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jeonstudios · 22 days ago

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dextrocardia | 16

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: 6.5k

warnings: none besides.... fictional police work...

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 16/?

Despite everything, you fill with a sense of excitement as you drive off, Sana in the passenger seat beside you. It’s nice to feel like you have a purpose again, and even if you technically had one during the last mission with Jeongguk, it was overshadowed by the danger you believed resided under the same roof.

It’s a comfortable journey, and soon enough the highway turns into a pristine neighborhood, bearing no trace of the traumatic events that occurred there months ago. Most of it looks the same as you remember it but other parts don’t. There’s an unfamiliar car parked outside ‘your’ house, and not only that, but glancing through the large windows as you cruise by, you spot movement inside. Children? You knew people would eventually move into the house–a house that never even belonged to you to begin with–but it feels weird.

Putting your more than illogical feelings aside, you focus on parking your car outside the Jungs’ house instead. Before stepping out, you and Sana give each other one last once-over. Despite the relatively low risk of this initial part of the mission, you’ve still made an effort to appear inconspicuous, and it’s not only for your own sake. Considering what they’ve done for you–Hoseok especially–you don’t want to be a bother if they’d rather not have law enforcement be seen knocking on their door.

It’s Eunha who opens the door, eyes going wide when they land on your face. For a second, your worry grows; what if your presence isn’t actually appreciated? At all? But then her lips pull into a smile.

“Oh, hello?”

“Hi, we were wondering if we could ask you a few questions? About another case, not… yours,” you find your greeting turning into rambling.

“Oh, uh, yeah, of course. Come on in. I’m a little busy baking at the moment, but Hobi is home, and I’m guessing he’s the one you really want to speak with?”

She wipes her hands on her light blue jeans, leaving a white, powdery residue on the fabric before opening the door wider.

“Thank you,” you smile as you step inside, looking around to see that, as far as you can tell, everything looks the same as when you last paid the Jungs’ a visit. When you think about it, Hoseok never brought up the bugs you placed in their house, so you’re guessing they never found them. Or if they did, they haven’t brought it up for some reason or another. You’re not sure, but what you do know is that you’re not gonna be the one to do it, just in case.

“Make yourselves at home. I need to check on the cookies. Hobi!” she turns to call out into the house, “We have guests!”

With an apologetic smile, Eunha excuses herself, and then you and Sana are left alone in the entryway. You share some kind of look. Sure, you didn’t expect too much hostility, but to leave you, two detectives, unsupervised in their home?

A second later, the sound of footsteps approaches, and you smile toward the brown-haired man as he comes into view, his confused features turning happy. He takes in the sight of you before he closes the distance to give you a warm hug.

“How are you? You look good!” he compliments, also turning to shake Sana’s hand, a very sweet smile on his lips. “Hoseok.”

“Sana,” she greets.

“I’m doing well,” you answer, “He is too; made a full recovery.”

Hoseok’s smile falls, and he takes on a rather baffled look instead. “We saw on the news. About the station and the investigation and all that. Crazy. I mean, we knew there were corrupt cops, but to that extent?”

“Yeah.”

“So what brings you here?” he asks, a glint slowly returning to his eyes. “Was it maybe something I said one time at a hospital?”

You nod, “Yeah. Can you tell us what you know? Or give us any tips at all so that we can stop Kyung Sunghyun once and for all?”

You watch him contemplate. Since he first let that comment about Ksung slip at the hospital, you’ve felt that he’s a good enough man to at least not mind Sunghyun being investigated and possibly put behind bars. But what can he say without incriminating himself for essentially planning a robbery? And can he trust you if he accidentally lets something slip? You might seem like you’ve stopped pursuing him, but can he trust you not to, ever?

“Why don’t we take a seat in the living room?” He gestures for you to follow him, and after quickly taking off your shoes and jackets, you do, with Sana in tow.

Sitting on the Jungs’ couch, you wait for Hoseok to get comfortable and for Sana to pull her pen and notebook out of her bag.

“Hey, love?” Hoseok calls out to his wife, turning to the two of you, “You want something to drink?”

“Oh, water would be fine,” Sana accepts, and you nod, “Yeah.”

“Hm?” Eunha appears in the doorway. She seems to have more flour on her pants than last time.

“Could you bring us some water?”

