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connieluvsr · 5 months

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ONE OF THE GIRLS | part 3

pairing: (electric) guitarist!jungkook x singer!reader(f)

genre: band au, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

summary: when your main guitarist gets sick and can't perform at your show, you get help from someone unexpected.

warnings: swearing and some making out, hot jk:)), drinking, mention of drugs, smoking, slight smut, angst, reader is complicated.

word count: 6.9k

a/n: FINALLY after 2 months of not posting. i swear i want too many things to happen in this series but still didn’t know what to write. im so sorry for you waiting that long, please enjoy this chapter!

__________

"Woo! Amazing!" Avery's claps echoed through the room as she leaped onto the plush leather couch, sending vibrations that jolted Zac into a celebratory dance.

The much-anticipated day of the show was drawing near, and we had been tirelessly rehearsing. Despite everyone's praises, I felt there was always room for improvement.

"I'm utterly drained. Let's call it a day," I declared, collapsing onto the couch next to Avery and Zac.

"Are you sure? You practically begged me for extra rehearsal hours," Jungkook teased, concern etched on his face.

"My throat feels like it's on fire, and my head is pounding," I confessed, my voice hoarse and tired.

Avery gently rubbed my back, suggesting, "Take some Strepsils; you'll be fine."

Zac stood up, nodding in agreement. "Should we head out?"

"Yeah, let's go," Avery chimed in, following Zac toward the door. "Bye, guys!"

As they left, we waved our goodbyes, and I closed my eyes, sinking back into the couch. Suddenly, I felt Jungkook's presence beside me.

"Are you okay?" he inquired, his voice laced with concern.

"Yeah, why?" I replied, meeting his gaze with weary eyes that threatened to shut at any moment.

He sighed, clearly sensing something was amiss. "I feel like you're not telling me something."

"Do I have to spill every detail of my life to you?" I snapped, my exhaustion making me unusually irritable.

He looked taken aback, his confusion evident. "No, I didn't mean—" Before he could finish his sentence, he stops. He looks at me with such sad eyes. "Get some sleep. Talk to me when your eyes aren't threatening to close on their own," he retorted, his words sharper than intended. He hesitated for a moment, as if wanting to say something more, but eventually, he stood up and silently closed the door behind him. I let out a heavy sigh and covered my eyes with my palms, hoping to find a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

He knew you’re not being yourself, you kept the distance a lot more these days since what happend with Ander, everyone noticed, including Avery, who wanted to hang out but you politely declined everytime with another made-up excuse. You don’t want to sing — you mean you can’t sing with someone else, It’s not … what you’re used with. You hate new, you want the ordinary, the basic you’ve been doing.

Jungkook’s an amazing singer, you know it and he knows it too, but everytime you step into the practice room, a knot tightened in my stomach, you know how much he wants to help you and you know how much you need him, so you let him, but deep down you think about Ander and how quick he left and you’ve got someone else.

His voice resonated with passion and talent, filling the room with melodies that should have comforted me. Instead, they only intensified my insecurity. I compared every note he sang to the echoes of Ander’s notes, the memory of our duets haunting me like a ghost.

Did Ander try to contact you? Well His messages were filled with empty apologies, excuses that felt like salt on my wounds. I blocked him on all platforms, so he sent pointless emails.

The clock says 04:55, I found myself tossing and turning in bed, unable to shake off the tension from earlier. Unable to bear the suffocating feeling inside, I quietly slipped out of my room, barely seeing anything, I put on one of my hoodies and leave the house in the hushed darkness of the night.

The cool night air brushed against my skin as I walked aimlessly, trying to clear my mind. The city was silent, so, so, silent.

It was cold outside, I was in some Hello Kitty PJ’s and a hoodie that barely makes me warm, but I keep walking until I don’t feel the cold anymore.

The sun will rise in about half an hour now.

You wanna wait for it, making sure you’ll see it clearly, you go to the park that’s some miles away.

Suddenly, a cute dog start following you, you crouch down to him to pet him and he start licking you, gross but cute. “Come!” You smile and lead him to a small bench.

“Brianna?”

You turn your head, pulling the hood of the hoodie off to see better and you can’t belive who’s here. At this fucking hour.

He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone a mixture of concern and annoyance. He approaches me. “I knew I heard your voice. I thought- I thought I was crazy for a sec.” He looks up and down on me like he’s seen a ghost I wonder if I look okay, I didn’t bother to look in the mirror.

"I needed some fresh air," I replied, my voice cold, mirroring the chill in the night, trying not to make eye contact with him.

"Well, you should have stayed at home," he snapped back, his frustration apparent. "You can't just walk around in the middle of the night alone."

"I can do whatever I want," I shot back, my temper flaring, looking up at him. “I don't need you to tell me what to do." My attention goes back to the dog as he bites my finger in a playful way. Jungkook just stares at it looking down on me.

“Brianna, I want to understand-“

In the midst of our vulnerable embrace, a sudden surge of frustration and anger overwhelmed me. You get up, he takes 2 steps back. “You think you can just swoop in and fix everything?" I snapped, pushing Jungkook away. "You don't know what I've been through. You don't understand."

Jungkook's eyes narrowed, his own temper flaring. "Maybe I don't, but that doesn't mean I don't care. I hate seeing you like this, shutting everyone out, including me." He points to himself and talks in an exhausted way.

I scoffed bitterly, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "And what? You think you can change that? You think your concern will magically solve all my problems?"

He clenched his fists, his jaw set in determination. "No, I don't think it will magically solve everything. But at least you won't have to face it alone. We're friends, aren't we? Friends support each other."

"Friends?" I scoffed again, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. "Friends wouldn't fight all the time. Friends wouldn't constantly push each other's buttons."

Jungkook's expression softened, hurt flickering in his eyes. "Maybe we're more than just friends," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "Maybe I care about you more than I'm willing to admit."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken emotions. I felt a pang of guilt, realizing that my anger had overshadowed his genuine concern. "I don't know what I want," I confessed, my voice breaking. "I'm scared of messing things up, of losing the people I care about. Again.”

Jungkook stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup my cheek. "You don't have to have all the answers right now," he said softly. "Just know that I'm here for you, no matter what. We can figure it out together."

In that moment, the fight within me crumbled, replaced by a flood of emotions. I let out a shaky breath, feeling the weight of my fears lifting, if only a little. Jungkook pulled me into a comforting hug, and for the first time that night, I felt a glimmer of hope.

We stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the night around us slowly coming to life. In that moment, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I didn't have to face everything alone. Perhaps, with Jungkook by my side, I could find the strength to confront my fears and conquer the challenges ahead.

As we stood there, embracing each other under the moonlit sky, I felt a sense of warmth and security wash over me. It was as if Jungkook's presence had cast away the shadows that had clouded my thoughts. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Jungkook pulled back slightly, his hands cupping my face again as he looked into my eyes with sincerity. "You'll never have to find out," he said, his voice soft but resolute. "We're in this together, remember?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I nodded, feeling a newfound sense of resolve. "Yeah, together," I echoed, realizing that I wasn't alone in my struggles anymore.

We continued our walk, no longer in silence but with a comfortable ease between us. We talked about our fears, dreams, and everything in between. With each word, the connection between us deepened, and I found solace in sharing my thoughts with someone who truly understood.

As the night turned into dawn, we returned home. The sun was beginning to rise, painting the sky with hues of pink and gold, signaling a new day and a fresh start.

He walked me home but before he could leave I stop him. “What were you doing alone at that hour? you didn’t tell me.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment before he starts “Thinking.”

“About?” You ask couriously.

“You.”

Before you could try to make him explain what the fuck was that he left.

“Rehearsal today at 4 ok?” he shots from the street.

You giggle and give him a thumbs up.

What the hell did just happen.

______

"You know, I think they make a great couple," Avery mused, her voice laced with a sense of certainty. She reached out, deftly taking the blunt from Zac's hand, her fingers brushing against his in a fleeting touch. Zac's gaze followed the movement, his expression a mix of annoyance and intrigue.

"Hm?" Zac responded, his curiosity piqued as he took in the mention of Jungkook and Bri.

Avery settled into his lap, the weight of her presence grounding him in the moment. She exhaled a puff of smoke, blowing it up. "Jungkook and Bri, don’t ya think?" Avery's words hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of mari*uana. Zac's eyes flicked towards Bri's image in his mind, then back to Avery. He hesitated, the smoke clouding his thoughts momentarily.

"Um, yeah, sure, but they don’t seem like they like each other or shit," Zac replied, his voice a low murmur as he tried to make sense of the situation. Avery's eyes met his, a playful glint dancing in them as she inched closer. Before she could take another puff, Zac leaned in, capturing her lips in a pressed kiss.

"I think they really like each other," Avery murmured against his lips, her words muffled yet sincere. Her fingers traced a thoughtful path along his jawline, her touch a gentle caress that seemed to ease the tension in his muscles. "I know Bri is afraid, I just know it, but JK? What would he be afraid of?" She furrowed her brows, deep in contemplation.

"Afraid of moving too fast and lose her?" Zac suggested, his voice barely audible, his thoughts unraveling like the tendrils of smoke surrounding them. He shrugged, the uncertainty evident in his gaze.

"God, you're really smart," Avery whispered, her lips brushing against his cheek in a tender peck. With a soft sigh, she slid off his lap, the absence of her warmth leaving a lingering sensation. Rising from the couch, she reached for her phone, her fingers gliding across the screen as she dialed a number.

____

Avery's eyes widened in disbelief, her excitement palpable as I recounted the bizarre events of the previous night, or was it technically today?

"I can't believe it! No way, you did what?" Avery exclaimed, her voice echoing with a mix of shock and exhilaration.

The weight of the situation pressed down on me, making my palms clammy as I buried my face in them. "I don't know, I feel so weird right now," I confessed, my words muffled against my hands. "I have a rehearsal with him in an hour."

Avery's eyes glinted with determination as she seized upon the moment, her excitement bubbling over. "You gotta ask him what was that!" she urged, her words rapid, punctuated by animated gestures. She jumped up and down on the sofa, the energy radiating from her contagious enthusiasm.

"I'm scared," I admitted, my voice barely audible as I grappled with the overwhelming vulnerability that threatened to consume me. "I'm scared to let someone into a place so important in my life again. Music means everything to me. I… I can't. I feel like I'm betraying someone."

Avery's eyes blazed with fiery determination, her frustration palpable as she unleashed her pent-up emotions. "Gosh, you're not betraying Ander! That fucker literally could've made you lose your show!"

I shook my head, my thoughts racing. "I'm… I'm not talking about him," I confessed, my voice quivering. "I just don't know what to do. I don't know if I can do this. I feel like I let him in too much. What if I lose him too? What if, on the day of the show, he'll say he won't come? What if—"

Before I could finish my sentence, Avery's hands shot out, shaking me and pinching me sharply. "Ouch!" I yelped, wincing from the sudden pain.

"You're like a crazy person talking right now," Avery retorted, her frustration palpable. She glared at me, her eyes fierce with determination. In a moment of impulse, I grabbed my phone and dialed Jungkook's number, my fingers trembling as I pressed the call button.

"Hi, it's me," I said, my voice catching in my throat. "Yeah, don't come today... No, don't. Bye."

Avery's jaw dropped, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What the hell was that, why?!" she screamed, her frustration boiling over. She pulled at her hair in exasperation, her voice tinged with desperation. "You're not thinking straight!! The show is in 3 days! Come on! Once this is over, you'll find someone else if you're so scared of falling for him."

"Falling? What do... You think I love him?" I stammered, my words trailing off as I tried to make sense of my own feelings.

"You definitely love each other," Avery stated matter-of-factly, her tone unwavering. "You're both two dumb fuckers. Call him to come to rehearsals, for god's sake, I'm out."

"W-wait, Avery!" I shouted, but she was already gone, her footsteps fading into the distance.

"Fuck, it even started raining!" she screamed from the porch, her words carried away by the wind as she drove away.

I sigh in frustration as I collapse onto the plush couch, my weary eyes scanning the ominous clouds looming outside the window. With a heavy heart, I receive a notification alert on my phone, urging me to stay indoors due to an impending danger and an imminent rainstorm. The familiar sense of dread washes over me, and I can't help but mutter a resigned exclamation under my breath, "God... not again."

I pull the notification bar down, revealing a series of alerts detailing the severity of the situation. Flash flood warnings, gusty winds, and potential power outages are mentioned, intensifying my sense of unease. With a deep breath, I rise from the couch, my footsteps heavy as I move towards the window to get a better view of the darkening sky.

The atmosphere outside grows ominous, the clouds swirling in a chaotic dance, painting the sky with shades of deep gray. The wind starts to howl, rattling the windows as if nature itself is echoing my inner turmoil. I glance around the room, contemplating my options. The dimming light emphasizes the urgency of the situation, urging me to make a decision.

Taking a moment to gather my thoughts, I quickly assess the supplies in my home – candles, emergency rations, and a flashlight. I grab them, creating a makeshift emergency kit, hoping it will be enough to tide me over if the storm takes a turn for the worse. As I secure the windows and doors, I can't shake off the feeling of vulnerability, a reminder of the unpredictable nature of life.

I return to the couch, clutching the emergency kit tightly, and stare out of the window once more. Raindrops splatter against the glass, blurring the world into a surreal painting of water and shadows.

I make myself some hot coco and before the power is out, which will probably be by the night, I turn on the TV to watch Brooklyn 99 and put a nice comfy blanket.

My heart pounds in my chest, the echoes of the thunderstorm still reverberating through the air as I try to calm my racing thoughts. The glow from the TV screen illuminates the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Just as I start to regain a semblance of composure, the knocks on the door pierce the silence like a gunshot. I jump, my breath catching in my throat, and I shoot a fearful glance towards the entrance, my mind racing with possibilities.

"Fuck..." I mutter under my breath, hesitating before the door. I entertain the fleeting hope that whoever it is might just go away, but my hopes are dashed when another round of four loud knocks reverberates through the house, each one intensifying my anxiety. The situation feels surreal, the storm outside mirroring the turmoil within me.

My hands tremble as I reach for the doorknob, my heart pounding in my ears. Then, amidst the chaos of the storm, a familiar shout cuts through the air, calling my name. "BRI. IT’S ME… OPEN." The sound of his voice sends a mixture of relief and concern washing over me. Without a second thought, I throw the door open, my eyes widening in surprise at the sight before me.

There stands Jungkook, drenched from head to toe, his clothes clinging to him like a second skin. I try to push away the distracting thoughts about his perfect abs and body, focusing on the immediate concern. "Get in the house; you're shivering," I say urgently, my hand reaching out to pull him inside. His shivering intensifies, and I can't help but worry about his well-being.

"Fuck—let me get—"

"Bri."

"Let me get towels and clothes and—"

"Bri." He stops me, his eyes locking onto mine with a depth of concern that sends a shiver down my spine.

"I—" I start to protest, but his worry silences me. I nod, my determination to help him overpowering any embarrassment. "Let me grab you something. Please. I don't want you to be sick." I manage to tear my gaze away from his intense eyes and hurriedly make my way towards the closet, pretending not to notice his actions as he starts to undress behind me, though my cheeks burn with an undeniable awareness.

As I fumble through my closet, my hands search for something that might fit Jungkook. Finally, I pull out an oversized T-shirt and a pair of sweats that used to be snug on me when I was a bit chubbier. I hold my breath, hoping against hope that they'll fit him. I mutter a silent prayer under my breath, my fingers crossed as I bring the clothes to him.

"Here," I say, my voice a little shaky, trying my best not to meet his gaze directly, feeling the weight of his presence in the room.

"Thanks," he replies, his voice carrying a mix of gratitude and amusement as he accepts the towel and the clothes. After he dries himself, he starts to dress, and a soft laugh escapes his lips. "They're a bit... tight."

"I—yeah, I don't have anything else—" I stammer, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. My eyes dart away, not wanting to acknowledge the situation, even though his laughter is contagious.

"Bri," he says, his tone serious now, his laughter fading away. "I can't believe you told me I shouldn't come... I wanted to speak to you in person.”

His words hang heavily in the air, and I feel my heart skip a beat. I struggle to find the right words, my emotions in turmoil. "Jungkook... look, it's—" I start, my voice cracking with a mix of vulnerability and affection, wanting desperately to express what I feel but not sure how to articulate it.

"It's complicated," I finally manage to say, my voice barely audible over the distant rumble of thunder. I glance up, meeting Jungkook's eyes, searching for understanding. "I've been through so much, and I'm afraid... afraid of getting hurt again."

Jungkook's expression softens, his eyes reflecting empathy and sincerity. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup my cheek, his touch warm and reassuring. "Bri, I understand. I know it won't be easy, but I'm willing to try if you are. We can face the challenges together."

His words hang in the air, a silent promise that sparks a glimmer of hope within me. I find myself leaning into his touch, craving the comfort he offers. The storm outside mirrors the turbulence within my heart, but in this moment, Jungkook's presence provides a sense of calm amidst the chaos. “I thought we talked about this this morning. You were so committed-“

"I... I don't know. But all i know is i don’t want to lose you." I admit, my voice barely above a whisper, my eyes locked onto his. The vulnerability in his gaze resonates with my own fears and insecurities, creating a connection that goes beyond words.

He leans closer, and closer, and closer,

before I know, his lips meet me in a moment of sweet surrender, Jungkook's touch is gentle yet firm as he cups my face, his fingers warm against my skin. I close my eyes, savoring the softness of his lips, the taste of him like a bittersweet melody. His kiss is tender, a silent promise of affection and understanding.

A rush of emotions floods over me—desire, vulnerability, and a profound sense of connection. The air crackles with electricity, the charged atmosphere intensifying the intimacy of the moment. My fingers find their way into his soft hair, tangling in the strands as I pull him closer, deepening the kiss.

Jungkook responds with a soft sigh, his lips parting slightly, inviting me in. Our tongues meet in a slow, sensual dance, exploring each other with a hunger that transcends words. The kiss deepens, becoming a passionate exchange of emotions and desires, a silent conversation that speaks volumes.

I can feel the steady beat of Jungkook's heart against my chest, matching the rhythm of my own pulse. The world outside may be in chaos, but in this moment, there is only us—two souls intertwined in a kiss that feels like coming home. Time seems to stretch, the kiss becoming an eternity, a stolen moment of bliss that leaves us both breathless and wanting more.

When we finally pull away, our breaths mingling in the air.

In the dimness that followed the abrupt power outage, Jungkook's voice cut through the sudden silence, his words trailing off in the darkness. "I'm sorry if-" he began, but the sentence hung in the air, abruptly interrupted by the blackout.

A frustrated groan escaped my lips as I fumbled in the dark, desperately searching for my phone. "Fuck," I muttered, realizing the futility of the attempt.

“Bri, where are you?" Jungkook called out, his voice tense in the darkness.

My hands reached out, seeking his in the pitch-black void. "I'm looking for my phone. It should be here somewhere," I explained, patting the couch in vain.

"Can you give me your phone?" I asked, hoping for a glimmer of light to guide us through the oppressive darkness.

"I forgot it at home," he admitted with a nonchalant shrug, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. "I rushed here! It's your fault!" he defended himself.

"How could you just leave without it?" I questioned, genuine disbelief coloring my tone. The realization that we were stranded without any source of light intensified the surreal nature of the situation. A deafening thunderclap reverberated through the house, adding an extra layer of tension to the already charged atmosphere. "Fuck, that was a big one," I remarked, my nerves on edge.

Finally, Jungkook's hands found mine, and he grasped my hand firmly, ensuring we moved in the same direction. The house enveloped us in impenetrable darkness, and my thoughts raced, thinking how we just kissed but we act like nothing happend.

Breaking the uneasy silence, I suggested, "My iPad is in my room. Let's get there to have some light."

"Don't you have flashlights?" Jungkook inquired, his grip on my hand tightening, revealing a touch of vulnerability.

"I took them out about an hour ago, but I have no idea where I put them," I admitted with a sigh, frustration lacing my words.

"Damn, Bri," Jungkook sighed, a subtle chuckle escaping him.

"Hey, you left your phone at home," I retorted, a laugh bubbling up in response to the irony of our predicament.

“Lead the way then,” Jungkook sighed, and we navigated cautiously through the darkness, the air thick with tension. Suddenly, a soft bump resonated through the space, and I winced. “Be careful,” he urged, his hands now assisting me in ascending the stairs.

Reaching the second floor, I extended my arms, feeling for familiar surroundings. The second floor has my room, a guest bathroom, my parent’s room and a guest room. Mine is right next to the stairs.

"Here," I announced, finding my bedroom door. Inside, my fingers fumbled on the nightstand, searching for my iPad. "Damn it, I forgot to charge it. It only has 10%," I exclaimed in frustration. When I looked up, Jungkook's big doe eyes met mine, and I felt a strange warmth despite the chilly darkness.

"I can't believe it," he mumbled, plopping on the bed and reaching for the iPad to illuminate the room.

"I don't really use it," I defended myself.

"Good excuse," he teased, scanning the room with the makeshift light. His attention shifted to a framed photo on my dresser. "That's you?" he asked, pointing to a picture with me and Avery.

I nodded, picking up the photo. "Yeah, next to me is Avery."

He wore an impressed expression. "You sure had a glow-up. How old is this?"

"Like five years ago?" I guessed, placing the photo back on the nightstand.

"And you're..." I realized I hadn't shared my age.

"20," I quickly added, feeling a sudden twinge of self-consciousness.

"Aw, you were just 15," he smiled, studying my face.

"Yeah, and ugly and dumb," I self-deprecated.

"Hey! Don't say that! Now you're just not ugly," he teased, his characteristic smirk on full display.

"What the hell?" I playfully pushed him, and he burst into laughter.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he reassured, still chuckling.

"Sure," I sighed, opening the wardrobe to grab a hoodie. The room seemed to grow colder, prompting me to put it on.

"You cold?" He asked, looking over at me.

"A bit," I admitted, biting my lip.

“Damn.” Jungkook muttered, his gaze lingering on me as I pulled the hoodie over my head. The dim light from the iPad cast subtle shadows on his face, emphasizing the uncertainty in his expression.

I caught the hint of something unspoken in the air, prompting me to break the silence. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. I sit next to him now laying down, covering myself in the blanket.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Just thinking about how crazy tonight has been. I mean, I came here on a storm, we went from a blackout to searching for an iPad in the dark.”

I chuckled, the tension easing a bit. “Yeah, it’s been quite the adventure.”

He lays down next to me.

His eyes met mine, a flicker of something more intense passing between us. “And there’s that,” he added, his voice softer now.

“What do you mean?” I inquired, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Moving myself completely to face him.

“You know,” he started, choosing his words carefully. “The kiss. It happened, and now we’re here in the dark, and it’s like it never did.”

I felt my cheeks warm, the memory of our unexpected kiss replaying in my mind. “Yeah, about that,” I began, unsure where the conversation would lead.

He cut me off with a gentle smile. “I’m not complaining. Just trying to wrap my head around it.”

“Do you wan-“ He cuts me off.

.“I don’t know. Do you want to play 20 Questions or something to pass the time.” He seems very agitated.

“Sure, why not?” I agreed, eager to divert our thoughts. I try to not show how i really feel about just getting over the kiss subject.

“Okay, first question: Where did you grow up?”

His expression shifted momentarily, a flicker of hesitation crossing his features. “Seoul,” he replied vaguely, not offering more details. “You?” He asks curiously.

“Brooklyn.” I sensed his reluctance to delve into the topic, so I changed course. “My parents actually moved to another state a while ago. It’s been strange not having them around.”

Jungkook looked genuinely interested. “Really? Why’d they move?”

“Work,” I explained. “They found better opportunities, and I guess they wanted a change of scenery. It’s just me here now.”

His eyes softened with understanding, and I could tell he wanted to ask more.

Instead, I diverted the conversation to his parents.

“And your folks? What about them?”

I noticed a subtle shift in his demeanor, a guardedness that hadn’t been there before

“They’re around,” he replied vaguely, avoiding eye contact.

I sensed his reluctance and decided not to press further. “Fair enough.

“I’ve been wondering about Ander- If you wanna talk about it. Like how’d you two met and how did you start a freaking band?” He asks, his eyes searching for mine.

“Ander’s been my friend since high school. We both had this crazy obsession with old music, and we bonded over that,” she began, a nostalgic smile playing on her lips. “He initiated that we should make a ‘band,’ and I’d be the lead singer while he’d be the guitarist. He was really talented, playing all day in school, driving teachers crazy. He’s still good, but, you know, people change who they are, not their capabilities.”

Jungkook, his eyes reflecting genuine interest, listened carefully to her story. Brianna, embracing the newfound openness between them, decided to steer the conversation toward Jungkook’s passions.

“Let’s get over that topic,” she chuckled, nudging him playfully. “Tell me, aside from music, what are your other passions or hobbies?”

Jungkook, a plushie of a cat in hand, smiled as he confessed, “Well, I’m into photography.”

“Really?” Brianna’s curiosity sparked, and she straightened on the bed.

“Yeah, I like capturing moments, you know? I’d love to take pictures of you one day,” he said, his smile accompanied by a playful wink.

“If I let you,” she replied, giggling. “Have you ever traveled outside of the US?”

“Yeah, um, I went to almost every country in europe with my family, we stayed like 2 days in each for the summer break when i was in 11th grade. I loved Santorini.”

“Wow. Impressive. So you’re rich rich.” she elbows him. Actually, she was so much impressed than she showed him.

“My parents are, yeah, not me.” He corrects, modesty in his tone.

“Yeah but-“ I got cut off by him again.“You? Have you traveled?”

“Only in some states where i have my aunts or uncles.” I pout and get jealous of how much he’s seen.

“If you could change one decision from your past, what would it be and why?” I ask.

Jungkook paused, then confessed, “I think there’s a part of me that wishes I had pursued music more passionately from the beginning. I held back a bit out of fear.”

I remain silent as I take the cat from

his hand.

“What’s your biggest dream, Brianna?” Jungkook now looks at the cat but his eyes shift to mine, looking for truth.

“To make people feel connected to my music, to make people feel happy, feel sad, party to it, cry to it, to have thousands of people coming to watch me sing for them.”

“Well i’ll tell you a secret, i’m from the future and what you said it’s gonna happen.”

“Come on.” I laugh and punch his arm lightly. “Ok now me again.” I pause and think. “If you could have dinner with anyone, dead or alive, who would it be?”

“Such a “What to ask on a first date” from Wikihow or Buzz Feed kind of stuff question.”

“Fuck off!” they laughed, playful shoves exchanged. “Tell me!” I keep pushing him.

“Ok ok, Elvis Presley. I absolutely adore that man’s music.”

I nod, trying to find someone I’d go to dinner with. “I’d go with Freddy Mercury”

He looks at the ipad that now has

1% “Good choice. Hey, this is about to die.”

“We also don’t have internet connection or signal to see when we’ll get the power back.”

I sigh. Does that mean he’s gonna spend the night? I question myself.

“So lucky of us.” I sigh and look at him

again.

“Yeah.” he shrugs and when the Ipad finally ends it life, we stay in the darkness.

"I'm so bored," Jungkook announces, his voice echoing the monotony of the dark room.

"What's your body count?" I blurt out, surprising even myself with the sudden boldness.

"Damn, straight forward, huh?" he giggles, the dimness concealing the sly grin on his face. "I don't know, I don't count them."

"Approximately. Like you gotta know," I insist, pushing for a hint of revelation.

"I really don't know. You tell me," he challenges, turning the tables on me.

"I'm not telling you," I assert, maintaining a semblance of mystery.

"Why should I then?" he counters, his playful defiance hanging in the air.

"Fair," I sigh, but just as the silence begins to settle, Jungkook decides to unravel a bit of his own mystery. "It's around 15."

Leaning in, I tease, "Oh, I expected much more."

"Do I look like such a fuckboy? Don't answer that," he injects, his tone suddenly serious, only to be met with an eruption of laughter from me. He continues: "Even 15 is much. I wish it was like 2 or 3."

"Yeah, it may not be the best number, but still better than a lot of guys. Mine is 2," I confesses, revealing a surprising layer of vulnerability.

"Boyfriends?" He inquires, sensing there might be more to this story.

"Myeah," I acknowledge with a casual nod.

"I see. Have you ever… had anything with Ander?" Jungkook probes, curious about the dynamics between us.

"Hell no," I asserts "Well, he tried many times, but I friendzoned him until he got over and started liking other girls. He also tried to kiss me but nothing more. If he tried anything else… well, let's just say I'd be singing alone all the time."

"I see," He respond, the room now buzzing with a different energy, laughter and revelations dancing in the dimness. He stays silent a bit before continues in a low voice: “Do you have kinks?”

