimum.

“Hobi, I—I, yknow I just,” Jungkook cleared his throat uncomfortably to hide an evident groan. He was beginning to fidget under your ministrations, especially when you squeezed under his cock, massaging his balls, “Sorry.”

“Sorry?! That’s all you gotta say after chewing me out for giving you condoms as a joke.” Hoseok was lying in a pile of Louis Vuitton suits on the floor, engrossed in his one-sided conversation, “Our friendship seems one-sided buddy. I thought when you came up to me… I thought, ‘Hey, maybe my good buddy Jungkook will get in this dandy hot tub with me’ but no, you know what you do instead? You ask where Y/n is! God I should’ve known—“

Jungkook threw his head back in a mixture of pleasure and obvious irritation that he couldn’t take it anymore. His finger pressed into the red button and the call was cut to end suddenly. As soon as his phone hit the couch, you pulled off his length with a deep huff for air, “That wasn’t very nice of you.”

“He’ll get over it,” Jungkook mumbled as he reached for your hand to pull you toward him, “Come here.”

“I’m not done,” you leaned away from the kiss he was trying to give you but his hand held your head in place, not caring to kiss the lips that had just been around his hard dick. Jungkook wasn’t as gentle as his need grew heavier and with a strategic pull at your top, it ripped down the back, “Jungkook!”

“What?” He asked with a giddy smile, tempted to be playful, “It was in my way.”

You rolled your eyes, sitting up to take your skirt off yourself and prevent another hazard while Jungkook finished undressing himself. “It was custom, asshole.”

Jungkook’s smile dropped with worry, lips parted in surprise until you burst out into a laugh and fell onto his lap, “You should see the look on your face.”

“Ha ha, don’t scare me like that,” Jungkook chuckled, “I was already thinking about the fortune I would have to pay to fix that.”

“Jungkook,” you ignored the fact that the two of you were naked, in the middle of an intimate moment and asked, “What did you mean earlier?”

“When?” Jungkook asked, caressing your leg, “About staying? Yeah, I’m serious.”

“You are?” You crossed your arms over your bare chest, “Why?”

“Why?” He was visibly taken back, “What do you mean why?”

“I mean… just a few days ago you were adamant on leaving right after the wedding and when you left the resort before everyone else we all kind of figured you had left but you’re here now and…” You took a deep breath in thought.

“Do you want me to leave?” Jungkook asked, sounding more hurt than he intended to. All this time pushing and pulling his feelings for how he felt about being here and seeing you was getting to him. He’s very aware how confusing he is and spending a night with you shouldn’t have changed his mind this quickly while he also refused to admit.

“We didn’t talk about what happened at the party,” you said suddenly, feeling Jungkook drape his shirt over your naked figure as the conversation shifted drastically.

“I know,” he dropped his head, “I’m sorry, I was really confused and I couldn’t tell what I was feeling or how you were feeling and I was mad and… I thought you probably didn’t care.”

“I mean, I didn’t,” you shrugged, “But because I figured it was just a one time thing since you were very obvious with how little you thought of me and now you’re saying you’re staying longer while visiting me at home and it just… I don’t get it.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jungkook was in his slacks again, trying to fix whatever mess he might have made over time, “I just… I was just being dumb. I wanted to act like I wasn’t into you at all because I was mad at everyone else and it wasn’t fair that I took it out on you but I thought you didn’t like me either.”

“And you’re right, you were mean to me,” you nudged him with your foot, “So really, I shouldn’t even be in this position with you right now.”

Jungkook didn’t dare argue when you called him out, “You always pretended to hate me even when you’d get jealous if someone else talked to me and you could never take your eyes off me.”

His brows furrowed, reminded of the trip and how everyone always joked that he wanted you when he was so stubborn on saying he didn’t. He didn’t like how predictable his life was.

“Because I knew everyone thought you were perfect,” Jungkook tried pulling you toward him, “And they didn’t know how you liked to push my buttons and say things you knew would get to my head and how you were actually so unbelievably perfect that it pissed me off everytime I let you get to me.”

“Don’t sweet talk me now,” you teased when he leaned over to lay between your legs, content with the sight of you in his Dior shirt, “How are you gonna repay me for being such a dick?”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook admitted, “Say the word and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“I have everything I want,” you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Come on Y/n, don’t make this hard on me,” he whined playfully, “Everyone else is already making it hard and I just want to spend the night with you. I’ll let you use me.”

Your brow raised and with a soft laugh you pulled him toward you for a kiss, “I get to use the Jeon Jungkook? What will everyone say?”

“That they saw it coming,” Jungkook chuckled as he pressed his lips to yours, “So don’t stop the inevitable.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling your arousal from earlier slowly make its return, “You’re so spoiled.”

“I know.”

Jeon Jungkook now knows what an awful liar he’s been these last couple of years. All of this talk about wanting to be different, break free from his family’s influences and the world of money and power, was meaningless in the end. He tried, he really did but his rebellion of running off and doing whatever he pleased, refusing to acknowledge the company, the wealth and the people in it was short lived because he never actually wanted to escape it.

He was still going to be friends with the people he grew up with and fall back to his old routine of country clubs and parading on yachts or private islands.

He was still going to take over his share of his father’s company and dress himself up in designer Kiton suits that he used to despise wearing.

He was still going to fall for you, the person he despised simply for being an exact reflection of himself. You were perfect for him in every way on paper and that made him want to push you away but in the end, he still fell for you like he knew he would.

Some people dream about having the life he does, or growing up the way he did and yet here he was selfishly wishing it all away. It was perfect, it was so insanely perfect and unfair that Jungkook ever thought he wouldn’t be happy with what he had been handed down to him for simply being born.

“This person gathered valuable experiences in the world and has shown such a strong will to portray it all into commitment for the company and that makes me a proud father,” A deep voice spoke from behind a podium with an echoing mic that had the attention of over a hundred people, “Please, welcome the newest V.P. for Jeon Corporation, my youngest son, Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook had an arrogant smile on his lips as he walked onto stage, thanking everyone for congratulating him on his quick and easy advance in the company—even surpassing his older brother.

“Honestly, it is a big thank you to everyone close to me, for helping me see how ready I am to step into this role and fulfill my duty as a member of this corporation,” Jungkook said confidently, looking at all his friends who had a mixture of confused yet knowing smiles on their faces.

“What a brat,” Hoseok joked with Namjoon, “And I blame you for this.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen someone get pulled back into the country’s good graces so easily,” Namjoon laughed, remembering all the articles about how my ridiculous Jungkook was for publicly stating he would never be a part of the company.

“That’s because he’s spoiled,” Jungkook’s older brother chimed in, “Even after he says he’s gonna walk away from it, he’s still gonna be welcomed back with open arms.”

Taehyung released a playful sigh, “I want to be Jeon Jungkook when I grow up, the perfect life just handed to me and I’m just too blind to appreciate it.”

“Tae, you’re rich,” Yeonwoo whispered to him, Taehyung grinning at her reminder and sitting up straighter.

“How was it?” Jungkook asked his friends as he looked around the table.

“Well rehearsed,” Taehyung gave him the thumbs up, “Also, where’s Y/n? I thought she’d be here.”

Jungkook checked the time on his watch, his leg already bouncing underneath the table, “Yeah, I thought so too.”

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal to him. This was all just some flashy way for his father to make Jungkook’s debut in the business widely anticipated and you had other things to do than be here. The two of you aren’t even officially together yet so it’s not like you owe it to him or anything.

“Y/n,” Jimin whined as he watched the valet open the limo door for you, “Please don’t ditch me. I’m your best friend, imagine how much fun we could be having. Everyone’s going to ask where you ran off to after the dinner.”

“Well you can tell them,” you hurried to finish applying your lip gloss, “That I had more important things to do than get drunk at some fashion party.”

“Right, just throw me to the side like I mean nothing,” Jimin said dramatically, “Is this how you treat friends now?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing he was only trying to cause a scene. Jimin knew you would be calling it an early night but he just wanted it to be difficult. With a small sigh, you double checked that you looked fine in the mirror and said, “Okay, wish me luck, I’m hoping I get laid tonight.”

“I also hope you get laid tonight so that I don’t have to listen to you talk about how much you want to see him,” Jimin said as you made your way out the car, “Goodnight.”

By the time you got to the banquet, the cameras had been long gone from the entrance and so you were able to make your appearance quietly. You would have been here earlier if there hadn’t been an ambassador dinner tonight that you had already agreed to do before Jungkook decided on staying and you just couldn’t miss it.

You felt bad because Jungkook had asked you to come be his date but he understood why you couldn’t make it right away. If anything he should be happy that you hurried over from dinner to the banquet without an outfit change. Despite the number of attendants, it was really a private affair with only a couple people from the press but nothing too grand and over the top. It made arriving late less miserable and finding Jungkook and your friends much easier.

And when you first involved yourself with Jungkook in this way, you should have known it wouldn’t all be easy. You were now somewhat seeing the most eligible bachelor in the country and nobody knows about it aside from speculation. Speculation won’t stop spoiled rich girls who want him to themselves and that’s what you saw when you found him.

“It’s so great to have you back Kooky, it’s like… the best thing to ever happen,” some girl gushed at him from the once empty seat to his left. She seemed unaffected by the stares she received from around the table and didn’t care at all that Jungkook wasn’t even glancing her way. He doesn’t know her, she’s probably just the daughter of some wealthy couple who thinks she has a chance with him.

Jungkook stared forward, watching his friends’ faces as their eyes softened, no longer listening to the girl who said, “Maybe we can get together some time.”

A gentle hand touched his shoulder, soft lips brushing against his ear as you said, “Maybe we can get together some time too.”

There was no denying the smile that grew on his face as he turned to look at you and how close you were to him. Jungkook’s lips parted in pleasant surprise, ready to talk to you when someone else spoke up.

“Excuse us, sweetheart,” Namjoon said to the girl, “It seems our table is full, maybe you can try somewhere else?”