“Of course. Anything else?”

Hoseok thinks about it for a second before he lights up, “Oh, do we have some of those brownies left?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll bring a few pieces.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as Eunha leaves, Hoseok turns to you again, a look of concentration coloring his features. “So, what do you want to know?”

“Well, everything,” you say.

“Okay. I’ll warn you that I might not know as much as you think, and some things–not that I know them–I can’t say. I guess I can start by saying that, hypothetically, if I were a criminal of any kind, I would probably still stay as far away from other criminals as possible; especially if I had… valuables that might make me a target. No honor amongst thieves and all that, you know?”

Although his words deny any criminal activity, his expression reveals that he’s well aware that everyone in the room knows that he’s far from innocent. At least as far as the law is concerned. You watch him intently, waiting for whatever information he has and praying that it’ll help.

Sana drives you both home an hour or so later, you sitting quietly in the passenger seat and staring out the window as the world passes by.

“We need to tell Jihyo as soon as possible,” Sana says, “I can drive you home after if you want me to? Unless you’d rather stay with me?”

“No, it’s… fine. I’m fine.”

You are fine. Although it could’ve sent you into some sort of panic attack, it didn’t. It’s just a reminder of why you don’t trust men, and you feel yourself withdrawing instead.

Hoseok didn’t have too much info on the Ksung trafficking case. As you expected, they spent a pretty significant amount of time trailing Sunghyun and his closest men in order to map their routines. Not that Hoseok admitted it; it was very ‘hypothetical’. But from what you gathered, it was difficult to get close to the top men and almost harder to follow anyone. Then, when everything happened and Hoseok and Yoongi understood that you’d been watching them, they put the plans mostly on hold. Except for one thing.

“He, of course, doesn’t actually get his hands dirty if he can help it, and we weren’t–you’d have to be a whole team to keep track of everyone and what they’re doing. But …there might be a private plane flying mostly under the radar about once a month. Someone might’ve found… ‘receipts’ for fuel from different places, and when pieced together, they form a vague route.”

“I guess the question is, why the need to fly incognito? Is it possible it flies… cash or other valuables from the bank that they’d rather not have everyone know of?” Sana asks, and you nod in agreement. It’s a very valid concern; you wouldn’t want just anyone to know if you’re transporting valuable cargo, even legally.

“The plane is refueled more often and with less fuel than a cargo plane, according to the receipts. It seems to be a very small plane, with a correspondingly small fuel tank. And these days, flight tracking is the default; it’s definitely an extra step to opt-out. Sometimes even difficult to achieve.”

“So we’ll be looking into this plane, alright. Where are the receipts from? Is there a pattern? Somewhere we can go to see if we catch them as they’re refueling?”

“The first stop is around three hours from their headquarters, so you’d assume the plane is stationed around there somewhere, but it might have proved hard to actually find it. I’ll give you the coordinates for that and the other locations.”

“Thank you.”

It’s with genuine gratitude that you thank Hoseok. It’s truly ironic that one of the sweetest men in your story is a bank robber, while the police have taken on the role of your enemy.

“So how is your case coming along? You haven’t found them yet, I assume?”

You press your lips together briefly before sighing. You know you shouldn’t disclose anything, really, but again, with how much has been on the news, the public would’ve known if the wanted police officers had been apprehended. And they haven’t. You’ve been told not even the Jimin-lead actually led to anything.

So you shake your head. "Still looking.”

To your surprise, Hoseok looks to be thinking hard about something.

“Okay, so… this might not lead anywhere, but if you’re stuck and possibly trailing Ksung’s people anyway… rumor has it that Ksung has been paying off the cops for a while. Not sure what station, but maybe, someone–at least up until around two months ago–used to meet up with someone at seven a.m. on the fifteenth of every month. Like I said, it’s supposedly around two hours away from here, essentially smack dab in the middle between the closest stations, but given your previous colleagues’... reluctance to follow the law, it might be worth checking out.”

“But they’ve been on the run for months now,” Sana questions, “If Ksung has been paying for police protection or their deliberate ignorance, then what would be the point now? They don’t have anything left to offer.”

“Their silence, maybe?” Hoseok tries to offer an explanation. “They could be blackmailing Ksung into giving them the money they need while on the run. Pay up, or they’ll tip someone off?”