My hand trembled slightly as I took a sip of water, trying to mask my surprise at Jungkook's unexpected turn in the conversation. His chuckle cut through the awkwardness like a lifeline, and he leaned back, a playful glint in his eyes.

"If you're going to ask me such a personal question, it's only fair I get to ask you one in return," he declared, raising an eyebrow as if challenging me.

"Only if you spill first," I countered, unwilling to let him off the hook.

"I asked first," he retorted, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"I don't care," I shot back, determination in my tone.

"Me neither," he sighed, his gaze holding mine in a playful standoff. The room fell into a sudden, uncomfortable silence, amplifying the sound of tree branches scraping against the house and the howling wind outside. It was still dark.

"When the iPad died, it was around 10 pm," I mumbled, my attempt to bridge the gap with a practical detail.

A wry smile played on Jungkook's lips, his eyes holding a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "And now? Any guesses?"

I shook my head, realizing the absurdity of trying to estimate time in the pitch-black darkness. "No idea. Feels like we've been here forever."

He chuckled, a sound that carried a subtle reassurance. "Time flies, especially when you're in the dark with someone interesting."

A playful smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I navigated the intriguing twists of our conversation. "So you think I'm interesting," I remarked, my smile lingering even though he couldn't see it.

He responded with a sly challenge, delving into a more personal territory. "I might think that if you tell me if you have kinks. I really think everyone does. I was thinking about it some time ago, discovered mine recently."

A mischievous idea crossed my mind. "If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

"I don't want to; I asked first."

"And I don't care you asked first."

"Fuck, Brianna, what do I gotta do to make you say it?" he sighed, frustration evident as he let his head fall onto the pillow.

"Are you really that curious?" I teased, the dim room masking the playful glint in my eyes.

"Fuck yeah, now I am!" he exclaimed.

I pat his arm until I feel his hand, it was big, if you might add, and veiny, full of tattoos, even tho i couldnt see them, i knew they were there.

"You have a... hand kink?" He inquired, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Well, if that's how you call it, then yes."

I confess.

"What exactly do you like about hands?" He now sounds serious and curious, like he really wants to know.

"They're hot. I just... they're hot," I admitted, and as his gaze met mine, I found myself captivated by the intensity in his eyes.

"Do you think mine are?" he whispered, a vulnerability underlying the question.

"Well, I do," I replied, almost hesitating. His hand found my waist, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver through me.

"What do you like, Jungkook?" I asked, the air between us charged with anticipation.

"Hmm, everything, especially you."

“W-what.” I whisper as he gets on top of me. I feel our bodies lean closer together, the heat between us rising with each breath. I run my fingers through Jungkook's hair, caressing his neck and tracing his shoulders. I draw him closer, his lips just moments away from meeting mine. Our lips finally meet, the passion finally released, our tongues mingling in an intimate dance. His hand squeezes mine, the other hand running down my body to my waist. I draw him closer, our bodies tangled intimately. I feel like I’m kissing him for the first time, even if I’m not.

Breaking the kiss, he looked into my eyes, both of us breathless. "Is this okay?" he asked, seeking affirmation for more than just the kiss.

"It's more than okay," I assured him.

"I really like you, Bri," he confessed, his hand gently caressing my face.

"I like you too," I finally admitted, and before he could say anything else, I pulled him into another deep kiss. Fingers entwined in his soft, fragrant hair, our connection deepening with each passing moment.

Suddenly, when everything was almost too perfect, we hear a loud beep, tv starts playing downstairs, the room now being all bright again, outside you couldn’t hear anything anymore. the storm has stopped. lucky us.

My heart raced as I pushed him away, the sudden intensity leaving an awkward tension in the room. "Now that's cringe," I mumbled, trying to diffuse the situation.

"Really?," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. He reached for my face, planting a small, lingering kiss on my swollen lips. Laughter escaped him, and confusion etched my features.

"W-what? Why are you laughing?" I stammered, feeling a surge of insecurity.

"Your cheeks, and nose, and forehead—you're blushing so hard," he chuckled. Before I could protest, he gently pushed me back onto the pillow, peppering my face with soft pecks.

"H-Hey!" I managed to utter between giggles, his kisses playfully tickling every inch of my blushing face. He finally stopped, getting up with a mischievous smile.

"Let's go downstairs," he suggested. I gathered myself, taking off my hoodie, revealing a simple tank top and sweatpants. As I left the room, the familiar sounds of a Brooklyn 99 episode echoed through the house. Retrieving my phone, I noticed a slew of messages and the late hour, now reaching 10 o'clock.

"It's late. I think I'll just leave now. When should I come for rehearsals? Also… I'll bring your clothes tomorrow," Jungkook said.

"No problem, maybe, uhh… like 1 pm?" I suggested, my newfound awkwardness betraying the earlier intensity.

"Right. I'll be there," he agreed. Cupping my face, he planted a final soft kiss on my lips. "Take care."

"You too," I replied, closing the door behind him. The weight of the moment lingered, and I couldn't help but reflect on the unexpected turn of events. Oh my god.

———

#bts jk #bts jungkook #bts #jeon jungkook #jeongguk #jk x reader #jk x you #jungkook and reader #jungkook #jungkook x oc

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connieluvsr · 6 months

Text

ONE OF THE GIRLS | part 2

pairing: (electric) guitarist!jungkook x singer!reader(f)

genre: band au, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

summary: when your main guitarist gets sick and can't perform at your show, you get help from someone unexpected.

warnings: swearing and some making out, hot jk:)), drinking, mention of drugs, smoking, slight smut.

a/n: hi! another part here, i dont know how many i’ll do but probably like 5.

___________________________________________

You impatiently tapped your foot, frustration mounting as the clock's hands inched toward 9:30. the anticipation weighed heavily on you, your eyes fixated on the clock's slow progress. minutes stretched into an eternity, and yet, there was no sign of his arrival.

With each passing moment, your gaze darted back and forth between the door and the relentless ticking of the clock. your impatience reached its peak when, finally, a faint, almost timid knock resonated through the silence of your home.

Your heart raced as you dashed to the door, caught between excitement and a desire to mask your eagerness. Your hand hovered over the doorknob for a moment, your mind racing with thoughts of how to appear casual. With a deep breath, you swung the door open.

Jungkook, dressed head to toe in a striking leather outfit that seemed to accentuate his aura of confidence. in one hand, he held a guitar case, while the other rested casually in his pocket. His intense gaze met yours, and a simple "sup" escaped his lips as he sauntered into the room, an air of nonchalance surrounding him.

A scoff escaped your lips, your frustration momentarily overcoming any desire to be polite. without a word, you resisted the urge to let him inside, your irritation palpable in the charged atmosphere between you.

You motioned for him to follow, leading the way with determined strides. As you guided him towards the garage, the air crackled with tension, a mixture of anticipation and curiosity hanging between you two.

The dim light of the garage studio casts elongated shadows on the walls as Jungkook reclines back on the creaky rocking chair, an air of nonchalance surrounding him. His legs are spread wide open, displaying a casual confidence that matches the slight smirk playing on his lips. A cigarette dangles between his fingers, tendrils of smoke spiraling lazily into the air, adding an ethereal quality to the room.

Your eyes, however, remain fixated on the guitar next to him. The melody he sang yesterday seems to echo in your thoughts, drowning out Jungkook's words. it takes a moment for his question to register, pulling you back from the musical trance you've fallen into.

"Hm?" you respond, your attention torn away from the strings as you finally glance up at him. His expression is a mix of confusion and impatience, his raised eyebrow questioning your distraction.

“What do you want to sing?” he repeats, the words cutting through the lingering chords of the song in your mind.

Your sigh is almost involuntary as you settle onto the couch, the worn leather creaking beneath your weight. You reach into your backpack, fingers rifling through the papers until you find the notes for “Attention” by Charlie Puth. with a sense of determination, you offer the papers to Jungkook, your anticipation turning into confusion as he merely stares at them without taking them from your hands.

“No,” he states simply, his voice carrying a finality that catches you off guard.

“What?” Your voice cracks with surprise, your brows furrowing in confusion. You had expected resistance, but his refusal takes you aback.

He reaches into his pocket, retrieving his phone with an air of casual indifference. The screen lights up, revealing a list of songs neatly typed out in his notes. He thrusts the phone toward you, a silent command in his eyes.

“Pick one” he says curtly, another puff of smoke escaping his lips as he leans back, seemingly unfazed by the situation.

You take the phone and glide through his notes app. “i don’t know any of these… oh, I know this one, ‘One of the Girls’?” you point out, a hint of recognition in your voice.

“It’s excellent with my guitar, trust me, take that one,” he replies, his fingers idly strumming a few chords, the melody filling the room with a captivating allure.

“I want ‘Attention,’” you insist, your voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air.

“You do?” a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, his fingers dancing effortlessly across the strings as he teases out the melody of the song you had suggested.

“I want that song, I mean,” you clarify, your eyes involuntarily following the movement of his hands, noticing the veins tracing intricate patterns beneath his skin.

Your voice carries a blend of irritation and exasperation, the tendrils of smoke curling between you both, noticing the sleek, cracked screen that contrasts starkly against the intensity of his personality. a silent sigh escapes your lips, wondering how someone who seems to have it all can be so careless with his belongings.

"You can't smoke in here, you know?" You reiterate, your eyes narrowing at him. you watch as he takes another drag from the cigarette, his eyebrow arching in defiance as if daring you to challenge him further.

"Telling me that after I almost finish?" he retorts, his voice laced with a hint of amusement, as if he finds your concern amusing.

"Well, I... I forgot to tell you," you stammer, your voice faltering slightly under his scrutinizing gaze. It's not entirely true – you didn't forget; you hesitated, knowing the clash it would cause. But admitting this vulnerability to him feels like admitting defeat, and your pride won't allow that.

He stays silent, his dark eyes locked onto yours, a silent standoff between your principles and his rebellious streak. Despite the tension, you can't help but notice the subtle flicker of curiosity in his eyes, as if he's studying your reaction.

Eventually, he stubs out the cigarette, dropping the smoldering remains into the nearby garbage can. It's a small victory, but you can't help but wonder why he had more cigarettes on him, especially considering the smoky haze that had already enveloped the space.

The room falls into an uneasy quiet, the faint scent of smoke lingering in the air. there’s a palpable tension between the two of you, a clash of wills that sets the stage for the challenges you're about to face in your musical partnership. As you hold his cracked phone, you can't shake the feeling that this interaction is just a glimpse of the complexities that lie beneath Jungkook's confident exterior.

"I still want to sing 'Attention,' not the songs you picked," you assert, your voice carrying a mix of defiance and frustration.

"But I thought we agreed on 'One of the Girls?'" he retorts, his tone challenging, as if daring you to contradict him.

"But I wa—" you begin, only to be cut off by his sharp interruption.

"Either that," he points at his phone, still in your hand, "or I'm gone. find someone else," he states, his gaze unwavering as he locks eyes with you.

zyou can't believe his audacity, his unwillingness to compromise. Anger simmers beneath your skin, your words laced with resentment. "you're a dick, you know that? Why won't you just... Why did you even agree if you won't even do what I suggest? you only want it your way."

"’Cause I get nothing if we do it your way. at least with that song, I'd stand out more," he replies casually, his words cutting through the tension like a sharp blade. his indifference stings, the reality of his motivations laid bare.

"I can't fucking believe you. Fine, go. I don't care. i'll find someone else," You say, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disappointment.

He smiles, a cold, calculated expression that sends a chill down your spine. Without another word, he gets up, accepting his phone from your hand. as he packs his guitar, the room feels emptier, the music that once filled the air replaced by a heavy silence. before you can comprehend what's happening, he leaves, the door closing behind him with a resounding finality.

"What have I done?" you murmur to yourself, the weight of the situation sinking in. Doubt creeps into your mind, questioning your decisions and wondering if there was something more you could have done to salvage the partnership. As you sit alone in the now-silent studio, you're left with a haunting sense of regret.

You need him, he doesn’t need you. Now you’re fucked.

___________________________________________

Ander’s eyes widen in disbelief, his brows furrowing at your revelation. "You did what?" he exclaims, his voice a mix of shock and frustration. his reaction jolts you, making you realize the gravity of your decision.

"He was such a dick! He didn't even like the song I wanted to sing. he only wanted what he had picked. it’s stupid; i’m not his toy to do whatever he wants. It's MY show and not his," You vent, your words laced with righteous indignation.

Ander sighs, his frustration palpable as he tries to reason with you. "No, now you don't have a show anymore with your attitude. what’s wrong with the songs he picked?" he questions, his tone challenging your defiance.

You struggle to find the right words, desperately searching for excuses to justify your actions. deep down, you know it's not about the songs – it's about asserting your independence, your refusal to be manipulated. "I just... don't want him to win," you admit, your voice faltering under the weight of your conflicting emotions.

"Win what, Brianna? This is not a fucking competition, for fuck's sake!" Ander’s raised voice pierces the air, his frustration mirroring your own.

Feeling defeated, you lower your gaze, a mix of shame and uncertainty clouding your thoughts. ander’s words resonate in your mind, making you question your decisions. "I... I know, but that's not what I mean! I mean he probably will be like," You pause, your voice dropping into a mocking imitation of Jungkook, "Oh yeah, she sings whatever I say. she listens to my commands; I'm sure she'll suck my dick if I asked her." your voice rises in anger, the absurdity of the situation fueling your frustration.

“You know that’s not gonna happen.” Ander watches you, his expression a blend of concern and understanding. “But you gotta fix this. talk to him, you gotta prove to him that it’s his loss, not yours” he continues.

"But it is my loss," you sigh heavily, the weight of the situation pressing down on your shoulders. doubts creeps in, gnawing at your confidence, leaving you wondering if you've made a grave mistake.

"He doesn't know that. i’ll text Zac, and you'll go and talk to him," Ander suggests, his voice laced with concern. his eyes meet yours, silently urging you to confront the situation head-on.

"I don't want to beg him to come back. it’s like I fail," you confess, your voice barely audible as you admit your fear of appearing weak and vulnerable. Frustration bubbles within you, a mix of pride and insecurity colliding, leaving you torn between salvaging the collaboration and preserving your self-respect.

You cover your eyes with your hands, seeking solace in the darkness behind your palms. ander places a gentle hand on your shoulder, his touch offering a silent reassurance. In that moment, you grapple with your emotions, trying to find the strength to face Jungkook and convince him to give your partnership another chance. The room is filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your shaky breaths, as you prepare yourself for the difficult conversation that lies ahead.

___________________________________________

"Sure, that's his location. want me to drop you off?" Avery says, her voice filled with genuine concern as she takes a casual sip of her smoothie.

"No, it's not far. i'll just walk there," You reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel about the impending conversation.

"Okay, healthy girl," she teases, a playful giggle escaping her lips. “Says the one drinking a green smoothie,” You retort, making a disgusted face in response to her choice of beverage. with a final exchange of goodbyes, you leave the cafe, Avery remaining behind to focus on her studies.

As you walk towards Jungkook's house, a mix of determination and apprehension swirls within you. maybe the most cringy thing to do. just as you brace yourself for the confrontation, your phone buzzes with a call from your mother.

"What now?" you answer, your tone reflecting your impatience.

"When's your show?" your mother's voice comes through the line, her tone surprisingly enthusiastic.

"what’s up? what do you want?" you ask, wary of her sudden interest in your music career.

"I want to see you!" she exclaims, her excitement palpable through the phone. "And I'll come with Michael too!"

"God, please don't. Just... why all of a sudden do you want to come to my show?" you inquire, suspicious of her motives.

"I told him you sing and all, and for like a month, he keeps asking me to come see you. what can I do?" she replies, her voice tinged with a mix of annoyance and helplessness. At least her boyfriend wants to if she doesn’t.

"Well, at least he makes you come," you blurt out.

"What?" she sounds horrified, clearly not understanding your sarcasm.

"To the show," you clarify, rolling your eyes despite her inability to see you.

"So when is it?" she asks, attempting to keep the conversation on track.

"Next week on the 14th," you respond, reluctantly providing her with the details. She never wanted for you to sing, she always told you it’s not gonna help you in life and that not everyone becomes famous out of this, that you’re not gonna be the next ‘taylor swift’ or something.

“I have work, bye.” you quickly try to hang up as you’re not in the mood for her.

As you approach the house, your eyes dart between the address on your phone and the luxurious houses that surround you. The neighborhood is filled with sprawling, opulent residences, each one seemingly grander than the last. With each step, your nervousness grows, and you find yourself double-checking the address to confirm you're at the right place. They all look remarkably similar, and you sigh with a mix of anxiety and frustration before pressing the buzzer beside the imposing front door.

You wait for what feels like an eternity, your eyes glued to the door, hoping for a response. A minute passes, and just as you're about to assume that Jungkook isn't home, the door creaks open, revealing a young girl on the other side.

"Can I help you?" she inquires, her tone laced with suspicion as she assesses you.

"Ah, yes, I um... I wondered if I can talk to Jungkook? Is he home?" you stammer, trying to sound confident despite the unease that coils within you.

"And why would I tell you?" she challenges, her skepticism evident in her piercing gaze.

Your expression shifts, clearly taken aback by her hostility. "Sorry, are you... Are you his girlfriend? I'm sorry, I—" you begin to apologize, attempting to defuse the tension.

She cuts you off with a smirk, her demeanor softening slightly. "I'm his sister. Are you dumb? He's upstairs; I was just messing with you," she explains, her amusement evident.

Behind the door, you catch snippets of Korean conversation and a loud "Jungkook-ah," leaving you standing there feeling a bit foolish.

"Hi!" a little voice chimes in, and you glance down to find a young boy, not more than six or seven years old, looking up at you with curiosity.

"Hi, buddy," you smile warmly, crouching down to his level. "You're Jungkook's brother too?"

He shakes his head, his eyes wide with innocence. "No! I'm his son!"

Your jaw practically drops to the ground at his revelation. "He has a son?" you mumble, utterly shocked by this unexpected piece of information. The complexity of Jungkook's life becomes more apparent, and you find yourself reeling from the revelation as you wait outside the grand house.

Before you can say anything you hear some more korean words you swore you knew from some k dramas you watched a while ago.

Suddely, Jungkook ahows at the door. his wet hair clinging to his forehead, dressed in grey sweatpants that clung to his legs and a tight black t-shirt that hinted at the contours of his physique, towel in his hand ruffling to his hair, he says:

“Brianna?” And you swore you never saw this much confusion in someone’s face.

“Hey! I was-“

He cuts you “Come in. Don’t stay at the door” He makes a motion of his free hand to show to come inside and adds: “take off your shoes.”

You’re confused but you do as he says, when you enter the big spacious house, your eyes are wider than ever, biggest house you’ve ever seen, and some children playing around, his sister cooking something and an older women that seems a babysitter or an aunt, not their mom since she’s american, helping a younger girl draw.

You look around, being mesmerized.

Jungkook sees that you look for a spot to sit. “ome upstairs, it’s too loud to stay here.”

You nod and you follow him upstair.

Suddenly he throws the towel into a hole in the ground that seems to go to the laundry room.

“Sit here, I’ll be right back.” He leaves and i sit on the bed and i can swear that’s the comfiest bed ever.

I look around, seeing his vintage guitar sitting in a place that seems to be just for it. The walls were black and decorated with posters of Guns ‘n’ Roses and in one is Kurt Cobain. You sit up and look at his Funko Pop collection, Angus Yung, Alice Cooper, Kurt Cobain, Slash, Duff McKagan, Kirk Hammett, Paul Stanley and one that really caught your eye, Elvis Presley, but all of them, like, the whole collection.

You sit back down as you hear footsteps, Jungkook’s hair now completely dry, you stare at him for a while before he breaks the silence.

“Why are you here?” He says and sits on his gaming chair, behind him you see like 4 different consoles and a drawer full of console games.

“I wanted to… “ You can’t find the right words, you pause and you can’t make eye contact with him, but his gaze never leaves you. “Do you think we can try again? I think your music is what i need, i mean, for the show.” you correct yourself, still not looking at him. “I’ll sing one of the girls.”

“after you called me a dick and told me i only care about myself?” This made you pause.

you remained silent.

“hm?” he asks again, arms crossed over his chest.

My eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet his intense stare.

His sigh cut through the silence, the sound carrying a mixture of frustration and disappointment. "Come on," he said, his tone softer now but no less penetrating. "Where did your confidence go?"

I felt a lump form in my throat, my hands fidgeting nervously as I searched for the right words. "I just wanted to be honest," I stammered, my voice barely audible.

Jungkook's eyes bore into mine, his expression a mix of skepticism and curiosity.

"I know I messed up," I began, my voice steady now, fortified by my determination. "But I believe you have a lot to gain from this collaboration too. Think about it," I continued, my words flowing with calculated conviction. "By helping me, you'd not only showcase your talent but also gain recognition, perhaps even more than me. Imagine the girls swooning, thinking the guitarist noticed them. You'd be their heartthrob, their dream. It's a chance to captivate an even larger audience, to be adored by fans far and wide."

I paused, allowing the idea to settle between us. "Picture this," I continued, my voice taking on a persuasive tone. "If our collaboration becomes a success, the spotlight won't just be on me. It'll shine on you too, brighter and more dazzling than ever. More fans, more gigs, more opportunities. We could become a force to be reckoned with in the music industry, and you, Jungkook, could soar to heights you've only dreamt of."

The words flowed from my lips, weaving a tapestry of deception that hung in the air, glistening with promise. I felt a pang of guilt for the lies I was feeding him, for playing into his desires and aspirations. Because i don’t believe a word i said, but he was sure eating it up.

As I spoke, I watched his expression carefully, trying to gauge his reaction.

In the silence that followed, I held my breath, waiting for his response, nothing.

You wait, and you wait.

Fuck.

He’s not buying it.

Time seemed to stretch, each moment dragging like an eternity. The weight of his silence bore down on me, filling the room with a suffocating sense of defeat.

A wave of frustration washed over me, mingling with disappointment and self-reproach. How had I let it come to this?

"Okay," I finally said “I’ll just go.” You look one more time at him before opening the door, you go down on the stairs, you look back, thinking he’s coming after you.

He’s not.

And you leave the house.

_______

It’s Friday night and you’re eating popcorn watching Girl Vs Monster on Disney+.

You feel like a child again, Halloween was near and you had no friends or plans, Avery was hanging with Zac every weekend and you had College in the week, nothing happens at all in your life. The show was in 5 days, yet, you didn’t cancel it, like you knew you could find someone, You didn’t, obviously.

Jungkook letting you talk alone and not even saying bye to you left you as speechless as he was, you told Avery and when she told Zac he was as shocked as you.

Suddenly, your phone rings.

“Girl, get ready, we goin’ out.”

“What? Where?” You say, focused on the movie and not choking up on your popcorn bits.

“Some club with live music, it’s gonna be fun, wear something sexy i’m coming in an hour.”

Before you could say the biggest NO ever, she hang up.

At least you won’t say you’re bored.

After doing your makeup and putting on a tight black dress, you get out of the house, looking at the clock on the phone that says 11:32.

“Fuck Avery where are you.”

It was October and you were already freezing, New York sucks in autumn.

Before you could think of another swears, Avery shows up with Zac next to her, you quickly enter the car, overwhelmed by the car’s heat

“Damn i know its not summer outside but still chill with the heat”

“Fuck sorry” Avary giggles and you hear a small ‘Sup’ from Zac in the front. The drive was short you didn’t realize you were there.

The neon lights of the club flickered like distant stars against the night sky as I approached, the thumping bass reverberating through the pavement beneath my feet.

A wave of anticipation washed over me as I stepped inside, the music engulfing me like a tidal wave of sound. The air was alive with the mingling scents of perfume, sweat, gross, and the subtle aroma of cocktails.

I find a table for us, I settled into the plush seating. Zac had left momentarily to fetch our drinks, leaving me in the company of Avery. The DJ booth, bathed in neon hues, had caught my attention, and I couldn't help but notice the abrupt departure of the DJ who had been commanding the dance floor just moments ago.

"Why is the DJ leaving?" I inquired, a hint of amusement in my voice, directing my question to Avery, who was observing the scene with a similar sense of intrigue.

Avery shrugged nonchalantly. "Hm, I don't know. Maybe a break?" Her response was casual, her attention already shifting back to her surroundings.

Just then, Zac returned, balancing a tray of vibrant cocktails in his hands. "Here ya go, ladies," he announced cheerfully, placing the drinks on our table. "Be right back." With a nod, he excused himself and made his way toward a figure at the front of the club, leaving Avery and me to enjoy our drinks.

As I took a sip, my gaze drifted across the crowd, inadvertently landing on Jungkook. My reaction was immediate and unfiltered. "That's Jungkook?" I exclaimed, my voice rising above the club's din, reaching Avery's ears amidst the crowded chaos.

Zac approached Jungkook, offering him a warm hug before helping him settle onto the stage. Avery, seemingly unbothered, raised an eyebrow at my outburst, her lips curling into a knowing smile.

"Yeah... about that..." Avery began, her tone suggesting a hidden secret, her nonchalant demeanor contradicting my sudden astonishment.

I scoffed, even though she couldn't hear me properly over the club's pounding music. "It was Zac's idea! Plus, if you had known he was singing, you would not have come," She muttered, my frustration evident, my eyes narrowing at Jungkook, who was now garnering attention on the stage.

“exactly!” I agree with her.. "He's the last person I want to see right now. He'll think I'm his fan. Gross." The sarcasm in my voice was evident, our shared sentiment about the unexpected turn of events bonding us in a moment of mutual exasperation.

“Ladies and Gentlemen” a man that seems the manager of the club starts. “Give it up for Jungkook!” The room erupted into a chorus of screams, mostly from excited girls, actually, only girls, the rest just clapped. I sit back with my eyes fixated on him.

Suddenly, his fingers start playing a song very popular and known, i try to remember the name and Avery screams

“LOVE SONG BY RIHANNA NO WAY” She claps with the rest and screams like a fan girl.

“Fuck” I mutter.

“I don’t wanna give you the wrong impression.” He starts, playing with his guitar that sounded and not gonna lie, amazing, i love that fucking instrument, yet, his voice? He can sing? Damn.

“I need love and affection. And I hope i’m not sounding too desperate.”

Fuck, his voice was angelic, he sounded really good.

Then Avery continues, jungkook doesn’t “I need love and affection Wooooo” she screams and my ears are bleeding.

(Here’s how jungkook sounded playing that song https://youtu.be/q6oOi2W0GXA?si=WuN2Lu4u3jU5Mkuh (if the link doesnt work, paste it on youtube, its better so get how he sounds)

The song still going on, his gaze suddenly moves to me, I choke on my drink and see how surprised he is too, he didn’t know i was here.

“Can you love me for poor? I’m searching for my soul”

He sings and looks at me. Just at me. Like… just at me.

“And I hope I'm not sounding too desperateI need love and affection” The final words of the song are more deep and low now. And with some notes on his guitar, he finishes. The room is filled with applause and screams.

“Thank you.” And with that, Jungkook leaves the stage.

"Hey!! Earth to Brianna?" Avery continued, her words a gentle but insistent nudge, breaking through my trance-like state.

"W-what?" I stammered, my attention snapping back to the present moment. The pulsating music and the lingering echoes of Jungkook's performance surrounded me, the reality of the club engulfing my senses once again.

"You should totally go up there," Avery urged, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. "Show them what you've got! This could be your chance to shine too."

I hesitated, my mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and insecurities. The stage, once an alluring spotlight, now seemed like an intimidating abyss, each step toward it filled with uncertainty. Yet, Avery's encouragement hung in the air, a glimmer of possibility that tugged at my ambitions.

Taking a deep breath, I say “Yeah… Maybe i should. But i don’t have Ander with me. I’m gonna sing acapella? really?” I sigh.

“Yeah, you don’t need Ander, go on, your voice is perfect without any instrument.” She hugs you tightly and pushes you to go to the stage.

With newfound determination, I stood up from the table, my heart racing with a mix of anticipation and fear. The stage loomed before me, its allure now tinged with the promise of opportunity. As I took a step forward, I pushed aside my doubts, ready to embrace the challenge that lay ahead. With Avery's unwavering support echoing in my ears, I ventured toward the stage, my gaze fixed on the spotlight

"Hi…" I began, my voice amplified by the microphone, resonating through the club like a hesitant whisper. "I'm Brianna, and I'm gonna sing…" Panic settled in as I realized I hadn't prepared a song beforehand. Desperation gripped my thoughts, my mind flickering to Jungkook's earlier list of songs. "Friends, by Chase Atlantic," I blurted out, hoping it was a decent choice.

