😁*smile Through The Pain*

I wasn’t expecting this, and glad that it wasn’t in the front of my mind. I lose track of time a lot lol with life. But I came back to this, I loved this update, JK being so soft for her is something that highlights throughout the chapter. I’m glad they are making changes in the workplace and the cases. I’m not surprised to see Jk’s past cases a little bit, but oc should be having a change in perspective. With the scars and his caring nature, it’s only a matter of time for them to realize the domestic situation and they might avoid each other for a bit maybe. Or maybe an event forces them to work together again (not in a couple way)(actually it could be) (I’m not sure what I prefer). Anyways I’m glad to see the progress of the both of them this far. I’ll be waiting patiently (and most likely forget how time passes ) and be surprised to see the next update.

dextrocardia | 12

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: 6.6k

warnings: talk about dv and sa but pretty briefly. also includes some (implied) trauma/ptsd reactions.

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 12/? 

<previous | next>

© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

An hour and a half later, you’re on your way to the bathroom when you run into Jeongguk nearly head first. He mentioned at breakfast that he was going to use the gym before taking on the window once more, and judging by the sweat that’s soaked through the dark green t-shirt and also glistens on his face, that’s where he’s just come from.  

“Oh,” you step back, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Almost didn’t recognize you. You know… with your shirt on.”

It may be stupid, but better than to admit how seeing him sweaty, his breathing still heavy and his veins more prominent than usual, makes your own body heat up. 

He dabs his forehead with his arm, “Yeah… You know, I’m sorry for being such an ass to you. I thought it was cathartic, getting my revenge by flustering you. I didn’t understand that I was probably scaring you.”

Your eyes widen. He was. You remember your heart rate increasing uncomfortably whenever he’d walk toward you, his shirt off and saying something suggestive. If he wasn’t actually intentionally scaring you by implying he could do something to you whether you wanted it or not then he was an ass but not unforgivably so. It was immature, yeah, but if he thought you shot his friend for getting rejected and then protected by the chief, it almost makes it understandable. Almost.

“It’s okay. I appreciate it. It doesn’t bother me here, though, and it’s your home.”

He tilts his head slightly, looking down at you. “It’s what I want to do, and besides, it’s not nearly as hot as it was this summer.”

For a brief moment, you stand there, looking up at him and wondering if he’s actually a real person, a real man. Somehow he wants to do the right thing, be as kind and considerate he can, even if he doesn’t have to. It’s so far from the Jeongguk you thought you knew, but also… not. In a way, it makes sense that he hated you so much because he’s loyal, wants everything to be fair and right, which makes you wonder…

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm?”

“Why did you hate me so much?” you question, “I know you thought I shot Hoseong, either on purpose or by being reckless with the gun, but… what were your thoughts?”

His gaze turns curious, and you assume he doesn’t understand exactly what you’re getting at–after all, he thinks he’s explained it before.

“I hated you because I thought you shot him for rejecting you, and then I hated you because I thought you got away with it. I thought that the chief protected you by not dealing with what happened. Then I hated you more because you were always complaining about men when it seemed like you got off scot-free because you were a woman. I felt like you excused your shitty behavior as being a feminist or whatever and accused anyone calling you out of being sexist.” 

You consider his words. “Thank you.”

You were right.

“You’re… welcome?” he tilts his head slightly. “I’m gonna try to finish the window quickly, but I’ll need to head to the station after that, and I wanted to ask you if you want to come? I don’t think it’ll be too crowded today, and I know who’s working; all good guys. ”

You bite your lip. Going to the station would mean getting stared at and whispered about because at the end of the day, what happened to you–and then subsequently to you and Jeongguk–was what set the ball in motion. 

Sensing your hesitancy, Jeongguk continues, “We’re going over some paperwork of the changes we’re implementing, so Jihyo will be there, and we’ve asked all female employees to tell her if there’s anyone they’ve ever felt unsafe with, and we’re investigating those. The guys there right now are people I really trust from back home and the rest have no complaints, no reports made against them.”

You don’t really want to ever set foot at the station again, but logically, you realize that you’ll probably have to. After all, you can’t keep your pay and never work again, and you don’t have any other education. While you could try to find another job, it would have to be something like a customer service job, and your nineteen old self was more than done with that. 

Jeongguk still looks at you with gentle and hopeful eyes. Sooner or later, you’ll have to. Maybe it’ll be easier to have him with you when you do? Additionally, the least you can do is point out which guys haven’t made comments about you or threatened you.

“Okay.”

The tiniest form of raindrops hit the windshield as Jeongguk drives you toward the station. You bounce your knee nervously, trying to focus on the fact that you’ll get to see Jihyo and Sana again.

It turns out that walking inside the station with Jeongguk is just more reason for people to stare. He’s wearing dark blue and somewhat baggy jeans and a big black hoodie, but even without his uniform, he gives off an aura of authority among the people present. 

You trail behind him, just knowing that he’s glaring at those who let their eyes linger on you for too long, making them turn away their heads apologetically. You thought everyone knew, you really did, but judging by how many seem to want to come up to you and show their sympathy (or pretend to?), that’s evidently not the case. They all know now, however.

Jeongguk leads you through the corridors, and you stay behind him, feeling more unsure the farther in you go.

A man walks past in front of you as you reach the open part of the station, but you hear Jeongguk order a low ‘Don’t’ when his step falters. It’s a guy you’ve seen around but don’t really know, and even his name is escaping you at the moment. 

“Sorry,” he says before smiling gently at you, “Good to see you again.”

You nod, wondering to yourself if it’ll ever get easier. You don’t recall hearing the man insult or threaten you, but how can you believe he truly didn’t know?

Jeongguk leads you into the room you once knew as the old chief’s office, but now Jihyo’s family name is stamped on the glass. It’s empty, and you relax your shoulders when he closes the door behind you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Some still stare but less so than I assumed.”

“I might have told them not to make a scene or make you uncomfortable.”

His words have a small, appreciative smile pulling on your mouth. Two seconds later, there’s a knock on the door, and you see the blurry shape of a man through the frosted window.

“Jimin,” Jeongguk mumbles, walking back to the door to open it. 

A smiling, dark haired man walks through, a little shorter than Jeongguk, and his eyes land on you. Immediately, he approaches, his hand outreached. You’re not sure if it’s the way he’s smiling–his eyes narrowing but almost endearingly so–or something else, but he’s got a whole different aura than the typical man who works around here. Even Jeongguk at first glance looks more mysterious and intimidating.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jimin.”