“If what we think about Ksung is true, wouldn’t he just… get rid of them if that were the case? Can’t be that much of a leap between trafficking and murder? Especially if they’re a threat to everything Sunghyun built?”

You adjust your position on the couch, sitting quite literally on the edge of your seat and looking at Sana. “Yeah, I honestly think so too. It wouldn’t make sense to let some of the most wanted people blackmail you like that. There’s a big risk that they’re caught and then they might blab and drag you down too. Better to get rid of them.”

“Maybe,” Hoseok adds, “But there were a lot of officers caught in the investigation, weren’t there?”

“Yeah. All fired,” Sana confirms.

“Again, I can’t promise it’ll help because it’s somewhat of a long shot, but what if you didn’t catch them all? What if…”

“--Someone’s still working at the station,” you continue where Hoseok trailed off. “And taking bribes?”

“And you think that person is helping Hoseong?” Sana wonders, her eyes wide.

“Don’t know, but what are the odds of two separate groups of officers being corrupt?”

You really don’t want to answer that.

Jihyo is surprised at your findings, but when you turn it around to look at it from another angle, it makes an awful lot more sense. Instead of questioning the odds of your two cases being connected, it’s not so strange to think that a criminal bank CEO might be bribing the town’s corrupt police. It’s just strange for you to have found yourself in the middle of it.

“So what do we do?” Sana whispers, glancing at Jihyo’s closed office door behind her.

“Wait. What’s today’s date?” Jihyo asks, her eyes going wide as she realizes what you’ve already had time to see.

“January fourteenth,” Sana explains.

Jihyo looks at you and Sana and the look you give each other. “No. We should wait for backup; the outsourced detectives will be here in a week.”

“We’ll miss the window,” you argue quietly.

Jihyo raises her eyebrows. “What if it’s not true? What if it’s a trap to get rid of you?”

“Set up by Hoseok? I don’t think so. He could’ve gotten rid of us today if he wanted to, and I don’t think he would; he saved us, after all.”

“Well, you more or less surprised him today, and people knew where you were, so it would’ve been stupid on his part. Getting rid of you while you’re ‘looking for someone else’ would be a better plan. And like you’ve said before, when he saved your life, he didn’t know that you were investigating him yet. Now that he does, he might’ve just been waiting for an opportunity. What are the odds of you finding all of this out on the fourteenth when the supposed meeting is taking place tomorrow?”

Well, when she’s putting it like that you have to agree that there’s a risk. Not a big one, you don’t think, but a risk nonetheless.

“I want to go,” you say before lowering the volume of your voice further, “If there is someone here still… if there’s a mole, we need to… we need to act as soon as possible. The longer we wait, even if we try to be discreet, the higher the risk of him finding out.”

Jihyo sighs, lifting her hand to rub her forehead until she seemingly decides.

“Fine. Do you want to go tomorrow? Together? Maybe you should bring someone else as well?”

“Who? We don’t know who the mole or informant is, and if you suggest bringing Jeongguk…” you trail off. Jeongguk is great, but this is not his area of expertise.

“He’ll want to go, regardless.”

“He’s not a detective.”

“He’s out on a call right now?” Sana asks.

Jihyo nods. “Yeah, I think so. Out patrolling, at least.”

“Don’t tell him,” Sana suggests.

“You don’t think it’s him, right?” Jihyo asks in disbelief.

Sana continues, “No, but… the more people who know, the bigger the risk. I think he’ll do more good here, keeping up the charades.”

A few hours later, you’re already in the car, heading toward the spot Hoseok pointed out on a map. The meeting isn’t supposed to take place until tomorrow morning, which gives you a valuable opportunity to scope the place out beforehand.

The sun has set by the time you reach a hill, the road ending in an empty cul-de-sac with a low stone wall overlooking the arches of a large, gray viaduct. There’s a road running parallel to you, only on the other side of the wall, below the hill. It doesn’t pass under the viaduct, which stands almost perpendicular to you, but instead turns to run alongside it. You lean your gloved hands against the stone wall, following the road and its sidewalk below with your eyes.

The meeting point is supposedly a few meters from the sidewalk, up underneath the viaduct’s closest arches. From this spot, you can’t see beyond the arch, except for a few bushes and trees. It looks like it might be downhill.