A smattering of applause greeted my song choice, drowned out by the echo of Jungkook's popularity, evident in the resounding cheers that followed Avery's enthusiastic scream and Zac's supportive applause.

I took a deep breath, the stage lights casting long shadows across the floor beneath me. "Boy, tell me what you're doing on the other side," I started, my voice shaky with nerves. The acapella beginning proved challenging, lacking the safety net of instruments to ensure I stayed on key and in good time. Doubt gnawed at my confidence, threatening to consume me whole.

But just as uncertainty threatened to overwhelm me, a figure appeared on the stage beside me. I turned my head to my right, my eyes widening in surprise—it was Jungkook. Confusion etched across my face, silently asking him, "What the fuck?"

He nodded subtly, his gesture indicating the precise moment the beat should have dropped. Without missing a beat, he started accompanying me with his guitar, his skilled fingers coaxing harmonious melodies from the strings. The crowd erupted into cheers, their enthusiasm fueling my determination.

"All of your friends have been here for too long. They must be waiting for you to move on," I sang, newfound confidence surging through me. Jungkook's presence, his unwavering support, transformed the daunting stage into a sanctuary of shared music. The crowd's cheers merged with the melody, creating an electric atmosphere that vibrated with the synergy of our voices and instruments.

(here’s how it sounded https://youtu.be/lOOcEsmNVMg?si=KwZsXCMa5dzn-b1E )

Avery, my biggest cheerleader, was now on the table, her excitement palpable. With Jungkook's guidance and the crowd's energy, I felt a surge of exhilaration, embracing the moment and channeling it into my performance. The stage, once intimidating, now felt like a place where I could truly express myself, my voice melding with Jungkook's guitar in a harmonious fusion of music and emotion.

“Wish you'd let me stay, I'm ready now” Jungkook ends the song with an impressing note and everyone is screaming, more than ever. Your smile is bigger than the club now and you look at Jungkook, he was smiling a bit, just a tiny bit, he gives you a nod and gestures towards you, like giving the applause just to you.

As the final notes of performance echoed through the club, Jungkook and I descended from the stage, our footsteps synchronized with the fading music. Avery, electrified by our performance, lunged at us the moment we were within reach, her arms wrapping around me in a bone-crushing hug.

"I can't breathe, Jesus," I gasped, half-laughing, half-suffocating in her enthusiastic embrace. She released me, her laughter filling the air as she hugged me once more, her genuine excitement contagious.

"You were amazing!! And you too!" she exclaimed, her eyes shifting to Jungkook, who responded with a modest nod, his expression a blend of humility and pride.

"You two are incredible, just do the show together!" Zac chimed in, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. I glanced at him, my gaze intense and determined, ready to refute the idea. “That’s not-“ But before I could voice my thoughts, Jungkook spoke up, his voice cutting through the noise of the club.

"I think that's gonna work," he stated, his tone assured, catching me off guard. My eyes met his, filled with shock and disbelief. His confidence seemed unwavering, and for a moment, I found myself at a loss for words.

"Fuck yeah!" Avery screamed, her excitement uncontainable as she hugged me again. Amidst her elation, Jungkook excused himself, making his way toward the exit, presumably for a smoke break. I felt a strong urge to follow him, my curiosity piqued by his unexpected decision.

"I'll catch up with you in a bit, Avery," I said, gently extricating myself from her grip. Ignoring her protests, I trailed after Jungkook, my steps quickening to match his pace. The neon lights of the club faded behind us as we stepped into the cool night air.

"Hey," I called out, my voice slightly breathless as I caught up with him. Jungkook turned, his eyes meeting mine, a hint of something unreadable flickering in their depths.

"What was that back there?" I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"What?," he replied cryptically, his gaze lingering on mine for a moment longer before he turned away, his silhouette disappearing into the night.

I stood there, my mind swirling with questions, torn between chasing after answers and returning to the pulsating energy of the club. Avery's voice echoed in the distance, but my attention remained fixed on the spot where Jungkook had stood, wondering about the unexpected turn our collaboration had taken.

"You want to… sing with me? In the show?" I ask him, my voice laced with surprise, my eyes widening in disbelief.

"Yeah, I do," he replies, a casual yet confident smirk playing on his lips. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around him like a mysterious veil, adding an enigmatic aura to his presence. His eyes meet mine, holding a mixture of determination and a hint of vulnerability.

“"Why?" I inquire, my eyebrows furrowing slightly, searching for an explanation in his eyes, wanting to understand the hesitation in his voice.

"You don't think we sounded good? The crowd went crazy back there," he responds, his voice carrying a mixture of disappointment and uncertainty. He glances away for a moment, as if questioning his own abilities despite the cheering audience.

"I'm used to it," I reply, a nervous chuckle escaping my lips, attempting to brush off the momentary doubt. Surprisingly, he joins in, his laughter harmonizing with mine, creating a shared moment of camaraderie amidst the uncertainty, both of us realizing the absurdity of our self-doubt.

"Good one," he says, a genuine smile breaking through, his laughter fading into a soft chuckle. With a final puff, he takes another drag from his cigarette, the smoke swirling around him like a wispy dance, emphasizing the lingering sense of connection between us.

“"You having fun?" I break the silence, my voice barely audible over the club's music.

"Not really, clubs are not my thing. I just sing here and mostly leave immediately after," he explains, his tone carrying a hint of indifference.

"They're like eating themselves," I say, gesturing towards Zac and Avery with a smirk. "I'm glad they're together."

"Yeah, I haven't seen Zac not fucking around since forever. He must really like her," he observes, his gaze briefly flickering towards the couple.

"God, now I have to wait for her to go home," I sigh, feeling the weight of impatience settling in.

He flicks his cigarette away and slips his hands into his leather jacket pockets. "Wanna get out of here?" he asks, his voice low and smooth, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Don't ask me twice," I giggle, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of escaping the crowded club.

"Come," he gestures for me to follow him, and we make our way to the parking lot. Among the luxurious cars, my eyes catch a dark blue and black motorcycle, sleek and menacing.

"Wow, look at this, cool," I remark, my voice barely audible above the background noise.

"That's mine," he smirks, his pride evident in his tone as he slips on his helmet. The letters on the back spell out '97 JJK.'

"Oh," I say, feeling a bit dumb for not realizing it earlier.

"Actually, take my helmet. I only have one; I didn't think I'd leave with someone," he offers, his voice surprisingly gentle.

Wow. Not thinking he’s gonna leave with a girl… That doesn’t seem like him.

"Thanks," I reply, taking the helmet but struggling to figure out how to close it properly. He notices my struggle and steps closer, his presence sending a shiver down my spine.

"Here," he helps me secure the helmet, his fingers brushing against my skin in a fleeting touch. I feel a strange warmth spreading through me at his proximity.

"Thank you," I manage to say, my voice slightly breathless.

He climbs onto the motorcycle, his posture confident and relaxed. I hesitate for a moment before carefully settling behind him, gripping his abdomen tentatively.

"Hold me tight, yeah?" he instructs, his voice low and smooth, sending shivers down my spine.

"Tighter," he says, his tone firm yet oddly reassuring. Looking back at me.

I follow his command, wrapping my arms around him as tightly as I can, feeling the warmth of his body against mine.

"More," he murmurs, his voice vibrating through me, and I obey, my grip intensifying. I can't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as the engine roars to life beneath us, and we speed away.

I lay my head against his back, feeling the steady rhythm of his motorcycle beneath us as we navigate the city. New York sprawls before us, a vibrant tapestry of lights and life, truly living up to its reputation. The wind rushes past, tousling my hair, and for a moment, I'm lost in the sheer awe of the city's grandeur.

After about 10 minutes, he brings the motorcycle to a stop, and I lift my head, glancing around to see a serene lake. Couples stroll along the water's edge, feeding ducks that paddle peacefully in the rippling reflections of the city lights—such a charming sight

I carefully remove my helmet, placing it on the motorcycle, and step down onto the ground. "I like this place, it's quiet," He remarks, taking in the tranquility of the surroundings.

"Do you bring all your girls here?" I tease, a playful grin tugging at my lips. He shrugs, his response cryptic yet oddly honest. "No," he replies, his gaze lingering on the lake.

I decide to approach the ducks, my affinity for them evident in my eager steps. "I'm sorry I don't have food on me," I say, pouting slightly as I address the ducks, my disappointment genuine. A soft laugh ripples through the air, and I turn to see Jungkook chuckling behind me.

"What's so funny?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.

"You're literally apologizing to some ducks," he points out, his amusement evident in his eyes.

"Yeah, because I don't have food to give them," I retort, crossing my arms over my chest as I sit down next to him on a nearby bench. To my surprise, the ducks follow me, their quacks growing louder, and I can't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with these feathered creatures.

"See? They like me," I say, a triumphant smile gracing my lips as I watch the ducks gather around, their curiosity piqued by my presence. Jungkook watches, his expression softening as he observes the scene, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"So," he starts, his voice steady as my gaze turns to him, curiosity filling my eyes.

"No, I'll start, and hear me out," I say confidently, my words hanging in the air as I gather my thoughts.

"We're going to do rehearsals with one of the boys, at my place, whenever we can find the time. The show is in 5 days, and time is tight, but we're really good, so it doesn't matter," I explain, my excitement palpable. I notice his amused face as I speak rapidly, the urgency of the situation sinking in.

"Okay, okay. Still at yours, yeah?" he asks, seeking confirmation.

"Yes," I reply, nodding in affirmation.

"You sing really well," he compliments, his tone genuine and appreciative.

"Thank you. You too. I didn't know you sang too," I say, genuine confusion lacing my words.

"Oh yeah, I sometimes do, but my main priority is my guitar," he explains, his passion evident in his voice.

"Where is it, though? Don't tell me you forgot it," I ask, a hint of playful teasing in my tone.

"Ah, no, it's in the locker rooms. I can't bring it on my bike," he replies, his explanation tinged with a touch of self-consciousness.

"Oh yeah," I respond, trying not to sound dumb, but failing to hide my understanding.

A silence settles between us, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging in the air.

"You have a son?" I venture cautiously, my curiosity getting the best of me.

"What?" he chuckles, his laughter breaking the tension. "What the fuck, no."

"But there was a little boy who—" I start, my words trailing off as confusion clouds my thoughts.

"That was my shitty little brother. He was messing with you," he explains, his tone lightening the mood.

"Darn, I got fooled by a kid," I say, laughing at my own gullibility, although the thought of him being childless leaves me feeling oddly relieved.

"You really thought I had a kid?" he asks, genuine surprise in his eyes.

"Well, you're like 25… so what's the big deal?" I respond, attempting to downplay my previous concern.

"I... nothing, just... it's too soon. And no wife," he admits, his words carrying a mix of vulnerability and uncertainty.

"I get it. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable," I say, my empathy for his situation evident in my voice.

"No, god, don't worry," he reassures me, his smile returning as he appreciates my understanding

You scroll on your instagram a bit and suddenly get a notification from a club that’s live. You click on it by mistake and before you press X your eyes widen.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

Jungkook looks at you confused and leans closer to see. “What?”

“That’s… That’s Ander. The guy that was my guitarist, and best friend.”

The live was showing Kristine, your high school rival, with Ander, accompanying her by his guitar, singing in the club.

“He told me he was fucking sick and he couldn’t sing with me and now he’s fucking singing with this bitch?” Tears welled up in your eyes, your emotions raw and overwhelming. Jungkook, witnessing your pain, remained silent but his eyes held a deep sympathy, understanding the depth of your hurt.

“FUCK IT. You know what jungkook?” he looks surprised “I knew it," you choked out, your voice filled with a mix of anger and sadness. "I never listened to anyone saying he doesn't care and he only wants to fuck me. That he isn't my best friend. We were besties since like 3rd grade, and that asshole saw he didn't have a chance and just..." Your voice trailed off as tears streamed down your cheeks, your heartache laid bare.

“Imgine if you didn’t agree to sing with me. He would’ve let me fuck my show. What the fuck. But what i don’t understand is why he really wanted me to make you sing with me.” you sigh. looking at the live.

"That's my ex, maybe that's why," Jungkook said, his words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken history.

Your eyes widened in disbelief, coughing to mask your shock. The autumn wind chilled your face, mixing with the cold from your tears. Numbly, you looked down and closed your phone, trying to block out the betrayal that had unfolded before your eyes.

"Hey, it's not your fault, he's a sucker," Jungkook said, his voice soft and comforting. Damn, seeing you all hurt and crying made him want to hug you, but he knew that wasn’t his place.

You remained silent, staring into the distance, lost in your thoughts until Jungkook spoke again, his tone oddly gentle. "Bri."

Only Avery and Ander call you that, his use of your nickname made you look at him your faces now just inches away. Before he could say anything, your phone rang, making you jump.

"What?" you answered, your voice a mixture of annoyance and pain.

"Where are you?" Avery's voice, filled with concern, echoed through the phone.

"I'm... I'm sorry for not telling you. I'm at the lake. Can you pick me up?" you confessed, your vulnerability seeping through your words.

"What—okay," she responded, her worry palpable.

"Hey, I can drop you home," Jungkook offered, his words gentle and sincere.

"No, it's fine, go home," you insisted, trying to be strong. But he wasn't having it. He draped his black leather jacket over your shoulders, now only in his CK t shirt. The warmth providing some solace against the biting cold.

"You're in a dress. You need it more than me," he said, his smile genuine, and you nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude for his kindness.

After what felt like an eternity, Avery finally arrived to pick you up. You thanked Jungkook, handing him back his jacket, your makeup smudged from tears, but he didn't seem to mind.

Upon reaching home, you took a long, hot shower, letting the water wash away the pain and betrayal. As you cried again, the weight on your chest lifted slightly. Eventually, exhaustion washed over you, and you fell into a restless sleep, haunted by the events of the night.

_______

Looking in the mirror, your face all swollen up. You kept thinking about Ander, was he really lying to you this whole time? Saying he won’t be able to sing and just leaving you figure it out? Then why did he help? Making you talk with Jungkook and all.

You were waiting for Jungkook to come at around 7 pm, all day you stood in bed crying then drank a coffee, you were too lazy to go to the stores to make something to eat, so you ate some chocolate.

You hear some knocks on the door. “Finally.” You sigh, going down to open the door, you found Ander sitting on the couch. But when he saw you, he quickly stood up.

You remained silent and shocked, his presence sending a surge of anger through your veins.

“What are you doing here?” you ask with your voice barely a whisper

“I… why didn’t you read my messages? Also i called you like 5 times today, what’s up with-“

“You’re seriously asking this? You fucker.” You scoff and push him “Get out.”

“What? What did i do” How he liked to play dumb.

“You’re really getting on my nerves.” before you could push him again, he grabs your arms and holds them tight. “Let me go, it hurts.” You stiffen in his grip.

He looks at you intensely “Tell me!” Oh now he’s begging.

You can’t believe how dumb he puts on this act, how he manipulates you. “You know damn well what’s up.”

“No, i don’t! “ he cries, his voice raising.

“Fuck you.” you scream at him, trying to free yourself.

“No, fuck you!” he screams. “Tell me!” before you could add anything else he starts laughing. “I see. you hang out with that chinese junkie and he made you his bitch, now you forgot about your best friend.”

“W-what.” you can’t believe his words “You know that’s no-“

“I don’t know anymore what’s true or not. I saw you singing and how you looked at him. You didn’t even tell me to join you at the club!” Oh as that was the problem.

You scoff. “Oh now I can’t go out with Avery? also, aren’t you supposed to be sick?” You ask, raising your eyebrow.

He remains silent for a second before he adds a stuttered “I am.”

“You sang with Kristine, you asshole, i saw the live.” You look at him, his shocked expression made you laugh.

“You’re such a piece of shit” You start “get out of my house” you raise your voice.

His look now gentle and sad “No, Bri, i can explain-“

“Don’t Bri me!” Your eyes start to water again, fuck. Not in front of him… “Let me go!” you scream again.

“Bri look i know i-“

“She said to let go.” you both turn your heads to Jungkook, now entering the house.

“Ah. i see, That’s why you didn’t even want me here, you were waiting on him right? He fucks you now? what?”

“So?” he says, pushing Ander off me, As he looks unamused and confused.

“So what if we fuck? Mad you couldn’t get to her?” he looks down on Ander. His words made you gulp. Damn, he is so much taller than Ander.

“You fucker.” Ander says as he attempted to throw a punch at Jungkook, but he effortlessly dodged the attack, choosing not to engage in a fight. Instead, he intervened, pushing Ander away from you.

“Get out. She doesn’t want you here. What kind of best friend are you? You lying bitch,” Jungkook’s words were cutting, his voice cold with disdain.

The tension in the room reached its peak, and you couldn’t take it anymore. In a moment of unexpected strength, you punched Ander while his attention wavered, catching him off guard. “Get out, now,” you said quietly, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and sadness. “Please just go, if you ever cared about me, just a little bit, you’d leave.”

Ander clenched his jaw, his gaze flickering between you and Jungkook, then he left, slamming the door behind him. You felt a mix of relief and heartache as you watched him go. Overwhelmed by emotions, you collapsed into Jungkook’s arms, hugging him tightly, your tears flowing freely now. He wrapped his arms around you, offering a comforting embrace as you cried loudly against his chest, seeking solace from the storm of emotions that had consumed you.

___________________________________________

a/n: end of part 2! damn emotional roller coaster! i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! i don’t know how many words there are since i dont know how to count them but tips are welcomed! please like and reblog and comment if you liked the story so far, there are many things to come too! kisses<3

@variety-is-the-joy-of-life

#bts jk #bts #jungkook and reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook x oc #bts jungkook #jungkook #jeon jungkoooook #jeongguk #jk x you #jk x reader #one shot #bts taehyung

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connieluvsr · 6 months

Text

ONE OF THE GIRLS | part 1

pairing: (electric) guitarist!jungkook x singer!reader(f)

genre: band au, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

summary: when your main guitarist gets sick and can’t perform at your show, you get help from someone unexpected.

warnings: swearing and some making out, hot jk:)), drinking, mention of drugs, smoking, slight smut.

a/n: my first story!! hope you’ll enjoy it, i thought of it while listening to one of the girls by the weeknd, jennie, lily rose depp and i was like hmm i think i have an idea)) anyways i have some more works but i dont really have ideas for what to happen next in them😭 enjoy!! Also part 2 is gonna be CRAZY and much better, please wait a bit!!

_________________________________________

“i’m so so so so sorry.” ander sighs and falls back on the couch. “i feel like im disappointing you.”

you shrug, placing your hands into your scalp and gently pulling your hair. “it’s not your fault, i just…” you pause for a bit. “don’t know what i’ll do, it’s over.”

ander gets up and rubs your shoulder. “hey don’t say that, it’s not! you still have time to find someone who can replace me.”

you touch his hand and smile, you knew he really is sorry, but you can’t just try acting fine when you’re not. you dreamed of this since forever, having people come somewhere just to hear you sing. you were the duo everyone knew, he was your guitarist and you were the singer, that’s it, no one else.

you thought you’d find someone to replace him, and you did, actually, but they’re not good enough.

“i’ll just go, it’s getting late, take care hm?” i say while taking my jacket from the hanger.

“bri.. come on, don’t be like that.” he goes after you and takes your arm.

“like what?” you ask with a curious face, thinking what could he possibly say.

he hesitates for a moment before speaking, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “Like you’re giving up! Like… Like you don’t even care anymore. There has to be someone who can help us.. i mean help you.”

you sigh, feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. “who? we’ve already contacted many musicians and they all sucked. none of them clicked. our sound was perfect, and that’s all”

Ander’s gaze softens, his voice gentle as he speaks “what about… zac’s friend?” he suddenly jumps. “he plays electric guitar right? maybe he could step in.”

you raise an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. “yeah i know him. even if he does, he’s Zac’s friend, we barely know him. Also he’s a total ass, he would never agree.” you’re both silent for a moment. “wait! didn’t he fucked up our first show? remember! he wanted to play in our place and his rich mommy made us move dates.” you scoff loudly. “that fucker, no, never, i won’t sing with him.”

ander listens carefully to your frustrations, his expression thoughtful. he understands your reluctance, having experienced the turmoil caused by Zac's friend firsthand. after a moment of silence, Ander speaks, his voice steady, "I get it, Bri. I really do. But people can change. Maybe he's realized his mistakes, and this could be a chance for redemption. Plus, desperate times call for desperate measures. It's just one show, and if he doesn't come through, we'll find another way. But what if he surprises us?"

you're hesitant, the memories of past encounters with Zac's friend clouding your judgment. Ander continues, his tone encouraging, "We won't know unless we try, right? Let's meet him, talk to him, see if he's willing to help. If he shows even a hint of sincerity, we can consider it. And if not, well, at least we'll know we explored all options."

after another hour of talking with ander, reluctantly, you agree to meet with Zac's friend, still skeptical but open to the possibility of him proving you wrong. Deep down, you hope he has indeed changed, but you wont ever forgive him.

“how do we do that? call zac.” i say.

“its late, go get some sleep and we’ll talk tomorrow, ok?” he hugs you tightly before leading you to the door. you say your goodbyes and leave.

“god its 12 am already.” you sigh and call an uber, smartass couldn’t even do it. you take off your mask, thinking of someone. you dial the person and they respond right back

“bri! hi!”

“hi! you still at work?” i ask hoping for a negative answer

“just leaving, what’s up?”

“can you pick me up from ander’s house?”

“what were you- ok we’ll talk in the car, i’ll be there soon, k?”

“thank you”

you waited for your friend to come, and she did finally, after you froze yourself outside. but it’s better than paying that expensive fucking uber.

“hi. thank you again.”

“no prob, now tell me why are you leaving ander’s house at 12 am?”

“you act like we never do music together” you giggle and look at her

“yeah but it’s late tho” she raises an eyebrow she has a point.

“we talked about someone to replace him since he’s got some flu i don’t know and he’s not feeling well.” you take a look on the window

your friend's eyes widen in understanding, her expression softening. "Oh, that sucks. Is he going to be okay?"

you nod, sighing with relief that she didn't press further. "Yeah, he'll be fine. but we're kind of in a tight spot for the upcoming show. we tried finding replacements, but it's been a disaster. Ander suggested Zac's friend, the one who messed up our first show ages ago. I'm not thrilled about it, but we're open for it.”

she raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Zac's friend? Seriously? After what he did last time? You sure about this?"

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "I'm not sure about anything at this point, but we're desperate. If he's changed, even a little, and he can play bass guitar, we might have a chance."

Your friend nods slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Well, I hope for your sake that he's gotten his act together. And if he hasn't, you'll figure something out. You always do."

Her words offer a sliver of comfort in the midst of your uncertainty. As you drive home together, you can't help but feel a mix of anxiety and determination.

“um… should i talk with zac for you?”

“what do you mean? you’re friends? since when?” you ask with a lot of curiosity

“well… we kinda.. hooked up…” she smiles as if she remembers every single detail

“WHAT??” your jaw drops in disbelief, shocked by the revelation. "you hooked up with Zac? When did this happen?"

she chuckles nervously, avoiding your gaze. "It was a while ago, he came to my club and tipped a lot, then asked for a blowjob, i said only if you give me head too and he actually did it” she laughs a bit seeing your shocked expression. “but if it helps you, I can talk to him and see if he can convince his friend to help you out."

you're torn between feeling surprised, betrayed, and oddly hopeful. "i don't know how I feel about this, but if you think he'd listen to you, maybe it's worth a shot. Just... be careful, okay? I don't want any more drama."

she nods, her expression serious. "I promise I'll handle it delicately. I'll talk to Zac and gauge his friend's interest in helping you. We'll see how it goes."

as she drives you home, you can't shake off the mix of emotions swirling inside you. you hope for the best and that he’ll agree and maybe be actually down to earth. you can’t lie you’re not nervous.

————————————————————————

next day you wake up totally in a sweat, the dream of being booed off the stage didn’t help your concerns at all, you felt like you need to talk to him as soon as possible, and hope for the best

taking your time to actually think about how to approach him to agree, but you thought he won’t ever do this for a random stranger, so you thought about avery and zac, she knew she’s make zac convince him.

“i talked to zac”

“and!?” you jump off your bed

“he said y’all should meet beforehand and he’ll see if he wants to, he wants to hear you sing too, but he doesn’t know what’s in for him, so i told zac to tell him… popularity? he’ll be on stage and be known so yeah.”

“AMAZING. GREAT.” you hug her tightly “love you, you’re the best. now where and when should we meet?”

“he said you should go at his studio later tonight. seems cool”

“sounds good to me, now what should i wear?” you look for some clothes

“you seriously think about what to wear? you don’t even know if he’s gonna agree.”

“true, true, but i have to make a good impression , i cant go in adidas sweats.

“yeah, yeah, now should i tell you i have a date with zac?”

“no way!! i’m glad, really!.”

“maybe one day even a double date with… what’s his name? jungkook?” she giggles at your expression.

“with that fucker? no. one show and its over, i get ander to sing with me and that’s all.” you shift in your place and think about ander, you gotta tell him everything.

feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, you spend the day preparing mentally and emotionally for your meeting with Zac's friend. The thought of finally finding a solution to your musical dilemma fills you with hope, but the fear of rejection lingers in the back of your mind.

“we’re here” says avery and gives you a comforting smile as you head inside.

as you step into the professional studio, a wave of inspiration washes over you. the air is thick with creativity, and the walls are adorned with soundproof panels, the room is dimly lit, the glow from the mixing console casting a warm ambiance over the space. cables snake along the floor, connecting various instruments to the mixing desk, creating a web of musical potential.

the room is a dark gray and a little black, you look around mesmerized, like you never went into a studio, you did, but not like one of those. i wonder how much he spent on all of this, or his family. you correct yourself.

in the corner of the studio, you notice a boy sitting on a stool, his fingers expertly gliding over the strings of a bass guitar. the bass guitar itself is a work of art, its body carved from rich mahogany, the natural wood grain accentuated by a glossy finish.

your thoughts are interrupted by a loud zac “hello girls, finally in jk’s crib!” he smiles widely then takes avery by her hand then places a soft kiss on her jawline, she totally blushes and i can see with the corner of my eyes how unamused jungkook is.

“hi brianna, nice to meet you.” he gives you his hand and smiles.

“you too! you shake his hand but your attention goes to the dark haired boy as he makes a sound to make us all look at him.

“you must be brianna.” he gets up and his hands fall in his huge hoodie pockets.

“yes, i am, and i’ve heard you’re jungkook?”

“you’re chinese?” avery suddenly blurtes.

“avery what the hell?” i ask embarrassed and look at his face, to see his reaction, nothing. “i’m so-“

“korean, if you really wanna know.”

avery realized her mistake and mouthed a sorry, to end the awkwardness i try to say something but he’s faster.

“so, you wanted to replace your guitarist hm?” he asks as he sits down and offers us to do the same, i sit down and take my strands of hair out of my face and fix my skirt.

Jungkook's gaze meets yours, his eyes a shade of deep brown that seems to hold a world of experiences. his tone is casual, yet there's an underlying intensity as he speaks, "yeah, I heard about your situation. mind if I give it a try?"

you nod, appreciating his straightforwardness. "absolutely.”

he picks up the bass guitar, his fingers caressing the strings with a practiced ease. As he starts playing, the studio fills with the low, resonant tones of the instrument. his skills are undeniable, and you can't help but be impressed by the way he effortlessly navigates the fretboard, creating a melody that resonates with the very soul of the song.

Avery and Zac watch in awe, clearly captivated by his performance. you find yourself drawn into the music, feeling the vibrations of the bass reverberate through the room. despite the initial awkwardness, there's a growing sense of excitement. maybe, just maybe, you've found the missing piece to your musical puzzle.

When Jungkook finishes playing, he looks at you, his expression earnest. before you can say how amazing that was, you get "now your turn.”

“i.. ok, what should i sing?” you awkwardly get up.

“you’re asking me?” he says with a confused look, sitting down where your place was.

“n-no just, ok i’ll start.” you nervously laugh and avery gives you a thumbs up making you smile.

“I’ve been posing with red skies,” you begin singing ‘Feet don’t fail me now’ by Joy Crookes, your voice shaky at first but gaining confidence as you delve deeper into the lyrics. with each word, you pour your emotions into the song, your voice resonating with the passion that fuels your music.

as you sing, Jungkook’s intense gaze never leaves you. his eyes reflect the understanding of the emotions you’re trying to convey, and it feels like he’s not just hearing the lyrics but also feeling the soul of the song. Avery and Zac, too, are entranced by your performance, nodding in appreciation as your voice weaves a story through the air.

the studio seems to fade away, leaving only the melody and the raw emotions you’re sharing. Your voice rises and falls, carrying the weight of the lyrics and the hope of a new beginning. In that moment, you’re not just singing; you’re baring your soul, connecting with the very essence of the music.

you finish and get applauses from everyone but jungkook.