His hand is warm when it shakes yours, and he nods when you say your own name. From behind him, you hear someone repeat it excitedly. Jimin steps aside, and you spot Sana approaching fast.

Your heart grows warm as you meet her in the middle and wrap your arms around her. She holds you close, doesn’t seem too keen on letting go, and you feel the exact same. 

“I missed you,” she mumbles into the embrace, and you hug her tighter. The truth is that you met with Jihyo a few times after the incident at the house, but you only spoke with Sana on the phone before you decided to leave town, telling them to give you space and not to visit. Being around people had felt overwhelming, but in retrospect, you’d been very lonely.

Sana steps back, “Jihyo had some pretty urgent matters to attend to, but hopefully she makes it before you leave. She said we could get started.”

“Right, there are some people already in the conference rooms, but we can just stay here,” Jimin points to a few chairs stacked in the corner, and Sana goes to get them. 

“Sure. Coffee, anyone?” Jeongguk asks, getting a chorus of affirmatives.

You watch him leave the room and the door glide shut behind him. Taking a seat, you clasp your hands on the table, looking at them inconspicuously.

“So, how do you know Jeongguk?” you ponder, even though your guess is that they used to work together before Jeongguk came to town.

Jimin pulls out the chair to your left and sits down. “We met at the academy, worked at the same station, first as highway patrol and then he switched to patrol and like… mostly DV calls before he transferred. After everything went down here, he and Jihyo asked me and a few others to help out.”

You blink in confusion, peering up at him. “Domestic violence?”

“Yeah. Of course, there’s not a specific DV unit, but if he was free and close, we usually sent him,” he explains casually.

“It’s often a complex situation as I’m sure you know; a manly man does best at talking to the offender–usually a man–but a woman or a less “harsh” man, like myself, usually does better talking to the victim and earning their trust. Jeongguk, for some reason, does well at both. So since we didn’t have a lot of female officers, he and a partner usually went. He would also talk to a lot of victims that came in to the station, taking their statements and supporting them to get the rape kits done if needed.”

You’re thrown back to the living room in your fake house, where you’re accusing Jeongguk of being one of the people leaving women to die at the hands of their husbands. You recall vividly how he stood there, just taking everything you threw at him. Why didn’t he tell you?

“Oh,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. “It’s never worked like that here, as far as I know?”

It really hasn’t. You couldn’t imagine the chief calculating who’s got the most fitting, empathetic personality and sending them out for calls like that. Closest guys went and then whoever was free talked to victims at the station. How well the job was done is a whole other thing, and you don’t even want to think about it or how any critique you and your female colleagues have raised has been handled.

“Yeah. Of course, it’s not always doable, and priority for all urgent cases is to send help out as quickly as possible, but if we could, then that’s what we did.”

Jimin’s words leave you with a lot to think about, and you can’t really keep your full attention on the papers Sana and Jimin pull out and start to go through. Though you hear them continuing on the subject, discussing whether to assign some officers a certain priority when a domestic violence or sexual assault victim comes in or just hold more thorough classes in how to talk to those people for everyone employed at the station.

A few minutes later, Jeongguk returns with coffee, and he wastes no time joining in from the chair beside you. You hum and nod sometimes, but it’s definitely hard to focus.

“You okay?” Jeongguk nudges you gently, observing you with big, understanding eyes. 

Logically, it wouldn’t be weird for you to feel intimidated by the current topics, and it’s most likely what he thinks is the reason for your quietness. 

“Yeah. Just… have a lot on my mind.”

He nods at the small smile you give him and surprises you by casually reaching for your hand on your lap. With his face forward and attention on the discussion, he briefly intertwines your fingers, stroking his thumb against your skin. Then before you know it, he’s pulling away.

“I have some… news,” Sana says with a lip balm in hand, watching your expression through the mirror as you exit the bathroom stall behind her.

“Okay…” you say, confused, joining her at the sinks to wash your hands.

“I’ve been in touch with a lawyer. You know how the bar owners said they didn’t save any footage from the Christmas party?”

You nod, thinking back to how you practically begged the owners of the bar where you all went for the after party to release their footage. They said no, said their cameras weren’t functional, and the chief didn’t grant the search warrant you requested. It was always so clear that the owners liked the business that the nearby station’s get-togethers brought, and you definitely know at least one of them was real buddy-buddy with some officers.

“Jimin and Jeongguk helped me get it. It was Ryung, not the one who put the drugs in the drink, but who asked the bartender to. I’ve been in touch with a lawyer, and we think we have clear enough evidence to prosecute.”

Your eyes are wide. Fuck, you hadn’t expected them to work together like that. The owners trying to protect whatever officer it was, sure, maybe even due to threats from said officer, but to have evidence of them essentially committing the crime together?

“Oh my God. Sana… That makes me so… I wanna say happy?”

She chuckles, but you can tell there are emotions bubbling under the surface. Fortunately–thank God–nothing happened to her that night since you and the rest of her friends at the station were quick to notice that something was wrong and took her to the hospital, but you can only imagine what it’s like to know that someone–most likely watching her in her day to day life–drugged her. Of course, their intentions were anything but good, and walking around, not knowing who was bold enough to try, and might just give it another shot, would terrify anyone. At least you knew who was trying to get rid of you.

“Something… needed to happen here,” she places the lip balm in her pocket, turning her full attention to you through the mirror. “We’ve been brave and fighting tooth and nail, but it was never going to be enough because we’re women and outnumbered. The men here, they either knew or didn’t–and evidently there were actually quite a few who shared Jeongguk’s belief–but the ones who knew–even if they didn’t partake–they didn’t stand up for us. I hate that you left without telling us–”

“–Would you have let me go?”

“No, of course not. In hindsight, yeah, it was the best thing you could’ve done because we needed something to happen. We needed Jeongguk. But when I found out that you were at the hospital after going on a solo mission with him? I thought he’d killed you.”

You let your gaze fall to the floor sadly. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I just… I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Sana touches her hand to your shoulder, giving you a sad but understanding smile, “How are you now? I imagine it’s scary, knowing they haven’t been caught yet.”

You sigh. “Yeah. I don’t know, in a way, I feel… numb. Sometimes I used to think I heard stuff… Footsteps, voices… Living with Jeongguk makes me feel safer in some ways.”

“But?”

You exhale, feeling your shoulders drop slightly.

Sana gives you a sad and almost defeated look. “Don’t do that. I really think he’s one of the good ones.”

“Don’t do what? Nothing is going to happen.”