Hidden by the elevation, the stone wall, and some trees, the current spot will be where you park the car tomorrow, and before checking in at a nearby hotel for the night, you decide to also check out the other side of the viaduct.

“So, how does it feel to be back for real?” Sana asks, stepping out of the bathroom and putting her toothbrush in her mouth.

Sitting on the bed, you flip through the TV channels. “Uh, good. I really missed this… feeling of having a purpose?”

She pauses the brushing, toothbrush still in her mouth as she speaks. “Mhm, I get what you’re saying. And… how does it feel, knowing that there might be someone we… missed?”

You take a moment to think about it. “I don’t know. I’m so used to walking around the hallways, paranoid of who might be waiting around the corner. Waiting for me to be alone somewhere. After a while, you just don’t have the energy to be that scared anymore.”

Sana nods in understanding, brushing her teeth thoroughly for another few seconds before she enters the bathroom again to spit the foam into the sink.

“Did you know that I basically didn’t fight them at all when they came for us during the undercover assignment?” you ask, fiddling with the remote on the white bedspread.

“Jeongguk mentioned something about feeling like you’d given up, but not a lot more. He wanted us to stay close and check up on you; said he thought the last year had taken a bigger toll on you than we’d assumed.”

“Yeah. I’ve been so scared for such a long time; felt for so long that I stand no chance whenever they actually decide to try it. I didn’t think there was any use in fighting them when they came, so I just… stood there. I closed my eyes.”

“But Jeongguk saved you.”

“He did, yeah. Let himself be stabbed by a fucking samurai sword.”

Sana’s quiet as she exits the bathroom again, a white robe in her arms.

You let out a deep breath. “What would you do? If you were me?”

Immediately understanding, she sits down on the other bed. “I don’t know. I want to say that I’d give him a chance, but I think it might be easier said than done.”

You look down at your hands. “Yeah.”

“I do believe he’s a good guy, and I think he’s learned his lesson, but a relationship can’t depend on whether he’s good or not, if he deserves you, or whether you should forgive him, can it?”

“It shouldn’t?” you raise your eyebrow at her, smiling a little.

“No, I mean, you shouldn’t be with him if the answer to those questions is ‘no,’ but the next question is just… Do you want to be with him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then… does being with him make you happy?”

You feel your whole body practically answer her question. Your eyes drop sadly to the bedspread again, and your shoulders lift a little anxiously. “I think he makes me feel inadequate.”

She looks at you sadly. “You know that you’re not, though, right? You get to feel that way, and he has no say over your feelings because he’s the one who caused them, but you’re more than enough. We’ll support you no matter what you decide to do.”

Nodding slowly, you take another deep breath, getting up from the bed to brush your own teeth.

Usually, you find it hard to wake up fully when the sun has yet to rise and it’s freezing cold. Even the hotel’s hard but warm bed would be tempting you to stay in. But not today. The moment the alarm blares, you’re already reaching for your phone to quiet it, sitting up and looking around. On the other bed, not far from yours, Sana is rubbing her eyes and yawning. Today’s the day you might actually find a good lead.

Due to the nature of today’s assignment, you’re armed, just in case, and you’re clipping small body cameras to your thick, black jackets. On your head, you’ve got black beanies, and your hands are gloved as well to withstand the cold.

The sun still hasn’t made it far on its journey across the sky when you park the car in the same spot as you did yesterday.

“I’m in my position,” Sana informs through the earpiece. You dropped her off closer to the other side of the viaduct, where she’s currently hiding a little farther down a walkway and behind some parked cars.

“Good. Me too,” you confirm, leaning your elbows against the wall. Thanks to the trees and the relative distance, you’re well hidden as you kneel behind the stone wall, focusing on the meeting point through your black binoculars.

“It’s five fifty a.m., and we’re both in position,” you repeat, more so for the recordings.

“And so we wait,” Sana concludes.

Despite the thick jackets, it doesn’t take long before you’re freezing. If you could, you’d sit in the car, at least to be protected from the biting wind, but the angle from there wouldn’t let you see over the wall. Sana complains quietly about her fingers while your cheeks hurt the most. Every glance at your watch is painful.