“that was amazing” zac says, but don’t want his opinion, you want his friend’s. you wait, and you wait. and he opens his mouth suddenly. “cool.”

you give a confused look “cool?”

“yeah, we might work, rehearsals when i tell you i’m free and at your place.”

you’re taken aback by Jungkook's nonchalant response, but his words sink in. "sure, rehearsals at my place. we’ll work out the schedule," you reply, trying to hide your surprise.

Avery nudges you subtly, her eyes filled with excitement. after the initial tension and uncertainty, it seems like Jungkook is on board, even if his demeanor is more reserved than enthusiastic. you decide not to dwell on his reaction, choosing to focus on the opportunity ahead.

"thank you, Jungkook. we appreciate you giving us a chance," you say, mustering a smile.

he simply nods, his expression unreadable. despite the lack of exuberance, you can sense his commitment to the collaboration. with the pieces falling into place, you're eager to start rehearsals and see how this unexpected partnership will unfold.

Zac and jungkook watch you leave and zac places a hand on his shoulder

“what was that bro? you don’t know how to flirt, at least you were cool with the “at your place”

“you dumb fuck, i don’t want to flirt, i just need more recognition, that’s why i’m doing that, and i can’t here since dad comes with his artists you forgot?”

Zac raises an eyebrow, his surprise evident. "recognition ? buy you're incredibly talented, Jungkook. you’re practically a musical genius. ehh do you need more recognition? you forget your dad can put you all over the city’s billboards?”

Jungkook's gaze flickers, a mix of frustration and determination in his eyes. "it’s not about money, zac . it’s about proving myself, making my own mark without relying on my family's name. i want people to see me for who I am, not just as someone's son. and helping brianna, it's a step towards that."

Zac's expression softens, understanding dawning in his eyes. "i get it, man. we all have our struggles. just remember, we believe in you, not because of your last name, but because of your music."

Jungkook nods, appreciating zac’s support. "thanks, Zac. just hope I can live up to your expectations."

"You will," Zac says, clapping Jungkook on the back.

————————————————————————

your phone buzzes with an unknown number, and curiosity piques your interest as you answer the call. "hello? who’s this?" you inquire, your voice laced with suspicion.

"jungkook," comes the curt response from the other end of the line. shocked and unprepared, you hold back the exasperation that bubbles up within you. you didn't miss his arrogant tone, but deep down, you knew you needed him.

"yeah, Jungkook?" you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm, emphasizing the unnecessary delay in his introduction.

"meeting tonight. gotta talk about some stuff and all," he states, his tone bored, as if discussing your collaboration is a mundane chore for him.

"aren’t you gonna ask if I'm free?" you retort, refusing to let his dismissive attitude go unchallenged.

"don’t try to act busy," he says, his words carrying a mocking tone. you can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and it infuriates you. He's clearly relishing this power play.

"i’m pretty busy, actually, but tonight I'm free. Come around 7 pm," you inform him, trying to assert a semblance of control over the situation.

"9? Okay," he counters, his response catching you off guard.

"what—" you begin to protest, but he ends the call abruptly, leaving you fuming with frustration. The audacity of the man infuriates you.

puzzled and slightly unnerved, you find yourself questioning how Jungkook got hold of your number. the mystery gnaws at your thoughts, prompting you to dial Avery's number, seeking clarification.

"hey Ave, you gave Jungkook my phone number?" you ask, your voice tinged with confusion and concern.

"hey, babe, no, why?" Avery responds, her confusion mirroring your own.

"he called me about meeting tonight. Are you sure? Maybe you gave it to Zac, and Zac gave it to him?" you suggest, trying to understand.

"damrn, no, i haven't," Avery replies, her voice filled with genuine surprise. There's a brief pause before she continues, her tone taking on a mischievous edge, "That's quite weird. Oh, also..." She bursts into giggles, and you can't help but sigh in exasperation.

"tonight at yours, huh?" she teases, her laughter spilling through the phone.

"gosh, stop, I'm hanging up," you grumble, rolling your eyes at her antics.

"no, wait! But something important!" she insists, her tone turning serious for a moment.

"what?" you ask, unable to resist the curiosity despite your annoyance.

"wear protection!" she says, her laughter bubbling up again, and you can't help but groan at her audacity.

"bye," you retort, deciding it's best to end the call before she can come up with any more embarrassing suggestions. Hanging up, you're left with a mix of confusion, irritation, and a reluctant smile at Avery's playful antics. As you prepare for the evening's meeting, you can't shake the feeling that dealing with Jungkook will be far more complicated than you initially anticipated.

——-

a/n : part 1!! i cant believe i finally posted this. i wanted to make it as one part but it was sooo long.

i hope you enjoyed it! also if you might find grammar errors its because english isnt my first language!

(any recs and tips are gladly taken since im new to tumblr!)

#bts jk #jungkook #jk #jeongguk #jk x reader #jk x you #jeon jk #jeon jungkook #jungkook and reader #jungkook x oc #taehyung #bts jungkook #bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader

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connieluvsr · 7 months

Text

dextrocardia | 08

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, smut

word count: 6.3k

warnings: a lot of talk about assault of different kinds (sexual included), harrassment, sexism, there's blood and very serious injuries, trauma heavy. if you feel very bothered reading stuff like that, please skip this <3

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 8/?

“Answer me. You’re a double agent?!”

You’re too terrified to be embarrassed by the way you’re trembling, sitting on the floor in your pair of black cotton shorts and gray t-shirt, pressing your back against the wall furthest from the door. Not that nor the tears that start to wet your lashes and soon enough roll down your cheeks.

Despite not being too surprised, you’re obviously not any less scared.

“Please don’t,” you beg, your vision starting to become blurry from tears, “you don’t have to do this. Please, Jeongguk.”

You focus on the silhouette of him, the dark blue dress shirt and black pants. “I know what I did was wrong, I know, but I didn’t know what else to do. He was pressing t–too hard, and I couldn’t breathe.”

Tears and fear block your throat, and your heart beats a thousand beats a minute, but you try your best to get the words out, try to convince him even though you know it’s a lost cause.

“I know I’m not im–important or pretty, but I didn’t want to die. What was I supposed to do? My hand slipped out, and I–I just reached for his g–gun.”

Wiping the tears with your wrist, you see how he changes tactics, the way Jeongguk’s eyes have gone from furious to looking worried. How he’s put on his acting face.

“What… what are you talking about?” he asks, voice void of any anger as he takes another step toward you. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice or scare you, I’m sorry, but what… are you talking about?”

Quickly reaching for the razor blade in your bra, you accidentally cut your finger when you remove the blade from its case. Blood drips down your hand as you raise it in a pathetic warning.

“Don’t come any closer,” you try to sound confident, but maybe it is a bit embarrassing how your voice shakes and your hand is so unsteady that you have to support it with the other. “Please, just let me go, Jeongguk? I’m pulling the report, and I’ve apologized. If you let me go, I’ll disappear tonight, okay? You won’t ever have to see me again.”

Your gaze is drawn to the knife still gripped by his veiny hand, and so is his. A second later, he tosses the knife to the other side of the room where it hits the floor with a clinking sound and looks to bounce underneath the bed, closer to you than him, as if he wouldn’t still be able to reach it before you.

“What… report?” he asks, sinking down to one knee, still only a few steps into the room. “What are you talking about?”

But you’re not fooled by those pretty eyes, and it frustrates you how he thinks he can look at you softly and have you forget everything. It lives permanently in the back of your mind. The threats, the attempts, the fear, and now ultimately, the defeat.

“Stop pretending, Jeongguk,” you plead, sniffling. “We both know what this is. If you’re going to do it, just… get it over with. Please. Don’t play with me like this.”

Like he’s thinking hard, maybe even realizing something, his eyes lose focus, and he stands up.

“You’re talking about Hoseong, aren’t you?”

You’re quiet—well, as quiet as a crying, pathetic mess can be—when he looks down at you. You’re not sure what it is that he’s hoping for, if it’s for you to lower your guard and vulnerably crawl into his arms or if he’s deliberately trying to provoke you to get a reaction that he can answer. You meet his eyes with your razor blade slowly lowered, and he waits for something, his eyes searching yours for answers he already knows. But you can’t give them, and he backs out of the room with you still trembling on the floor.

Raindrops smatter against the windshield as Jeongguk drives toward the city.

His phone dings with a text, and he raises it, reading the preview.

He sets his course toward a more specific goal. A bar.

It’s long since dark when he steps out of the car, locking it behind him and looking around. It took him around forty-five minutes to reach the well known destination, and he spent them all in silence, his thoughts loud enough.

The wet pavement reflects light from the streetlights and a few neon signs, and Jeongguk walks with determined steps up to the door and pushes it open, placing the car keys into his breast pocket for easy access.

Inside, it’s busy as usual. People are sitting in booths or on bar stools around round tables or the bar itself, and they’re laughing, chatting loudly and singing along to the music.

Not long after entering, Jeongguk spots them. His friends. There’s three of them, sitting around a circular table.

“JK, hey!” Seunghwan calls, alcohol evident in his flushed cheeks.

Jeongguk nods in a neutral greeting, coming to stand before their table. Hoseong tips his bottle of beer slightly to the side, looking at him curiously.

“Thought you were shipped out? How’s it going?” he speaks loudly over the music. “Can’t believe you got her to apologize, man,” he grins, leaning back.

“Had to ask you a few things,” Jeongguk answers at the same volume, finding it harder than he thought to keep his emotions at bay, “about her, actually.”

Hoseong and Ryung both raise their eyebrows, but Jeongguk continues. “I want to know what happened that night. When you got shot.”

Although looking surprised, Hoseong still lets a smile pull on his lips. “Well, I fucked her. You know that, and she got pissed because I wasn’t interested in being her boyfriend.”

Seunghwan chuckles, but Jeongguk doesn’t find it funny.

“You ‘fucked her?’” he repeats. He knew that, but this time, he’s looking at the situation in a new light.

“Yeah, I fucked her,” Hoseong shrugs, toning it down just a tad, like he’s suspecting where Jeongguk is taking the conversation.

“Well, did she want you to ‘fuck her?’ Did she threaten you with the gun because you turned her down, and you were shot by accident?” Jeongguk stares at the person he thought was his friend. “Or was it intentional?”

For about two seconds, Hoseong just looks at Jeongguk like he’s… assessing something, and Jeongguk isn’t sure how the man in front of him will react.

But he leans back again, rolling his eyes lightheartedly. “Oh, come on, man, don’t be like that. You know how women are these days, they want to be tied up and fucked, but when you don’t want her to call you ‘sweetie pie’ and hold hands, they scream ‘rape.’”

Jeongguk holds his breath for a second, trying to keep his cool. He looks around at the unsuspecting environment. “Let’s talk outside, I can barely hear you in here.”

Before he turns on his heel, heading back toward the exit, he sees Hoseong stand from the barstool nonchalantly.

It doesn’t rain anymore, and the outside air is a lot colder than the sweaty atmosphere inside. Somehow, the difference in sound level makes the situation all that more real. Jeongguk walks away from the entrance to give them some privacy, not to be nice but to maximize his chances of getting the entire story.

“You forced yourself on her, didn’t you?” he turns around, putting his clenched fists in his pockets. Hoseong and Ryung followed, but Seunghwan stayed behind. “You tied her up in the hotel room you were staked out in for that case, and you raped her. She got free and shot you in self-defense. Am I getting close?”

“You’re overreacting, dude. You know she was in love with me, right?”

Jeongguk feels his anger and frustration grow, but he tries to keep calm. “I knew that she loved you, yes, but it doesn’t mean she automatically wanted to sleep with you. She filed a report too, didn’t she? What happened with that?”

Hoseong shrugs indifferently, and it’s unclear if he doesn’t know or doesn’t care. Or maybe he just doesn’t want Jeongguk to know. Jeongguk shakes his head in disbelief and turns around. He needs to leave before he does something stupid.

Ryung calls his name, but Jeongguk is already walking back to the car briskly. He gets into the driver’s seat, slams the door shut, and starts the car, and when he glances back in the rearview mirror, he sees the people he thought he knew standing close together, talking. They’re looking his way.

The drive back is tortuous and slow. Jeongguk navigates back out of the city with ease, but then he’s stuck on the freeway with nothing and no one else but himself and his thoughts. He’s been living a lie ever since he started his current job, and slowly but surely, his brain puts all the pieces together. The pieces he has—some, he’s certainly still missing.

In a fit of rage and despair, he gives the steering wheel three harsh and undeserved hits with his palm, the horn blaring each time.

“Oh, God,” he whispers, shutting his eyes for a microsecond. What has he done? What has he done, what the fuck has he done?

He bites his lip, reaching for the phone he threw onto the passenger side, his eyes alternating between the road and Google, where he’s searching for a phone number.

Your limbs are frozen and your senses both feel like they’re hyper tuned to your surroundings and numb all at once. You don’t know when Jeongguk left–actually, you’re not even certain that he did leave. Sure, you heard the door close and the car drive off, but he could’ve parked it a few houses down and snuck back inside somehow, waiting somewhere in the dark for you to lower your guard. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hear Fenrir bark, but all you can focus on is that dark doorway.

Then, you hear sounds. A car door, then the front door. Fenrir stops barking, and your worry grows. Then, there are steps, and someone is coming for you. Is it Jeongguk? Or did he leave you to one of his friends? Is it Hoseong? Unable to stop them, tears start to flow again. You promised yourself you’d meet your end with at least a bit of dignity, but you’re not that brave, evidently.

It’s Jeongguk who appears in the doorway, his hair and clothes slightly wet. You look behind him, waiting for the rest of his colleagues to come into view, but they don’t.

“Hey,” he greets quietly, looking like he’s trying to appear non-threatening, but you remember hearing him promise his friends to put you in your place, show you that it’s a man’s world you’re living in.

Put an end to it. He’s certainly tried before.

You press yourself impossibly closer to the wall as he takes another step into the room. You’ve cheated death four times–that you know of–but you won’t be able to this time.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”

It doesn’t matter that his brown eyes look kind and soft, they’re not, and he doesn’t care for you. He thinks you’re ugly, doesn’t think anyone could ever want or love you. He only cares about him, his friends, and their pride. He thinks that you should’ve died that night, and he made you apologize for surviving.

Now he’s just playing with his food.

“Stop, don’t come any closer. I’m warning you,” you panic, raising the blade again.

Jeongguk stops, and his eyes land on your other hand, on the nick in the skin of your ring finger. “You’re still bleeding.”

He takes another slow step, and another. You keep your terrified eyes on him, but you’re sure he can tell that with every step of his, your trembling worsens.

“Please stop playing this game with me,” you plead, tears rolling down your cheeks. He won, they all did, can’t he just put you out of your misery?

“I’m not playing. Here, let me look at your finger.”

He’s so close now that he sinks to one knee and holds his hand out. You’re still gripping the razor blade, but he obviously doesn’t think you’ll actually cut him. You don’t make any move to let him see the hand you’ve put in your lap, so as slow as he can, Jeongguk reaches for it, himself.

You don’t have the courage to fight him. Logically, you know it’s your skin that’s freezing cold, probably due to shock, but his skin is burning against you when he grabs your hand. He must feel every little tremble as well. You shut your eyes. It helps not seeing him, but you still smell him, feel him around you.

“I can’t hurt you. You knew that,” your shaky mess of a voice states your discovery quietly.

Just… any second now. A blow to your head, or a knife to your throat. You made a breakthrough in the case, so he doesn’t need you anymore. He’s going to end your life, plant whatever weapon he uses at the Jung’s, and frame them for your murder. An undercover mission gone wrong–they found out about your real identities and killed you. Jeongguk escaped, and he gets the glory of clearing the case and putting the bank robbers and subsequent murderers behind bars. Not to mention the relief of knowing you’ll take the truth to the grave, and the new chief, whoever they are, will be none the wiser.

“Where’s Fenrir? What did you do to him?” you whisper, breathing becoming more difficult by the second as you’re imagining all the ways he could kill you.

Surprisingly, Jeongguk lets go of your hand and stands up, backing a few steps. You chance a glance at him and see that he looks worried–there’s a crease in his forehead and his eyes are wide.

“I haven’t done anything to him. He’s in the backyard.”

So he’s dead then. You don’t comment on it, instead you shut your eyes as another wave of tears runs down your cheeks. Like before, the rate at which you’re breathing increases, and you feel lightheaded, even as you’re sitting down.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” he mumbles, and the sound of movement has you peeking in fear. “Just… hold on.”

For some reason, he’s backing out of the room, leaving you once again in the limbo of not knowing what he’s planning. The rain beats harshly against the roof, and the sound of thunder makes you jump. You hate storms, nothing good ever happens during them.

You feel yourself going insane, waiting for him, but he’s not gone for long this time. Do you prefer him in the room with you? At least then you know where he is and what he’s doing. It makes you anxious, not knowing. Maybe he’s pouring gasoline over the furniture, waiting to light a match?

Surprisingly, you watch as he returns to round the bed–away from you–and approaches the dresser. He rummages through the top drawer, searching for something, until he finds it and turns around.

It’s when you see him, rounding the bed again–towards you–with the handcuffs in hand that you scramble back along the wall and into the corner. You remember how he teased you about it, arrogantly offering to tie you up, cuff you to the bed. If he’s planning on resuming what Hoseong started…

Noticing your distress, Jeongguk’s eyes grow wider, and he stops and stands in front of the bed with his hands raised.

“Oh, no, no, they’re not for you,” he explains, looking at you, sitting terrified in the corner. His eyes move from you to the silvery cuffs dangling from his hand and back again. “He cuffed you, didn’t he? Hoseong?”

You’re not sure where he’s going with it, but your guess has evolved. He wants to act sweet and like he cares so that you’ll give in and he can do whatever he wants to punish you, gloating about how he managed to trick you. The dumb feminazi falling for it and thinking he cares for her.

“Look.”

You do, watching anxiously as he opens one side of the handcuffs and locks it around his wrist. The other side, he closes around the metal bed frame, leaving about two yards between you. He sits down and throws the key, which lands at your feet.

“I can’t hurt you.”

You don’t think about the fact that even if the bed probably weighs a ton, Jeongguk could surely pull it with him if he wanted to reach you. No, you don’t know what you’re thinking about, if anything, you’re just so overwhelmed and scared and relieved that you barely have time to reach for the empty, gray plant pot before you’re throwing up. It’s just bile, proof that it’s been a while since you’ve eaten anything.

Another thing you haven’t done is sleep. And for your poor, terrified, starved, and sleep-deprived body, it’s too much. As carefully as you can when the room is spinning, and someone is speaking in the background, you lie down, your cheek against the cold floor, and you pass out.

You’re still absolutely exhausted when you come to. It takes a while for your eyes to even open, and you can guess what a mess you must look like. Your head is pounding, surely from dehydration, and your entire body aches. At least some parts of you don’t feel that cold anymore–someone has thrown a duvet from the bed over you, covering your body pretty well except for your left foot and your right shoulder. You’re not trembling anymore, not even as your eyes find Jeongguk.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but he’s still sitting there, across from you with his wrist cuffed to the bed. He’s moved the bedside table away in order to lean his back against the wall. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet–after all, you haven’t moved–and he keeps his eyes on his right hand that he rests atop his knees, his feet flat against the floor.

You can’t help but think that he looks like he’s waiting patiently for something, maybe the train, worried that it might be late but understanding that there’s no use in pacing. As you observe him tiredly, you notice something very faintly, so faintly you’re not sure if you’re imagining it. It almost looks as if his eyes are puffier than usual, maybe just a tad bit red too. Like how people look when they were crying a long time ago. Now that you think about it, his hair looks a little messier than usual, and he’s unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt, as well as the sleeves that he’s rolled up a tad.

A chill runs through your body, and slowly, you pull the duvet closer around your body, notifying Jeongguk of your consciousness.

“Are we waiting for your friends?” your voice is so strained, it comes out as a whisper.

He looks at you, smiling the saddest little smile you’ve ever seen on anyone, and he shakes his head. “No, I called Jihyo, and she’s on her way to pick you up. It’ll take her a while to get here but she’s on her way.”

You narrow your tired eyes slightly. He’s lying.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he apologizes gently. “If I had, I wouldn’t…”

It’s the way he looks bothered that almost has you believing him. But you know just how good of an actor he is. He has despised you ever since he arrived at the district, commented on you and your body with disgust. Yet, you’ve seen how he’s capable of holding your hand in his, kissing you gently and like he means it. Only to go back to insulting you.

“Everyone knows,” you state quietly, calling his bluff.

“I didn’t. And I’d never dream of hurting you, I promise.”

“You hate me more than anyone, Jeongguk.”

It really is true. Jeongguk obviously feels immense loyalty to his friends, and he’d do anything for them. He’s been one of the most vocal ones, letting everyone know just what a terrible, disgusting, worthless person you are.

“And I’ve gotten to know you pretty well since you transferred, especially here. You can say how sorry you are and how you didn’t know all you want, but I know you’re lying. I hurt your friend and now, with the chief retiring, I’m a threat. What would happen if the new chief is a woman and our station’s little secret gets out? Pretty unlikely, but not impossible, right?”

You swallow, blinking away tears. “You can lie all you want but we both know I was never going to make it back home.”

There’s something that looks like pain in his brown eyes as he watches you.

“I don’t hate you. I thought I did because–fuck–I thought the chief was protecting you by not dealing with the problem, not that he was protecting him. Us.”

His frustration turns into something reminding you of guilt when he continues. “You have no idea how sorry I am. And I can promise you, it’s never occurred to me to hurt you. Not physically, at least. I know I’ve been a dick to you–which is obviously coming back to bite me now–and I wanted to make you feel bad for what I thought you did, but I’d never want to injure you. No one has any plans on doing so.”

His words make you chuckle even though it’s not fun in the least.

“What?” he looks confused.

“Do you think I’m stupid? Not only have I found the trackers you’ve put on my car, but you’ve tampered with the brakes on it three times in the last months. My mechanic keeps bugging me about filing a report, saying I shouldn’t drive any car for my own safety. How do I explain to her that I can’t exactly go to the police?”

Jeongguk only stares at you, and it makes you all the more frustrated.

“Obviously, I can’t say exactly which one of you is doing it, or who it is standing across the street from my home, just watching, late at night sometimes. Or whose breathing it is on the phone calls. Do you remember like three months ago when I made the mistake of getting coffee and stopping by the printer, leaving my mug unsupervised for three minutes? Who was it that put the fucking cyanide in it? You can tell them that it left a bit of suspiciously chunky foam on the surface.”

“Cyanide?”

“Yeah. Had it tested. You can also tell whoever it is that keeps throwing poisoned meat into my yard that I always check it before letting Fenrir out.”

Jeongguk is quiet, looking like someone just turned his world upside down.

“You really meant it when you said you thought I’d poison your food if you let me cook. That’s why you barely sleep too, right? You’re scared I’m going to hurt you. You brought the razor blades and the dog for me, didn’t you? You’re more scared of me than of the suspects.”

“Why on earth do you think I have a trained personal protection Doberman to begin with?”

Jeongguk puts his face in his free hand, “Fuck, I’m so stupid. I had no idea.”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly, closing your eyes for a second. You know Jeongguk is only playing with you because there’s just no chance he’s gone so long being besties with a rapist and attempted murderer without knowing. Partaking in harassment without knowing the reason why? No, no way. But does it matter at the moment? No, probably not.

“Why did you agree to come here?” he asks, sounding almost… helpless? “If you thought it was a setup?”

“Well,” you start, pain spreading through your exhausted body. Your lips pull into a small, sad smile. “I can’t exactly decline anything at work or I won’t have a job to go to. With the kind of letter of recommendation the chief would leave me, no one else would hire me. Besides, we both know I wouldn’t be safe just by quitting.”

The smile fades, and a tear escapes the corner of your eyes, dropping toward the floor. “And frankly… I can’t do it anymore. It’s been two years, and it only escalates. I don’t have the energy to always look over my shoulder, or lock and barricade my doors and windows at night. I can’t afford to have my car fixed every or every other month, and one day, I’ll miss something, or you’ll go after my mother. It’s just a matter of time.”

“So you… came here, convinced that… I was going to kill you?”

Slowly, you move a hand to your face, wiping the tear away. “Yeah. I mean, I always hoped things wouldn’t end up this way. Or that, at least I could defend myself from… prolonged pain. But at the same time, I knew nothing would change. And I… I promised myself that I’d try my best to be brave and not fight it cause it’s going to happen sooner or later, but… well, I’m evidently not very brave. I’m a coward, coming here to die but still fighting it and begging you to spare my life.”

Then again, the last couple of days have made you doubt yourself. If Jeongguk came after you with a knife, could you… hurt him? With Hoseong, it was a no-brainer, and you fought for your life on pure instinct, only making a conscious effort not to shoot him where he wouldn’t survive it.

But Jeongguk? He hates your guts, finds you disgusting, and is a man like them all. But as you look at him now, you see the way he held baby Doyun’s hand at the barbeque, and you see him playing and cuddling with Fenrir when no one’s looking. You remember the feeling of his hair between your fingers as he rests his head in your lap, and his gentle hands around your waist. You walked into the trap, and you got trapped. You couldn’t hurt him.

“So, I’m essentially your… terminal illness,” he speaks, looking at you sadly. Your eyes widen. “Eunha told me; said she wanted me to take care of my wife. But you’re not sick, are you?”

“No.”

“Fuck,” he shuts his eyes tightly before opening them and looking straight at you with a pained look, “I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve never regretted anything more in my entire life. I thought I was doing the right thing, but instead, I–fuck, I made you apologize? For–”

He hides his face in his free hand again. “I am so sorry.”

It’s hard not to believe him when he looks and sounds so genuine, but you’ve experienced his talent before. Not only that, but he’s a man–he’s not capable of caring for you.

“You said you called Jihyo?” you speak, ignoring his fake apology.

He removes his hand from his face and nods. “Yeah, she should be here in an hour or so, I think.”

“Okay, say you actually did, why would you? She’d bring unwanted attention and risk unnecessary suspicion. Or maybe you’re just trying to kill two birds with one stone, literally?”

Jeongguk’s face remains soft even as you’re practically insulting him.

“I called her to pick you up because you trust her, and this is no place for you to be right now.”

“But you’re risking the mission. We’ve got a breakthrough but it isn’t all the way through yet, and the bugs still have almost a week’s worth of battery life left. The last thing you want is for them to become suspicious and search for the bugs.”

You don’t know why you’re so intent on letting him know just how thoroughly you see through him. Perhaps you’re simply so used to always having to prove yourself, your capacity and intelligence around men that you can’t let him think you’re nothing more than a dumb girl. You saw through everything, and he needs to know that.

“You think I give a fuck about the mission when I literally just saw you throw up because you’re so scared of me? I’ve handcuffed myself to the bed, but you’re still shaking in the corner, looking terrified.”

At his words, you realize he’s right. You didn��t even notice the return of the tremors, and they’re not because you’re cold underneath the duvet. Thunder sounds again.

“I promise you,” he starts, looking into your eyes with what looks like a determined sort of kindness, “I’ll do my very best to make things right.”

You wouldn’t have known what to say even if you weren’t interrupted by the sound of a car. Worried but still relieved to finally see Jihyo, you carefully sit up, and then you stand, feeling weak but almost… hopeful. Maybe you’ll get out alive, after all?

But that hope is soon replaced by an ice cold chill running down your spine and filling your stomach as you peer out through the window and onto the cars that have stopped below. It’s not Jihyo.

You take a step back from the window right as at least two men are exiting the cars, one holding an aluminum baseball bat.

“You… you called… your friends,” you state quietly, feeling dumb for not foreseeing it. He was stalling, and you fell for it. “You’ll be taking turns until I…”

Jeongguk says something, a few rushed sentences, but you’re already exiting the room, not entirely sure why or what your plan is. The sound of his handcuffs rustling against the bed frame sounds as you’re descending the stairs onto the dark bottom floor.

Should you try to find a way out? Is there one? Jeongguk is stuck upstairs, but you stand no chance against even one man in your current state. Not to mention that you’re unarmed. Where’d Jeongguk’s knife go? Your razor blade? Last you remember, you had it before you passed out.

You’re so in your thoughts that you don’t hear the footsteps closing in on you from behind.