“You sure? Knowing you, would you have agreed to live with him if you didn’t like him at least a little? And do you have any idea how much he cares for you? I heard from Jimin that he worked his ass off just to find out where you were, like from the moment he was discharged from the hospital and we wouldn’t tell him. He still asked about you almost everyday, even after he figured out your location and technically could go and see for himself. He works day in and day out to catch these guys for what they did to us and to him, but mostly for you.”

You tap your nails against the porcelain sink, listening to her words but not sure what to make of them. “He might be one of the good guys but I promise you, nothing like that is ever going to happen. Not between us.”

She purses her lips. “Okay, if you’re certain. But be honest with yourself if anything changes.”

“So, you and Jimin,” you change the subject, watching Sana roll her dark eyes and fail to suppress a smile.

“He’s a sweet guy. I didn’t think I needed to talk about what happened at that party, I thought I was over it. But since nothing happened and we never knew who it was? I guess I never let myself really process it and the always-present… fear I lived with. I know I talked to you, but I think I needed to talk to someone who in a way wasn’t in the same boat.”

“I get that,” you smile a smile that grows into a wide grin, “Can you believe it? We might finally get some justice.”

Two hours later, you’re rushing from the station’s front doors to the parked car, rain still falling from the gray sky. Jeongguk makes it before you, opening the passenger door.

Weird, why would you drive his car?

He looks back at you where you’ve come to a stop, “What are you waiting for? Get in,” he smiles, undoubtedly confused. There’s a raindrop running slowly from his forehead, down between his eyebrows and down the side of his nose.

Oh. He opened the door for you.

You move your legs, getting inside while Jeongguk remains standing there with his hand on the top of the door. As soon as you’re comfortably inside, he shuts it and rounds the car.

“Do you want to come with me or should I drop you off at home on the way?”

“Home, please. I think one station a day is enough for me,” you let out a stressed laugh at the mention of Jeongguk’s old workplace, gazing out through the window. 

“Of course,” he says, placing his arm on the back of your seat to look behind him, reversing the car.

You fiddle with your hands in your lap, glancing over at him while he steers the car out onto the road. “So, Sana told me she might have a case against Ryung as well.” 

“Yeah. If the bartender testifies against him, which I think he’ll do considering all the other charges we’re working on. If we can just catch them first to make him more relaxed with them in custody.”

You nod, more so to yourself. You hope the bartender testifies that he didn’t drug Sana by his own accord. Hopefully, he’d rather share the blame than take it all, even if he fears an eventual revenge act by Ryung’s cop friends.

“And you helped her?” you ask, tapping your fingers against your jean-clad thighs anxiously.

“To get the tapes, yeah. I remembered you told me what happened to her, so I asked her when I got back, and she explained everything. Owner was a real asshole and definitely tried to avoid it, so I might have threatened him a little.”

You look at the side of his face as he continues. “That if he didn’t hand all the footage over and make sure the cameras are always up and functional, I’d look into every crevice of the bar. Which, we technically can’t, because we don’t have any legal reason to at the moment. But I’m hoping it might deter them from shitty behavior in the future.”

He’s got such stunning features; the nose, the jaw, his eyes… His hair is relatively unstyled, parted to reveal his forehead. You didn’t think he could get more physically attractive, but boy, were you wrong. How much of one’s attractiveness is due to their personality? You find it so… heart-warming to know that he helped your friend and didn’t bring it up with you in order to win any brownie points. It feels like… he did it because he truly wanted to help her and left it to her to decide who should know.

“Thank you, Jeongguk,” you say earnestly, watching him turn his head to look at you for as long as he can before he has to focus his attention back to the road.

“No problem.”

You hear Jeongguk drive off only when you’re safely inside. Slowly but surely, your heart rate continues to increase, almost at the same rate as the rain that’s on a whole new level now. You faintly recall reading something about a smaller storm rolling through the city, but you didn’t remember it happening this week.

The first thing you do is lock the front door. You even pull on the handle a few times just to be sure, and then you head toward the living room before you walk back, checking it again.

It’s six p.mm when the first round of lightning hits. Holding your breath, you wait for it. One, two, three… There it is, the thunder. It shakes the entire house, and you feel restlessness fill your body. Your feet take you through the house and into your bedroom, locking both locks and sitting down on the floor with your back against the bed. 

However, Jeongguk removed the curtains for better access to the window and seems to have forgotten to put them back up. There’s a small space between the wooden planks, and you turn your head away as lightning flashes through.

Your breathing turns shallow, and you rise to your feet again. One, two… Any second now, it could happen. Any second. It rumbles again, and you feel it in your entire body.

Unlocking your bedroom door, you end up wandering the hallway in search of a calmer spot. You find a fitting room, and you pull the thicker curtains closed before slumping down with your back against the bed. The silence between the thunder fills your head with thoughts and memories and your body aches in pain. Trying to tune out the waves of thunder, you hide your face against your arms that are hugging your knees to your chest. It’s closer now, and you feel the walls rumble with it. 

You try to keep calm, but your shoulders are so tense. It feels like it’s right above you; it never moves. Moment after moment passes but it never moves. 

Footsteps stop next to you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” someone says, and you open your eyes, peering over your arm at the familiar but worried face where he’s kneeling beside you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

When did he even return? Wasn’t he supposed to visit the other station? Or… has he already? You can’t tell.

“I’m… fine,” you sniffle, raising your head, and meeting his brown eyes for a second. “It’s just that… bad things tend to happen to me when it storms.”

“I see,” he says, “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

You shrug because it’s his house, after all. Jeongguk sits down next to you with his back against his bed as well, barely touching your side. 

“No one is looking for us, you know?” he informs quietly. “We’ll be perfectly fine in this house. Jimin said that according to the latest updates, he thinks they're at least four hours away, and they definitely have more important things to prioritize than looking for you. Besides, I’m here, and I’m prepared this time so no one’s getting to you, okay?”

He nudges you softly with his shoulder. You nod shakily, trying to breathe calmly. For a while, you sit there on his bedroom floor, next to each other, until the worst passes. He makes it better; the feeling of his arm gently pressed against yours, the sound of his quiet breaths, and the scent of his cologne all pull you out of a darkness.

“We should do something.”

A lot calmer, you turn your head to meet his eyes, reflecting once again over how kind they look. There’s an additional sparkle in there too.

“Do… what?”

He stands up, holding out his hand for you. “Come on.”

A bit skeptical, you still give in and take his hand, letting him help you up. He doesn’t explain whatever plan he’s got, but you follow him into the kitchen where he stops.