Six fifty arrives, and you focus further. But there’s no one. Once every few minutes, a car or two passes on the road below you, but that’s it. Seven o’clock. Still no one. You’re starting to fear that maybe you missed them? Did they change location? Or maybe they decided on another time? What if they really just stopped meeting up, altogether? Hoseok didn’t seem too sure, after all. You bite your lip, trying to keep your cold body still. If there is an informant, you need to catch him.

Then, at seven twenty, you hear something. It’s the rustling of thick fabric as Sana adjusts her position.

“Dark-clothed male, moving in. 4 o’clock.”

As slowly and inconspicuously as you can, to not draw attention, you turn your head. Sure enough, a man is walking on the sidewalk below and to your right.

Just like you, he’s dressed in all black, a bulky jacket covering most of his body except his legs. He’s got the hood pulled over his head and his hands in his pockets.

“Can you get a visual of his face?” you ask, watching wide-eyed as he passes below you.

“No, he’s got something–a shirt or something–pulled up over his mouth and nose.”

“Okay, looks like he’s headed for the viaduct,” you say, waiting to see if he follows the sidewalk as it turns to run parallel to the viaduct, or if he steps in under the arch. “We’ll wait and see if anyone else shows.”

But the man doesn’t stop to wait for someone. He steps off the sidewalk, casually walking over to the closest of the huge pillars, graffitied in blue and green, and swiftly retrieves something from under a small bush. A bag?

“It’s a dead drop,” Sana exclaims as the man continues on his path, heading in her direction. It only took a few seconds, and anyone less observant would’ve missed the pickup.

“Do you recognize him?” you ask, on the edge of your seat. “Can you follow?”

You’re too far away to follow him on foot, and driving down would be impractical and likely draw his attention, so you stay put.

Instead, Sana moves, the rustling loud in your ears, and you hold your breath. It’s always more nerve-wracking to watch someone else pursue and track a target than doing it yourself. If this man discovers her, you don’t know what will happen, much less what he’ll do if he recognizes her.

The man disappears from view, and for a while, all you hear is Sana’s breathing and that same occasional rustling of her jacket as she moves. Then, there’s a bout of silence before her quiet, shocked voice comes through.

“I can’t follow him further; he’s getting into a black car. I… I think it’s JJ.”

As quickly as possible, you drive back to the station, wondering if you ever missed a clue about JJ. Considering how many men work at the station and how you’ve had to keep a very close eye on some of them, JJ has flown under your radar a bit. The tall man wasn’t anyone you’ve paid much attention to or interacted with, but he never came across as weird or suspicious; just as a regular man. He never outright harassed you, but he never stood up for you either, but then again, he wasn’t the only one using that approach. Additionally, you’ve seen him with Jeongguk a bunch of times, and you figured Jeongguk had cleared all the remaining men. Not that it’s Jeongguk’s fault, but still; you don’t think he’s easy to fool.

“How sure are you?” Jihyo asks in a hushed voice, her worried eyes flitting between you, Sana, and the closed office door. You know JJ is already at the station, you walked past him in the hallway, dressed in uniform. You weren’t able to follow the man, but considering you had to wait a bit and then drive down to collect Sana, it’s entirely plausible he made it back before you.

“Like eighty percent. It was hard to see, but… I’m pretty sure. Don’t know if I captured anything of value, but we can go through the recordings to be sure?”

“Maybe we can look through the work schedule as well?” you suggest. “If he hasn’t been clocked in at seven to eight a.m. on the fifteenth of the last few months–probably since they went on the run–then–”

“–We still can’t rule him out,” Jihyo interrupts sadly. “Even if he’s been clocked in, he–maybe together with his partner–could’ve simply driven there while on duty, assuming they weren’t on an active call. Maybe not super likely, but not impossible. So if he’s been clocked in, we’d need to look at those exact hours and place him on specific calls.”

“Which might take a while,” Sana adds, and you nod, realizing that she’s right.

Your heart races. “So what do we do?”

“His car’s in the garage, right?”

Jihyo gives Sana a warning look. “We’ll need a warrant to search it, and this is not enough for one.”

“But not to take a look through the window,” you say, biting your lip and meeting Sana’s eyes.

You wait for Jihyo’s objection, but it doesn’t come. “Be careful,” she whispers instead, following you toward the door. “If there’s one, there might be more.”

“Yes, boss.”