“I confronted them, and I guess they’re mad. We’ll go out back, okay?” a familiar voice speaks quietly right above your ear, making you jump. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, just come with me.”

You turn around, meeting Jeongguk’s eyes. He holds his hand out, no trace of the cuffs. How did he get free?

“I saw them from the window, and there’s four of them. They’re surely armed with more than just the baseball bat, but we might manage to sneak out through the back if we hurry.”

You look at his hand in the darkness.

“Trust me,” he encourages gently, “I’ve got you.”

For some odd reason, you meet his honest-looking but also worried and stressed eyes. And you put your hand in his. It’s warm, and he starts to pull you with him towards the back door.

However, stopping you in your tracks, one of the kitchen windows has been left open, and hushed voices sound through the crack.

“Absolutely no shots, okay? In and out, basically.”

Well, you guess that’s a good thing? You and Jeongguk exchange glances, and he mumbles something about his own gun being in the car. You’re just about to continue when the front door is unlocked. They have a key? Fuck, they must’ve gone to the station in search of the address and key before coming here.

The door glides open, and in steps Hoseong. And then Ryung with Seunghwan in tow. The last person inside is Junseo.

Hoseong stops when he spots you, a smile breaking out on his lips. “Well…”

“Leave,” Jeongguk orders, pulling you behind his body. A thousand thoughts are swirling around in your head, but you’re none the wiser. Any minute now, Jeongguk could start laughing at how you thought he’d protect you. Or, he could be genuine, but what sucks about that scenario is that there’s no way Jeongguk could take them all. Four against one.

“We can’t. Look, I thought we got each other, Jeongguk? Bros before hoes and all that? Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems like you might be causing us some trouble?”

Peeking from behind Jeongguk, you’re really not a fan of how Hoseong twists the bat in his hand, and your heart is freaking out.

“Technically, you caused the trouble all by yourself,” Jeongguk argues, visibly furious.

Then, before you know it, Hoseong lunges, and Jeongguk pushes you back, out of the way before he’s dodging too. Your heart is in your throat as you watch Hoseong swing at Jeongguk multiple times, Jeongguk dodging all of them before finding an opening and delivering a swift blow to Hosoeng’s head. Behind them, you spot Ryung’s dark eyes locking onto you, and you gulp.

All while Jeongguk somehow manages to grab the bat–which is good considering he’s fighting both Hoseong and Seonghwan–Ryung waits for his opening. Junseo, you don’t even know where he went.

Ryung’s chance comes when Jeongguk aims a powerful kick at Hoseong’s side, sending him flying into the kitchen table and knocking two of the chairs over and Jeongguk to the floor. Hoseong wheezes, like he got the wind knocked out of him.

Ryung decides to take the opportunity, setting off for you, but before he can reach you, he’s intercepted, Jeongguk’s wide shoulders knocking him off his path and into the fridge. While he gets back up, Jeongguk bashes Seunghwan’s head against the countertop once, and he falls down, groaning in pain. Jeongguk is about to follow, but Ryung grabs his shoulders, and manages to get Jeongguk on the ground and climb on top of him.

You watch as Jeongguk swings the bat, Ryung catching it, but as his hands are preoccupied with it, Jeongguk uses all his strength and connects his fist with Ryung’s face so hard that you hear things crack and see blood spurt. As a result, Ryung falls off and to the floor, lying on his side.

It’s at that moment you spot Junseo. He’s at Hoseong’s side–Hoseong who’s just gotten up–and is giving him something. Hoseong’s sinister and angry eyes find yours as he accepts the samurai sword.

Then, he’s running.

It doesn’t take more than a split second for you to decide. You shut your eyes, preparing for the pain and the force that will surely knock you over. The force comes first, but there’s no pain, at least not for a while. It’s like Hoseong is… hugging you?

Surprised, you open your eyes, only to see that the person holding you in their arms is not Hoseong. It’s Jeongguk. Then, you become aware of the pain, a sort of… uncomfortable pin prick to your chest, only bigger?

You look down between your bodies. There’s a hole in your t-shirt and you’re pretty sure the wetness on your skin is blood. What happened?

Jeongguk coughs above you, and that’s when you see that the tip of the sword that’s digging into your skin is coming out of his chest.

Even in your shocked state, you recognize the shape of the item he’s shakily stuffing into your hand. The car key.

“You need to…” he starts, his voice strained. He stumbles, and you see blood coloring his bottom lip. “...Get out of here.”

Suddenly, he groans loudly, and you feel the sword scratch your skin before Jeongguk is sinking to his knees. Behind him, Hoseong is twisting the handle roughly. Then, he lets go, letting Jeongguk’s body fall limply to the floor.

“See what you made me do?” Hoseong hisses at you, stepping over Jeongguk.

He’s caught off guard when you kick him, aiming your foot for the exact spot in which you shot him two years ago. He stumbles, his knee hitting the floor, but then he surprises you by grabbing your foot, and you fall, hitting your head against the floor. You groan in pain, lying flat on your back and seeing Hoseong stand up above you.

But before he can end you, there are gunshots.

You’re not looking, but you hear Hoseong shout in pain, then a lot of shuffling and two other male voices you can’t quite place.

All that you’re seeing is Jeongguk. He lies beside you, on his stomach, the long samurai sword he hung on that wall himself sticking out from his back. There’s blood, a lot of it. Some from his mouth and more from his chest and his back. You don’t need to examine him more to know that he’s already dead, that sword went straight through his heart with no chance of missing it, and there’s no surviving that.

A face comes into view above you, and it takes your pounding head a good second to recognize it. Yoongi.

He meets your teary yet defeated eyes, and you open your mouth. “He’s dead.”

It’s both a question and a quiet statement, the side of your hand touching the side of Jeongguk’s. His eyes are closed, his face blank and void of any life, and you feel empty inside.

Through blurry tears, you see Yoongi look Jeongguk over. Then, gently and with a sad crease between his eyebrows, he nods. Abandoning Jeongguk’s lifeless body, he instead focuses on you. He tries to keep you awake, but something wet and warm pools underneath your own head, and soon enough, you can’t keep your eyes open any longer.

hey pals... let me know what you think RIP <3

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connieluvsr · 7 months

Text

dextrocardia | 07

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, smut

word count: 5k

warnings: feelings and weird men lol also, is jk an ass or not? the eternal question

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 7/?

At your words, Jeongguk rolls over to look up at you. You bite your lip—feeling more nervous with his eyes on you—and place your hands on the fabric of the hammock at each side of your body.

“I really did. I know you think it’s funny, calling me pathetic and such, but I did. Hoseong was a role model to me, and I was so excited to be allowed to work with him. He was funny, and he paid attention to me. He was the best detective, and I wanted to be just like him, and I…”

Jeongguk watches you speak, surely noticing that it’s not the easiest thing to do for you, opening up.

“...I loved him.”

He looks understanding, and you hope that maybe this is it.

“Have you thought about apologizing for what you did?”

You feel the air slowly get sucked out of your lungs. “A–apologizing?”

“Yeah? I mean, what you did could be described as the worst overreaction in history. That bullet could’ve seriously injured him, ended his career, given him permanent damage, even killed him if it had hit an artery.”

He’s sounding more and more serious, more and more irritated at you.

“Jeongguk, I didn’t mean to hurt him, it wasn’t what I wanted, but what was I supposed to do?”

He sits up, and he’s already so much taller than you. “Not wave a gun in his face because you didn’t want the same things? You don’t always get what you want and sometimes you just have to suck it up and move on.”

Speechless, you gaze up at him. You feel smaller, as if you’re shrinking. “‘Suck it up?’”

“I think you’d feel a lot better if you just apologized. Everyone would feel better, and you wouldn’t be so disliked at the station.”

You watch him as he rises to his feet, holding his hand out for you. He seems almost hopeful.

“I—I can’t,” you speak quietly, begging him with your eyes.

He doesn’t care, just looks at you with some kind of smile, and so you still put your hand in his because in some way, you… you don’t know. What is it even that you’re fighting for at this point, and is it worth it?

With your hand in his, he leads you through the door and into the kitchen. One chair is pulled out for you and one for him, and he retrieves his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants. Fenrir, who spent the past two hours sleeping on the cool kitchen floor, wanders to your side.

Jeongguk sits down as he dials a number, but you remain standing next to the table, feeling the most unsure you’ve probably ever felt.

“Come on, sit down,” he gestures to the chair. “I’ll call him and put him on speaker. Just apologize, I promise it will feel better.”

He smiles.

You place your hand on the back of the chair, but you make no move to sit down. “You think that I should…? …Apologize?”

“Yeah, just do it, it’ll be so much easier. He’ll really appreciate it, I know he will.”

The signals almost echo through the room, and you’re drowning in a hollow sea. You thought you were maybe beginning to get to know Jeongguk, but it turns out that you already knew him. You’re disappointed in yourself, regretting that you didn’t remember when he showed you who he was. You guess it’s only fair that you’re reminded.

“Hello?”

“Hey, man,” Jeongguk greets excitedly. After all, it’s his best friend.

The other voice, one you know very well, sounds again, “Hey, what’s up?”

“I have someone here with me who would like to say something to you,” he grins, meeting your distraught eyes.

“Huh?” Hoseong questions, sounding confused.

Jeongguk lets silence set, and when you search his eyes, he nods encouragingly.

“Uhm, it’s me…” you start, voice weak and quiet even if you try your best to speak up. “I’m… I just wanted to say that I’m, uh… I’m sorry.”

Hoseong chuckles on the other end of the line, “Are you?”

You gulp, looking down at your fingers. “Yeah. I’m sorry I hurt you. I–I shouldn’t have, I get that now. I should’ve respected your wishes even if I didn’t want to. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” he responds, sounding happy and satisfied with your apology. “I appreciate it.”

Jeongguk moves the phone closer to himself, smiling. “Good, well, Hoseong, we shouldn’t really talk right now, I just wanted to get this out of the way once and for all.”

You zone out, not registering what exact words they use to say goodbye. Instead, your attention lies on Jeongguk’s face. You’re nothing to him. Dust has more value. You’re nothing, and it’s so blatant that he doesn’t care.

Soon enough, Jeongguk rises from the chair, his eyes on you. You don’t move for a while, not sure where to go from there.

“Doesn’t it feel better now?”

He looks down at you from the other side of the table, like he did you a favor.

In return, you shake your head slightly, pressing your lips together. “No, not really.”

“Well, you did the right thing.”

He smiles again, like you’re supposed to feel encouraged.

“I guess I’ve always known you,” you mumble, slowly turning to leave the kitchen.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you hear him question, confused, but you don’t stop to elaborate. He knows, anyway.

The rest of the evening passes slowly. Jeongguk is somewhere downstairs, and you’re hiding out in the bedroom. Hiding and hiding, you just want time to yourself. As you do a bit of cleaning, Fenrir snoozing on the bed, you long to talk to someone who understands you. Your phone lies heavy in the pocket of the sweatpants you changed into, but you don’t call anyone. Neither Jihyo nor Sana even knows about this operation, and you don’t want to burden them, especially late in the evening like this.

Your mind is disconnected from your body, empty, and you watch your hands change the bedsheets and fluff the pillows.

In what could be described as the story of your life, your state of mind varies between anxious and indifferent, especially when Jeongguk comes to join you in bed. You don’t say anything to him, and you can tell he’s thinking you're making a big deal out of nothing, he’s made that very clear. There’s no energy left in you to be angry at him, that ran out a long time ago. You’re just disappointed and hurt, you guess.

Lying in bed in the dark, you think about the man next to you, who’s actually a very straightforward person. He’ll probably answer your questions if you just ask the right ones, but you guess that’s the problem—you can’t say the words.

“Sometimes you have to be the bigger person,” he breaks the silence quietly from behind you. “Or just accept that you were wrong. You have to take a step back and look at the bigger picture, not everything revolves around you and your feelings. It’s not always a loss to let the other person ‘win.’”

A quiet “okay” leaves you, and you feel Fenrir rest his head on your ankle. It’s easy to say when no one’s ever winning over him.

You think Jeongguk falls asleep not long after, but his words fall into your little picnic basket of heavy sentences, and when you can’t sleep, replaying all of them over and over, the handle finally breaks.

With glassy eyes, you sit up, looking back to see both Jeongguk and Fenrir fast asleep. As quickly as you can without waking either of them, you leave the bed, opening the bedroom door and heading down the stairs. You’ve held so much inside you for too long, and now it’s fighting its way out, tears already wetting your lashes when you step outside.

It’s four a.m., and the world is quiet. It’s also too cold for the white tank top and black shorts you’re wearing, but you don’t make any effort to go back inside to get more clothes, simply sitting down on the cold porch stairs instead.

Goosebumps cover your skin, and you hug your knees, probably looking as insignificant as you feel.

“Hey, are you… okay?”

You look up, your pulse spiking and your breath getting stuck in your throat.

Hoseok. He stands before you, and you’re not sure how you didn’t notice him walking over.

Snapping out of it best you can, you nod, wiping your tears with a small smile. “Yeah, I just… couldn’t sleep.”

Your mind races. Did you fuck everything up now? Has he come to confront you about the broken window? Did they find a bug? You know from what you overheard him say that the cameras were off, but maybe someone saw you and tipped him off?

You’re entirely certain that even if they weren’t suspicious of you before, they for sure will be now. You’re fucked, you don’t even have your razor blades, and Fenrir’s asleep upstairs.

“Can I…?” he asks, gesturing to the spot next to you.

“Sure,” you nod, hoping he won’t get too comfortable.

“I have a hard time sleeping too sometimes.”

You turn to really look at him, and as you do, you notice that, although you don’t share the style, he’s also definitely in his sleep attire. He wears a brown t-shirt and shorts, quite a bit longer than yours. And his dark hair is messy, like he’s been tossing and turning for a while before coming outside.

Another wave of tears hit you, and feeling like the timing couldn’t possibly be worse makes it all that much worse.

Frantically, you wipe your tears.

“He hasn’t… hurt you, has he?” Hoseok asks quietly.

“Who? Jaehyun?” you question, surprised that Hoseok would ask and even more so that he’d care. “No, he hasn’t,” you lie because what has that man done besides hurt you?

“Okay, that’s good. I mean, I can still see that you’re upset but at least it’s not because of him.”

“Yeah,” you agree, voice not much louder than a whisper.

Surprising you, Hoseok stands up. You turn your head, watching him approach the hammock and grab one of the forgotten blankets from it.

“You’re freezing,” he explains, draping the big blanket over your shoulders before he sits down again.

“Oh. Thank you,” you sniffle, pulling the blanket tighter around you. It smells like rainy summer air and also faintly like Jeongguk.

Silence sets, and you take the opportunity to try to calm yourself down. But then you think of everything again and the fact that out of all people, Hoseok is the one trying to comfort you—of course, you don’t know if he’s genuine or what his intentions might be if he’s not, but it’s the feeling you get—so unfortunately, another wave hits. It’s not as forceful, but your uneven breaths are loud enough not to go unnoticed between the two of you.

You get that the smartest thing to do is to explain yourself—explain why you’re outside in the middle of the night, bawling—and maybe Hoseok will be less suspicious if he feels like you trust him. So you dry your tears again, gathering your breath and voice.

“I have a terminal illness.”

Even with your face directed forward, you see in your peripherals how Hoseok turns to you further.

“Oh,” he breathes, and he sounds genuine in his worry, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. What… is it?”

“Pancreatic cancer. Stage four, metastatic.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. And terminal…?” he starts, careful as to not overstep your boundaries, “what does that mean… in regards to…?”

You grip the blanket tighter. “Not long. A few months, at best.”

The news seems to sink in slowly, and you can practically feel the gears turn in the body beside you. “What about… the baby? Jaehyun told us–I hope you don’t mind.”

You sniffle, looking down at your knees that are wrapped in the gray fabric.

“It’s okay. I haven’t been to the doctor yet, but it’s very early on. And with my prognosis… unfortunately, it’s not looking too great. I’m probably only a few weeks in and seven-eight months is most likely more than I have.”

“It’s so unfair,” Hoseok breathes in disbelief. “You’re so young. You just moved here, finally settling in. I just can’t believe it. Jaehyun seemed so happy too, in general and over the baby?”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. “He doesn’t know.”

He looks at you again, gentle eyes trying to understand. “You haven’t… told him?”

“No. I just… can’t. I don’t want him to hurt. It’s the greatest pain of my life, knowing I’m leaving him behind, all alone.”

“Oh, love… You should. I know that in the end, it’s up to you, but imagine how he’ll feel once you’re gone. Unfortunately, we take even the things most precious to us for granted sometimes, and I’m sure he’d want to know. Being your husband, he wants to take care of you.”

“It’ll ruin him.”

Obviously Jaehyun and Jeongguk are very different.

“What will be worse is knowing you struggled all on your own while he was right next to you, oblivious.”

You pause, trying to stabilize your voice further. “I’ll… think about it, but please, don’t tell anyone?”

“I won’t.”

“Thank you, Hoseok.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Gently, he squeezes your shoulder before he stands up. “Oh, and by the way, tell Jaehyun I’ll only need the stuff until tomorrow.”

Confusion sets in, and Hoseok clearly notices that you have no idea what he’s talking about.

“I came by earlier and borrowed some plates and stuff since there’s something wrong with our dishwasher. It leaves this…” he rubs his finger together, perplexed, “sticky residue, and my mom’s coming by tomorrow. I also wanted to see if you were alright, with Jaehyun leaving so abruptly before and everything, but I think you were walking the dog. Anyway, you’ll get them back tomorrow”.

“Oh, okay. No rush,” you smile despite your puffy eyes and face.

He nods in confirmation and turns to leave. You stand up as well, but there seems to be something else on his mind because he stops once more.

“Just… come over. If there’s anything you need or want, okay? We’re always here for you.”

“Thank you, Hoseok.”

In a way, you feel lightened by the encounter, and frankly, Hoseok is far from the scary person you thought he was. At least he seems to be. To be honest, you almost forgot about the bank robbing thing for a while. All of it is relative, of course–he’s still a man, after all.

Standing right outside your front door and with the blanket still over your shoulders, you observe as he crosses the street and walks up the porch to his own house. He opens the door, but right before he enters, he turns around, sending you a little wave when he sees you watching. You disappear inside as he does.

That night, you dream of terminal illnesses in all their different shapes, and you dream of pretty, brown eyes.

You wake up early, both boys still asleep next to you. For a minute, while sleep leaves your system, you let yourself observe them. Fenrir lies in the middle, on his back and with his head where the pillows are. But he’s not resting it on them, underneath his head is Jeongguk’s bicep. They look like two humans, cuddling, and you almost smile. Almost.

The worst thing is that not only does Fenrir look adorable, but so does Jeongguk. His pouty lips are a little parted, his cheeks a bit rosy, and his fluffy hair is all over the place. If only he was as sweet as he can look.

Since you placed nine bugs throughout the Jungs’ house–bugs that are set to record around the clock, there’s a lot of audio to go through, and you better get started.

With a glass of orange juice set on the coffee table, your feet pulled up under you, and a blanket thrown over your lap, you get to work. Luckily, the spikes on your screen show you whenever something was picked up, saving you from listening through hours and hours of nothing through your headphones.

Not that the spikes always indicate something of value. There are surprisingly many meows, something dropping and breaking in the kitchen, random inexplicable thumps when everything else is silent… cat sounds, you gather.

In the kitchen, you hear Hoseok and Eunha talk, but you can only pick out certain words over the running sink.

“Dishwasher…. ruined…forks…”

Well, you guess Hoseok’s excuse to borrow cutlery seems valid. What you don’t understand is the one phone call you hear him take hours later, also in the kitchen. He speaks quietly and cryptically, but you’re not worried that he knows the house is bugged, he’s probably just careful in case the phone is tapped.

“We’ll change it from five to seven. Okay? So that makes seven to ten and five to nine.”

You pause, hitting the notebook in your lap repeatedly with your pen.

We’ll change it from five to seven. Seven to ten and five to nine.

What does that mean? You’re sure it concerns his less than legal activities due to the way he talks so formally and in what sounds almost like code?

Your first thought is time stamps, but as you write them down, it doesn’t make a lot of sense, so you continue listening. Hoseok declares a few more ‘changes,’ but before he’s done talking, he disappears out of earshot.

Noting it down, you continue listening to the kitchen recordings just in case he comes back or there’s anything else of importance caught.

As for Jeongguk, he trots downstairs a little after nine a.m., throwing a ‘Good morning’ your way.

Your heart is too heavy for you to humor him too much, so you just nod at him. You don’t want to be more of a bitch than he already considers you to be, so you know you won’t give him the silent treatment, but you’re too far gone to be anything even close to friends.

As he makes coffee and wanders around the kitchen, you grab your things and carefully, without him noticing, head upstairs to listen to the tapes in peace. Not long after, you see him through the window as he leaves for his morning run, Fenrir leaping excitedly in the air next to him.

Hoseok didn’t come back to finish the phone call in the kitchen, and you’re in the middle of the bedroom tape when Jeongguk returns, sliding the bedroom door open. Like always, he’s sweaty and half naked, but it doesn’t phase you too much anymore.

When he makes no effort to venture inside or say anything, you meet his eyes. For some reason, he looks almost… soft.

“I haven’t made a lot of progress,” you cut to the chase, pulling the headphones from your head. “I’ve done the kitchen, living room, and now I’m halfway through the bedroom one. The only interesting thing so far was a phone call he took, and they—whoever was on the other side—talked a lot of numbers. He said, and I quote: ‘We’ll change it from five to seven. Okay? So that makes seven to ten and five to nine.’ Then he left the kitchen, but I think the rest of the call was picked up somewhere else. Probably in the office. Possibly even the bathrooms.”

Jeongguk looks to be thinking hard, “I have no idea what that means either? Is it a time? Different ones?”

“It’s the most logical but it doesn’t make any sense unless they’re planning something at a very specific time. Too specific. Or a span of time, but I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, I can do the rest, I’ll just take a shower first. The chief said he’ll email the bank details, including the ones you asked for later today. He’s just waiting for the last bank to deliver the data.”

“Okay,” you nod, eyes falling to the notebook in your lap again, expecting Jeongguk to leave.

“By the way, have you eaten?”

You look up, “Uh, no, I haven’t. Are you hungry? Do you want me to make something?”

Honestly, if someone told you a month ago that you’d be offering to cook for Jeon Jeongguk without absolutely needing to, you would’ve laughed or cursed them out. But you’ve admitted defeat, don’t even think too much about it now.

“I can do it,” he says, making you furrow your eyebrows. “Would you like something in particular?”

Strange. Too strange. What is he planning?

“Oh, no. You don’t need to cook for me, just make enough for yourself.”

He looks at you for a second, like he’s pondering if he should try harder.

“Are you sure?” he finally asks, appearing almost… worried where he’s lingering in the doorway.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”

You just nod.

Throughout the day, you see Jeongguk mostly busy with listening through the tapes. You try to stay out of his way, give him a chance to work, and as the sun’s remaining hours decrease, you head out into the backyard with Fenrir, kicking some ball and taking the time to really scratch his favorite spots.

At around eight p.m., you think you hear the front door close, guessing Jeongguk went for a walk or to visit someone, and not thirty minutes later, you hear footsteps behind you.

Expecting it to be Jeongguk returning, you look up from Fenrir, who has his tennis ball firmly lodged between his jaws. But it’s not.

“Hope I’m not interrupting. I saw you were outside, and I just wanted to check on you, see how you’re doing.”

“Hoseok,” you breathe, a small smile coming to you surprisingly easily. “No, of course not. I’m… good. Okay, at least.”

He nods, but also lifts his hand to scratch his jaw. “I also wanted to see if maybe you told Jaehyun? He seemed a little different when he came over just now. I feel like he’s too… out of it for you not to have told him, but he’s somewhat excited still to see the game, so I can’t really tell. I just wanted to know if I should bring it up because I want to be there for him if he knows and is having a hard time, but at the same time, I don’t want to out you if you haven’t told him.”

“I haven’t. I know I should, but I…” you feel a thick wave of emotion clog your throat and your eyes start to tear up. “I just don’t know how to break it to him? Ruin his life, you know?”

Hoseok’s brown eyes fill with sadness, and he steps forward, closing the distance between you and pulling you into his arms. Just like Jeongguk, he’s warm and firm, and he smells good. It’s not the same, but his embrace does put you at ease, at least a bit.

He strokes your back slowly. “It’s okay, take your time.”

“Thank you,” you whisper into his chest.

He’s only there for a few minutes, petting Fenrir for a bit after stepping away from you. Then he disappears with the excuse that they’re watching the game and how his ‘bathroom break’ is getting suspiciously long.

You go inside too, passing the kitchen table where Jeongguk sat earlier, listening to the tapes. He’s left behind the notebook and laptop, fortunately both closed or you would’ve given him an earful upon his return. Curiously, you approach the table, sitting down on the chair still halfway pulled out. Did he come to any sort of conclusion?

Opening the notebook to the last written pages, you see a lot of notes in Jeongguk’s handwriting.

The first thing he’s done is transcribe the phone call he evidently managed to catch the rest of. It seems like Hoseok and whoever he was on the phone with went over a whole bunch of those numbers, all written down in blue ink.

Then there’s the name of a bank, ‘Suisse’ being a part of it. That has to be the bank they stash the money in. And the name of another bank, one that rings a bell for you, but you can’t say exactly why, and you know it’s not one of the banks recently robbed.

Jeongguk has written the numbers down as time stamps, as dates, as amounts of money in different currencies, as locations, trying to cross check them with everything he could think of, but the twenty-three different sets of numbers make no sense, and he’s crossed them over as he’s come to the realization.

Then, he’s thought of something else, circling a missing number six in blue, a large question mark above it. And it’s true, all the other sets of numbers contain something between two and seven, and a number between one and twenty-four. Except six.

Glancing curiously at the laptop, you pull it closer, the screen awakening when you open it. You enter the password only you and Jeongguk know, and you’re immediately taken to files from an email. The bank statements.

Scrolling through page upon page, it starts to sink in. You had a thought a few days ago, just a small one that you weren’t even too sure of, and it’s why you sent for so much bank info… but to make sure, you need to write something down. Grabbing the pen Jeongguk used, you turn the page, only to see that he came to the same conclusion. With your finger, you trace the rushed numbers written down. If added up, the smaller digits total a hundred. As in percent.

The many, many names stare at you from the screen, the bank deposits and balances you won’t have time to really look through at the moment but that will confirm everything later.

After robbing the banks, each number gets a smaller percentage to deposit over time, small enough to not be obvious or necessarily laundered in most cases, and they vary percentages between heists. One through twenty-four, the latter numbers are tied to the neighborhood's houses, number six being the only one missing because that’s you.

They’re all in on it.

The discovery has your heart beating fast, but you wonder if Jeongguk realized the exact same thing. If he did, essentially making the biggest and most important discovery in the case so far, why would he go to hang with the guys? Why not speak to you and fill you in immediately? The only explanation you can think of is that he’d already made the plans to watch the game without telling you. Still, he could’ve told you first.

You’re not entirely sure what this will mean for the rest of the mission, but your guess is that you’ve done what you can here. The Jung house is bugged, and the batteries will last for another week or so, but there’s not much else you can do, and it puts a bit of worry in you.

Trying to infiltrate, become a part of the neighborhood-wide network is too risky, especially for Jeongguk who lacks basically any kind of training in the area. To be honest, you’re not so keen on trying it, either: your training in that area having been a while ago and not put to very much use since. As established, every moment living under this roof, in this neighborhood, is a risk, and since you’ve made it this far—incredibly enough—you feel like you can’t call it quits early enough.

While Jeongguk is still at the Jungs’, you take the time to look through the details again. You move upstairs into the bedroom, Fenrir staying downstairs to nap under the kitchen table.

It’s the bank name you’re stuck on. Not the Swiss one and not the ones confirmed already robbed, but the new one. A calculated guess is that it’s the target for the next robbery, and the change in percentages is part of the preparations.

Biting your lip, you type ‘KSung’ into Google, closing your eyes briefly when result after result pops up. In the little info square on the right side of the screen, you see a name that makes your eyes widen.

Kyung Sunghyun. Fuck, how could you forget? Kyung Sunghyun is only one of the main suspects in the other case you’ve been working on, the one the chief always disregards in favor of others. But with your memory jumpstarted—which probably simply failed due to the immense stress you’ve been under—it all comes back.

Kyung Sunghyun, the founder and CEO of KSung is somehow embezzling money and using it to fund human trafficking. Well, you don’t have a lot of evidence regarding the latter, but you have an informed… feeling. Now, Hoseok plans to rob his bank? What does that mean, a coincidence or are they connected somehow? You knew Hoseok was a bad man but to be in cahoots with a(n alleged) human trafficker? Could it be an attempt at insurance fraud?