“Teach me how to bake?”

“Jeongguk… I’m not a baker, myself,” you look at him, confused.

“But you baked those cookies? And they were good?”

“Yeah, I followed a recipe and had a bit of luck. Wouldn’t know how to replicate that without the exact instructions. I only know how to bake, like, one thing, and the last time I tried, it turned out terrible.”

“And that is?”

“Okay, uhm, eggs? And… butter?”

You watch as Jeongguk opens the fridge, searching for the ingredients you list.

“And we’ll need flour, baking soda, sugar, and… I’m guessing you don’t have vanilla extract?”

He places a cartoon of eggs and a stick of butter on the kitchen table before looking at you with a guilty face. “...No.”

“Alright, well, I guess we can do without. But we’ll need the flour, baking soda, and sugar; you have that?”

“Coming right up.”

You roll your eyes with a smile on your lips as you place his laptop on the counter, not displaying a recipe but a Netflix documentary.

Jeongguk follows your directions flawlessly, except for ‘accidentally’ making somewhat of a flour mess and tasting just a little too much of the batter. The cupcakes go inside the preheated oven, and he starts cleaning the kitchen and doing the dishes in the meantime. Although your creations are a tad bit too dry for your liking, and you have to stop Jeongguk from popping an entire one into his mouth the second they’re out of the oven, you guess he succeeded because you don’t spare the dwindling rain any more thought.

At least not until you’ve closed the laptop and put the cupcakes in the fridge, turning the lights off in the kitchen. You’ve joked and laughed, but now that it’s quiet… You bite your lip, standing outside your room with your fingers on the handle of the half open door.

“Everything okay?”

You turn your head, meeting Jeongguk’s eyes. He’s stopped on the way to his own bedroom, and you make an effort to smile at him, “Yeah. I probably won’t be able to sleep… with the rain, but it’s okay.”

“Sleep with me in my bed?”

You can’t help the risk analysis your brain performs. It’s the concept of laying your unconscious body in an extremely vulnerable state next to a being much bigger and five times stronger than you, whose kind you know to be extremely violent and without a trace of empathy. But Jeongguk has had plenty of chances to hurt you, and in that way, he hasn’t. He quite literally could’ve murdered you when you fell asleep against him on the couch and didn’t even wake up fully when he carried you to bed.

“Okay,” you nod, taking the leap and watching him smile and continue to his room.

You change in your own room, emerging in a pair of baby blue cotton shorts and a white, loose t-shirt. Jeongguk is wearing a similar outfit, only his shorts are longer and his entire outfit is black, and he’s pulling away the bedspread as you enter his bedroom. Despite just spending hours with him, your heart rate increases.

He looks back at you over his shoulder. “You know, I’m sorry for making you sleep in bed with me back at the house. I thought you seemed uncomfortable because you were a little prudish, not because…”

“Because I was scared of you?” you continue, smiling softly at his confession.

He nods, and you see the way sadness fills his eyes.

“It’s okay. Thank you, though.”

There’s still a trace of hesitation in his eyes, so you roll your eyes playfully as you sit down on the bed. “Get in, Jeongguk.”

He follows your instructions, switching the lights off first, and though you’ve slept beside him in the past, it feels so different. There was always a tension, mostly because you were quite literally fearing for your life, but also because you did find him insanely attractive. 

In the middle of the night, you wake up to the bed moving and soon after feeling Jeongguk reach for you in a clumsy way that definitely means he’s not awake. With his arm around your waist, he pulls you back against him, nuzzling his face into your hair and sighing. He’s really, really warm and sturdy, and you find that… it doesn’t scare you that much. Not too long after, you feel him tense a little and start to pull back his arm, a sign that he’s awake and realizing what he’s done. Surely surprising him–and honestly, yourself too–you grasp his hand to keep it there, and a few beats of silence later, you feel him snuggle just a little closer.

When you wake up in Jeongguk’s warm, white sheets, you’re alone. Rolling over, you find yourself face to face with the ring, still on his bedside table. Should you ask him about that? (Or about how you basically cuddled?) Is it weird or are you overthinking stuff? You observe the shiny gold for a minute before you stretch your arms over your head and decide to get up.

After visiting the bathroom, you head toward the kitchen. Expecting Jeongguk to have left already, you’re surprised to see him at the kitchen table, still wearing the clothes he slept in.

“You’re not going to the station today? I thought you had some sort of meeting” you question, walking to the fridge to grab a cupcake and pour yourself a glass of apple juice.

Jeongguk puts his phone down, scraping the last of the cereal from the bowl in front of him onto the spoon. “Moved it to Wednesday. Thought I’d stay home today.”

You wonder if it’s because of you and the bad day you had yesterday, but you don’t voice your thoughts. It’s still raining, but luckily there hasn’t been any more thunder, and it’s supposed to last until tomorrow. Though, while you can handle ordinary rain, it feels… good to have him close by.

After breakfast, Jeongguk resumes working in his office. You’re not really sure what to occupy yourself with, and although he left the door open, you don’t want to disturb him.

You end up in the kitchen, inventorying the contents of the fridge, freezer, and cupboards. You used up the last of the butter when you made the cupcakes, and although there are a couple of eggs left, if you want to bake, you should probably get some more.

With a list in your phone, you knock on the open door to Jeongguk’s office.

“Can I borrow the car? I was thinking of going grocery shopping.”

He turns to you in the chair, leaning back. “Are we out of something? I went not too long ago and thought I got everything?”

“I want to try baking some more.”

From confused, his features turn to understanding.

“Yeah, of course. I have the bike in case I get called in,” he turns back to the computer screen, clicking around. “Hold on a minute, and I’ll get my card.”

You pull the door closer to your body. “It’s alright, I’ll pay.”

Jeongguk swirls the chair all the way to face you and stands up before you, looking down at you, “I don’t mind, though.”

“Jeongguk, you’re very kind, but it’s not like I’m without pay. I can pay for some things while living in your house.”

“I know, but you still pay rent for your own apartment that you can’t live in at the moment, you pay for your car you can’t safely use, and I know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t really have to, so in a sense, you’re paying that price as well. And it’s partially because of me. Just let me pay.”

“You’re stubborn, you know that?” you roll your eyes but let him pass you into the hallway.

“In a good way, I hope,” he calls out. 

You follow him, taking the car key and card he just pulled out of his wallet from his hand. “And please just use it. I’ll check.”

“Fine.”