She left with an annoyed scoff, making room for you to sit down, “Sorry I’m late, did any of you miss me?”

You had a sweet smile on your face, a camera clicked somewhere else in the distance surely capturing how close you were to Jungkook specifically, who was tracing his hand along your thigh.

“Dearly,” Jungkook said as he leaned into you for a quick kiss on the lips, “Thanks for coming.”

“I told you I’d try and make it,” you said to him, “I missed the speech didn’t I?”

“It was nothing special,” Jungkook’s hand began to slide down the space between your legs—or at least as far as your dress would let it, “Just the usual talk about how amazing I am, it was all very boring.”

“But I love talking about you,” Your tone was sarcastic yet flirty, your hand falling over his in warning when he began to pull up your dress just a little. You were sitting at a table with a large draped tablecloth that hid your legs underneath but you were still very aware of the fact that your friends were all around the table.

“Y/n,” Hoseok called for you from across the table, “How does it feel to have the Jeon Jungkook wrapped around your finger?”

Jungkook turned to his friend with a harsh glare, knowing he was just poking fun at it all but still managing to get under his skin. You looked at Jungkook with a knowing grin, “Like nothing I didn’t expect.”

He scoffed, squeezing your thigh possessively, “I think the feelings are mutual, darling.”

You leaned into him, not caring for being around so many important people with cameras trying to capture whatever moment they can, “They are.”

::.

a/n omg it took me literally forever to write this and idk how I feel about it but yknow what 😭it’s finished and that’s what matters. I was in the mood for some rich kdrama feel fic and I hope I managed to pull that off at least a litttlleeeeeeere

thanks for everyone that waited patiently and please feel free to lmk what you think <3

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @unnatae @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions of it]

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deathnotegenderbent · 5 months

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#death note #death note genderbent #lawlight #l lawliet #light yagami #light x l #Youtube #death note the musical #death note musical #playing his game #female light yagami #nonbinary l lawliet #l is nonbinary #death note fandub #death note fandub genderbent #genderbending #death note meme

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joelsgreys · 1 month

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baby, i’m yours

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You remind Joel that you’re his.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION however she does wear Joel’s t-shirt and he semi lifts her onto a counter? sorta but not really? UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (Joel is in his 50’s but reader’s specific age is not mentioned). established relationship, sort of. consumption of food (if you are allergic to peanuts, i so sorry). angst, Joel and Ellie’s strained relationship is lightly implied, Joel is insecure, it’s implied reader did some horrible things in her past, reassurance, brief smut, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, consider it a quickie idk. apologies if i missed anything.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: this short lil thing has been sitting in my drafts forever. i finished it while i was in ireland and finally had the chance to sit down and do a quick edit and when i say it was quick, i flew through it so i could hop onto my next wip so please excuse any errors! here’s a spotify link to the song if anyone’s curious, it’s an oldie but a goodie although it may not be everyone’s cup of tea.

main masterlist l fic notifs

Joel rolls over in bed, his arm outstretched and seeking the warmth of your soft, naked body.

“Mmph,” a small, sleepy groan falls from his lips as his long, thick fingers feel around on your side of the bed—of his bed. Of course, you have your very own bedroom in the house you all had been placed in when you first arrived in Jackson. Your very own bed to sleep in is just down the hallway, but lately, you’ve been waking up beside him a lot more often than not, especially now that Ellie’s a bit older and she’s gone and made herself her own space out in the garage behind the house. Being under the same roof as Joel did those two more harm than it did good, and while you missed having her around, it was for the best.

“She’ll come around, Joel,” you’d assured him. “I know she will. She just needs a bit of time is all.”

“Hope you’re right, darlin’,” he had murmured sadly in response.

Still lost somewhere in between sleep and full consciousness, Joel continues feeling around for you, but all he finds are the wrinkled sheets, cold and abandoned. Confused, his eyes finally flutter open and with a painful protest from his sore, stiff back, he sits up, blinking furiously as he looks around the darkness of his bedroom. The door’s been left cracked open ever so slightly, and as his vision adjusts now that he’s fully awake, he notices the dim glow of the hallway light that’s peeking through into the room.

He turns and glances over at the old digital alarm clock perched on his nightstand, the obnoxious, bright red numbers practically screaming at him that it’s a quarter past midnight. With a small, tired grunt, Joel switches on the lamp beside the clock and swings his legs over the side of the mattress, goosebumps erupting across his flesh the instant that his bare feet meet the cold, hardwood floor. He stands and fumbles around for his clothes, which he’d tossed carelessly somewhere over his shoulder hours earlier when he’d been lost in the heat of the moment with you. He finds his faded, navy blue sweatpants strewn across a chair next to the door and pulls them on over his naked lower body before searching for his t-shirt. When he doesn’t immediately see it, he doesn’t bother, figuring that it’s just going to come back off when he climbs back into bed with you.

Padding out of his bedroom, he makes his way down the hallway, heading towards the staircase. As he draws closer, he hears it—the soft music that’s coming from downstairs.

Baby, I'm yours

and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky

yours until the rivers all run dry

in other words, until I die

He’s led towards the kitchen and that’s where he finds you.

Joel wants to be annoyed.

Fuck, he tries to be annoyed. But he can’t help the way that the corners of his mouth threaten to turn upwards when his eyes take in the sight before him.

You’re standing at the center island slowly swaying your hips from side to side along to the beat of the song that’s playing from the record player perched next to the instant coffee maker on the counter behind you. He’d nearly wrung your neck when he found out what all you had traded just to get your hands on it, but you loved that thing more than life itself it seemed, so he couldn’t stay mad for very long. You’re making yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich—the peanut butter you’d learned how to make yourself with the old food processor he found deep in one of the kitchen cabinets, and the strawberry preserves you had picked up from the market earlier that week. Clad in nothing but his t-shirt, you’re singing along quietly to the lyrics as you finish making your late night snack.

Baby, I’m yours

and I’ll be yours until the sun no longer shines

yours until the poets run out of rhyme

in other words, until the end of time

Joel leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his bare chest as he watches you carefully lick the remnants of peanut butter off of the knife you’re using before setting it down on the counter. You then pick up the two pieces of bread and slap them together—you’d also learned how to bake homemade bread using some old nineties cookbook you had found in the commune’s library. Your sourdough is the reason he had to go up a notch in his belt.

Sandwich in hand, you do a little spin, humming happily as you take your first bite.

Joel loudly clears his throat from the doorway.

Startled, you whirl around and freeze, your eyes wide.

“Enjoyin’ yourself there, darlin’?” He asks amusedly as he approaches you.

“Jesus Christ! You scared me, Joel!” You hiss at him. You then realize what time of night it is and a look of guilt crosses your features. “Oh shit. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I honestly thought that I had the volume down low enough in here—”

Frowning, you turn around and reach towards the record player to turn the music off, but much to your surprise, Joel stops you. “No, s’okay. I woke up on my own,” he assures you. “I reached over for you and you were gone.” The admission slips before he can even think to stop it. He notices how taken aback you are by what he’d just said and quickly asks, “What’cha doin’ up so late, anyway?”

“I was hungry,” you tell him, sheepishly holding up your food. You always have one hell of an appetite after Joel was through fucking you senseless. You take another bite and offer it to him. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

He accepts and takes a corner of the sandwich before handing it back to you. His fingers brush against yours and his face burns at the contact.

Fucking Christ.

You’re standing there in nothing but his fucking t-shirt after he had, yet again, made you his in his own fucking bed, and that’s what gets him?

Truth be told, the only time he holds your hand is when he’s inside of you—his fingers lace with your own as he comforts you and praises you for being such a good girl for taking his cock the way you do.

For being so, so fucking good for him.

He’s thought about taking your hand in front of others. Particularly when he notices the way some of the men in town stare at you. Joel wants to make it known that you’re already spoken for. Only, you’re not spoken for, not really.

You’re his, but you’re not really his. It’s not that he doesn’t want to take the leap and acknowledge the two of you are far more than just patrol partners, far more than just two people who fought like fucking hell to get some smart assed teenager—and the world’s only hope for a cure—across the country.

He feels undeserving of it. Of you and your heart.

Several seasons had come and gone since you’d both arrived in Jackson with Ellie in tow, and somehow, Joel still can’t fathom what you’re doing by his side. She’s out of the house now and there’s nothing tying you to him, so why are you still here?

He’s so much older. Closer and closer to being on his way out, while you still had your entire life left ahead of you. He’s worn down, hardened from the post outbreak world. And you, you hadn’t lost any of your softness, your sweetness. Not even after the things you’d been forced to do to survive because of him.

You could meet someone younger, someone closer to your own age. You could marry, even start a family. You could be with someone who could give you a good life, the life you deserve.

The life that he’s too fucking broken to give you.

“Joel?” Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. M’fine.” He gestures to the record player with a nod of his head. “Y’know, this song’s older than me. By a few years. Came out in the early sixties.”

Joel half expects you to make some wisecrack joke and tease him over his age like you have done in the past—especially when the kid would get you going. Instead, he watches you set what’s left of your sandwich down and brush the crumbs from your hands before holding one of them out to him.

Confused, he stares at it for a moment before his dark eyes meet yours. “What are you doin’?”

“Dance with me,” you say, smiling at him.

“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right?” When he realizes you’re being serious, he shakes his head. “Y’know I don’t—I can’t dance.”

Dropping your hand back down to your side, you turn around and flip the record, starting the song over again before whirling back around and taking Joel’s hands in yours.

“Just follow my lead,” you tell him as you place them on your waist. Your own hands settle themselves on his broad shoulders, his skin warm beneath your fingertips. “Don’t overthink it.”

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” Joel grumbles underneath his breath, however he finds himself moving along with you without further protest. Subconsciously, he pulls you closer against him as the two of you slowly sway from side to side along to the beat of the music. He chuckles, “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

“And your point is?” You rest your head on his shoulder and exhale a soft, contended sigh.