You’re just about to note down your most recent discovery when you hear the front door close. At first, you don’t think too much of it, focused on your notes, but the way someone is very angrily ascending the stairs has you holding your breath. You’re frozen, and you can hear your pulse race.

Then, the door flies open, and he stands there, furious eyes finding you. With your heart in your throat, you move, nearly falling off the bed in your pursuit of getting as far away from him as possible. He shouts something at you, but you don’t quite register the words, only that he’s nearing, and that his right hand is gripping a knife.

<33

709 notes · View notes

connieluvsr · 7 months

Text

dextrocardia | 04

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, smut

word count: 5.3k

warnings for this part: none really, except sexism and insults and jk is HOT but confusing (also,,,, k i s s i n g)

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 4/?

Behind you, Jeongguk must be looking even more confused than you.

“It’s hard not to notice the tv when you don’t have any curtains and really big windows,” Eunha elaborates with a chuckle.

Shit. Your heart starts to race, and you can feel your hands go clammy. That’s your fault. You leave the ginormous tv on during the night whenever it’s your turn on the couch.

“He snores,” you blurt. “And I don’t wanna disturb him so I sometimes go downstairs because I know he needs his sleep.”

You know you’ll be skinned alive the moment you’re alone together, but you needed a believable explanation and you needed one fast. Technically, you could’ve pinned the snoring on yourself, but… no, Jeongguk and his friends have made your life a living hell, and you’re not about to forget that just because he’s got a tender touch and kissable lips.

“Oh?” It’s Hoseok who speaks, “That must be rough.”

“Yeah, I’ve told her to wake me, but she insists on going down, herself,” Jeongguk answers, his voice gentle and warm, and even if you can’t technically hear it, you do hear it; the irritation.

You zone out after that, relieved that your quick thinking worked but still frozen in some kind of fear, the others’ voices becoming muffled as they move on to small talk. You nod here and smile there, but soon enough, you and Jeongguk turn to leave.

“Why the fuck did you have to say that?” he seethes the moment you’re out of sight, turning to walk down the neighborhood’s sidewalk.

You keep your eyes forward and your emotions in check, knowing that there could be neighbors watching. “Because we needed an excuse.”

“And of course, your first instinct is to throw me under the bus.”

“No, but I don’t see why I should always be the one to sacrifice myself?”

“‘Sacrifice yourself?’ I can’t recall you sacrificing anything, actually.”

You can’t say that he doesn’t, once again, disappoint you, but you glance at him, your lips parted. You definitely shouldn’t be surprised.

“You’re an ass,” you inform, “and on second thought, I think I’ll head back. Don’t really feel like hanging out with you.”

Holding your hand out, expecting him to pass the leash to you, you have to admit that what does surprise you is seeing him sigh and almost look… apologetic. Almost.

“I can still take him for a walk. I know you said he needed it, so I can do it, I don’t mind.”

For two seconds, you contemplate. But you don’t have the energy to argue and while you stare at Jeongguk, Fenrir pulls on the lead, excited for a long walk. You may dislike Jeongguk, but he seems weirdly fond of your dog.

“Fine.”

They’re gone for nearly two hours, leaving you to plan the coming days in peace, and when they return, Fenrir snoozes off happily under the dining table.

It turns out that the house’s sad excuse of a flower bed comes in handy for you. There are weeds and corpses of a few different plants you can’t identify sticking up from the dry dirt that lines the inside of the fence in the front yard. It’s not like you have an extreme interest in gardening, but thanks to your grandma, you know a few things, and coincidentally, working on it will give you a good reason to be outside, observing both the neighbors and possibly that god forsaken cat.

Wiping your forehead with your wrist so as to not transfer dirt from the gloves to your face, you gaze up, irritated at the sun. It just had to be an exceptionally warm summer, didn’t it? Insane beyond words, Jeongguk left about an hour ago to join Namjoon on his jog, and you almost hope he perishes from sunstroke or dehydration while away.

You’re wearing another light blue, flowy dress, your bare knees on the grass as you’re kneeling in front of the dirt. Despite the result of the flower bed being absolutely not important whatsoever, you’re still happy with what you’ve accomplished during the last hour or two.

Behind you is the pile of weeds you’ve managed to unearth, which is a lot. Unfortunately, you don’t have any live plants or even seeds to plant, so there’s just one more thing you can do today, which is watering the flowerless flower bed thoroughly.

It takes way too much effort to unroll the garden hose from its wall-mounted holder, but with the hose on the ground and the tiny little lever pulled just right, you hear the telltale sound of water moving through it.

The area you’ve “moved” into is a fairly dry one, so you’ll have to really drench the soil all the way down, and you waste no time.

As soon as you twist the muzzle, the water sputters until there’s a steady stream flowing. You twist some more, and the stream evolves into something more like a shower. It’s pretty, how the sun’s rays scatter on the many, many droplets, and you feel the slight breeze carry the very smallest of them to your skin.

You take a deep, relaxing breath, enjoying the feeling and letting some tension go. You’ve been so uncomfortable here. Unsurprising, really, considering who else shares your house and what the mission means, but it’s really put a dent in your health. You have a hard time sleeping, scared of being snuck up on and murdered, and you don’t eat much, paranoid of being poisoned. Danger and evil is everywhere, around every corner.

You lift your gaze from the ground, and it falls on a specific house on the other side of the street. The cat, a ragdoll?, has shown himself maybe once. Perhaps you’ve also seen a suspiciously fluffy tail swish past a window once. His relative absence confirms your suspicion that he spends most of his time at a window facing the backyard and not the front.

You’re in the middle of planning a shorter side mission that might entail you, dressed in black from head to toe, and crawling through the tiny little, tree-sparse forest behind the Jung’s backyard fence when a sound catches your attention.

Before realizing that it’s Jeongguk calling your fake name, you’re startled, your body tensing up and turning around.

Still with the hose in your hand.

“What the?!” he exclaims, as he’s doused in the cold hose water, and you’re immediately trying to get your surprised hands to twist the muzzle shut.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” you apologize, eyes lowering from a half-naked (to whose surprise?) and dripping Jeongguk to your hands.

The wet, slippery hose doesn’t cooperate, and so all you can do is redirect the water down onto the ground while you try your best to shut it off.

Somewhere in the back of your head, you register… laughter, and big hands suddenly appear in your vision to take the hose from your hands.

When you peer up, you’re eye to eye with your partner, his hair wet and dripping water onto his face. But he’s grinning, seemingly carefree and not… angry?

Gently, he takes the hose and twists it shut, and when you look around, you notice the reason. There’s laughter coming from the small audience of Namjoon, also half-naked and sweaty from their run, and Eunha and Hoseok, leaning against their own fence on the other side of the street. Perhaps you also spot one of the older ladies living in a house further down the street peek her head out the open door at the ruckus.

“Thank you. And, uh, sorry,” you smile sheepishly, watching a droplet run down Jeongguk’s face and drip from the tip of his nose.

“It’s okay.”

But his smile grows as he takes a step back, and before you know it, he’s turning the water on again with you as his target.

“Jeo–Jaehyun!!” you shriek, holding your hands out in a feeble attempt to stop the cold stream from soaking your dress.

Oddly enough, your nemesis turns the setting to the softest stream, but you realize it perhaps wouldn’t look the best if he was witnessed trying to powerwash his wife’s skin from her bones.

Luckily for you, he only keeps it on for a few seconds, but you definitely think he enjoys it. When he shuts the water off again, he drops the hose to the ground to approach you.

You lock eyes, your heart beating heavily, and you don’t have the brain capacity to think about the others watching.

He steps closer, so much so that you’re nearly chest to chest, and your heart comes to a standstill instead as you peer up at him. Your skin is wet, almost as wet as his although your hair remains a bit dryer.

A water drop threatens to fall from a black strand hanging nearly in his eyes. Eyes that don’t waver from yours. They’re warmer, almost freckled with gold under the sun.

“Your dress is see-through.”

Not once, as he walks you back to the front door, shielding you with his own body, does he look down. Not even as the distance between you increases when you go to open the door to slip inside, instead, he looks away.

“Thank you.” You don’t know why you’re thanking him. Well, you do, but you don’t.

“No problem,” he smiles, turning around to head back to his new-found buddy.

Around twenty minutes later, when you’re in a dry change of clothes, Jeongguk enters the house.

“Eunha’s visiting her mom in two days. She’ll spend the night there too.”

You look up from your laptop where you’re sitting on the couch. Jeongguk is still half-naked because when is he not, but he’s also still a bit wet. Not as much, so you figure he must’ve dried off quite a bit out in the sun, already disappearing into the bathroom to return with a towel to pat the remaining water away with.

“What? How do you know that?”

“I heard her. She asked Namjoon where to buy a bonsai tree for her mom.”

“Oh,” you answer, trying not to stare as Jeongguk rubs the towel all over his hair, making his abdominal muscles flex. “That’s good. So, today is… Tuesday, meaning that she’ll leave on Thursday, and spend the night. Their cat’s favorite window is guaranteed at the back of the house, so if we find a way to figure out which exact window it is by Thursday… We can get inside then.”

“No, that’s too early. You want me to go to the poker night–the first one I’ve been invited to–and skip out early? Even if we do crack which window it is, it’s too risky. Too suspicious. I say we wait a week; watch the cat in the meantime, and I’ll leave early next week.”

You’re almost a bit taken aback. Since when does Jeongguk know how to converse–about your different opinions nonetheless–without calling you names and looking at you with disgust? Silently, you wonder if he slipped and fell on his head outside.

“It’s not. We use one of the battery-powered mini cameras and we set it up on their backyard fence tonight after dark, and you go to Namjoon’s on Thursday, stay for a drink or two, for maybe… an hour or two? I’ll call you and tell you that I’m sick.”

He watches you, still unconvinced but with a surprisingly optimistic look on his face.

“The quicker we get even the smallest lead that we can use in the investigation–and we can leave, the better. Even if it’s a bit less suspicious to postpone a week, the risks increase each day we’re here. Besides, we don’t know when the house will be empty again.”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything, and so you shut your eyes for a second before opening them and looking at him. “They’re not telling us anything; our best bet is to bug the house as soon as possible. You can tell them I’m pregnant or something. Say that it’s early on but that I’m still affected. You can even say that I’ve been sleeping on the couch because I throw up a lot and want to be near the bathroom and not disturb you. That I lied about you snoring because I didn’t want to tell anyone yet. ”

Finally, he seems to actually consider it, biting his cheek before he speaks. “Fine. We rig the camera tonight, and depending on how it goes, if we get clear enough evidence on the cat, we do it this week.”

“What do you say?” Jeongguk’s quiet voice sounds from your phone that’s lying on the kitchen table.

“A little more to the right. No, no, tilt it to the right,” you guide, both hands gripping the Ipad screen. Jeongguk follows your instructions and the Jungs’ house moves within the borders.

“There, there! That’s good; all windows are in frame.”

“Good, I’ll just… fasten it,” he informs, and you can hear the slight rustling and see the camera move minorly. “Still good?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. I’ll be back within five.”

With that, the call ends, and you sigh. The house is still displayed on the screen, in the night vision mode’s green tint. You make sure the screen is plugged in properly, and you adjust the settings to start recording at the smallest sign of movement.

Then, with approximately one minute left until Jeongguk’s return, you start preparing. He’s been more focused on the job the last few hours which is positive because the more focused he is, the less vile he is toward you.

You take a deep breath when the front door opens, silently reminding yourself to not stare at his body. Before he left, he got changed into a black, long-sleeved compression shirt and black cargo pants, and you’re not sure what’s worse, the usual lack of a shirt or this one because you can still see every little shape and bulge and dent in his upper body.

“Works?” he asks the moment he steps into the kitchen, heading directly toward the cupboard with glasses.

“Yeah, good, uh… job.”

The second it’s out, you shut your eyes briefly. You didn’t need to say that, he was gone for less than fifteen minutes. He taped a camera to a fence. Immediately, you brace yourself for the incoming insult. ‘It’s not hard when you have the slightest bit of talent in your body,’ or ‘do you really think I need compliments from you?’

“Thank you.”

You blink, certainly surprised.

It would’ve been your turn on the couch if you hadn’t gotten fucking exposed. What bothers you is also that, after hearing Jeongguk’s reasoning, a small part of you is actually considering sleeping in the bed with him.

“We don’t even have curtains. And our windows are too big, if they look through them even from the street, they’ll most likely see you.”

Maybe you’re the one who hit their head somehow? Because you’re currently standing in the bedroom, watching Jeongguk pull the covers away.

“That’s all you’re wearing?” you question, fidgeting with your hands and nodding toward his mostly-naked body. Of course, he’s bare up top, only wearing a pair of shorts, and it’s ridiculous how fit and muscular he is. The muscles in his arm flex when he grabs a pillow, and his abs move too when he positions it to his liking.

“Uh… Yeah? It’s summer; it’s hot as fuck.”

It doesn’t matter that he isn’t spitting insults in your face–you’re still not comfortable with him. Maybe even less so because why would he suddenly not take a very good chance to hurt you? Why didn’t he insinuate that you’re lucky to be able to witness a body like his? Sleep next to him in bed?

Should you do it? What happens if you don’t, and they notice you on the couch? You don’t think your neighbors are suspicious of you but will they be? If the mission fails–if you fuck it up–what will happen? You won’t pretend that your safety isn’t at risk.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or…?”

“What about Fenrir?”

Jeongguk plops down on the bed in a sitting position with his back against the headboard and clasps his hands behind his head. You try not to look at how his biceps bulge.

“I don’t mind him. In fact, I’d rather sleep beside him than you, so he might as well sleep in here too.”

There it is, some sort of insult. In fairness, you guess having someone as gorgeous and talented as Jeongguk also be kind would offset some sort of balance in the world. You just can’t have it all.

While he watches, you open the closet and gather some shorts and a t-shirt in your arms, and without a word, you head out to the bathroom on the bottom floor.

Fenrir looks at you with his big, brown eyes when you unlock the bathroom door a few minutes later, having washed up and changed for the night. He’s an attentive dog–that’s why you got him–and he surely knows that you’re nervous.

“Okay, we can do this,” you whisper to the dog, “It’s just one man, and you’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours.”

Not that Jeongguk would even look at Fenrir with anything remotely close to disgust, but it feels better when you remind yourself that Fenrir’s on your side. Sure, Jeongguk may like him, and perhaps Fenrir likes him back, but the dog is yours, and you are his favorite person.

When you return, Jeongguk is still sitting in bed, but he’s preoccupied with the phone in his hands.

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow, then?” you ask, flicking the light switch off and trying to ignore your nerves as you approach the bed.

“I’m not sure,” Jeongguk answers without looking up. The only lightsource in the room is the device in his hands, and it illuminates his face, “what do we need before we’re ready to enter the house?”

“Well, we’ve got the equipment and hopefully the window of time when Eunha’s away and Hoseok’s at Namjoon’s. If we’re lucky, we’re able to confirm which window to enter through tomorrow. I’d say all we need to do is perfect our excuse as to why you’ll have to return home without it seeming suspicious.”

You stop at the foot of the bed, disgusted at the thought of having babies with Jeongguk, even if they’re made up.

“Also, we should probably see if we can find out more about their cameras, if there’s, you know, a plug to pull before entering just in case either of them decide to take a look. You could always try to steal Hoseok’s phone during the poker night or otherwise prevent him from looking, but Eunha might want to check in on the cat through hers.”

“I can have the chief make some calls to cut the power to their house for a few minutes?”

Surprised, you look at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“I mean–yeah, if that’s a possibility? I didn’t know it was?”

He puts the phone down on the bedside table. “I think it is. It won’t work for the alarm since those have backup batteries, and there’s a small risk the cameras could as well, but it would be better than only disconnecting the router while already inside in case they have their own connection. We don’t know if the cameras are set to record movement or, like you said, Eunha decided to take a look either.”

His suggestion is good, you can’t deny that, but it makes irritation bubble in your veins. Yes, the chief is sexist like so many men in law enforcement, and your relationship isn’t the best, but to hear Jeongguk speak of the man as something like a friend? You doubt he’d be cutting power if you asked.

“So, are you getting in, or?”

Blinking in the low light, you realize that you’ve just been standing at the foot of the bed with both Jeongguk and Fenrir watching you, Fenrir from the floor beside the bed.

“Yes,” you sputter, not wanting your nerves to show. More determined than you’ve felt in quite some time–fake determination or not–you grab the duvet on your side to get under it. “Just a warning, though. If you touch me, I’ll get Fenrir to bite you. Fenrir, up!”

The big dog jumps up and lies down between you and Jeongguk, and you feel confident enough to lie down with your back toward him.

“If I touch you? You think I want to touch you?”

Like so many times before, your heart sinks. Of course, it doesn’t make sense that you care since you hate the man, but evidently, you do. You’ve begun to reach the conclusion that something’s wrong with you.

Unsurprisingly, you don’t sleep much. At all, really. So, you rise with the sun because what’s the use in lying in bed with an unconscious Jeongguk? He’s definitely pretty to look at, and sleep somehow makes him look almost… endearing, but you definitely know you shouldn’t, so you grab a change of clothes and leave the bedroom.

It’s eight a.m., and you’re sitting at the kitchen table when a newly awoken Jeongguk drags his feet into the kitchen. You look up from the tablet just in time to see him stretch his arms over his head and yawn. Still half-naked, of course.

“Didn’t expect you to be awake at a reasonable time,” he comments, nearly tripping over his own feet. It makes you snicker, and you curse to yourself.

“Dude, I don’t think you’re even awake.”

Jeongguk squints his light sensitive eyes at you, his hair sticking out in every direction and swaying as he approaches the fridge. After opening it, he reaches for the orange juice, and you think you feel the air turn slightly… awkward.

“So, today… We should look happy. Like, even happier than just newly-weds. As if we just found out you were… pregnant? Or should the story be that we’ve known a little while?”

Oh. Your fingers trace the rim of your own mug.

“Well, if I’m supposed to be sick tomorrow, then maybe it would be best if we say that we, or I, have been suspecting it because I’ve been feeling… the symptoms? And that it’s the reason I decided to test for it yesterday? We can act like we’re happy but trying to keep it a secret for a little while longer because it’s still early?”

Taking a sip from the blue mug in his hand, Jeongguk nods. “I’ll do the rounds, looking excited, but I won’t tell them until poker tomorrow when I explain why I’ll need to go home.”

“Because I’m sick and worried something might be wrong?”

“Yeah. By the way, did you have time to look through that yet?” he gestures toward the screen in your hand. “Did it show anything?”

“Yeah, I think we got it,” you smile hopefully.

Your sleepless night catches up to you, and while Jeongguk locks the door behind him to meet Namjoon for yet another morning run, you dive back into bed. Can you call it a nap if it’s not even ten a.m.? Who knows, but the extra sleep in a quiet house does you good.

At eleven, you stick your feet into your sandals to take Fenrir for a walk, but it isn’t long after you’ve stepped outside that you spot Jeongguk and Namjoon outside your short fence. Both are breathing heavily and more or less drenched in sweat. In all honesty, Namjoon is both slightly taller and bigger than Jeongguk, even if Jeongguk looks more… defined, but… it bothers you how your eyes are drawn so much more to Jeongguk. You, if anyone, know what a terrible person he is, and how he finds you appalling and gross and disgusting, yet you find yourself looking at him.

You manage to pass the men quickly, but since you’re supposed to be extra happy and in love today, you still make an effort to give your fake husband a heart-eyed smile and a kiss from your tippy toes, your hand on his sweaty chest. He looks down at you warmly, and you hope that you manage to look as happy as he does.

You allow Fenrir to do his business, and then, you’re on your way to Hyeji’s house. She’s on her porch when you approach, excitedly waving you closer.

“Good morning!” she greets, and even Bubbles comes running from inside the house, barking.

“Morning, how are you today?” you lean your arms on the fence, giving her your best ‘I just found out I’m having a child with the man of my dreams but I’m keeping it a secret for now’ smile.

“Great! How are you? Care for some tea?”

“I’m pretty great too. And sure, I’d love to,” you smile, intending on acting like you’re feeling sick but pretending to be good. Layers.

Hyeji grins, and as you head inside the fence and toward her porch with Fenrir in tow, you realize that perhaps you’ll miss her when all of this is over. If you make it out, that is, there are still a ton of risks.

For almost three hours, you sit and chit chat. You even forget that you’re supposed to act somewhat happy because you don’t have to act. In a way, Hyeji reminds you of your friends back home, of Sana and Jihyo, but despite how much you’d rather stay and talk about anything and everything (except your real life) with her, you should probably get going.

Your mind is in overdrive during the short walk back to the house. Dark, mysterious eyes, friends, assignments, weapons. Gunshots. When you slide the unlocked front door open, the house is eerily quiet. Your heartbeat picks up.

“J–Jaehyun?” you call carefully, just in case Jeongguk is home but not alone. There’s no reply, but another sound. Like… groaning?

Briefly, you wonder if someone’s hurt, and logically, it would be Jeongguk. Slowly, you sneak through the front part of the house with Fenrir’s collar tightly gripped, until you see him.

It is Jeongguk, and he’s doing pull ups on one of those bars he installed in the doorway to the bathroom. Like earlier, he’s wearing shorts, his sweaty back facing you, and he appears to be listening to music through his headphones. For just a second, you let yourself admire him; his strong back and arms, and the sounds he makes. Then, you unleash Fenrir, chuckling a little to yourself when he lunges in excitement, startling Jeongguk to the point he almost falls on his ass.

“Didn’t hear you,” he heaves, bending down to scratch Fenrir behind the ears.

“We noticed. How has it gone today, so far?”

Jeongguk straightens up, “Uh, pretty well. I’ve mainly been, you know, trying to build relations and acting extra happy. Also went through the footage up until now, and the result’s the same. It’s for sure that window.”

You nod, “That’s… good. Means we can proceed with the plan.”

The plan may not have been the most detailed or… planned, and it definitely didn’t contain Jeongguk moving the old hammock–left behind in the backyard by the old owners–onto the porch and waving you closer when you step outside.

“It’s… cold,” you excuse, looking out over the street. It’s nine p.m., and the sun is setting over the neighborhood, but it doesn’t mean that its residents have retreated inside yet. In the distance, there’s still laughter and chatter echoing from someone’s backyard, and two houses over, people are sitting on the steps of their porch with wine glasses in their hands.

In a surprisingly good mood, Jeongguk keeps motioning for you to come closer. You do slowly, wrapping your arms around your dress-clad self.

Seeing Jeongguk look anything other than seething confuses you and nearly has you squinting your eyes at him in suspicion. An hour earlier, you went looking for Fenrir, calling his name throughout the house and starting to grow worried. Then you saw them through the window, playing in the backyard, and you stayed there, watching.

You don’t like seeing Jeongguk happy. It’s just not believable. To be fair, he didn’t know you were watching him, and he was alone with your dog with no one else around, so there was no use for him to pretend, but… it just can’t be real.

The eyes that are usually so dark with hatred and disgust–or at least used to be–crinkled in a way you’ve never really seen before. He smiled as he called for your dog’s attention, laughing happily when Fenrir went running for the ball Jeongguk threw. You observed as they played for a while, and then as Jeongguk sat down in the grass and patted his lap, Fenrir trotting over with the ball between his jaws and lying down across Jeongguk’s legs.

“Stop whining,” he teases, looking so handsome as he rises to stand before you, “and sit with me.”

Taking you by surprise, Jeongguk shrugs off the navy sweatshirt he’d been wearing and places it over your head before you can say anything about it. Somewhat reluctantly, you put your arms through the holes, gasping in surprise when Jeongguk tugs you down beside him by one of the inevitable sweater paws.

“Do you think they’re fooled?” he wonders quietly, still holding onto the sweater, “Do we look like newlyweds that can’t keep their hands off each other?”

“Umm, I don’t know. Never been a newlywed. Or married at all, actually.”

You’re not sure what it is, if it’s your quiet voices in the summer night air, or if it’s something else, but a calmness starts to settle in your chest.

Jeongguk chuckles, locating your hand in the fabric, “Well, me neither. But we look like we could be, at least I think. You’re not the worst actress, after all. Or wife.”

Eyebrows raised slightly, you meet his eyes. “How generous of you.”

He keeps smiling but doesn’t say anything more, and slowly, he raises his hand, stroking your cheek before gently holding your chin. Then, he moves closer, and he kisses you.

You let him, and you definitely do kiss him back. Slowly at first, then a little more eager. He tugs a little on your waist, and carefully, and with your heart beating out of your chest, you move onto his lap. He keeps his warm hands on your waist, rubbing soft circles with his thumbs, and you feel the rough fabric of his jeans against the skin of your legs.

At that moment, he’s sweet. Kind. Funny. You don’t think about the cockiness, the arrogance, the rolling of eyes, and insults directed your way. You live the fantasy, ringed fingers and feelings growing warmer. Being cared for, desired. But even if all of it were true, you’d have a lot to work through. And it isn’t true, it’s an act, especially from his side. The neighbor you saw peek over her hedge a minute ago just reminds you of it. It doesn’t stop you from coming to the realization that you want it. You want him to like you, you want him to want you.

Despite you not moving much on his lap, something soon happens. At first, you thought you imagined it, but no, he’s definitely getting hard underneath you while also slowly, slowly lowering one of his warm hands to the naked skin of your outer, lower thigh, and it triggers your fight or flight response.

You pull back, fear in your eyes as you climb off him.

“Hey, I–” he tries, but you’re already back away.

“I gotta go, I, uh, have to get ready,” you excuse.

Of course, there isn’t anything to get ready for, not until tomorrow anyway. But you turn, and you hurry inside, locking yourself in the bathroom.

819 notes · View notes

connieluvsr · 7 months

Text

dextrocardia | 02

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, smut

word count: 7.5k

warnings for this part: overall sexism, jk is mean but not much more than that.

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 2/?

When you wake up, the sun is already shining its rays through the living room windows, and you hear something that sounds eerily like a shower running. Immediately, you fly into a sitting position, patting down the covers retrieved from “your” side of the bed in search of your phone. Fenrir, curled up over your legs, lifts his head to look at you.

“Fuck,” you whisper when you find the device. It’s nine a.m. You really couldn’t sleep last night, too on edge, and the last thing you remember, it was six-fifty.

Few things make you as uncomfortable as the thought of being asleep on the couch while Jeongguk’s awake and walking around in the house, and the sound of the shower stops while you’re still cringing at how you didn’t manage to wake up before him. You guess you’re lucky that he needs you for the mission, otherwise, he wouldn’t have passed up a chance of suffocating you with a pillow, surely. Additionally, you probably looked even more disgusting than usual.

Touching your mouth, you’re at least relieved that there’s no drool, and although your hair feels slightly messy under your fingers, it certainly doesn’t feel like a bird’s nest. You're busy patting it down further when something moves in your peripherals.

Of course, it’s Jeongguk entering the room. And of course, he’s shirtless, the only thing he’s wearing being a pair of gray sweatpants hanging incredibly low on his hips.

Let’s just say that if you weren’t entirely awake, you for sure are now.

It’s truly ridiculous, and you hate how the vision in front of you–Jeongguk holding a towel in one hand and drying his black strands with it, occasionally lowering it to dab away a stray drop that’s run down his chest–almost makes you forget how much you hate him.

You knew very well how fit he is, but to see the evidence? The way the muscles bulge under his skin? It turns your skull into an echo chamber.

You especially despise how insanely attractive he is. Because sure, muscles are hot on their own, but it’s the way he’s so nicely proportioned, his wide, strong shoulders that evolve to impressive but not exaggerated biceps, and veiny, sturdy-looking arms.

As he rubs his hair with the towel, you can even see parts of some kind of back muscle peek out on his side, a little lower than the bottom of his shoulder blades. And why does his waist look like that? Tiny, defined, and the contours of those muscles making up his abs and v-line move with his every breath. And you haven’t even mentioned the tattoos snaking up his arm and making him look all the more dangerous.

At least you find some sort of solace knowing that with a body fat percentage in the negatives like that, if the world were to end, Jeongguk probably wouldn’t survive anything colder than a mild winter.

“So you decided to finally wake up?” his voice snaps you out of it, and you meet his eyes, annoyance starting to trickle into yours. “Don’t you think you should get up earlier? What if someone pays us a visit to see you still asleep at this hour? Not very housewife of you.”

“Oh, shut up. As if you’ve accomplished anything at this hour except being an ass,” you roll your eyes, turning your head and trying not to let him see how your cheeks are just a bit warmer than before. “And put some clothes on, will you?”