He grins happily, and then he returns to his office. But the joke’s on him because you do use his card at the grocery store, but you also take the opportunity to fill the car up with gas, and for that, you pay with your own card.

It’s just past noon when you return, locking the car in the garage and carrying the grocery bags inside. You notice the empty office on your way to the kitchen, and doesn’t it seem very… quiet? Then again, wasn’t the bike still in the garage?

You bring the groceries to the kitchen, unpacking everything before checking your phone again. If Jeongguk left he would’ve at least texted you, right? When there’s no notification from him, you conclude that he must be somewhere in the house, so you set out to find him.

You peer into his bedroom, finding it empty just like his office. Next, you open the door into your room, but he isn’t there either. That leaves, what, the bathroom?

The door to the bathroom is ajar, and as you approach, you see movement inside. Jeongguk stands with his back toward the door, sorting and throwing laundry into the washing machine. The final item he decides to wash is the shirt he’s currently wearing, and you watch him reach his hands to the back of his neck and then pull the black shirt over his head.

Which means that he’s left shirtless.

He places it in the washing machine and closes the door to it, unknowing of the way your heart has filled with an incredible weight, and you press your lips together in order to stop the bottom one from trembling.

The night that you almost died–Jeongguk more so than you–sometimes feels so distant. Like a terrible dream or something from another lifetime. But you’re now cruelly reminded by the large, very pink and ugly scar close to his shoulder blade.

He’s about to start the machine when he turns around as if he forgot something, worry filling his eyes and coloring his face when he spots you, on the brink of crying.

It doesn’t help you much, though, because there’s another huge, pink scar on his chest as well, spanning from right above where his heart should be and down a few inches.

You remember how he used to look when he couldn’t ever be bothered to wear a shirt around the fake house; how his warm, essentially flawless skin looked under the summer sun. And now, it’s going to look like that for the rest of his life. Because of you. You could’ve moved out of the way when Hoseong rushed toward you with the sword, but you didn’t. You could’ve at least tried, but you hadn’t.

“Jeongguk,” you whisper, distraught, taking a few steps toward him. He looks at you as you reach your hand out carefully, but he makes no effort to stop you, so you ghost your shaky fingers over the scar on his chest, as if it still hurts him.

“I–I…”

“Hey, it’s fine, okay?” he tries to meet your eyes, but you keep them on the scar, “It doesn’t hurt.”

He could’ve died. He was so, so close to dying. You nod, but your lip trembles as you tilt your head. 

“Listen… I’m fine… They’re just scars. I’m not bothered by them. Not at all; I don’t think about them. I can barely see them.”

Your gaze drifts, and you spot another scar on the side of his ribcage. “And this? I don’t remember this?”

He lifts his arm a little, giving you a better view of it. Luckily, it’s not close to as big as the others. “This,” he says, touching his other hand to raised, pink skin, “is from the chest tube. The others are from, well, the sword and fixing my ribs and my lung.”

In order to get your attention, Jeongguk places two fingers under your chin and lifts it to search your eyes, “I’m okay, I promise. The doctors told me not to exert myself like I used to for a while, so I’m still taking it a little easy, but I’ll definitely be able to.”

You grab his hand, holding it tightly in the air between you. “You’ll be completely fine?”

“Yes. I mostly am already. I’m like 99%.”

You think about the damage the sword did to his body, and if he hadn’t taken the blow for you, Hoseong would’ve aimed it for your heart, and it would’ve pierced your body. It hurts just thinking about it.

Closing your eyes for a second, you nod softly before gently turning him around again to look at the scar on his shoulder blade. He lets you, standing patiently with his back to you. 

“Have you tried any of those oils?” you sniffle.

“Oils?”

“That make them less noticeable.”

“I haven’t,” he answers over his shoulder. “I don’t think it’ll help since they’re so… textured. But if it’s just for appearance, I don’t mind. They don’t bother me.”

“It doesn’t hurt?” you ask to make sure, letting your fingers touch his skin still very lightly but less so than the previous ghosting touch.

He shakes his head, turning it forward again as if giving you free reign.

You trace the scar, the long vertical, raised line that thickens more to the middle. You’ve never seen scars like this before, not where you can even make out the stitches. For a moment, you stand there in silence.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your work?” you ask quietly.

He turns his head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“Back at the house, when I essentially yelled at you for being a shitty cop and about the patriarchy. Jimin said you worked a lot of domestic violence and sexual assault cases, like… voluntarily. Why didn’t you tell me that? Why did you let me go on and on about women’s rights and police violence and abuse when you were actually trying to do good?”

Jeongguk shrugs lightly, “Would it have helped? In the moment?”

You think about it, letting your hand fall from his back. He turns around and leans back against the washing machine, his hands on top of it behind him.

“I probably wouldn’t have believed you.”

It wouldn’t have helped. You were angry–furious–and upset, and it wouldn't have changed anything because you would’ve thought he was lying. Lying and somehow trying to invalidate your feelings.

“I had the feeling you needed to vent. I sorta realized then what your impression of me was, and I felt like I understood you more in that moment as well.” He tilts his head, looking down at you with those kind, brown eyes and a small smile.

“That I wasn’t a fake feminist, using the movement for my own personal and professional advantage? And that I actually thought you were the most misogynistic asshole to ever live, not just throwing blame around to victimize myself?”

Jeongguk chuckles at your colorful description, “Yeah.”

Even so, he still looks so… sweet.

<previous | next>

author's note: so i hope you like this spontaneous april fools' prank lol. i'm also really, really hoping that if you did like it that maybe you'll leave a reblog or an ask with your thoughts? makes my day to hear if you liked it (and what you liked)!!

It’s tough being a child of Ryan and Shane’s divorce because on the one hand I love Speed Racer and on the other I think any weird phenomena should have the alien label slapped on it with no explanation.

Also I was one of the first ones to see that, and I usually don’t check bts notifications, huh, fate works in mysterious ways…..

The audible scream I let out. (I’m home with my parents cause off the break and my mom looked up…. She’s like what’s wrong… i replied war….. yeah I need some help)))

everytime it rains, i am reminded of you. everytime i listen to classics, i am reminded of you, everytime i look at the moon, i am reminded of you. everytime i sit down to write, i am reminded of you. you really forgot me, didn't you?

nocturne, excerpt from my journal

Well, this might be overly simplified, but yes, we Stan!!!