Joel’s lips threaten to pull down once more.

Could it be that you’re actually content with him?

Head still on his shoulder, you sing along softly with Barbara Lewis.

“I’m gonna stay right here by your side

do my best to keep you satisfied

nothing in this world can drive me away

‘cause every day you'll hear me say…”

It quickly becomes too much for him. Joel’s hands leave your waist. Taking your wrists, he tugs your arms from around his neck and gently pushes you away from him. “Why?” he finally asks the question that’s been hanging off the tip of his tongue for the better part of the last three years. “Why me?”

You stare at him, puzzled. “What?”

“Why me?” he repeats himself. “Why me when you can have anyone else—”

Your reply is prompt and you say it so simply.

“Because I don’t want anyone else.”

“You deserve better.”

You peer at him curiously. “I deserve better?”

“You do. Ain’t got no business being with someone like me. After all the terrible shit I’ve done—”

“I did the same exact shit, Joel. Sometimes I did even fucking worse.” Somehow, softness laces your tone. You have never been angry with him and you weren’t about to start now. “What makes my hands any cleaner than yours?”

Joel begins to sputter. “M’older than you. Much older. Should’a been a lot more careful. Should’a done more so you didn’t have to do those things.”

His hands still curled around your wrists, you reach up and gingerly cradle the sides of his face. He winces, but then quickly melts into your touch, the very same touch that could heal his wounds, if only he would allow it.

“I made my own choices,” you remind him, quietly. Neither of you realize the music has stopped. “Quit acting like blood doesn’t stain my hands too because it does.”

His lips press into a tight line. “Blood stains your hands ‘cause of me. S’my fault. I was responsible for you. I was s’pposed to take care of you. I didn’t protect you the way I should’ve.”

You sigh.

“When are you going to stop blaming yourself, Joel?”

The muscle in his jaw ticks as it clenches. He averts his gaze, his eyes falling to the floor. He doesn’t answer.

You stroke the scruff of his beard lightly with your thumbs. “When are you going to stop thinking you’re not good enough for me? What’s it going to take for me to prove to you that you are all I could ever need and want?”

“You’re just wastin’ your fuckin’ life on me, darlin’. S’the truth and you fuckin’ know it as well as I do.”

Pulling your wrists out of his hands, you pivot on your heel and suck in a sharp breath, stubbornly blinking back the tears stinging your eyes. You’re frustrated.

It cuts you to your very core to know the man you’ve grown to love more than anything and anyone else on what’s left of this fucking planet can’t see that he’s enough. He’s more than enough.

Joel bites back his own frustrated sigh. He knows he can’t rely on you to tell him, rely on the reassurance—he needs to do his part and believe it. If he keeps trying to push you away, he just may very well succeed one day. He will lose you.

After a moment, he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around you, his lips lightly brushing your neck. “M’sorry,” he mumbles, his own voice thickening as a lump forms in the back of his throat. He’s quick to swallow it down. “Jus’ have a hard time believin’ you’re mine. S’almost like my mind is lookin’ to prove me wrong.”

“But I am yours, Joel. I’m yours, I’m fucking yours.”

It’s more than just reassurance. It’s an oath, one you’ll honor for the rest of your life.

He holds you tighter. “Yeah?” He nips at the delicate spot right below your ear, his teeth scraping along tender flesh. “S’that right, baby? You’re all mine?”

“All yours,” you confirm breathlessly as his hands slowly begin trailing down the length of your sides, his fingers skimming the hem of his t-shirt.

Joel swiftly turns you around in his arms and slips his hand between your thighs. The next thing you know, he has you backed up against the counter and he’s shoving his sweatpants down, freeing his hard, thick cock. With one of your legs hooked around his waist, he buries himself into the warmth of your cunt and begins to deliver smooth, languid strokes.

“Say it again, baby,” he rasps into your neck. He coaxes your other leg up and around his waist and his large hands curl securely underneath your thighs as he bucks up into you. He’d deal with the back pain later. He pants, “Need—need to hear you say it, my sweet girl.”

You hold onto the countertop behind you as he fucks you, your fingernails digging into the laminated wood. “Fuck, I’m yours,” you moan into his shoulder. “I’m all yours, Joel. Oh fuck—”

You say it over and over again and he believes it.

He finally fucking believes it.

Sweet nothings fall from his lips with each thrust.

“S’lucky you’re all fuckin’ mine.”

“My beautiful, beautiful girl.”

“Gonna keep you for the rest of my fuckin’ life.”

When he spills into you, there’s no regret on his part nor yours. You’d always wanted to feel him come inside of you—secretly, so did he. Joel’s deep, guttural groans bounce off of the kitchen walls as your pussy fills with him, with all of him, taking as much as it can before he begins leaking out of you and down the insides of your thighs.

“Jesus,” he exhales. He dips his head for a kiss. “You’re all messy now, baby,” he mumbles against your lips. “How’s about we go upstairs and get back into bed so I can clean you up?”

Giggling, you mimic him and remind him of what he’d said earlier. “Y’know we gotta be up at the asscrack of dawn for patrol, right?”

Joel grins. “And your point is?”

You laugh again as he leads you out of the kitchen and back up to his bedroom—to yours and his bedroom.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller drabble #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel fic

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gojolatte · 25 days

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❝ seeing your nudes ❞ ‣ jjk headcanon

❝synopsis❞ ‣ okay but accidents happen and well, they didn't mean to look at something that wasn't meant for them. it sort of just happened. - or - when they accidentally see their friend(s) gf/wife nudes.

・❥・PAIRING(S) › jjk men x female!reader ・❥・GENRE(S) › fluff/(little)smut ・❥・WORD(S) › 2k+ ・❥・WARNING(S) › yuji & megumi are aged up (always), jjk men seeing other men gf/wife nudes, various nip piercings, various v*g piercings, facials, description of the girls nudes. ・❥・POST DATE › 03/31/2024

❝featuring❞ ‣ nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna, & geto suguru ♡

‣ nanami kento ♡ ↳ accidentally sees satoru's wife.

Nanami didn't ask for this.

Although, it's the universe's fault for making you absolutely gorgeous. Any person with eyes can see that and well, he gets why Satoru would want to set you as his homescreen background but... he doesn't get why it's a picture like this. He didn't want to see you like this without your explicit permission. What was Satoru thinking? Does he not have any shame?

Nanami attempted to distract himself from the image he had seen. Anything that will make his boner deflate as quick as possible. He doesn't think Satoru minds (because he loves to show you off) but this has to be crossing the line, right?

“You alright, Nanamin?”

Satoru meets his eyes and, of course, Kento can't figure out the words to say when he sees Satoru’s grin.

“You look pale.”

“I-I’m fine, Satoru.” Kento tries to make his voice sound even but he knows he's failing. Miserably.

Satoru only hums as he glances down when his phone lights up. It's then that he realizes what it was that's gotten his attention.

“She's pretty, isn't she?” Satoru grins when you text him again. “She set it to that.”

Kento swallows hard, clearing his throat as he tries to adjust himself. The sight of your arms tied above your arms with what looks like one of Satoru’s button-up shirts. Its open wide, giving Kento full view of your body as he didn't realize you had a tattoo below your breast and shit, it was so fucking hot. Bedroom eyes, tears streaming down your face and how does someone look so sexy while crying?

He has your left leg over his shoulder, the right bent to your chest and it looks like he took it right after you climaxed.

You look so out of it, so serine, and fuck Kento would give anything to see that expression in person. And fuck did you also have a piercing above your clit area?

He tried to ignore it. Ignore Satoru and his little comments about you.

It isn't until he glances over to see Satoru looking at a picture of your pussy on his phone that Kento loses the fight. He wonders how you'd taste, the beautiful jewel sitting gorgeously above the hood of your clit that he finds himself imagining his tongue just playing with it.

And those thoughts alone have Kento spiraling.

“S-She's very pretty.” He knows he shouldn't commute the images to memory but fucking hell, you’re so beautiful.

“I know she is.” Ever so cocky but he can't blame him because if you were his wife, he would be too.

‣ fushiguro megumi ♡ ↳ accidentally sees toji's girlfriend. (Yuji & Megumi are aged up)

It wasn’t Megumi’s fault, he swears! He was looking for a photo of you to show Yuuji and of course, his father doesn’t know much about iPhones. He doesn’t know he can hide your explicit photos behind a facial lock and with him being curious, that led him to click on a photo that wasn’t for his eyes to see.

“You okay, Megs?” Yuuji inquires, worry etched in his eyes as his friend's cheeks turn beet red. ”Are you not feeling well?’

“I-I’m fine!” Megumi splutters, coughing to clear his throat. Shit. Yuuji can’t see this. He shouldn’t be seeing this.

“What is it?”

“Nothing! It’s nothing.” Megumi groans before closing the photos app completely and tossing his father’s phone to the side of the couch like it scorched his hand. “L-Let’s go do something else!”

“Oh, I thought you were going to show me a picture of your stepmom?” It’s an innocent question, one that wouldn’t have Megumi blushing like he was back in high school if it wasn’t for that picture.

“Y-You’ll see her later.”

“Oh! Great! I can’t wait to meet her!” Yuuji's innocence makes Megumi wish he could take back the last couple minutes or scrub the image of your face with (no doubt) his dad’s cum all over it to preserve his prenotion of you.

“Where’s my phone?” Toji’s voice booms from behind the boys as both point toward the edge of the couch where the device landed. “Why is it over there?”

“Oh! Megumi was showing me a picture of his mom!”

Toji’s face scrunches into confusion before glancing at his son who was trying to hide the embarrassment he was sure was written on his face from his dad.

“Did yo-”

“Yes? Sorry.” It comes out rushed but it has Toji cursing at the thought of his son seeing you in all the provocative positions he’d put you in.

“Next time ask me.”

Megumi nods (because what else is there to say?). He gets up to hastily make his way to his room as his situation continues to grow and Yuji calls after him.