Being the first one to step out of Jihyo’s office, you glance the other way, just in case JJ happens to be watching. However, you don’t look where you’re going, and of course, you run headfirst into someone’s chest.

“Hey,” a deep voice says, its owner steadying you by your arms. Of course.

Embarrassed, you look up, only to meet Jeongguk’s dark eyes. He’s dressed head to toe in uniform, the sleeves rolled up to expose his veiny forearms, tattoos and all, and it’s clear that he’s on his way out to patrol. You didn’t know he was really patrolling again, but then again, it doesn’t seem like they were getting anywhere on your case, and well… you don’t talk much these days. Like always when he’s near, your heart rate picks up, and your skin heats under his hands despite the fabric between you.

“Uh, sorry,” you apologize, looking away. You know you’re normally a pretty good actress, but today, you just feel too wound up and on edge. Jeongguk holds onto your arms, his observant eyes gazing over you.

“Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Everything’s fine,” you say with a nod, glancing at Sana. “But we need to go.”

But Jeongguk doesn’t give up. “There’s something’s going on, isn’t there?”

“No,” you lie again.

“You’re making me worried.”

“You don’t need to be.”

His gaze flickers between you and Sana, and even though you don’t think he’s completely buying it, he lets go. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you find out anything.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, already moving away. Technically, you being ‘off’ can simply be explained by the fact that you’re not entirely comfortable around him.

After getting rid of Jeongguk, you and Sana enter the station’s parking garage. The personnel floor is empty, save for about twenty to thirty vehicles, Jeongguk’s motorcycle included. Still, you make sure to look around before you start.

“What did the car look like?” you ask, peering through the back window of the closest one, a small dark blue car.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out much besides the color and size. It was black and a pretty small one, I think.”

You look around. Almost all cars are black. Or at least dark enough to be mistaken for black. "Do we even know what his actual car looks like?"

“Well... Let’s just check all of them. Just to be safe.”

Even though you make sure to check carefully, the process goes quickly. Until Sana calls your name quietly, the black car in front of her being her sixth or seventh.

“That could be it, right?” she points toward something barely visible, halfway under the passenger seat. But yeah, it looks like black fabric, maybe part of a small bag, but you can’t be entirely sure.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“If we could only look inside,” Sana mutters.

“Yeah,” you sigh, your shoulder dropping in disappointment. “But all he did was maybe pick up a bag of unknown contents outside. It’s not enough. Should we just check the rest of them and then head back?”

Sana nods, “I’ll finish this row.”

Jihyo is still in her office when you return, having found nothing but the maybe-bag. She’s pacing on the phone to someone, motioning for you to enter when you cautiously peek your head through the door.

“Okay… Just get back to me as soon as you can, alright?” she says, sitting down behind her desk. “Yeah, okay, bye.”

“We saw what we think could be the bag, halfway hidden under the seat of a car that looks about the one the man got into,” Sana explains quietly after you’ve closed the door behind you.

“Okay, so nothing’s ruled out and nothing’s confirmed,” Jihyo concludes.

You nod, trying to think of the next steps. “Well, what if we review the camera footage? We were probably too far away, but you never know, right? And Jihyo, you could check the schedules and work hours, start cross-checking them with the calls responded to. I’ll see if I can dig up anything else about him.”

For a few hours, you work in Jihyo’s office, all three of you focused. Jihyo sits behind her desk, trying to see if she can match JJ to specific calls on any recent fifteenths and thus provide him with an alibi.

Sana sits in a chair on the other side of the desk, her laptop open in front of her as she goes through every frame of your recordings, and you sit on the floor, back against the wall, scrolling through both your phone and laptop.

“Finding anything?” Sana wonders, sighing in frustration–a sign that the recordings aren’t giving her anything useful.

“Maybe…” Jihyo replies, eyes locked on her screen. “Can you read line thirty-seven for me?” She hands Sana a sheet of paper listing the calls.

“Sure. Uh… Call about vandalism came at six twenty-seven a.m., reported closed at eight thirty-two. October fifteenth, last year.”

“Six twenty-seven to eight thirty-two,” Jihyo repeats as you scroll through JJ’s instagram, clicking on yet another tagged friend.

“Mhm,” Sana hums.

“Well, he was clocked in… But it seems like… yeah, Min and Mark were the ones who responded to it.”