Fuck that, okay let’s say this, I wish I had someone like that to guide and take care of me in a way that’s not super overwhelming. Iron man has insane power over Peter but the fondness is what makes their relationship amazing. And noooo, it’s not romantic or anything like that it’s the most parental type. Peter Parker started as a lonely teen like a lot of people, and an icon like Iron man, turning into this friendship/mentor/paternal figure is the best thing that happened. Anyways, booo, for Marvel killing off a god, now Spider-Man has to carry the the universe on his back. Also high hopes for Loki!!!! (P.s why does everyone I like die, in literally any material I consume)

Peter: Thanks for the new suit Mr Stark! You’re the best thing to ever happen to me!

Tony: I’m the best thing that ever happened to you?

Peter: Yep!

Tony: I’m not gonna lie kid I’m starting to feel a little sorry for you

the choreography is insane, he is insane 

awww

101/638 One Suga a day while he is away

Holy shit this fucking site 💀

seeing this hobi is like whiplash... also the tags say yandere jk

price of freedom (2)

↳ synopsis: upon learning that your father had arranged for you to marry kim taehyung, heir to the biggest corporation in asia, to secure his win in the presidential election, you sought the help of det. jeon jungkook of the intelligence unit to take him down and attain your freedom. however, you soon realized that freedom had a price and det. jeon’s was the most expensive and dangerous of it all. 

↳ pairing: detective!jungkook x professor!fem!reader

↳ genres: yandere, heavy angst, dark romance, slow burn, political

↳ warnings: this story is fiction. the characters of the tannies here do not represent who they are in real life. please learn how to discern fiction from reality. as this is a yan-centered au, mature themes are to be expected. hence, readers below 19 are prohibited from reading and/or interacting with this story. please police yourself in consuming fanfics that are not suitable for your age. please expect strong language, corruption, manipulation, gaslighting, graphic depiction of violence, use of cigarette and consumption of alcohol, mentions of s3xual assault, and murder.

Like the last time you saw him, he was wearing a long black coat under his suit and black pointed leather shoes. When you saw him standing outside of your apartment, you knew exactly what he was there for—the day of your press conference had finally arrived. 

You took off your earphones as you walked towards him, chest rising heavily as you had just arrived from your jog. “Have you always known where I lived? Don’t tell me you have cameras around my apartment too.” 

Namjoon didn’t address your question. Instead, he informed you, “The press conference starts in three hours. I’m here to take you to it.” 

“Of course you are,” you scoffed, unlocking your apartment. You entered your place and kept the door open for Namjoon to follow you inside. 

“Take a shower and then we'll leave,” Namjoon said, shutting the door behind him. “Taehyung has made arrangements regarding your wardrobe.” 

“Don’t I get any say in this matter?” you asked, turning on your heels to face Namjoon. 

“He prepared various dresses for you to choose from, Y/N.” 

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you snapped. “Can you tell me I have, even just a little bit, of a say in this marriage?” 

“You and I both know that’s not possible,” he said with a deep sigh. “Just get ready, please.” 

Shaking your head, you proceeded to your bathroom. It didn’t take long for you to finish getting ready; slipping on a pair of wide leg jeans, a simple white shirt, and throwing on a black coat over it. You sat down in front of your vanity mirror, blow drying your hair. Then, you put on your usual jewelry—except for the necklace Jeon Jungkook had given you days after meeting with him and his sergeant. 

It was gold with an engraving of St. Joseph on the circle pendant. It wasn’t eye-catching to say the least, which was the point as it was the “wire” that you needed to wear to capture everything when you were with your father. Because you couldn’t contact Jungkook or Yoongi, the detective told you that you only needed to press the pendant once and it would immediately activate and send them a signal that would alert them that you were under the wire. 

After slipping on your white sneakers and putting your phone, wallet, and keys inside your coat pockets, you left your room. Namjoon was looking at your bookshelf. You stared at his back for a moment. Most of the books in there were the books he made you read growing up. They were his copy. You always wanted to get rid of them but when you were about to, you just couldn’t.  

“I’m done,” you said. 

Namjoon turned to face you. “Okay. Let’s go.” 

The ride was quiet. Namjoon was sitting beside the driver while you were seated in the backseat. Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you pulled it out, seeing Jungkook’s message. 

We’re with you. Do your thing. 

It was oddly comforting. You never would’ve thought you’d be feeling that way especially coming from Jungkook. You put your phone back in your pocket and lowered yourself on the chair, resting your head against the window. 

It didn’t take long before you reached V Hotel. From your view inside the vehicle, the tall building looked so intimidating. It almost looked like it reached the sky. It wasn’t the first time you had been at the hotel. You remembered this establishment from your childhood. Your family would always stay here when you were in Seoul. The memories were fond because they were memories with your mother—room service, movie nights, trying out your mother’s jewelry and heels even though they were too big on your small feet. 

In the hotel room, it felt like you had your own world. The both of you could be as careless as you wanted because there was no husband and father that would restrict you. 

Now, you were back and everything had changed. Your mother was dead and you were marrying the heir to this hotel. 

Namjoon opened the door for you, cutting off your trance. With a deep sigh, you stepped out of the vehicle. Immediately, you heard screams from everywhere. You didn’t even notice the media behind the barricade from across the street. 

“What the hell is that?” you asked Namjoon as he led you inside the hotel. 

“It’s a press conference, Y/N. What did you expect?” he returned. 

When you were finally in the lobby, what struck you the most was the chilly air conditioned air. The lobby was massive and wide. Everything was grand. You would not deny the beauty of the five-star hotel. The manager greeted you and Namjoon then led you to your suite. Even the elevator was grand. By the time you arrived at your suite, you weren’t surprised at the elegant interior. 

“Enjoy your stay. Please let us know if you need anything else.” 

You didn’t have time to breathe because as soon as you arrived at the suite, Namjoon immediately instructed everyone in the room to start getting ready. Before you knew it, you were sitting in front of a vanity mirror with bright lights in front of your face and what seemed like dozens of people pressing a million things on your face. 

When your make up was done, the stylist helped you put on your dress. During all this preparation, not one of them spoke. You wondered if they were instructed not to. 

“No, I want to keep this necklace,” you told the stylist who was on the verge of unclasping the necklace. 

The dress you were now wearing was a white silk dress with thin straps and hugged you perfectly in all your curves. When you were finally done, you felt like a completely different person. It felt like you were back into your old lifestyle. 

“Thank you everyone,” you said as they were preparing to leave. They just bowed and didn’t say anything back. 