‣ ryomen sukuna ♡ ↳ accidentally sees yuji's girlfriend (not really. it was on purpose lol).

Sukuna opening an eye on Yuuji’s cheek to see what the brat was gawking at. He can feel the warmth rushing through their shared body.

Curiosity overtakes him as he watches the brat swipe through photo after photo of you. His eyes lock on one that you took, finger against your lip as he can see your breast sitting so pretty. It's a half-body picture and fuck, Sukuna wants to see that sweet cunt of yours but he can view of the real thing later.

"Isn't she a sight for sore eyes."

"Wha-"

“You’re a pervert.” Sukuna snickers, “In public. Really?”

“Shut up!”

Yuji can’t help the blush that spreads over his cheeks, the heat becoming unbearable the more Sukuna ridicules him. It's not his fault you have him this down bad.

“I’ll admit. She’s got a pretty p-” Yuji rushes to cover the mouth on his face as he hears Sukuna cackle behind it. Why now? Why did he have to get horny on the way home???

He quickly shoves his phone into his pocket, tapping his foot impatiently and listening to Sukuna talk about you in ways he hates in his head.

‘She’s got a pretty pussy, I’d love to bury my face in it.’

‘You’re lucky I haven’t taken over while you’re balls deep in her.’

‘She’ll be begging for me once she gets a taste of what a man can do.’

Yuji is seething, red blurring his vision but there’s nothing he can do right now. So he half-ass listens to the intruder in his head, letting his anger bubble beneath the surface.

He knows Sukuna’s not joking. It's not the first time he's expressed interest in you. He wonders what makes you different that Sukuna would want to risk it for you.

He’s not even phased that Yuji is cursing Sukuna in his head, it won’t deter him from his prize.

You.

He can't wait to take part when Yuji least expects it.

‣ kamo choso ♡ ↳ accidentally sees yuji's girlfriend.

“Yuuji!” Choso calls to his brother as Yuji practically jumps up from the couch to see what’s wrong. He’s confused, however, when nothing is physically wrong. His brother’s face is slightly redder than it usually is.

“Choso? What’s wrong?”

He practically shoves the phone into his brother's hand before rushing past him to get to his room. Is he having a mental crisis? Yes because he hadn’t expected to see you like that. And also because he doesn’t know what Yuji will do.

“Choso?” He hears Yuji knock quietly. “Are you okay?”

“N-No. I’m sorry. I promise I wasn’t trying to snoop!”

“What happened.”

“Your girlfriend… She-” Choso stops talking the moment the realization dawns on Yuuji.

“It’s okay!” Yuji smiles, going to message to see what you’d sent him. His breath hitches as he sees the mirror shot you sent him. Your back toward the mirror as the pretty red thong sits snugly between your cheeks as the bra has a big mesh bow on the front of it. Your breast looks fucking amazing and it makes Yuji turn redder than Choso.

He never knows how to handle it when you send him things like this.

“Fuck. Um, you don’t-’

“It’s okay, Yuji.” Choso tries to smile but it comes off as a grimace. Yuji nods, before turning and tailing it back toward his room to call you, leaving Choso sitting on his bed to contemplate what to do. He feels horrible that he can’t get that image of you out of his head.

He feels worse that he’s horny because of it.

‣ gojo satoru ♡ ↳ accidentally sees kento's wife.

Okay, but it wasn't Satoru’s fault! Really! How was he supposed to know that if he kept swiping right, he would see something he shouldn't have? Something meant for Kento's eyes only.

And fucking Kento. Why did he have your nudes just out for anyone to come across?! If it was Satoru, he would be gatekeeping the hell out of them. Away from everyone's view!

But damn, was it a fucking sight.

Satoru couldn't unsee it even if he wanted to (and trust he doesn't, he just wishes it was his cock in side of you). Your head thrown back in absolute ecstasy, making his cock stir just thinking about how you would feel sitting on his cock.

Your breasts (so round and soft looking, he knows they would fit perfectly in his large hands) made Satoru want to caress every inch of your skin. He didn't know you had a belly button piercing but why was it the sexiest thing he's seen.

How did Kento get so lucky?!

He tries not to let the picture affect him even if he can feel his cheeks run hot the more he stares at it.

Satoru had always thought you had a banging body, beautiful as hell too. He was unsure of how Nanami was able to snag you. Was it through a dating app? Maybe it was a chance meeting somewhere?

So he commutes the picture to memory.

"What's wrong?”

“Ah, nothing!” Satoru quickly swipes back to the picture of you standing in front of a beautiful sunset before handing Nanami his phone back. “Cute vacation photos!”

He's sure his smile looks more like a grimace as Nanami looks highly confused. It isn't until he accidentally swipes right after Satoru is gone that he realizes his mistake.

Shit.

‣ geto suguru ♡ ↳ accidentally sees satoru's girlfriend.

Suguru knew his best friend's girlfriend was a doll. You were Satoru's dream girl after all (he only knew because he said it all the damn time).

Although Suguru never paid the two of you any mind, he did think you were cute but you were taken and well, Suguru isn't a homewrecker.

At least, he wouldn't consider himself one until his thought process changed the day he was able to sit down and have a very mature conversation with you. One he knew he wouldn't be able to have with Satoru or even Shoko. Your take on the subject matter was informative and it made him wonder how his childish best friend was able to pull someone like you.

He knew his crush blossomed from that day and every other day you had conversations with him but...

What he didn't know was how deep that crush ran. It seemed as if it was getting harder and harder to not see you as just a friend.

And well, the day he saw your nudes on display on Satoru's desktop screen was the icing on the cake for him. He should have left it sitting idle. He shouldn't have touched anything. His mistake? Moving the mouse. It made everything disappear while leaving you on display for anyone to see.

His mistake.

The picture in question was of you, nude as you're smiling at the camera with your knees pressed to your chest and giving him a very pretty view of your pussy. He can see how wet your pussy is, little hints of cream around your pussy entrance too. He can also see a pieces of metal running through your nipoles. Fuck, nipple piercing too?

That's so hot!

It makes his mouth waters and fuck does he wanna know how good you taste so much that he finds himself licking his lips.

He eyes the collar dawning your neck. 'Satoru' embedded in gold. It compliments your skin that's shines with a sheen of sweat, making Suguru feel things he shouldn't feel for his best friends girlfriend.

He's sure Satoru is the one behind the camera because who else would it be? It all sends his mind into a whirlwind of scenarios that his brain should not have conjured out between the three of you.

He tries to clear his throat when the second picture pops up and Suguru is sure he is going to burst right there. You bent over with your ass in the air. Cheeks spread and he's able to see both holes (your pussy glistening and making him lick his lips). He knows it’s Satoru’s dick settled (no doubt he was about to push it back in) and he can't help the slight color that spread along his cheeks.

He doesn't realize he's still staring at the screen, unwavering until he realizes Satoru is calling his name. It brings him back to his reality.

“Suguru!”

“Yeah? Y-Yes!” Suguru clears his throat but poor Suguru, Satoru already knows he saw them. “ ‘m Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you liked what you saw.” Satoru’s brow raises in question and well shit, Suguru was caught.

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iddybiddysquish · 9 months

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Fate - Chapter 5

Masterlist

Very minor self insert/OC that I've made into a vague reader insert that involves the reader being concerningly intertwined with Kira and his happenings against their will and seemingly against fate.

Fandom: Death Note

Gender: Female

Notes:

Feedback is welcomed and I hope you have a good time reading!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

- December 25 -

“Merry fucking Christmas…” I glared up at my ceiling, any Christmas spirit I had left being far too small to hide my true misery.

Once again, there were nightmares. And, once again, I woke up panicked and crying. And, once again-

“I am alone.” I sighed, my face softening as I looked to my right, massaging the area slightly, almost as though I expected to feel something I couldn’t see.

After a moment or two my hand dropped and ceased moving, my gaze returning to the ceiling. After blowing some air, I finally convinced myself to get up and ready for my psych eval by the psychiatrist today.

‘Today of all days is difficult…’ I noted as I stripped off and began to sort out my bandages, ‘Christmas was something I could finally celebrate in a way I had always wanted to, with him…’

I quickly wiped away stray tears aggressively, not in the mood to deal with my own shit right now.

‘Now he’s gone and with it he took any semblance of celebratory spirit I ever had, which, really, wasn’t great to begin with, though the absence of it hitting even harder than it would have before, given he gave me more celebratory spirit from when I met him.’ I gave a sad, airly laugh as I began to get dressed, ‘He never even celebrated holidays as he grew up, so lord knows how he made me more inclined to celebrate the holidays myself…’

Pushing the thoughts aside, I attempted to motivate myself by eating my favourite breakfast whilst packing my bag for the trip. It’s not often I need to alter it, since it’s mostly just the basics like my purse, headphones and notebook. However, after asking google what the weather is like, I decided to add in an umbrella; the only one I could find, sadly, was a plain dark red one with a fabric cover.

‘Man where the fuck did I put the sakura one mama got me?’ I pouted, ‘I should try and get another one of those; the hard plastic cover stops the rain from dripping in my bag… Maybe online?’

After noting that idea down, I put it to the back of my mind and put on my coat and scarf before leaving. Almost immediately, after locking my door and putting my keys away, I texted Mono to say I was leaving, just to keep him informed. From there I made my way to the bus stop and jogged under the bus shelter as the rain started, with a huff as I sat down.

I didn’t have to wait long before the bus came.

‘Thank god for reliable public transport.’ I praised as I stepped onto the bus, my bus pass already ready, ‘I suppose that’s a pretty big positive about living in a big city.’

Getting the all clear, I thanked the driver and made my way to my seat. Plopping down, I took a deep breath before putting my headphones on and playing some music, eyes darting from the window to the doors each time we stopped, small but noticeable levels of anxiety raising its head.