“Well, I did find out that the guys spend Thursday nights at the Kims’, playing poker, and managed to get myself invited,” Jeongguk boasts. “And no, I don’t think I will. I realize you’ve most likely never seen this much of a man before, but if I were you, I’d take advantage of it. Who knows when someone will let you see anything like this again. Never, probably.”

He gestures toward his abs, and you have to admit that the single water drop running down the bulging muscles looks very delectable. Of course, you don’t let him know that, hurt and anger still boiling in your veins.

“Unfortunately, I have, but it doesn’t matter, I don’t wanna see you. At all, actually. And when would you have had the time to find anything out?”

“Oh, right. I forgot. And I found it out when I went on my morning run just now? And keep telling yourself that, honey. You may hate men, but you can’t deny the fact that you'd get under me in a heartbeat if you had the chance.”

It’s the way he takes a step closer, arrogance reeking from him, and you despise how, for a split second, your gaze lingers on his thighs, visibly thick even through the fabric, and the evident bulge, not even visibly hard, front and center. You loathe how you just know that Jeongguk is most likely big and pretty, and how he definitely knows it too.

Seething–and with your heartbeat racing–you reach underneath the duvet to pluck the razor blade from its container strapped to your thigh. “Come closer and I promise you, I’ll cut your corneas out, and my face will be the last thing you see.”

“You’re fucking mental,” he shakes his head in disbelief, seemingly not very scared by your threat or the blade between your fingers. “What kinda name is ‘Fenrir’ anyway?”

You follow his line of sight, eyes landing on the new topic of conversation lying beside you. Carefully, you place the razor blade back.

“Norse mythology? The evil wolf that killed Odin?”

You take his raised eyebrows as a ‘no’. “The gods tried to bind him with magic chains, but Fenrir refused, only allowed it if his handler, the god Tyr, dared put his arm in Fenrir’s mouth.”

“So? Did he?”

“Yes, and Fenrir bit it off.”

You can’t really decipher the look on Jeongguk’s face except that he looks disinterested. He hums a ‘huh,’ and turns to leave the room. Weird.

Deciding to follow his lead even though your body is screaming at you to go back to sleep, you stand up and fold the duvet over your arm. Fenrir jumps down from the couch and follows you as you head up the stairs to return the covers to the empty side of the bed.

With the bed made, you shut your eyes briefly. You need to get started with the day and the mission, but that means going back downstairs and most likely having to spend time with Jeongguk close by while you’d much rather just stay in the bedroom alone.

Sucking it up, you change into another dress provided for you, a light pink summer dress with a pattern of the tiniest flowers on it. It’s pretty, but as you stand before the mirror, your eyes fill with worry. It’s not as tight as the blue one, but you’re still scared Jeongguk will comment on your body. You sigh and will yourself to not think about it and move on. It doesn’t matter.

When it comes to your hair, you would’ve just combed your fingers through it if you were home, maybe tied it away from your face somehow, but you wouldn’t have carefully combed through it like you do now. Neither would you have reached for a small bottle and pumped it twice into your hands, rubbing them together before applying the oil to the lengths of it.

You meet your own eyes in the bathroom mirror. Should you just apply some make-up? It’s no surprise that you look exhausted, and you don’t think you could hide it–along with all your imperfections–with make-up, but maybe just to smooth out your skin tone? Add some eyeliner and mascara to make your eyes look bigger? Contour your cheekbones a bit?

With a deep sigh, you retrieve your make-up bag, starting off by washing your face. Surely, they could’ve sent another female detective? If not Jihyo then Sana? Someone more appropriate and definitely more fitting than you. Because you’re… alright, but objectively and infuriatingly speaking, you don’t belong with Jeongguk. How no one has already called you out on your bluff is beyond you.

Looking somewhat presentable, you decide to take Fenrir out on his first walk of the day. It’s nice to have a backyard where he can relieve himself but he needs a lot more than just that.

The sun is already high in the sky when you close the front door behind you, leash in hand. Discreetly checking out your surroundings, you notice some of your neighbors doing various yard-work and gardening.

Although these are people you’re supposed to spy on and put on your life’s act in front of, you honestly feel more relaxed outside than you do inside the house with Jeongguk. Fenrir stretches his body out before lowering his nose to sniff the lawn.

For a moment, as you walk through the neighborhood that’s actually pretty lovely, you almost forget about everything bothering you and the challenging mission you’re on.

The sound of someone calling your fake name snaps you out of your thoughts as you walk along the sidewalk. When you turn around, you see Hyeji waving excitedly, a leash of her own in her hand. Her dog is much smaller than Fenrir, and it’s white. A maltese perhaps?

It’s with a bit of smug pride that you return to the house one hour later, opening the door for yourself and Fenrir.

You expected Jeongguk to be there, of course, and not to be at his very happiest because of, well, the situation, but when he comes to meet you at the door, he’s angrier than you could’ve guessed.

“Where were you?” he crosses his arm over his chest–at least wearing a navy t-shirt now–his jaw tight.

“Walking Fenrir?” you state, stepping back and definitely not understanding what his problem is. You’ve been gone for a little more than an hour, not the entire day.

The dog in question stands between the two of you, giving Jeongguk his stink eye. He doesn’t like men all that much, especially not if they seem threatening or unstable in any way, and Jeongguk does give off that kind of vibe.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Well, no? I didn’t think I had to ask for permission?” you blink in disgust. “You do know that this housewife, bread-winning husband thing is just an act, right? Besides, we just woke up, you’d think you’d understand that he needs to go outside.”

Jeongguk scoffs, “Just tell me when you leave and where.”

“Because?”

“Because,” he lowers his voice to a strained whisper, “we’re not exactly here on vacation, and I wanna know where you are.”

“But you didn’t tell me when you left for your run?”

“Because you were sleeping, and besides, I’m a man.”

“You’re a real dick, Jeongguk, you know that, right?”

Jeongguk just rolls his eyes, still standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

“And I was gonna tell you about the lead I just found.”

This seemingly piques his interest, “What lead?”

For a split second, you consider not telling him as a punishment for being an ass, but honestly, you don’t want to anger him more than necessary.

“Hyeji’s got a dog. I just met her, and we walked them together, so I’m thinking that’s my way in.”

Jeongguk hums, his professionalism taking the lead. “Yeah, that could work. Getting close to her will get you closer to Eunha too.”

“By the way, just so our stories match, should someone ask, I told her that I got Fenrir after a burglary before I met you.”

“What? Who did you tell? Hyeji? Just her?”

Confusion colors your expression, “Yeah, why?”

“Because I told Namjoon, the guy living in twelve, that I got Fenrir.”

You shut your eyes in frustration. “Now why would you do that? And why wouldn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because it’s such a masculine dog, it wouldn’t make sense if he was yours?”

“And why is that?”

“Look, stop being a feminazi for once. He doesn’t fit your character. Sure you’re not this sweet, pretty girl in real life, but that’s who you’re trying to be here, right? It makes more sense that he’s mine.”

You press your lips together. It shouldn’t hurt what he thinks of you. “Fine, just tell me if you do something like that again.”

“Fine.”

“And we really need to hurry up and get this over with so we can leave before everything starts to crumble around us.”

You stay inside for most of the day, reluctantly showing Jeongguk the commands you use when walking Fenrir, and even letting him play soccer with him in the backyard. It’s good for your image as a couple, you begrudgingly realize, and if you’re ever confronted about the contradicting backstory of Fenrir, you’ll just say that Jeongguk’s male ego is too fragile to admit that Fenrir’s originally yours.

Stuck inside, you wonder what you’re going to do about the food for the remainder of your stay. Yesterday, you ate what Hyeji and Eunha brought you, even though you were hesitant in case it was poisoned. Since Jeongguk disregarded your warning and seemed fine, you followed his lead.

Although frustrating you beyond belief, you realize that you might as well bite the bullet and cook for the both of you. You don’t really want to provide any type of service for Jeongguk, but at the end of the day, it’s your job. Not to be his maid–cough–wife, but to be undercover and finish this mission.

You hear the sound of paws on the kitchen floor before you hear Jeongguk’s voice.

“You know this is probably the best part so far, Mrs Jeon,” he taunts smugly.

Turning away from the pans on the stove, you roll your eyes. At least he seems to be in a better mood.

“First of all, I’m not a Mrs, and certainly not your Mrs. Secondly, unfortunately I have to eat, and I know you’d use the opportunity to poison me, so I might as well do it.”

“Might as well do what? Poison me?”

“No, idiot, cook. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to because you’re a grown man and surely able to feed yourself? But I don’t have very much reason to poison you. Yes, I hate you with everything in me, but how would I explain your absence? What would I do with your body?”

“Oh, there are probably plenty of things you’d do with my body.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Jeongguk, I don’t want to be anywhere near you, dead or alive.”

“Hmm, let’s say that,” he shrugs.

He does end up eating the food you serve. In a different room from you, of course.

Your heart beats quickly, and your veins are filled with anxiety as you stare at your options of dresses. The fact that even though it was your turn to sleep in the bedroom, you didn’t manage to get a good night’s rest, doesn’t help.

The barbeque is today, in a few hours actually. You haven’t spoken to Jeongguk about what he’s wearing, and you really don’t want to, treasuring the fact that you haven’t seen much of him today so far.

It’s probably best to go for cute and proper, casual yet… elegant? Something not too revealing or form fitting around the chest as well. You sigh, not having put this much effort into your looks in a while. It’s not like you have anyone to impress at work, anyway.

In the end, you settle for a light yellow dress, reaching just below your knees and with a square neckline and short sleeves. It’s cute, you think, as you hold it in your hands. It won’t look its very best on you, but it will have to do. You just hope Jeongguk will keep his mouth shut because you really don’t need it today.

Ten minutes to six, you open the front door with a large oven dish containing food in your hands, Jeongguk right behind you with a case of beer in his hand. The few sentences you’ve exchanged so far were all about the plan, and it’s placed you into some kind of bubble.

Until Jeongguk’s voice breaks you out of it.

“Wait,” he says, hand still on the open door when you turn around.

He’s wearing a dark blue button up shirt, the first two buttons undone, paired with black chino shorts, and it’s incredible how good he looks. The outfit brings out the darkness of his hair and eyes and shows off his impressive physique.

You never thought someone’s knees and calves could be attractive, but that’s obviously the case when it comes to Jeongguk because you’ve found yourself glancing even at those more than once. His whole body is just so… manly. Strong and athletic. And it makes you hurl on the inside how you’re unable to stop your body from appreciating his.

He’s quiet until you take a step closer, looking up at him questioningly. “What?”

“Let your hair down.”

Instinctively, your hand flies up to feel the loose ponytail you put your hair into an hour ago, but you don’t feel any particular bumps or loose strands that would make it look weird.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Glaring at him and his non-informative answer, you shake your head. “No.”

But he doesn’t give up. “Come here,” he instructs, and you’re well aware that people could be watching you, so reluctantly, you decide to listen.

“Just trust me for once,” he looks down at you when you come to stand in front of him. Your heart starts to race when he puts the beer down to lift his hands to your head, taking the hair tie out and letting your hair fall freely. You hate that you know how he smells, and you hate that you like it.

“I don’t trust you,” you state because it’s true. The only reason you’re somewhat going along with him is because you’re outside where your neighbors could see, and they can’t witness you arguing.

If your heart was beating quickly before, it’s nothing compared to what it does when Jeongguk chooses to run his hand through your hair to fix it to how he likes. Being so close to him makes you nervous of meeting his eyes, but when his focus lies elsewhere, you chance a glance at his face.

He looks concentrated and stern, but you notice a mole under his bottom lip that makes his entire face almost… cute. It’s disgusting, really, how kissable his mouth appears.

“It makes you look younger, more care-free,” he explains absentmindedly. “Now, you need to act well, so if you can do me a favor and hide your man-hatred for just one night.”

You hadn’t felt how your eyes had softened just a tad, but you damn well feel the glare return stronger than before.

“Excuse me, I’m a great actress,” you bite in a strained whisper. “A great detective.”

“Let’s just agree to disagree on that one,” he smiles down at you, but it’s sarcastic and full of distaste.

“Fuck you,” you mutter, stepping away from him.

The walk to the Jungs’ is a short one–it really is just on the other side of the street–but you’re clutching the oven dish tightly in your hands the whole time. You begrudgingly realize that Jeongguk is an even better actor than you thought.

As soon as you arrive at the Jungs’ backyard, all attention is on the two of you. The new couple. All in all, there are maybe ten to twelve people gathered, most watching curiously. Jeongguk is quick to hand the beer away and then take the oven dish from you to put it down on a table filled with food and ingredients.

After that, he doesn’t leave your side for the ten minutes it takes for everyone to greet you, his arm resting comfortably around your waist. You try your best to ignore the nerves as you’re basically held against Jeongguk’s firm body, but you’re almost sure he can feel your heartbeat through your clothes.

Remembering what he said before, you throw caution to the wind and place your hand on his abdomen. Jeongguk doesn’t react and only continues to speak with your new “friends,” and you try to act as if having your hand on his firm stomach–moving slightly under your touch with his every movement and breath–is a common occurrence.

“Awh, that’s so romantic,” Wheein exclaims when you once again tell the story of how you and Jeongguk ‘met.’ She and her two friends watch you with heart eyes, but it’s definitely mostly because of your fake husband. If only they knew the evil that resides behind that ridiculous beauty.

“Yeah, and we just knew, right, honey? Right away?”

“Yeah,” you smile up at him, and you’re almost floored by his warm smile.

If you’ve learned anything so far, it’s that you’ve never seen him really smile before coming here, and it’s so convincing. You take notice of how dimples appear on his cheeks and how the corners of his eyes crinkle when he looks the very happiest. It’s almost jarring.

Fortunately, you can’t stay together the whole time, and Jeongguk decides to help out with the meat, seeing it as a chance to get closer to the guys. You, on the other hand, talk with some of the wives. And unsurprisingly, they just really wanna gush about your hunk of a husband.

You nod along to their fawning over Jeongguk until Hyeji calls for them from inside the house. She needs help with the food, and Wheein, cradling her practically newborn baby, holds him out for you.

“You wanna hold him a little bit for me? I’ll be right inside if you need anything, but he’ll most likely just sleep.”

It’s been a while since you held a baby, the latest being your cousin’s daughter, and she’s almost seven now, but you nod. It’ll be nice to not have to listen to Jeongguk’s new admirers for a while. Even nicer not to have to agree with them.

“Uh, sure.”

Gratefully, she hands him over and disappears into the house.

Turns out that Wheein wasn’t lying, and although Doyun isn’t asleep, he’s very calm. You spend another ten minutes easily watching the little baby in your arms, mesmerized by how incredibly adorable he is. He’s got a lot of hair for such a young baby, his entire head covered in black tresses.

“New here?”

When you look up, you’re met with an unfamiliar face. It’s a man, tall and with black hair. He must’ve just arrived.

“Uh, yeah,” you answer, “moved in just a few days ago.”

The man smiles, and you’re hit with how pretty he is, but there’s a… feeling in your stomach.

“I’m Haneul”

“Nice to meet you,” you greet, thankful for the little human occupying your arms and rendering you unavailable for a handshake.

“The pleasure’s all mine, nice to finally have some beautiful new women in town.”

“Oh, uh, I’m flattered, but unfortunately, I’m married,” you smile politely and shift Doyun around to give Haneul a glimpse of your fake ring.

He only glances at it briefly before hitting you with a lazy smirk. “‘Unfortunately,’ huh?”

Fuck.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I love my husband.”

“Is he here?”

“Yeah,” you answer, turning your head to search for your tall, dark-haired husband. But you don’t see him at the grill, and your stomach drops. “Uh, he was there just a moment ago.”

“I see. Listen, I know a lot of husbands can be… lacking… in certain areas, and I’m having a hard time tearing my eyes off you, so I thought I should at least offer, you know?”

You hate men so fucking much, the audacity to come onto you in this manner after you already told him you were happily married? You’d also bet every penny you own that he wouldn’t have made the offer if he saw Jeongguk, because your fake husband–regardless if you’d ever admit it to anyone or even yourself–can be really imposing. He’s tall, strong, and has great posture.

Honestly, they’re probably not even that different, Jeongguk and Haneul. At least they both seem confident and very entitled.

Your pulse races, but not in a good way, and you instinctively take a step back. You can feel the plastic case lying in your bra, but unless it is a real life or death situation, you can’t reach for it.

“Well, I’ll have to decline, and you should probably know that not a lot of husbands would appreciate your offer,” you warn politely, realizing that this is a man who won’t respect a woman’s opinion, but only her male owner’s.

You continue walking backward, smiling nicely just because you know it’s in your best interest not to cause a scene. He follows you, still with his lips pulled into that smirk. “Oh but they don’t need to know.”

Luckily, Jeongguk has returned from wherever he went, talking with the other men–Hoseok included–when you reach him.

He’s looking the other way, not having noticed you as you almost bump into him before hoisting Doyun up and holding him with one arm and carefully snaking your free one around Jeongguk’s.

“This is my husband,” you tell Haneul. At the same time, Jeongguk turns his head questioningly, looking between you and the man.

Truthfully, it hurts you to have to come to him for any sort of help, but you guess you can at least play it off as your cover–Kim Yeji–needing him and not you.

Certainly understanding why you’re suddenly seeking his protection, when you peer up at Jeongguk, you see his stern face observing the other man.

Haneul only smiles apologetically and raises his hands, palms facing you.

You know that Jeongguk’s lack of pleasantries doesn’t mean that he’s angry at the guy–he’s probably only annoyed at you for interrupting his mingling–but Haneul accepts his defeat and leaves anyway. With him gone, you step away from Jeongguk, making sure it’s inconspicuous enough.

In true Jeongguk-manner, he raises his eyebrows minimally at you, but all you do is give a little dismissive wave.

For the few minutes it takes you to make sure Haneul isn’t lingering, you stay in Jeongguk’s proximity. Although keeping his confused aura whenever he peers over at you, there aren’t any opportunities for him to ask, and the other beer-drinking men keep him busy.

Soon enough, you find yourself at the border between the Jungs’ and the Choi’s yards, sitting down on the low stone wall dividing them. Doyun is wide awake but so well behaved and calm that he might as well have been knocked out, and you don’t even try to keep your eyes off him.

It’s not until someone sits down beside you that you look up. Surprisingly, you breathe out in relief when the brown eyes you meet belong to Jeongguk. Who would’ve thought you’d ever be relieved to see him?

“It’s going well, but unfortunately, I haven’t found out anything else of importance,” he updates you.

Realistically, you’ve always known you wouldn't be able to solve the case in an afternoon, but realizing you might be stuck here for longer than you expected makes your heart sink.

It’s quiet for a moment. Something about this cute little being on your lap lessens your anger, and you’re forced to realize that there’s just no point in overworking your heart at the moment. You can’t run, and there’s nowhere for you to hide.

“Isn’t he the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” you ask quietly, focusing on the little being that’s still pure.

As if he didn’t see the tiny baby before, Jeongguk peers over into your lap. “Hmm, he’s pretty cute.”

Hit by another realization, you turn your head to first look at Jeongguk and then Doyun again.

“Do you have something to tell me?”

You can practically feel Jeongguk’s confusion. “What?”

“I mean, he a hundred percent looks like he could be yours,” you smile a small smile, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you think it’s mostly genuine. If someone told you two weeks ago that you’d try to make light conversation, joke even, with Jeongguk, you would’ve laughed at the insanity.

But, of course, no good deed goes unpunished, and the peace is short-lived.

“So you think I’m cute?”

“That’s definitely not what I said,” you scoff, not even sparing Jeongguk a glance.

“But it is what you meant.”

You grow quiet, not feeling a fight but unable to lie at the moment. Jeongguk just needs to ruin everything not already terrible, doesn’t he?

“So you do?”

“Jeongguk,” you sigh, holding the little boy’s hand, “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you you’re handsome.”

“No, but it’s always nice to hear,” he says, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “But honestly, you’re right, he does look a lot like me. I’m pretty sure I looked exactly like that when I was a baby.”

For some reason, you find the irritation slowly melting away once more. You’re just tired of always being angry with him, and since he’s not terribly mean at the moment, you guess you can allow yourself a little break. It’s not like he’s going to insult you and your family and then bash your head in with a rock in front of all the neighbors.

“It’s the nose, right? And the eyes—yours are also really round.”

“Yeah.”

You watch as Jeongguk offers his hand and as Doyun grips his finger. The vision of his large, tattooed hand being held by this tiny little one ignites just a little bit of warmth in your chest.

“That guy… what was up with him?”

You tear your eyes from the cuteness in front of you to peer at the side of Jeongguk’s face. He seems curious.

“I don’t know, he…”

But you just don’t have the energy to start anything. Telling Jeongguk about how men never respect you and how you hate the way they only stop when there’s another man involved will only make him roll his eyes and call you a man-hating lesbian.

Besides, even if you think Haneul was interested in you in some way or another, you can’t tell Jeongguk that either. Although you’re well aware that men frequently only show “interest” to prove their power over you as a woman, Jeongguk will only retort that you’re being negative. He’d call you self-centered for thinking that Haneul wanted something because how would someone that pretty possibly be interested in you?

So you don’t continue your sentence. Neither does Jeongguk.

A moment passes before he places his hands on his knees. “Well, I’m gonna head back to the guys and keep trying.”

“Yeah, me too. They’ll probably be back soon,” you nod toward the house.

Jeongguk nods as well, “Good luck, then.”

“You too.”

The food is delicious, even if you do wait to take the first bite until everyone else has, just in case. You’re seated at the end of the table, Jeongguk on the short side with the corner between you.

It’s more difficult than you would like to admit to find a balance in eye contact, or just any contact, really.

Ideally, you’d prefer to pretend he doesn’t exist, but he does, and you can’t seem too avoidant or there will be suspicions.

On the other hand, if you look too much at him, he’ll for sure call you out on your obsessive behavior later, and you don't want to give him any more ammunition than he already has. He really doesn’t need to know that you don’t think you’ve ever seen a man as handsome as him before.

Hyeji sits on your left side, turning to you often but otherwise talking animatedly to her husband Yoongi on her other side.

Jeongguk speaks a bit with his neighbor too, but it’s not someone of importance–Hyeji’s visiting cousin. You don’t know her name but she doesn’t hide how interested she is in your “husband.” Which sort of makes you unreasonably irritated. Or maybe it isn’t so unreasonable since it makes you feel disrespected. For what she knows, Jeongguk is yours.

Luckily for you–for the mission–Jeongguk only interacts with her in a clearly platonic way, no too joyous smiles or any touches at all. Just small talk.

If it were up to you, you would’ve preferred going through the evening without as much as another word to your partner, leaving him to talk to whoever he wants, but there’s one thing that makes the hair on your arms stand up. One man.

Hoseok.

He sits on the other side of the long, rectangular table, approximately five seats away. He’s too far away for you or Jeongguk to really speak to, but that in itself doesn’t bother you too much because you don’t want to risk coming on too strong, anyway.

What does bother you is the curious, even inspective way he turns his head to look at you. He’s a handsome man, with dark brown eyes and hair and sun-kissed skin, but he makes cold shivers run down your spine.

Without meeting his eyes, you try to appear confident and like your new friends are demanding all your attention, but whenever Hyeji turns away, you’re left to your husband.

In an attempt to at least look like you enjoy having him on this earth, you place your hand on top of his that’s resting on the table. Not executed in the smoothest way possible–a little bumpy–you still think it looks somewhat genuine.

At the action, Jeongguk turns his head to face you, but you’re already turning yours away, this time asking Hyeji where she grew up and ready to tell your own made-up childhood story. To your surprise, you feel Jeongguk turn his hand over and intertwine your fingers, and for quite some time, your hands remain like that.

“Hi! Good to get away from the others for a bit, right?”

You match Hyeji’s grin as you come to stand before her, Fenrir and her dog, Bubbles, sniffing each other.

“Yeah, I just zone out when they start talking about sports,” you chuckle, referring to the few couples still at the Jungs’, and particularly the men. “They’re so passionate about it, too?”

“Oh, definitely! Does Jaehyun invite his friends to watch important games? Or just… all the games?” she laughs, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her in the chilly night air and taking the lead on the sidewalk.

You call for Fenrir’s attention and follow Hyeji. “Yeah, not all the games, and they’re not always at ours, but yeah, they can’t seem to watch anything alone, can they?”

“No, meanwhile I just watch my series with Bubbles, but he’s so much better company than Yoongi, honestly.”

“I can relate to that! How old is Bubbles, by the way?”

“He’ll be seven in December, so almost an old man,” she smiles fondly down at the dog who stops to pee on a neighbor’s fence. “Oops,” Hyeji smiles childishly. “What about Fenrir? How old is he?”

“He’s five.”

“He’s so big,” she marvels over the dog that dwarfs her maltese.

“Yeah. He’s made me feel a lot safer since… what happened.”

“I get that. I’m sorry that happened to you, it must’ve been awful. But at least you’ve got Fenrir and your husband too now to protect you.”

You almost laugh at the irony. If someone broke into your fake home, Jeongguk would probably serve you up on a silver platter for the burglars to take you. He’d interrupt them, only to happily offer them a knife and remind them to really stab you through the heart before they leave.

“Jaehyun is… strong and all, but I honestly think he’s a little too relaxed,” you complain, appearing worried. “Speaking of security, we’re looking to install a home alarm, but we’re not sure which one to get. Do you have any recommendations? Since you also have a dog?”

“Oh, of course! I can’t remember the name of our model, but I remember that one of our criterias was that there are no motion sensors because even though Bubbles mostly sleeps while we’re gone, we really don’t want him to trigger the alarm.”

“Exactly. So we’re looking at an alarm with just door and window sensors?”

“Yeah. I’ll look up the name of ours but I’d honestly recommend getting another brand because we have so little time to enter the code from the moment we unlock the door that it gives me half a heart attack every time.”

You chuckle at the dramatic way she clutches at her heart. “Oh, yeah, that would stress me out too.”

She tilts her head curiously. “How is Fenrir inside when he’s alone? Is he destructive?”

“No, he’s pretty good. He can bark a bit if he hears something outside and he can paw at the door sometimes, but he leaves furniture and such alone.”

“That’s good. He’s not on the windows, then?”

You pretend to think about it, already knowing that Fenrir’s very well behaved and absolutely never up to anything bad whenever he’s alone. “Hm, not that I know of? Maybe if he sees something, I’m sure he could bark and press his nose against it.”

“I’m just asking because I know you can choose an alarm that has window sensors but disable it for specific windows. Did you know that Eunha’s got a cat? He sits at this one window day in and day out, looking at the birds, but if he sees a squirrel in the tree outside, he goes crazy and basically tries to claw his way through the window.”

“Oh, really?” you exclaim curiously, grinning victoriously on the inside.

“Yeah, and their alarm isn’t connected to any kind of first responders or security company just because he sometimes decides to smash his head into any of the other windows too.”

Hyeji laughs and you chuckle along as well, although, you can definitely think of a few more reasons that the Jungs wouldn’t want any sort of authorities visiting their house.

“It just sends alerts and activates their inside cameras. Which is good if there’s a risk that your pet triggered it.”

“Oh, so you can check for yourself? That sounds smart. I’ll look into it with Jaehyun. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

To say that you get back to the Jungs’ with a little extra determination in your step is an understatement.

Jeongguk is still sitting outside at the table with the guys, their passionate voices talking about various sports and athletes sound through the summer night air. The sun set quite some time ago, the tables now only lit by candles and strings of fairy lights hanging from the few trees.

Your discovery lies heavy on your tongue, and you want to tell Jeongguk as soon as possible. He doesn’t notice you and Hyeji walking back to the table until you’re standing at his side. They’re all looking so relaxed, leaning back in the rattan armchairs.

“Hey, uh, honey? I think I’m gonna head back home. It’s getting late, and I’m getting tired.”

He looks up at you and then to Fenrir who sits behind you patiently.

“Oh, already?”

You can tell by his eyes that he wants to stay to work on his own connections, but you feel like the best tactic is to take it slowly and not push too much. Additionally, you’ve already found a huge lead.

The voices are still loud as Jeongguk’s new friends discuss a particular game from five years ago, a few of the remaining wives having gathered at the other end of the table and talking animatedly to each other about something. Hyeji joins them with Bubbles on her lap.

So you make sure no one’s watching too closely, and you lean down.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper in Jeongguk’s ear.

He pulls back to look at you questioningly, still reluctant to leave so you gesture with your hand for him to lean back in.

“I think I found our way in.”