When you were finally alone in the suite, you sat down on one of the couches. Unconsciously, your fingers found its way to the pendant of your necklace. You wondered if Jungkook was still watching, listening. You wondered if he was anywhere near the hotel. The nerves had finally set in. 

Today, you were going to announce to the entire nation that you were marrying Kim Taehyung. 

And speaking of the devil, he arrived in your suite. He wore a tailor-fitted brown-shade three-piece suit. Unlike the last time you saw him, his hair was back to being black, slicked back, exposing his forehead and handsome face. 

“Hi there, Y/N. Long time no see,” Kim Taehyung greeted with a smirk plastered on his lips. “You look beautiful, Y/N.” 

“Wish I could say the same to you,” you told him, rising from your seat. “So, tell me, was this all your idea? A sick fantasy you had?” 

Taehyung chuckled. “I hate to break it to you but this is purely a business strategy for me. You can hate your father for this marriage.” 

Somehow, that made it worse. Your father really had no regard for you. 

“I’m sure you didn’t want to get married this way. You can literally have anyone you want, Taehyung. So, how about we make a run for it? Go on with our lives.” 

“Not anyone is the daughter of the future president of this country, Y/N,” he said. “You don’t need to worry about me getting in the way you live your life, if that’s what’s you’re worried about. You can see other people and I wouldn’t mind. Just don’t do it publicly. We still have appearances to keep up.” 

This was not the Kim Taehyung you were expecting. You heard rumors about him. You heard all sorts of unfortunate words that described him: womanizer, notorious, evil, diabolical. Yet he didn’t seem like any of it as he stood in front of you. Perhaps, it was an act? 

“Come on. The sooner we finish this press conference, the quicker we get back to our day lives.” 

And so, you were on your way. 

When you arrived at the hall where the press conference was held, you felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest at any moment. The anxiety creeped into your system and suddenly, you were hyper aware of everything that was happening around you. All the bodyguards that surrounded you and their chatters about being in their respective positions, the yelling of the media inside the hall, the sound of their cameras clicking, and your shaky breath. 

Taehyung grabbed your hand which, instinctively, you tried to withdraw but his grip was right and he tugged you along with toward the stage where you saw your father and Taehyung’s parents already seated—all smiles and jovial towards each other. 

Seeing your father made you tremble in anger. He was the reason behind everything. Seeing him act like he wasn’t cheating his way to the presidency by using her own daughter like a puppet in front of everyone in the hall and to the people who were watching ignited a fiery ball of anger and resentment in your heart. And when your eyes met, you felt like you were a fucking child again. You knew the look all too well—do as I say. 

Taehyung greeted his parents by bowing ninety-degrees, letting go of your hand momentarily to clasp it over his stomach. You followed his action. Then, the both of you bowed respectfully to your father. It made you sick. 

You sat beside him while Taehyung sat beside his parents. Both of you were in the center. You were now aware of just how vast and how many media were present inside the hall. 

“Hello. We’ll now start with the press conference,” an emcee off stage spoke into the microphone. “Everyone, please introduce yourself.” 

Taehyung’s parents were the first to introduce themselves, followed by their son, you, and lastly, your father. 

“Hello. My name is Jung Hoseok, Y/N’s father. Thank you all for coming.” 

Y/N’s father—he always introduced himself that way to the public. Never Mayor Jung Hoseok, Congressman Jung Hoseok, or Senator Jung Hoseok. It was always Y/N’s father. He wanted to be seen as just another father in the country. That made him relatable out of his peers. Even at such a young age, he would use you for his advantage. In hindsight, you probably should’ve seen this coming. But hindsight was indeed 20/20. 

“To the members of the media present with us at the hall and to the global viewers of the live broadcast, we want to welcome you to the press conference of the announcement of Kim Taehyung and Jung Y/N’s engagement. To start, we will be entertaining the questions from select media. Upon your arrival at the hall, your seats were randomly put on a red sticker so if you have a sticker on your seat, please rise and we will call your name row by row. Thank you.” 

And so, the questioning began. The first ones were basic—how you and Taehyung met which you both answered at ease. It surprised you—how you answered the question at ease, how smoothly you lied in front of the cameras. How you quickly came up with scenarios adding onto Taehyung’s recount of your romance. 

Perhaps, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. 

“Ms. Go Minji from The Seoul Times.” 

A beautiful dark-haired woman dressed in a pair of jeans, white blouse underneath a black coat and heels, carrying her thick notebook in one hand and her phone in the other went to the center where the microphone was placed. Despite the charming smile plastered on her lips, her sharp gaze met yours and you immediately knew she wasn’t just some journalist. She was young, probably around your age, and her sharp gaze held a lot of tenacity and passion. 

The burning passion of the youth—a catalyst for many things. 

“Hello. This question is specifically for Ms. Jung Y/N,” Minji spoke into the mic. 

“Yes, please proceed with your question.” 

“It’s public knowledge that you and your father had not been in contact for many years, presumably since the passing of your mother. Isn’t it curious that, all of a sudden, you’re back into each other’s lives, and you’re marrying Mr. Kim Taehyung, heir to the V Corporation which is also the largest stockholder of Han Systems, the supplier of this year’s national elections?” 

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you but nothing more evident than that of your father’s. He was burning holes in you. 

“It’s true. My father and I have been estranged for some time now. We have differences, just like everybody else. We have arguments and misunderstandings that we sweep under the rug rather than confront them immediately and that led to the unfortunate estrangement. But he’s my father and I never stopped loving, caring, and supporting him—,” you took a quick glance to your father and saw him smiling at you. 

For everyone else it might be a sweet smile. For you, it was sinister. 

You continued, “You know, just because we’ve lived our lives publicly since he became involved with politics doesn’t mean that we have to put everything out there. My father and I have reconciled. As for my marriage to Taehyung—like we said a while ago, we’ve known each other since we were little. We’ve been friends throughout the years. It didn’t occur to us that we share the same romantic feelings for each other until last month. So, when we acknowledged it, there wasn’t really any second guessing—we knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. It may be unorthodox to most since our society is very conservative when it comes to dating, but it’s a testament on how true and sincere our feelings are for each other. We are marrying because we love each other.” 

“But isn’t that a conflict of interest? Your father is running for president.” 

“No, it’s not. Firstly, there are no laws against our union. Secondly, my father is not corrupt. His record can attest to that. Thirdly, Han Systems developed a corruption-proof system. That is why the Commission on Elections approved their license to be the supplier for this election after a thorough investigation on the company and the testing of the machine. It took them six years to reach this decision. That only means Han Systems was the best of the best. Their system worked. I understand how our union may raise speculation but I ask the public to look at the facts and the records of my father’s public service of more than 20 years before they spread malicious comments.” 