‘To be honest, I was anxious before even getting to the bus stop…’ I confessed, ‘The psychiatrist has much more power over me and my choice than the psychologist.’ I bit my lip, ‘Unlike my psychologist, my psychiatrist can end my life by playing with my medications or sectioning me against my will; the psychologist doesn’t have that power without a psych consult, which is conducted by a psychiatrist.’

When the bus arrived, I took a deep breath as I got off and pushed those negative thoughts aside before falling back on rationalising against them when that didn’t work.

‘They don’t have that power, exactly. They can’t just remove the medication without a lawsuit and they can’t just put me in a ward. The amount of paperwork, time and approval required makes it difficult for people to be sectioned against their will; I need to remember this.’

And with that, I strode into the correct hospital entrance and alerted the receptionist of my presence. After being marked as arrived, I took my seat and waited for the psychiatrist to come and collect me.

‘I’m five minutes early.’ I puffed some air as I deflated, ‘With his schedule, that means I need to add that to, about, fifteen minutes before he’ll come and collect me. After all, he always overruns with patients and, as a result, is always late…’

Unsurprisingly, I was correct in assuming he was late, though it was more like twenty five minutes than the twenty I had originally calculated. But, regardless, I said nothing, only batting away his apologies as he gave them, before following him and taking a seat in the room he had led me to.

We had an hour and he had had a fair run down from my psychologist, but regardless he asked the usual important questions and any others he deemed necessary for me surrounding the situation. One of those obviously included asking what actually happened and, as a result, what am I struggling with, though of course he was much more compassionate his words were put in a far more gentle manner. It felt good to talk to someone who could give more immediate results and who was far more focused on what can be done about it, rather than how I feel about it. But then again, that’s why therapy is much harder than psychiatry, for me, at least; expressing and accepting how you feel is far harder than simply taking a pill and shrugging it off to the back of your mind. That’s why people tend to respond best to treatment that harnesses both, albeit, only really those who are ready for the therapy they need.

I hardly felt the hour as it ticked away, being too embroiled in the task at hand. So when the psychiatrist jumped at the time, noting we had gone over half an hour already, I, too, was shocked.

“I suppose, getting to the point, as it were,” he begun, earning a nod from me for him to continue, “I think we should up your duloxetine from 60mg to 120mg as we know it works well for your anxiety and post traumatic stress disorder.” he liked his lips as he noted down his conclusions, before adding, “It’s is known to work well for acute stress disorder, of which there is no doubt that you’re experiencing,” I nodded as he looked up, “but it’s also known to help nightmares, so we’ll try that before considering any new medication, especially given the amount you are already on…” he noted, a deep frown evident as he clearly looked over my medication list, “I mean you’re on some very serious stuff here and we want quality, not quantity, I suppose you could say.” I chuckled, nodding in agreement.

“No, yes. Definitely.” I agreed, “That sounds like a good idea.” I nodded, “I can only hope this to be temporary, so adding in another medication sounds slightly…” I itched my cheek as I searched for the word, “counterintuitive?” he nodded.

“Yes. And given how you responded to SSRIs, we’d be looking at another SNRI and-” he sighed, shaking his head before giving a kind smile, “Over complicating things, I think.” I nodded.

“I’m assuming the others are fine as are?” he nodded, back on track.

“Yes, I see no reason to up or reduce any of them for the moment. However I do want to see you again in, say, a month’s time just to see how well you’re doing with the duloxetine.” I nodded, though he added, “And, as per usual, if there are any issues, call us. You know your body and your medications so, if you have to lower it for whatever reason, you naturally are free to do so, but please get an appointment so we can try and figure out where to go from there, okay?” I immediately nodded.

“Same for quetiapine, aripiprazole, olanzapine and lorazepam, yeah?” I begged, earning a sharp nod.

“Exactly. Take the lorazepam as needed - no more than 5mg, though if you feel you need it most days, which should go down after increasing the duloxetine, I would recommend staying on 2.5mg.” he noted, hand motions being used to emphasis his points, “If the other three need upped or downed, you have the power to change the dosage and request that amount from the GP, on repeat. I’ll make sure to clarify that in my next letter, just in case.” I gave a slight sigh of relief, nodding.

“Thanks. You know how finicky they can be.” he chuckled at this, nodding in agreement with a knowing look.

“The mere concept of a psychiatrist allowing a patient some reign over their medications can leave GPs uncomfortable, given they then have to provide that medication.” she shrugged, arms out with an unsure expression, “Maybe it's a lawsuit thing, I don’t know, but it makes them uncomfortable.” I nodded.

“Don’t. As soon as they hear just quetiapine they look visibly concerned-” I paused, “But then again I suspect that was because I was seventeen, more than anything…” he nodded.

“Yes we don’t like to put young people on these medications.” he sighed, “If I’m honest, I’m very concerned about you being on these medications.” I felt my gut twist and a lump in my throat form, “Really it’s not proper. However, I’m hesitant to change anything given how well it has been working for you up till now, and, again, to play with your medications given what you’ve gone through would be very poor timing.” he sighed, shaking his head. I, too, sighed, but nodded.

“I will certainly agree with that. But, honestly, I just want to feel how I did before Harold and everything he did.” I noted, the mention of his name gaining all of his attention, given how much I avoid mentioning my late partner, “And these medications did the trick.” I shrugged, “I genuinely have hope for the duloxetine to fix this… blip. When you take away the ferocity of the nightmares, nothing really has changed.” I revealed, making the doctor frown.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, I’ve always had PTSD and I’ve always had nightmares, intrusive thoughts and anxiety.” I shrugged one shoulder, only dropping it after I finished speaking, “Medication-wise, I’m exactly the same, but just a bit more anxious. Ultimately, I can only get over this in the end with therapy; the medication is just to help me along the way, even if I die before the journey ends, say, in old age.” the doctor frowned in thought at this before slowly nodding.

“I see what you mean…” he rubbed his chin, clearly in thought. However, after a few moments, he put his paper and pen down and lent over so his hands were on his knees, “Like I said, I’m not going to entertain playing around with your medications for a while, so there’s no need to worry about that. We need to stabilize you as much as we can and, then, once you’ve been stable for a while, we’ll consider trying to wean you off - which has always, and will always be the end goal, for patients on these atypical antipsychotics.” I nodded.

“And if it doesn’t work, I can always go back up, no harm no foul.” I gave a relaxed exhale, “That seems fair to me.” he smiled, nodding. I couldn’t help but add, “Thanks for understanding.” I sighed, “I’ve been threatened with removal and changes so much it scares me, the idea of coming off of them, knowing the state I was in that made me require them in the first place.” he nodded.

“That’s completely understandable. What you experienced is, at best, traumatising. Lacking control and being incapable of trusting anyone is a terrifying experience.” he noted, “I mean you’ve been diagnosed with bipolar I, Bipolar II, cyclothymia, mixed depression, some kind of paraphrenia-like condition, schizophreniform, schizophrenia, schizoaffective disorder, psychotic disorders, delusion disorder, a multitude of anxiety disorders, including panic disorder, as well as dissociative identity disorder and mixed dissociative disorder and an array of personality disorders.” he sighed, “Thats ignoring stress disorders and specifiers.” he leaned forward, “If I may be frank?” I resisted the urge to raise a brow and simply nodded for him to continue. He did.

“I have only seen you to make sure your medications are working, to assess you for post traumatic stress disorder, and now acute stress disorder, but I have seen others that are symptomatic. Even without reading your files or having spoken to you, for you to have one of these labels, nevermind comorbidly,” he shook his head, “Its certain that you have undoubtedly undergone considerable hardships.” I gave a silent sigh as I looked down, nodding as I did.

He was completely correct, of course.

‘Ignoring the conditions themselves, the ballache I went through to get both diagnosed and medicated was in of itself able to give me PTSD alone.’ I bit my lip, ‘I wasn’t medicated for bipolar, psychosis or anxiety for eight and nine years. Wasn’t stable from either for another three.’ I looked down at the floor, ‘Didn’t get any actual diagnoses until we moved to Canada, a year ago. Couldn’t get the doctors to prescribe the meds we thought I needed, so we had to get them prescribed from India using Harold's father’s friends, of whom were all qualified doctors. None of this takes into account the physical disabilities of which I’ve also suffered.’ I gave another sigh, ‘And that leads us to today, and how I got the medication combination I am on today… It’s madness, and I knew that, but I also knew that it would work, and it has.’

The doctor and I wrapped things up pretty soon after, him looking a bit guilty for the delay caused to his next patient. However, we left on cheerier grounds than that last moment of honesty, and he came to see me out, reminding me that I’d get a letter regarding the next appointment, which was fine with me.

However, as soon as I had finished putting my scarf and coat on, he motioned me over and spoke slightly low.

“I almost forgot.” he noted sheepishly. Being as curious as I was, he had gripped my attention easily. I gave an airy laugh and motioned for him to continue.

“Have you given a statement to the police about your… experience?” he begged. I blinked, shaking my head immediately before mentioning the hospital visit and how no police were there. Of course, he nodded in understanding, before insisting, “I don’t often recommend this,” he insisted before urging, “however I think it’s possible you could find it beneficial. Given that book you’re keeping on it, and if you feel up to it, then sharing your experience could possibly make you feel as though your progressing and give you some form of closure in knowing something is being done about it - and it would be a progression.” he stressed, “But you should only do it if you feel ready, okay? And I wouldn’t recommend going alone nor would I recommend going immediately, but it might be worth a thought.” I bit my lip, staring at the floor for a moment as I contemplated his words, giving a small nod as I did.

“I’ll certainly consider it.” came out of my mouth, eventually, before giving a bright smile, “I’ll let you know next time how it goes, if I’m up to it.” the doc gave an almost proud smile before gently patting me on the shoulder and wishing me goodbye.

After the pleasantries were over, and I had left a fair distance away from the ward, my pace slowed significantly, until I had eventually paused. Remembering where I was, I quickly went to the side and leaned against the wall to stay out of the way of busy members of the public and staff.