But the moment after you say it, your gaze travels carefully over the other neighbors and lands on the eyes of Hoseok himself. He’s watching you with something unclear in his gaze.

In a slight panic, you recall the chief’s words, and with no time to second guess yourself, you slide your hand down Jeongguk’s chest, mindlessly toying with the first thing you feel, which happens to be the third button. It’s the first one that’s actually buttoned, and perhaps unfortunately, it accidentally opens under your touch.

“He’s watching,” you explain quietly but rushed into Jeongguk’s ear, and to make sure your act is believable, you press your lips against his cheek and with your other hand coming up on the other side of his face from behind, you tangle your fingers carefully in his hair.

Truthfully, you don’t think Jeongguk minds, otherwise you would’ve definitely been more careful. Well, he’ll probably spend an hour in the shower when you get back, scrubbing his body free from your touch, but he allows it, even encourages it since it’s vital to the mission.

Along with what the chief said about needing to look in love, Jeongguk’s own words from the first day ring in your head.

“Touch me like you love me”

Or something like that. So you definitely have his permission.

What shouldn’t surprise you but still does is when he raises his hand to cover yours on his chest, sliding it to the side, underneath the fabric of his half-open shirt.

You let out a shaky breath against the side of his face, hoping, most likely in vain, that he doesn’t notice. His hand is warm over yours, and his chest under your palm is too. The heartbeat you feel is just your own, pulsing through your entire body and to your hand, not his, even though your hand is basically right above it. You honestly aren’t sure he has a heart.

Although knowing you’d see more of him than you ideally wanted, you wouldn’t have guessed that you’d essentially be feeling him up in public like this, but honestly, his body isn’t the problem.

Somewhere in your mind, you’re already dreading having to sooner or later look him in the eye.

Surprising you even more, you feel his other arm wrap around your waist, somehow tugging you, gasping, onto his lap.

Ending up sitting sideways over his thighs, you decide to make the best out of the situation and look relaxed, leaning back against him. You don’t check if Hoseok’s still watching, but you’d rather play it safe than make him suspect something.

“Did I tell you how pretty you look today? My little wife.”

You try your best to conceal your surprise, but you still feel your eyes widen a tad at Jeongguk’s quiet words. And of course, your cheeks start to heat up even more than before.

Yeah, you guess that Hoseok must still be watching.

Looking at Jeongguk, meeting his eyes, you almost lose your breath and the leash still grasped in your hand. You get why the chief sent him.

Jeongguk is probably the officer that hates you the most out of everyone, yet he has no problem gazing up at you like you're his entire world. It’s not that much of a surprise that he’s a god damn talented actor because he’s just good at everything.

You’re in no position to do anything but play along, and you don’t really want to admit it to yourself, but after today and at that specific moment, it doesn’t seem that terrible.

At first, you’re extremely aware of every little area where you and him are touching, even through your clothes. You’re aware of your breathing and his–both slow and calm, but his feeling just a tad bit more naturally unaffected than yours.

But his embrace is soft yet sturdy, and he has the audacity to slowly and softly rub your back and sometimes your shoulder. Ten minutes pass just like that.

And you’re tired. So incredibly exhausted. You’ve barely slept at all, and strangely enough, you don’t feel threatened at the moment despite being surrounded by dangerous people.

So you drift off. Right then and there, in the arms of the man that despises your very being–your head resting right by his neck–and in the backyard of one of the country’s most accomplished robbers. One of them will for sure be the death of you, and you don't think it will be Hoseok.

<3<3<3

1K notes · View notes

connieluvsr · 7 months

Text

dextrocardia | 01

Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, smut

word count: 5.3k

warnings (serious):a ton of sexist (police) men (jk included), there will be different kinds of assault in later parts, more specified warnings will come but probably don't read if you have traumas and feel bad reading about stuff like that

warnings (less serious): jk is hawt. tattooed, strong police man who dislikes wearing shirts, also he's mean :(

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 1/?

The station is filled with the familiar scent of coffee and the comforting sound of printers, small talk, and footsteps.

Some mornings, it reminds you more of a typical office than a police station, your own two feet contributing to the sounds as you walk along with the chief, careful to keep your distance from the tall man even when some of the hallways are a tad bit too narrow.

"And since a neighbor just moved out, we've decided that there's an invaluable chance here.”

You hum, feeling the male officers' snarky gazes and eye rolls as you reach the office space where they all sit, their desks organized into landscapes. To say that you’re not very liked in these parts of the station is an understatement.

“What about my current case? The–”

"–It’s on hold for now. We're gonna have to move quickly, so you'll be shipped out in a few days. Move in next door to the Jungs and hopefully solve this thing once and for all. I've already picked out an officer to go with you."

There’s no time for you to ask questions before the chief opens the dark wooden door located at the back of the room and motions for you to enter his personal office first.

You do, but the sight of what’s inside nearly causes you to stop and the chief to bump into you from behind. The sight of who’s inside.

Jeon.

“Are you kidding,” you hear him mutter under his breath, and it’s obviously not because he’s so elated that his detective is you. No, it’s because he despises you.

Disgusted eyes burn holes in the side of your face as you follow the chief's command and sit down next to your colleague from another division.

The tension definitely doesn't go unnoticed, but Jeon Jeongguk isn't an exception; you know that all male officers feel more or less the same way about you. It's the reason that the tension goes unmentioned and why you’d hoped for your usual female detective partner to sit there.

"Where's Jihyo? I assumed we'd work together as usual," you question, ignoring your own annoyance and the immature man next to you, who you know is doing his best to let you know just how much you appall him purely by facial expression.

"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."

"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.

Spouses. Not only has the chief dismissed a really important case that you’ve been trying to get flying for a long time, but you’re supposed to play… spouses? Unfortunately, you know better than to anger the chief more than necessary, so you focus on suffocating the most urgent fire.

"I'm sure that's not needed," you argue calmly, attempting to sound like the more mature one in the room. "One of us could go alone, or I could go with Sana? People are much more accepting of same-sex couples nowadays."

"Of course, you man-hating lesbian."

"Oh, grow up, you fucking child,” you bite in Jeon’s direction before returning your hopeful (and desperate) eyes to the chief. “She and I could be roommates? Cousins?"

"Stop it," the chief warns half a second before you can suggest acquaintances, and it’s easy to see that the slightly above middle-aged man feels like he's talking to two preschoolers.

"Look, I'm not going to argue about this. We don't send anyone out alone, you know that,” he berates lazily from behind his desk with a pen pointed in your direction.Rumor has it that he’s set to retire in a few months, and you’re sure he’s looking forward to it more than ever at that moment.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You two are newly-weds, moving in basically across from the Jungs. It's a bit of a religious neighborhood, but like, weirdly so, so you'll be a housewife and Jeon a lawyer. It allows you to stay home during the days to get to know the neighbors, and Jeon can say he's taken a week or two off to help settle in."

Your jaw clenches as the details keep coming, and you know, without even looking, that even if he’s just as upset as you are, at least your "professions" are amusing to Jeongguk. He’s probably even smirking.

“What about him then?” you question, nodding toward Jeongguk while keeping eye contact with the chief, “He’s got his whole arm covered in tattoos, won’t that be a problem?”

“No, a lot of the suspects have them too, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, so it’s only a trip back in time for women, got it,” you seethe. It can't get any worse than this.

The chief ignores your comment, "Look, this is what we've deemed the most inconspicuous; a young, married, heterosexual couple. You'll blend right in, and being recently married, it'll give you an excuse to seem a little… distant."

You understand perfectly well what he’s implying, but you can't help but question it. "And what does that mean?"

The chief sighs and lowers his head a little, "It means that you two need to put on your happy faces and act like you're madly in love and like keeping your hands off each other is harder than the donuts Officer Kim brings on Tuesdays. That way, sneaking off together and whispering in each other’s ears, as well as a missed neighborhood barbeque or two, might go unnoticed. Or at least seem… well, inconspicuous."

A scoff sounds from beside you. "I don't get why I have to be the one to go with her? Isn't there another detective to do all that pretend lovey-dovey shit with her?"

Apparently, that's the thing that really upsets Jeongguk, and even though you find him self-centered and immature, it still hurts a little to know that even fake being in love with you is unmentionable.

"No. Like I said, I won't argue. Time is of the essence here; I need a man and a woman that can pass as a couple and work together. You're a great officer, and she's a great detective."

"You sure about that? And what about my safety, then? I don't want to "accidentally" get shot because I'm a man and she feels inferior to me!"

Ah, there it is. The reason you're so insanely disliked. A mission ends with a gunshot wound to the thigh of your former detective partner–now officer and Jeon’s best friend–and suddenly everything’s your fault and everyone’s turned against you. It wasn’t your fault, and it’s not like you ever wanted or planned for it to end that way!

For the first time, you turn your head to really look at the man beside you, your glare powered by years of anger and frustration. His face is flushed, revealing just how irritated this whole ordeal is making him.

In another universe, one in which men don't have personalities, you'd for sure want him. There's no denying the attractiveness that oozes from him, but masculinity is both a blessing and a curse.

He's gorgeous, raven hair parted to expose his just as dark eyebrows and his forehead. He’s got cheekbones and a jaw from another world, and it looks like he's wearing the black pants of his uniform but has foregone the shirt in favor of a dark blue sweatshirt with the police academy's print on it. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his veiny forearms–one of which tattooed– and hands are on display, and it's hot.

He's hot. Intimidating and hot.

But he's also so… mean. So spoiled and entitled and just such a man. It’s been less than a year, maybe eight months or so, since he transferred from another district, and during those months, you've never spoken more than a few sentences to each other.

Still, you’ve known of him since before he even put his foot in the building, his reputation preceding him. Unfortunately, he's one of the best officers to grace this part of the country in a long time; his accomplishments piling up like golden trophies.

It's harder to measure for a field officer, still, the dude has an unbelievable rate of cleared and successful cases, surprisingly few complaints made against him, and the fitness competitions held every year among the officers are just another opportunity for him to improve his previous impressive record. He could probably bench five times your bodyweight and kick in whichever steel-reinforced door he wants. Everything turns to gold underneath his skilled fingertips, and it makes it all exponentially worse.

Perhaps he deserves some of the praise, but you still stand by the fact that Jeongguk is spoiled and entitled and just such a man. Almost all the males inside this building are. Pumped full of the worst kind of drug, produced by their own body—testosterone—and you're so fucking tired of it.

Before you can defend yourself, bite back that he needs to shut the fuck up, you're interrupted.

"She's still not allowed to carry,” the chief clarifies calmly. “You've done mostly field, and she's done investigating. You'll work together, combine your strengths and eliminate your weaknesses. Okay?"

"Fine," you huff, "but I'm bringing my dog."

When you leave the room—Jeongguk exiting behind you only to be greeted by another male officer—you hear it.

“You’ll put her in her place, right, Jeon? Put an end to all of this and show her it’s a man’s world she’s living in?”

“Of course,” he replies just as confidently, “I’ll show her.”

And you know you might as well start writing your will.

Three days later, you’re sulking in the passenger seat of a sleek black car, being driven by none other than Jeon Jeongguk himself. It’s not his personal car, and it for sure doesn’t belong to you; yours is still at the repair shop where it’s been for faulty brakes three times in the last six months.

You wanted to drive, but apparently, your fake new neighbors are so sexist that you can’t be seen stepping out of a car after driving your “husband” around. Because everyone knows driving is a man’s job, right?

Jeongguk has a big suitcase in the backseat. You have two, one containing clothes and whatever you need for your stay and another that holds food and other dog stuff. In the actual trunk, inside a crate–because you value his safety over everything–your Doberman sits.

You don’t know much about the house except that it’s big and mostly empty. The basic furniture has apparently already been moved there yesterday, but the rest of “your” furniture and possessions are scheduled to arrive within the next few days.

Ideally, you’ll manage to solve the case before the moving trucks pull up, sparing you the work of hauling heavy objects inside when you know it’s just for show and that someone’s gonna want them back eventually. If that happens anyway, you’re already contemplating leaving it to Jeongguk since he wants to be the man so badly. He’s obviously not happy about being partnered with you, but it at least brings him joy to see you have it worse. Except for having to be around you, he’s living the dream, getting to be a lawyer and have a housewife to be serviced by.

Among the chief's instructions is a dress code, and so today, Jeongguk is wearing black slacks and a white, crispy button-up shirt while you’re wearing a dark blue off-the-shoulder sundress. Unsurprisingly, you need to look put-together at all times which makes you hate your new fake neighbors even before meeting them. Well, a few of them are suspected to be some of the most successful bank robbers in the country’s history, but besides that.

The thought makes you huff quietly, and even with your gaze out the windshield, you see from the corner of your eye how Jeongguk glances at you. Probably giving you more of a glare, if you’re being honest.

There hasn’t been much going on conversation-wise either. The arguing of who was to drive happened an hour ago, and after that, you’ve laid a few comments on his choice of roads, and he’s answered them with just as much attitude as you’ve muttered them. You see this adventure ending in one or two ways–you and Jeongguk becoming friends isn’t one of them.

At five p.m., you pull up in front of your new house, and at first glance, it’s lovely. The entire neighborhood is. Big, pristine houses painted in white with green, mowed lawns and backyards, and white Picket fences. Your house is no different.

When the engine’s silenced and the key in Jeongguk’s right palm, you start feeling nervous. But you can’t let him know, so you focus on the task at hand.

Your hands are a little sweaty, and to lessen the tremors, your fingers play with the diamond on your ring finger. It’s fake, but they’re done so well these days that even a professional would have a hard time differentiating. There’s a ring decorating Jeongguk’s finger too, a gold wedding band that you have to admit really suits his brand.

Another thing he has with him is a gun, something you’re not allowed. But joke’s on anyone who thinks you’d willingly go unarmed. You have razor blades with you, sometimes a blade lies in your bra, protected in a plastic case. Other times, it’s strapped to your thigh. Like now.

As soon as you open the car door and step out with a fake smile on your face, you head to the trunk to get Fenrir. It’s unnerving how you can see your closest neighbors peeking out through their windows already, and you know instantly what kind of neighborhood this is. The brown Doberman jumps out, wagging his undocked tail and stretching after the drive.

“Since people are watching,” you hear Jeongguk from behind you. When you turn around, you almost lose your breath.

As he’s grabbing your bags to carry them inside, he’s wearing a smile that looks so incredibly genuine you’re almost left speechless. But of course, you can tell by his gritted words that he’d gladly let you carry them yourself if there weren’t witnesses. Actually, if no one was around to see, he’d probably just deck you with one of them.

“Fuck you, I can bring them myself,” you mutter through a sweet smile of your own, head tilted slightly.

“Just go inside before anyone can come here and start interrogating us, we still have things to go through.”

“Fine,” you snap, and together with Fenrir, you walk toward the entrance, unlocking it.

Jeongguk isn’t far behind, dumping your bags by the door that he closes behind him before turning to you.

You’ve gone through a few things regarding your disguise, but a lot of details still need to be agreed on.

Jeongguk is Kim Jaehyun and you’re Kim Yeji, high school sweethearts that married just a few months ago. The honeymoon was set in Paris at Jeongguk’s request, making you roll your eyes at the laziness. Jaehyun is just such a romantic.

But only a few minutes after the door is closed, a gentle but firm knock is placed on it. You exchange somewhat panicked looks with Jeongguk before inhaling and exhaling deeply and reaching for the door.

On the other side, dressed in colorful blouses and flowy skirts and with a plastic container each, two women stand.

“Hi,” you start, trying to channel your shy but polite inner housewife.

“Hello! Welcome to the neighborhood!” one exclaims happily, nudging the other subtly with her elbow.

“Yes, hello! Such a surprise to see new neighbors already! I’m Jung Eunha and this is Min Hyeji, we live just across the street. Or at least I do, Hyeji is your next door neighbor!” she nods toward the other woman.

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you,” you greet, hoping that the discomfort behind your smile isn’t visible. “I’m Kim Yeji, and this is my husband Jaehyun.”

Improvising, you turn around hastily and go to… well, touch him somehow, but he’s closer than you expected and so your hand bumps into his shoulder, and you just… keep it there somewhat awkwardly before slowly dropping it.

“Nice to meet you,” Jeongguk starts, his focus laying beyond you. “Yeah, we’ve been looking for a new home for a while, and when we saw this, we just fell in love immediately. Such potential and with a really nice neighborhood.”

“Yes,” Hyeji smiles proudly, “Perfect for when you get little ones!”

You feel yourself hurling on the inside, disgusted by the thought of having kids with someone as vile as Jeongguk, but he manages to keep his cool even though you assume he’s taken by surprise as well. How can they already know that you don’t have children? Unless they really supervised your entire arrival?

“Yeah, we’re not really there yet, but I agree; it’ll be perfect for our future kids, right, honey?”

He looks down at you. They all look at you.

Honey.

“Oh, yeah, absolutely!” you smile, trying to blink away the image of your archnemesis gazing at you so fondly. You would’ve never guessed it, but when they’re not overflowing with murderous disgust, Jeon Jeongguk has the prettiest brown eyes. Soft, brown eyes.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you, but we gotta run. Here are some cookies,” Eunha excuses, taking a step closer to push her container in your hands. Hyeji follows, stacking hers on top. “We’ll see you around soon!”

And then, they’re gone, and the door’s closed.

You remain silent for a moment, just to make sure no one’s lingering and hearing stuff they’re not supposed to.

“Dude, what was that?” Jeongguk asks, and when you meet his eyes this time, the softness is gone, traded back for that familiar hatred.

“What?” you question with an irritated whisper, still paranoid the women might stand with their ears pressed against the door.

“I thought you were supposed to be a good actress?! Yet you touched me like I was your new colleague? ‘H-hi, I’m K-kim Y-yeji and th-this is m-my husband J-Jaehyun.’”

“Shut the fuck up,” you grit, walking away to place the containers on the kitchen counter.

“Maybe you don’t understand, I wouldn’t expect you to, but we need them to believe us. Either you touch me like you love me or you don’t touch me at all.”

After a few more digs at each other, you split up. Jeongguk disappears somewhere further into the house while you unpack Fenrir’s bowls, the gifted containers left on the counter. The big dog follows you closely to the kitchen sink, propping his snout in between you and the counter and hoping you’ll fill his bowl with something tasty.

“No food now,” you explain, setting the water-filled bowl down in an appropriate spot in the kitchen. “There you go, you must be thirsty.”

Although surely disappointed, Fenrir sniffs at the bowl before lapping at the water. You take a step back, watching him with a crease of worry between your eyebrows.

This whole arrangement has you incredibly nervous. You’re used to spying on people and such, but it’s usually just... observing. Many times, you’re seated inside a car with binoculars, or you’re tailing someone through the mall. Rarely, you even have to talk to the suspects, and now? You’re living next door to them, trying to get to know them.

You don’t even know what’s worse; living in the house next to your enemy, or living with your enemy. For all you know, Jeongguk might suffocate you in your sleep with a pillow over your face before the armed robbers even get the chance at taking you out.

“You’re the only man I can trust,” you coo, scratching Fenrir behind his ear when he approaches, a few leftover water drops making it onto your dress.

But with a sigh, you accept the fact that you’re stranded in the house for the coming days, and so you might as well follow your partner’s lead and look around.

It’s a nice house, you conclude. Not the very biggest, but still spacious enough. On the ground floor, there’s the kitchen, a dining area, and living room, all equipped with the basic necessities.

The dining area has a large dining table and eight chairs surrounding it, and the living room harbors a huge, gray couch and a very nice wooden coffee table. A wooly blanket hangs over one of the armrests, and a huge tv is mounted on the wall opposite the couch.

What you don’t necessarily like is the fact that it’s... open. There aren’t really any separating walls except for around the kitchen, which means that if you need to hide from someone, you can’t. Well, maybe you can lock yourself in the bathroom, and hopefully, the bedrooms also have doors with locks.

The stairs creak a little under your feet, and you definitely take notice of it as you climb them to check out what’s upstairs.

To your surprise, the first thing you see is Jeongguk’s back. Confusion sets in as you watch him. He’s looking inside one of the two bedrooms, frozen with his hand on the handle.

You approach carefully, not sure you want to one; be so close to him, and two; know what’s gotten him so... confused? Confounded? Surprised?

Maintaining as much distance as possible, you peek inside. But it’s just a room? You can’t see the entirety of it since you’re not about to squeeze yourself through the doorway with Jeongguk still in it, but it looks… normal? Nice, actually.

There’s a queen-sized bed placed against the cream colored wall, drowned in beige linen bedding with an oak nightstand on each side. On the opposite side, to your left, there are doors leading to a built-in closet, an oak dresser, and a gray, empty plant pot, standing in the corner.

“You... like this one, or…?” you turn your head to glance toward the other door, leading to the other, unexplored, bedroom.

You don’t want to let him choose before you’ve seen both because you know he’d rather die than give you the better one without a fight, and you’re not about to sleep in a bed covered in rat shit or something.

But before you can even walk toward that other door, Jeongguk opens his mouth.

“Yeah, well I have to, since this is the only room with a bed.”

At his surprisingly casual words, your heart drops. No. That can’t be true. Your steps are quick, and when you glide the door open, you curse to yourself. The room is empty, completely barren.

With your hand still on the handle, you turn your head toward Jeongguk, horrified. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“And you think I’d wanna fuck that?” he snaps, eyeing your body with disgust.

You hate him, you really fucking hate him, and you wish his words didn’t mean anything to you, but they do. The dress you’re wearing makes you uncomfortable, it makes you feel vulnerable under his gaze, and you wish you were allowed to wear your own comfortable clothes and not the ones given to you.

It’s beautiful, it really is, but you loathe that it leaves your shoulders, arms, and lower legs exposed. You hate that you’re supposed to be pretty for your ‘husband’ and even other men, and you hate that they always have to look, that they have to judge. Your value as a woman lies in the way you look, you learned that at a young age just like everyone else, and you hate it. You just don’t wanna be perceived.

Despite already being well aware that the number of men willing to date you would be close to zero—if you’d even want to date, that is—you feel like he’s stabbed you right through the heart.

It especially hurts because he’s so goddamn beautiful, so of course, you respond with the usual anger. “I didn’t mean it like that, you fucking idiot, but yeah, the feeling’s mutual.”

Briefly, you see how Jeongguk rolls his eyes before he lets go of the door and steps back. “So what do we do? I’m not sleeping next to you; I heard you carry a knife wherever you go.”

Well, it’s not technically a knife, but he might as well continue believing that. “Yeah, well there are men everywhere I go? And don’t tell me you’re stupid enough to believe I’d come here unarmed?” you question. How many brain cells does he have? One? “And there’s a couch, so I suggest one of us just takes that.”

You glare at each other. He knows, just as well as you do, that no one is going to volunteer. “Fine. We’ll take turns.”

Sleeping on a couch isn’t necessarily the worst thing that could happen, you just don’t want to sleep out in the living room and feel so exposed and vulnerable. But you’re also tired, fighting with Jeongguk has taken so much of your energy already, and by the looks of it—of him—he’s not gonna give in very easily.

You sigh and roll your eyes, “Fine, you can take the first night.”

He smirks victoriously, immediately going downstairs to retrieve his suitcase to unpack his clothes. Since a neighbor could visit literally any second, you need to be able to keep the act up inside the house as well, and so, as soon as Jeongguk is finished unpacking his clothes, you bring yours. And you hate seeing them hang next to his in the closet, just like you hate him.

Just a few hours after your arrival, there are more knocks on your front door. You’re upstairs when you hear it, descending the stairs to see Jeongguk at the door, talking to one of the women from earlier with a small bouquet in his hand. Eunha.

“We’d love it if—oh, hello again!” she greets when you come to stand next to him. “I was just telling your husband about the barbeque we’re throwing on Saturday! You’re more than welcome to join us if you want. Get to know your neighbors and all that,” she smiles excitedly.

“Well, we can’t pass up an opportunity like that,” Jeongguk chuckles, “Right, honey?”

You’ll never get used to it. The way he looks down at you so fondly, with warm brown eyes and a sweet smile. It both melts your heart and sends an ice cold shiver down your spine.

“Yeah, no, of course,” you smile, looking forward as you try to ignore Jeongguk wrapping his arm around your waist.

Meanwhile Eunha just watches the two of you with heart eyes, smiling when you meet her gaze. “We’ll bring meat of some kind, some... chicken? Maybe?”

“Great idea, and some beer,” Jeongguk adds, finally tearing his eyes from the side of your face. You breathe out. He’s just so intimidating, no less when he’s as close as he is, his disguised scrutinizing gaze on your face and his warm hand on your waist.

“Great, see you then!” she nods, taking a few steps back.

“See you, and thanks again for the flowers,” Jeongguk grins before closing the door and thrusting the bouquet in your hands.

“Excuse me?”

“Be of use and trim the stems and put them in water.”

“There are few people ruder than you, Jeon Jeongguk,” you hiss quietly. “Very few people I hate more.”

“It’s not as if you’re very liked, so go ahead,” he scoffs.

Asshole, you think, but still move toward the kitchen with the flowers in hand. They’re actually very pretty, and you turn the bouquet around to admire them. You’re not very familiar with the different sorts of flowers, and the only kind you can identify are daisies. They’re blended together with other kinds in a variety of colors and sizes. There are light yellow ones, pink ones, and a few tall, blue ones. You especially like those blue ones.

Trim the stems and put them in water, Jeongguk said. You open a drawer in search of some scissors and find a pair that looks like they could get the job done.

Then you start cutting. It’s harder than you thought; the stems are much thicker and the scissors aren’t sharp enough.

What you don’t notice is Jeongguk, standing behind you and peering down over your shoulder.

“Oh my God, step aside,” he exclaims in annoyance, making you jump. Before you know it, he’s grabbed a knife from a drawer and pushed you to the side. “Have you never gotten flowers or what?”

You back away, scissors lowered uselessly. “Shut the fuck up, you idiot.”

“So, you haven’t?” he taunts, “I don’t know why I’m surprised, flowers are for pretty girls after all.”

Lips pressed together in frustration and humiliation, you watch his back as he finishes the job, clearly happy with his remarks.

You hate it so much, how there’s nothing for you to retort with. Jeon Jeongguk is gorgeous, he’s smart, and he’s talented. He learns a new skill in the blink of an eye, and can get anyone to like him. And the worst part is that he’s very aware of it. He knows he’s unmatched, and there’s nothing you can say that would hurt him.

“I hope you get kicked so hard in the balls that they rupture.”

Jeongguk winces slightly at your words, not long before he rummages through another cupboard and produces a glass vase to store the flowers in. “Rough,” he comments, and you roll your eyes.

“By the way, you know that dress looks horrible on you? You don’t have the tits for it.”

You swallow, feeling your heart break further and your confidence that’s already ninety percent anger, crumble. You feel even uglier around him than usual, humiliated to have to be perceived.

More than anything, you wish that you could just rip your clothes out of that closet, stuff them into your suitcase, take Fenrir, and go the fuck home, but you can’t. You know you’re one misstep away from being fired, and you wouldn’t exactly get the best of recommendation letters with as much shit as you’ve accidentally stirred up. Not that it was your fault. Still, no one in your field is going to hire you, so it’s better to stay, even if that means Jeon Jeongguk will be the death of you.

“We need to plan,” you mutter, subconsciously folding your arms over your chest to hide yourself. “The barbeque is in two days.”

Jeongguk carries the vase to the dining table and sets it down in the middle before turning to you. You make sure to maintain enough distance and focus your eyes on his face and not the way he’s leaning back against the table–his weight supported by his arms–or the way his shirt strains over his chest. Ridiculous how he can be so pretty but so vile.

At least you’re relieved that he seemingly turns his professional mode on as he bites his lip, thinking.

“Well, we know the ultimate goal is to—”

“—Get inside the Jungs’ house.”

“Yes,” Jeongguk agrees. “We need to figure out a way to get inside the house so we can bug it. That’s gonna be the best chance, and hopefully, we’ll get some kind of confession. Maybe they’ll even lead us to the money.”

It takes you ten minutes to plan for the next two days. It’s a bit rough, mostly open to let you see what happens and adjust accordingly, but it’s a good start.

In forty-eight hours, give or take, you’ll show up at the Jungs’ house for the barbeque. You have a feeling Jung Eunha isn’t that involved in her husband’s criminal adventures, but she could be sitting on valuable information. If not about the heists or money, then at least on how to get inside their house.

So, your focus lies on her and the other wives, while Jeongguk will try to get close to the men, and thus, Jung Hoseok, himself.

You pack away the blue dress.

author's note: so that's the first part, please tell me what you thought, i decided not to do tag lists for this series <3<3

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