The moment you stepped out of the bathroom to change back into your own clothes, Jung Hoseok was waiting outside. He was seated in one of the chairs near the room’s balcony. 

“You answered well a while ago,” he complimented. “Sounded like a true politician’s daughter.” 

“I’m going now. You got what you wanted so let’s just stay out of each other’s way as we’ve been doing the past years,” you told him. 

“Stay, Y/N. I’m not done talking to you.” 

There was the Jung Hoseok you remembered. All the traces of his public persona were gone. Before you was the true Jung Hoseok—cold, stern, dictatorial. With your fists clenched, you faced your father. 

“You will see this through, Y/N. This act doesn’t end after the press conference. In fact, it’s only the beginning. I’m sure Namjoon has told you what the consequences will be if you deliberately try to cross me. It’s not only your life that is at stake. Do you understand?” he raised his eyebrow slightly, challenging you to deviate. 

“I do,” you said. 

“Good.” 

“How can you do this? You’ll sell out your own blood for your own selfish interest. Do you have no conscience?” you asked because it hurt. It still hurts even though you always knew your father was not a good man. 

“Y/N, I thought by now you’ve grown up and accepted the realities of the world,” he shook his head as he rose from his seat. “You were always your mother’s daughter. So idealistic, so… hopeful,” you felt your body froze when his fingers traced your jaw. “Look at where that led her. Killed by the very people she stood for,” Hoseok sighed deeply. “Justice, truth, honesty, morality—these are fallacies. Man-made illusions to sell idealists like you into championing causes that do not matter. Made to believe we’re all equal. Y/N, we’re not. There will always be a leader and a follower. And I am born to lead. And I will do everything to make sure I get to lead for a long, long time.” 

The sinister smile appeared on his face once more as he continued, “So, don’t get in my way because I won’t hesitate to do what needs to be done to push you off it.” 

Same place. Take the route we used. 

This was the message that you saw after you finished drying the dishes you used when eating. It was from Jungkook, obviously, and even though you wanted nothing more but to stay in and call it a night—you knew this was more important. So, without further ado, you took your keys, wallet, phone, and coat then proceeded to the parking area of your apartment building. 

Fortunately, you still remembered the route Jungkook used going to the warehouse. You guessed this was probably the location you would often meet. You wondered how many CIs had driven the same route and what happened to them afterwards. 

When Jungkook asked to meet with you to give you the necklace, you had asked the very question. 

“What happens after my father is in jail? I imagine I have to testify and all that but what about after that?” you asked as Jungkook put the necklace around your necklace. 

“You get your payment for the information you provided us and you’re free to do whatever the hell it is that you wanna do,” Jungkook answered, locking the gold jewelry in place. 

“I don’t need money. But freedom sounds nice,” you replied, turning to face him. 

Jungkook became a friendly face. You never expected this. It felt like with him came hope that everything would be alright, that the good guys would win this time around. 

Moments later, you arrived at the warehouse. It was dark and the street lights didn’t help illuminate the streets clearly. All that you could see was whatever the bright light from your headlights shone upon. Once you had parked and shut the engine off, you stepped out of your vehicle and proceeded inside, using your phone’s flashlight to guide you. 

“Y/N.” 

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest again. You turned and your flashlight shone upon Jungkook’s face. 

“What the hell is the matter with you? Why do you sneak up like that?” your hand was on your chest, feeling your heartbeat. 

“Sorry. Part of the job is to be as sneaky as you can,” Jungkook’s lips formed into a smile. “Come on. Let’s talk somewhere brighter.” 

So, you followed him upstairs and inside a room with the lights on but no windows. It was small with only a table and a metal chair. The walls were dirty yellow filled with various graffiti. The floor too. 

“What was this place?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“According to Sarge, it used to be a sardines factory. But it was shut down and the local police department took over after it was revealed that the owners were trafficking underage girls and shipping them off to various countries,” Jungkook explained, sitting on the table behind him, and pulling out a box of cigarettes and lighter from his coat pocket. “Intelligence mostly uses it as a safe place to talk to CIs.” 

You nodded. Jungkook lit a cigarette between his lips. “So, everything that happened a while ago was captured and recorded. Our tech guy is uploading it to a database for safekeeping. I wanted to let you know that you did great.” 

“I lied, Jungkook, about everything,” you told him with a light scoff. 

“It was necessary,” he shrugged it off. You frowned a bit. Was lying also ‘part of the job?’ He must have noticed your expression because he chuckled as he blew smoke from his mouth. “Professor, you do realize the world isn’t black and white? Sometimes, to do our jobs, we have to use similar methods as the bad guys.” 

You inhaled deeply with your lips pressed tightly. “Why did you wanna meet?” 

“I wanted to know if you were okay after everything that happened today.” 

“You could’ve asked me over the phone.” 

“Yeah, but I wanted to see you,” Jungkook removed the cigarette from his lips. “You’re my CI, Y/N. You’re my responsibility. Part of my job is to make sure you’re okay every time you’re undercover.” 

“I’m fine,” you told him. “Honestly, right now, I just want to sleep. I’m sure after today, I’m gonna be whisked away for God knows what for the wedding.” 

“Y/N, you asked us before how long will this take, remember? And Sarge told you that it was a long game. You can’t have this attitude if you wanna take your father down.” 

“I’m not—,” 

“Yes, you are,” Jungkook rose from his seat. “This defeatist attitude. It’s getting annoying. It’s not going to help you last,” his eyebrows were furrowed and suddenly, he seemed bigger. “You want to see your father pay for his crimes? Then, do everything in your power to do it. Stop second guessing yourself, use your instincts, commit.” 

You weren’t sure what to say but everything he said left an impact on you. 

“I’m not mad,” he said after a while. “I’m just being direct.” 

You nodded slowly. “No, it’s fine. I—I understand. I’ll do my best, really.” 

Jungkook smoked again. “Okay. You can go now. Keep your necklace on.”

↳ author’s note: a bit of a filler chapter. i just wanted to let you guys have a sneak peek on hoseok and taehyung's characters. comments & feedbacks are highly appreciated! reblogs too <33 these are really writers' bread and butter.

↳ author’s note: @llallaaa @jjk174 @doulcha @phthartic-fox @bakudon (can't tag you) @whipwhoops @parkinglot-nights

Cutie 🥰

suchwita ♡ ep.4 suga with hoshi

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