As I watched people going about their lives, I continued to contemplate the doctor’s words, seriously.

‘He’s not wrong.’ I conceded, ‘It certainly would be a notable step in the right direction. But isn’t it time sensitive?’ I worried, ‘I’d need to be prepared to give in the statement soon, regardless of his warning, if it's to be of any help. I don’t want to be the reason they couldn’t make a conclusion on the hijacking, especially if it involved an FBI agent, for whatever reason…’ I shook my head, a strong look on my face as I rose up and began my strides towards the bus, ‘I don’t have to give a report now - or even ever - if I’m not ready! After all, I can’t help the case if I’m mute or passed out from anxiety.’ I reassured myself, ‘But even going to the station just to get used to it is a step in the right direction, right?’

And with that I had direction.

Of course, as soon as I got outside I started to look up the bus I needed to get, along with the route - and, of course, I informed Mono I was gonna be back late. As I did, I pouted when I noticed the little droplets falling onto my phone, and immediately began to jog towards the protection of the bus shelter, when I noticed I was closeby.

As I figured out the route, the bus I needed to take pulled up and I jumped, only noticing it when the doors swung open. Taking a deep breath to calm my shocked heart, I gave a bright smile and entered the bus before showing my bus pass and then taking my usual seat.

My eyes kept darting between google maps and the windows as I kept my beady eyes out for anything that could look remotely like a police station. So when my phone said I needed to get off the bus, I frowned as I took in the buildings around me, none of which sticking out from one another much.

Of course, I still exited the bus and made my way across the street as I diligently followed google maps, this time with my trusty umbrella as the rain began to fall harder. However, when I reached the location, I paused before the bright, modern exterior with a surprised look, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape.

‘I suppose I shouldn’t be too shocked.’ I recalled, ‘The only police station I had ever seen before was the one in Milton Keynes, and that building was old as hell, much like that entire section of MK…’

I was about to make my way into the building, however, when I bumped into someone as I spaced out. Out of instinct I immediately apologised profusely, however the middle aged man brushed it away as he, too, began to apologise. I shook my head.

“It was my fault.” I finalised before noting he was armed and, therefore, a policeman himself, “I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, officer.” the man raised a brow at the term before giving a warm chuckle whilst shaking his head, displaying his disagreement, though his lack of words showed that he was agreeing to disagree. After a moment, when we turned away from one another and I was about to enter the building again, I heard him sigh and mumble.

“Damn it’s raining…” I paused before the door before taking a look at my umbrella that I was part way through closing. Looking at the man again, and then back to my umbrella, I shrugged.

‘He needs it more than I do.’ I figured, ‘I have a decent hood and need to buy another umbrella, anyway.’

I cleared my throat, attempting to get his attention, before holding out my umbrella. The man looked back at me, shocked, before looking down at the umbrella before looking back at me with a frown. Before he could say anything, I cut in.

“Here. You can have my umbrella.” I chimed, handing it to the man, who continued to be surprised. When he tried to protest I chuckled, adding, “I’ll be here for a while, so you might as well take it and get some use out of it. I have a hood and the bus stop is only over there.” I motioned with the extended umbrella, which he followed with a heavy frown. Though he said nothing, he also didn’t take the umbrella. After a moment or two I walked closer and put it in his hand for him before stepping back and giving a smile when he tried to give it back. After a few moments, I noticed his tired eyes relax into a soft smile as he accepted my gift.

“Thank you.” he noted aloud, “That’s very kind.” I blinked, somewhat surprised by his warm appreciation. It was enough to make me forget where I was and, for a moment, I felt a nice feeling that wasn’t overshadowed by anxiety or fear as soon as it came.

Quickly I nodded back before waving goodbye and facing back towards the police station once he began to make his way towards his own destination.

Suddenly the pressure of what entering this police station meant to me and my recovery began to crush me, that nice feeling gone within a snap.

‘Well… Third time’s the charm, I guess?’ I begged, biting my lips.

As I tentatively stepped into the building, I realised how unreal it all felt, a feeling that didn’t decline despite the amount of people who were both visibly armed and in uniform confirming that this was, in fact, the police station, had I had any doubt after interacting with the nice man outside. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I began to space out and panic.

‘It’s okay! I’m not doing it right now, yeah?!’ I breathed, feeling tears starting to attempt an escape, ‘Just breathe, yeah? Remember to use diaphragmatic breathing and counting…’ I gulped, fanning myself and removing my scarf violently as I began to visibly panic.

Looking around, quickly, I noticed a large seating area that was unoccupied and made my way towards there whilst chanting in my head to breathe and try to relax. Once I had sat, I dumped my scarf and bag on the chair and leant back against the wall and closed my eyes as I took deep, controlled breaths and began to count in my head.

‘One…’ I breathed out.

‘Two…’ I breathed in.

‘Three…’ I breathed out. From there I found my mind go blank and as I let out a breath I-

“Hey!” I squealed, jumping in my seat as my eyes shot open, almost headbutting the man who had startled me with both his touch and sudden loudness. Immediately he held his hands out and apologised profusely as I calmed my breathing, though this time for a different reason, with my hand to my chest.

“I didn’t mean to scare you!” he swore, “Are you okay?” I let out an airy breath and nodded slowly.

“Y-yes!” I sighed, slowly falling back into my regular state, even enough to give a small smile, “I was just getting my bearings, you know?” the man looked visibly confused, which made me frown, “What is it?” I begged quietly. The man blinked before rubbing the back of his head, sheepishly.

“I didn’t mean to come across as judging.” I frowned, still unsure what he was talking about, though as he continued to bable, I quickly got my answer, “It’s just, the guard said you had been sitting in the same position for two hours straight and-” my eyes snapped wide open in shock at that, so much so I zoned out, again, though this time from his words.

‘Fuck. Even the aripiprazole isn’t stopping my catatonic dissociation…’ I panicked, ‘Could it need upped…?’

“...you okay?” I blinked, his question just about registering in my panicked brain as I snapped my eyes back to his figure, actually taking him, along with my surroundings, in.

‘I’m still in the police station.’ I figured, ‘Well, as far as things go, there are definitely worse places for this to have happened…’

“Y-yeah!” I stuttered, shaking my head as I attempted to regain control of myself and my surroundings, “I’m fine!” I stated, rising quickly, “I, just, um…” I chuckled, “I guess I just zoned out for a bit there, huh?” I begged with a sheepish smile as I rubbed the back of my neck. Realising I hadn’t actually apologised, I began to stammer, “Sorry about that and worrying you, uh…”

“Matsuda!” he gave a bold grin before his face fell as he, too, began to stammer, “And it’s not a problem, miss-!”

“Ai.” I interjected with a bright smile, “Nice to meet you, Matsuda-san.” I gave a small bow before adding, “Thanks for checking in on me as I really need to get home.” I gave a sheepish grin, earning a blush and a laugh from the man, who nodded profusely before, waving out to the doors and allowing me past him.

“Yes, right!” he babbled, “I guess I’ll see you whenever.” he finished with a closed-eyed smile, which I naturally returned, nodding.

“Quite!” I chimed, “Bye, Matsuda-san.”

“Yes!” he took a breath, before adding, lowly, “Goodbye, Ai-san.”

And with that I whisked myself away from the station and ran for the bus I very much almost missed and got hit by. As soon as I sat down I gave a heavy exhale as I checked over my phone, seeing missed calls and many texts from Mono, asking where I was and why I hadn’t contacted him.

‘Fuck.’ I cursed, ‘We were supposed to study half an hour ago.’ I groaned, only to curse more as I noticed the time, ‘Let’s hope when I get back he won’t lynch me…!’

It’s somewhat unfortunate that the police station was out of the way instead of on the way from the university back to my flat, but I shrugged it off as half an hour to get over what just happened and to prepare a good alibi for Mono. However, despite that being what I needed to do, I couldn’t stop thinking about the incident at the police station.

‘I was there for two hours without noticing.’ I grumbled, ‘It’s been a while since I had it that bad. I really must be stressed…’ It was then I paused and began to think about what I was going to do.

‘I wasn’t going there to actually give in a statement - yet, anyway.’ I frowned, ‘And the doc said it might help.’ I shook my head, realising, ‘But ignoring that, surely all I’m doing is directly documenting myself as being present on that bus.

‘That might not be a bad thing. But there’s something weird that happened on that bus that I cannot put my finger on.’ I confessed, biting the skin on my thumb violently as I blindly gazed out the window, ‘And I know Kira can get names and appearance of his victims, at least - things that aren’t always available on the internet without some form of corruption, whether that be from a leak or hacking or something.

‘For all I know, Kira could be a corrupt cop!’ I bit my lip, causing it to bleed as I heard my stop being called out. After taking a deep breath, I grabbed my stuff and rushed out of the bus, thanking the driver, before preparing my keys.

‘I shouldn’t give away anything about myself. Kira probably doesn’t even know I exist, but I can’t risk anything should I ever gain anything of value about him.'

As I began to open my door, I noted the lights were on, and sighed with relief when my gaze met a concerned Mono’s. I immediately gave an apologetic smile.

“Sorry I got held up at university so I ended up visiting the police station much later and it was out of the way.”

‘There is a chance the police didn’t make a note of my name or other contact details on that bus, given they didn’t come to get a report from me. And if that’s the case, I’d rather keep it that way, just in case.’

“You worried me.” he was all he said as he immediately swamped me in a hug, which I returned whilst kicking the door closed. Him being much taller, my head rested on his chest, my glasses fogging and moving out of place slightly as I gave into his tight hold. Still, I didn’t relax as I found myself still frowning in thought.

‘But it wouldn’t hurt to make sure it isn’t there, again, just in case…’ as we parted I quickly gave a small smile before asking if he was still up for some work, which he grinned at.

“Sure thing!” he chimed. I nodded, my facadé dropping when he turned around, slowly following after him as I continued to think.

‘But how? I’m not sure.’ I chewed my cheek, but gave a small, triumphed smile as I got my books ready and took a seat in the living room as Mono prepared his things, ‘But as long as there’s no picture of me in that report, which there wouldn’t be, Kira wouldn’t be able to connect my real name to me.

‘Should anything happen, I just have to keep up this alias… and hide any visible evidence that I was on that bus.’ I nodded to myself.

“So Korean or Chinese?” I blinked, giving a small smile as I made my choice.

“How about Swedish, instead?” Mono shrugged and nodded.

“Sure, why not?” We shared a cheery smile.

‘Kira, after all, could be anyone, so I need to, just in case…’

15 notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 5 months

Text

Perpetual L's and Overwhelming Dubs

prompt: slutty stranger bathroom sex on a train.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 3.7k+

note: are all our safe words pineapple? i need this man to rail me, you know, for science. yep, that's right, Cherry has a new fixation! aren't y'all so lucky?

warnings: author has brain rot, smut (public, strangers, unprotected), obviously cursing, PWP.

Japan was bright, you decided with a soft smile on your lips; looking around the train station glowing in neon lights; some blinking, some colored, all fluorescent. People milled around every inch of the place, all walks of life from school children to professionals with briefcases, talking on the phone, running to make their departure. Couples held hands, families took meals together, and a few meters away, a little girl screamed when her brother stole her Momonga plushie.

You must've been enraptured with all around you that your shoulder bullied into someone else's on the platform, making you gasp an instant apology in Japanese. However, the man you had collided with just offered you a stoic look up and down, letting his lips pull in a half-smirk, checking in English with a thick accent, "My apologies, love. You all right there?"

"Yeah, I-I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you bid with a small smile.

"'S all right, pretty ladies like you can run into me all day," he smirked, eyeing you up and down before following after his snazzy-dressed companion - who slapped his chest forcefully.

"Leave the girl alone, mate," the man reprimanded. "Sorry, miss, he gets it in his head he's God's gift to ladies."

"It's really okay, it was my fault for not watching where I was going," you assured the men, glancing at your watch. "I'm so sorry, but I really can't miss this train. Safe travels, gents!" You bid, offering a simple wave, then scurried off - trying not to double back for the man with a mustache.

God, was that man handsome! Like, illegally handsome. Hauntingly handsome.

You'd even go as far as to say he was devilishly handsome! Those eyes? Beautifully clear blue, alluring, drew you in and held you captive. His cologne? Absolutely heavenly, borderline intoxicating. And he was built like a fucking mountain - tall, broad, slender hips, bulging muscles that looked as if they would rip his button-up.

Shaking your head, you rid yourself of the body-heating thoughts about the stranger you had just barreled into. Being horny got you nowhere, but being perpetually horny... Was the biggest fucking L. Sure, you could rub one out; you knew where the clit was and how to stimulate to your own pleasure (unlike most men). But it was something about a man sweating over you, thrusting into you with abandon; creating a mess in your guts, mind, and chest.

Yeah... You needed to get laid, you were fucking drooling over some stranger you had a 23-second interaction with.

However, upon entering your train and locating a seat in the hopefully peaceful quiet car, you mindlessly downloaded Tinder to pursue at your leisure, but only a few swipes in and you were exiting the app and deleting it (again) from your phone. The train was ready to depart the station, you cracking a bottle of water, looking back on your two-week Japanese excursion your job had sent you on.

And now, you were finally heading to your last stretch of meetings, requiring you to purchase an overnight ticket on one of the available bullet trains. Seemed the fastest, simplest, and most affordable way to travel - skipping out on upgrading to first class. Economy was just fine, you decided, perhaps doubting yourself when your eyes widened when you caught sight of the two strangers you ran into on the platform finding their seats a few rows up. There was a third man with them now that was left slumped in a spare chair - probably drunk off his arse, based on the man's grungy, disheveled look.

You tried not to thinking about the handsome stranger, but he was just a few rows up from you! God, you could practically smell his cologne from here, letting your mouth water slightly.

Yeah, perpetually horny was the biggest L - like you said.

Your thighs squeezed together as you crossed them, hoping the pressure was enough to relieve the build-up of warmth in your belly and cunt. Your headphones were placed, your attention diverting out the window, and tried to imagine if nobody else was in this fucking carriage - he could take you here and now.

After a few stops, your empty water bottle sought revenge against your bladder and ushered you to the closest bathroom. It wasn't as tight a squeeze as airplane bathrooms, but it was still a small facility to use. When done, you washed your hands as a knock sounded at the door, calling in Japanese, "Just a second!"

After unlocking the door and opening it, you actually flinched back slightly when the man from early with the '70s pornstache was stood directly in front of you.

"Well, don't you look like hell," you mused slightly.

"All in a day's work, love," he answered, stepping out of your way to let you exit the bathroom. He looked you up and down, asking, "So, uh, where you headed?"

You told him your stop, asking him the same. He told you, your mind doing mental gymnastics to understand that you both had a good bit left on this train... Surely, anything could happen.

"I'll let you, yeah," you half-smiled awkwardly, moving out of his way fully to give him access to the restroom.

"You know..." He trailed, pointing at the empty lavatory, "Could fit two."

You chuckled, "Yes, but I'm finished now - you go on."

He hummed, glancing up and down the train car - spying through the windows of the conjoining connection each car had. When he faced you again, he took a slow, calculating step forward, "That's not exactly what I meant, sweetheart."

You feet took a slow, calculated step back to find the wall, his smirk broadening. "Then how about using your words like a big boy and tell me what you meant?"

"You look like a smart girl, sure you can figure it out, yeah?" He leered over you, either foot standing between yours, nearly pressed into you but far back enough that he could maintain eye contact.

You pouted at him, "I don't read minds."

"Not sure it's me mind yah gotta read," he perked a single brow, glancing out the window again. "Now, I'd love t'stand here and ravish you the way I've wanted since you bumped into me earlier, but maybe exhibition isn't your thing."

"Judging me now?"

Now, both his brows slowly rose. His teeth poked out from between his smirking lips, praising, "Naughty girl."

"Maybe you're the one a bit nervous, hmm?" You quipped, boldly reaching forward to palm his cock - already half-hard. "What's wrong, mister? Don't want people seeing you so, hm, submissive?" You gave a cheeky flex of your hand, his hips bucking involuntarily.

"You fuckin' minx," he chuckled, hands to your waist now. "Get in that fuckin' bathroom or I might just have to give this whole fuckin' train a show."

"Better start charging them all," you whispered, hearing his growl before pushing his chest back to give you a little space. "You do this often, then? Proposition strangers into dirty bathroom sex on public, moving trains? Hmm? In a foreign country? Seems terribly disrespectful, don't it?"

"Sweetheart, the thoughts in my head about what I want to do to this body - those are disrespectful," he smirked. "Wanna tell me I'm not truly tempting you? You would've left by now," he pointed out, making your chest feel warm from the embarrassment you felt suddenly. You smirked and twiddled your fingers at him in parting, turned, and just before you could step away, you felt his arms lock around your waist. "C'mon, darlin', don't be like that," he hissed in your ear, your visible smirk spurring him on. "Not about t'beg yah, princess, get this pretty li'l arse in this stall."

You folded.

Being perpetually horny was an L, sure, but being propositioned by a handsome, hulking, muscly stranger was for sure a Dub, right?

You turned in his arms, lips only centimeters apart; breathing the same air, hand on his chest to ease him back into the bathroom stall. He grinned in triumph, and the moment you were over the threshold, still maintaining eye contact, he reached around you to click the lock in place.

"C'mere," he growled, surging forward to bring his lips down to yours finally - and just like that, your panties were done for. You moaned instantly, feeling something akin to relief when his lips molded against yours; all but immediately sweeping his tongue against the seam of your mouth.

Letting him in was mind boggling; literally making static fill your brain as your hand lifted to hold the back of his neck, threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. His mustache was stiff, wriggling in an irritating fashion against your upper lip and nose, but you didn't notice - too engulfed in the way he domineered every rational thought. His hands both pressed tightly to your ribs, then waist, down your hips, around to your arse - like he couldn't make up his mind where he wanted to touch you. So, he chose to touch you everywhere.

He was intoxicating; feeling drunk on his taste, smell, touch. He was warm, his curls a bit greasy but still shocking soft, and his lips - plush, welcoming, anchoring. You didn't even know his name, but you didn't need to! All you needed was exactly what he was doing: holding complete control over your heart, mind, and cunt.

Your stranger pulled back suddenly, offering a skeptical look, "There's no boyfriend, fiancé, husband I'm gonna have to look over my shoulder for, right?"

"Not since about 6 months ago, no. Do I need to ask you the same?"

"'Course not," he mused with a grin, kissing you again - but just a degree softer. Now, both his hands rose to caress either cheek; his tongue wagging against yours in more controlled caresses. One hand dropped slowly to hold your neck, pulse quickening, and your stranger smirked, muttering against your lips, "Cheeky girl."

You pushed him back half a step, offering him a once over before confidently reaching down for the end of your shirt and pulling it off over your head. Your companions mouth fell open when you revealed yourself to him, smirking as you opened your jeans to show a hint of the lace panties you wore. You told him your name, earning a confused hum. "My name," you explained, "figured you need to know what to moan." His tongue swept over his lips. "Gonna just stand there?"

He chuckled, checking his watch, then started unbuttoning his waistcoat. "Tangerine," he spoke simply.

"That your safe word?" You asked, shucking your jean clean off after toeing out of your shoes. "Hm, mine's pineapple."

"'S my name, love," he chuckled, opening his button up to reveal exactly what you thought - plains of smooth skin over rigid, bulging muscles. "So you know what to scream," he smirked.

You paused, stood in your panties, bra, and socks, asking through a small chuckle, "You're telling me, your mother carried you all those months in her belly, pushed you screaming - bloodied - into the world, looked at yah, and said, 'yeah, he looks like his name should be Tangerine'?"

He peeled his top half naked, your throat swelling close; swallowing harshly to clear your mouth of the overflow of salvia. Slowly, he moved closer to you, once again leering over you. He reached out for your neck, not too tight or aggressive, but forceful enough to tilt your head back. "'S a codename, love," he explained.

"Ah, so can't reveal the government."

"Exactly."

"The fuck kinda job you got that requires codenames?"

"The dangerous kind," he smirked, "wanna keep running your mouth or put it to other use?"

You chuckled and reached for his trousers, holding his eyes with yours as you easily unfastened him and hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and suit pants. His mouth parted slightly when the cooler air hit his exposed cock, asking, "Safe word?"

He snickered, "Pineapple's fine, love," he sounded far too amused, watching you get on your knees in front of him, "but I doubt we'll need - Oh, holy, fuckin' good God," he seethed through clenched teeth when you eagerly took him in your mouth.

He was bigger than what you were used to - like a full double the size your previous partners had been. He was longer, thicker, and Goddamn, was he sweltering in your mouth. You wondered how long it had been for him, feeling your panties dampen as you felt exhilarated to show this man with a "dangerous job" exactly what your mouth could do - and why he'd never forget your name.

"Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned, collecting whatever hair he could in a makeshift ponytail; looking down his nose to watch you. His cock was overwhelming, but you were determined to earn the pleasure he would surely bring; mouthing around his cockhead, using one hand to pump what didn't fit, the other alternating between holding his hairy thigh for balance and cradling his balls.

A few times, you held his eyes with yours as you removed his cock with a pop; licking his shaft up and down like it was a popsicle on the Fourth of July. His jaw would clench each time, sputtering his breath. His veins were pulsing, prominent under the skin; making your cunt contract as his throat bobbed as he swallowed harshly, groaning.

"Li'l too good at this, baby, Goddamn," he breathed, chuckling to himself as he retracted his hips while holding your jaw. "All right, all right," he chuckled, "made your point, love. Get up here 'fore I lose my bloody mind."

You pouted, "I quiet like it down here."

"Darlin', I'm about to bust - "

"Isn't that the point?"

He chuckled and reached down to help you up, instantly searing you in a wet, messy kiss as he backed you into the sink counter; tasting himself on your tongue. It was erotic, something you were vastly not used to - no man ever being okay with you kissing them after having their dicks in your mouth.

But no, this Tangerine fellow was obviously built different.

One hand anchored your waist, the other dropping to toy with your panties gently; petting the waistband before sinking his hand lower. You shuddered lightly when his finger swept through your wet folds, both groaning in pleasure when he sunk knuckle-deep. "Feels so good, love," he praised, your legs widening your stance to let him better access; hand fully disappeared into your panties. "So fuckin' warm, yeah," he breathed, increasing his speed so he pumped aggressively. He didn't need a second finger, he was chasing your orgasm - purely focused on the way you withered before him.

"Tan," you whimpered, gripping his assaulting arm as he found your g-spot and chuckled darkly.

"Got it, there, did I? Yeah, let's see what you've got, love, c'mon."

You whined in your throat, leaning into his chest as your legs began to quake. You didn't get a chance to warn him, feeling that overwhelming urge to urinate - gasping loudly and needing him to support your body as his finger jabbed your g-spot to the point you were gushing into his hand.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he encouraged, stimulating you further; loving the feeling of your squirt in his cupped hand, "keep goin', good girl, that's it, yeah? I got yah, good girl, there you go."

You grunted when he slowed his hand to the point the heel of his palm ground into your clit. Feeling overstimulated, your hand slapped to his meaty forearm, meeting his eyes with a glare, begging, "Okay, okay, okay, you made your fuckin' point."

He grinned, "Didn't know I had that affect on you, love. Huh?"

"You could've offered to fuck me when I ran into you earlier and I would've bent over - right there and then," you whispered against his lips, licking into his mouth right after; making his own mind go blank.

"Feelin's mutual, doll," he nodded, using both hands to shred your lace panties from your hips with a shrill gasp. "Keepsake," he teased, showing you the ruined fabric before dropping it.

You offered him a coy look before turning around for him, not needing the instruction; meeting his stare in the mirror. Bracing yourself against the sink, you slumped over it, making him groan.

"Fuck, doll," he whispered, admiring the view and smoothing a hand over one bare cheek. "Just look at yah, ready fa' me, just drippin'," he bit his lip, giving a few pumps to his length as he looked you over; other hand toying with your weeping hole. He growled and slid his cockhead up and down your slit, both shuddering lightly; moaning in union when he notched himself at your entrance. His eyes met yours in the mirror, his mouth parted, slowly sinking forward to the fucking hilt - making you feel impossibly full.

"Oh, Jesus fuck!"

He chuckled, shifting his hips, "Keep it down, love, don't need anyone bangin' on the door, interrupting us, huh?"

"I'll be quiet when you get a smaller dick."

This made Tangerine genuinely snicker, "Fair enough."

"Fuck's sake!" You yelped when he suddenly pulled back, surged in, and started his own rhythm. Through the mirror, you saw the concentrated, cocky expression he wore; looking purely focused, mesmerized by the way his cock would disappear within you, only to reappeared - soaking wet, glistening.

"Feel's divine," he hissed, the grip on your hips sure to leave bruises. "God, this pussy's made fa me - grippin' s'fuckin' tight. Who was the idiot who let this go, huh?"

"Really wanna talk about my ex now?" You panted.

"Nah, don't need to - 's mine now," he grit, one hand letting go of your hips to bring down on the meat of your bottom. "Hear me? Huh? Fuckin' mine now," he pommeled your arse a couple more times. "Like that, huh? Don't you? Feel you fuckin' squeezin' me each time."

"Yes," you moaned. "Fuck, yes, yes, God, you feel fucking amazing."

"Keep talkin'," another slap that made you squeak.

You were nervous 'cause you never considered yourself the best at dirty talk, but still tried, "So fuckin' good, makin' me so wet. Fuck - never had cock like this, so good - so deep, so big. Don't stop," you whimpered, his feet repositioning to allow himself a new angle and speed to drill into you. "Fuck, yes," you moaned loudly, encouraging, "harder, please, yes, yes, yes! Just like that!"

The motions cause ripples across the flesh of your bottom, thighs quaking. You pushed your hand down your front, your partner groaning at the sight as you found your clit and started massaging; the contractions squeezing Tangerine's cock tightly. His one hand traveled around the front of you, sliding up to yank your bra from your breasts; palming one with fever before tweaking your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

"Fuuuuck, Tan," you whined, moaning. "Don't stop, please, 's too fuckin' good!"

"I've got yah, darlin', almost there," he grunted, folded a little more over your back so he could fondle you roughly. "Naughty fuckin' girl, lettin' me bend yah over like this - don't even know me. Just knew you needed my cock, huh, love? Ain't that right?"

"Yes," you moaned, orgasm fast approaching.

"Probably let me do whatever I wanted t'you, huh?"

"Fuck yes, whatever you wanted, however you wanted me!"

"At's a good girl," he grit. "Takin' me so well, so fucking good. Need this pussy again, hear me? Fuck," he panted, increasing his speed to an erratic pace, "need a taste, need yah t'squirt on me again. Need this pussy in all positions." He bared his teeth, increasing his speed, hissing, "Lemme hear you scream, love. Wanna hear my name. from that pretty fuckin' mouth, c'mon."

"T-Tan, fuck, Tangerine, I-I'm right there, I'm so close - OH FUCK!" Your orgasm made you reel back into his chest, milking yourself on his impaling cock. You gasped, mouth left wide as his hand constricted around your throat, his mouth hot against your ear; biting and licking as he grunted forcefully.

He gasped in your ear, moaning your name on a short repeat, shuddering as he stilled himself; coating your wet interior with his thick ropes of hot, heavy cum. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back to his shoulder; his lips actually soft as he planted several kisses along your neck (that he released) and shoulder. "Holy fuck, doll," he whispered, chuckling in disbelief. "'S a li'l too good."

You smirked, "Yeah, I've heard that before, you're not the first t'tell me."

"Ah, way t'ruin it, doll," he joked, making you chuckle breathlessly. "All right?"

"Mhm," you sighed, eyes opening. "You?"

"Never better," he mused softly, sighing as you both tried to regain your breath. He let out a single grunt as he held your hips, pulling his cock free; releasing a gush of cum from you both to drip from your cunt. As you both redressed, he eyed you for a moment, then mentioned, "Listen, love, uh... Don't miss your stop."

"I wasn't planning on it?"

"Good... Just..." He sighed, closing up his shirt. "Make sure you get off this train."

You stared at him for a moment, pondering, "This have something t'do with that 'dangerous job' of yours?"

"A bit."

You hummed, zipping your jeans back up sans panties. "Why don't you get off, too?" You asked softly.

"Can't, darlin', got a job t'finish."

You nodded, "Then be careful, yeah?"

He nodded in return, reaching out to pull you in close. He took a second to look you over, smirking slightly, "Worried about me, are yah?"

"I don't even know you."

"We'll change that," he eased. "Your phone?" You offered a small look before sighing, reaching for your phone, unlocking it, and offering it to him. He typed for a moment, a distant buzz heard from his own phone, then handed it back to you. "I'll call you up sometime, love," he smirked, watching you reach back to unlock the door.

"You better," you mused, letting him press one more searing kiss to your lips. You hummed, pouting slightly and telling him, "Behave, or we'll go at round two."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, darlin'," he pocketed your shredded panties with a cheeky grin.

"You still owe me for those," you pointed.

"Send a bill, I'll make it up t'yah."

You smirked, "No bill, but I'd take dinner."

To your honest shock, a sort of... Contemplating, soft expression took over his face, nodding, promising quietly, "I'll call yah, darlin'. Just make sure you answer."

[ part two: Shower Shenanigans ]

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