The room feels… tense in a way, something Jihyo is about to put into words. Meanwhile, you focus on your phone, fingers tapping away quickly and your heartbeat rising.

“Doesn’t seem like we can rule him out. Which, you know, sucks because we all trust him–maybe trusted him–and we don’t want yet another one to have betrayed us. But if it is him, then maybe… we might finally be getting somewhere? Maybe?”

“Yeah, I agree. Don’t like the direction we’re moving in, but at least we’re moving.”

“Hey, guys,” you say, your eyes still glued to the screen in your hands. “JJ has a stepsister named Jimin.”

“What?” Sana exclaims, her voice hushed and eyes wide as she turns to you.

“Yeah. JJ’s mom seems to be dating this Jimin’s dad, but it doesn’t look like they’re married; not even like they live together.”

“So there are no ties on paper?”

“No, no ties.”

All three of you exchange silent looks, realizing what this could mean. You might have an address.

After discussing your findings–all hushed voices and big eyes as you conclude that, yeah, maybe Jimin visited her brother at the station and stumbled across Hoseong–you decide to take a break. You need to pee and Sana complained only a minute ago of her rumbling stomach. To be fair, you haven’t had time to take any real breaks, much less eat.

Determined, you leave the office, discreetly looking around before heading toward the bathroom. Sana leaves for the cafeteria.

After using the bathroom, you sit on the closed toilet lid to gather your thoughts. It almost feels like you need to catch your breath, too. Do you dare hope that you might finally get them? Still, you find yourself imagining what you’d do if that were the case. It’s not like they’ve haunted you for decades, but even a few months stretching into years feels like such a long time. A lifetime, almost. You experienced life at the station before everything went down, but is it even possible to return to that? Maybe it isn’t; you’re not the same person anymore.

Still thinking deeply about what this revelation might mean, you head back toward Jihyo’s office. Occasionally–like now–the white halls are empty, but as you approach the wooden door with the frosted window, you hear voices inside. They’re not abnormally loud per se, but louder than they should be.

You open the door, and for a moment, the voices fall silent. Already back, Sana stands with a Saran-wrapped bread bun and coffee in her hands. Jihyo sits behind her desk as usual, her laptop open and the call papers scattered across her normally tidy desk. And Jeongguk is standing in front of it, still in his uniform, wild eyes looking back at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything for the better,” you say, stepping in fully and closing the door behind you. “You’re with the guys more than we are. We don’t want them to find out.”

“There’s a risk anyway,” he says, turning to Jihyo, “We need to go there as soon as possible.”

Jihyo meets his gaze, her expression understanding but firm. “Jeongguk, like I said, we need to wait for backup. We’re understaffed, and there’s too much of a risk that they’ll recognize you. Besides, all of you inside this room are too emotionally involved at this point.”

His hands fly out, and though he tries to keep his voice down, frustration seeps through. “They were allowed to watch JJ accept a bribe in the first place?” he argues.

“Yes, and that was risky enough. If they recognize you, they’ll probably try to kill you. They’ve got nothing to lose, and you’re the reason they’re in this mess to begin with. Just hang in there until backup arrives.”

He shakes his head in frustration and disbelief. “This is crazy. They’ve tried to kill her so many times, and someone connected to them is still here. For all we know, he could be planning something on their behalf as we speak!”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I understand you’re frustrated; we all are, but this is the best course of action.”

He gestures toward you, “She needs to leave in that case. She can’t stay here.”

To be honest, you’re not that scared of JJ. He’s never seemed particularly interested in you, and you don’t think he’s planning to kill you or anything like that. Months have passed without you even suspecting he might be involved, and nothing has happened. Sure, you were mostly with Jeongguk until recently and not that often at the station, so while the opportunities might not have been plentiful, JJ has had his chances.

Jihyo sighs, leaning back in her chair. “It’s up to her.”

He turns to face you fully. “Come stay with me? Take a week off, stay at my place.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m staying at my place, and I’ll continue to work if I feel like it.”

“Please?”

You’ll never stop being surprised at how easily Jeongguk lets go of his pride. But by doing it so quickly, with so few reservations, it’s almost as if he grows in your eyes. You try not to think about him in that way.

You shake your head. “I don’t want you to think that you need to save me all the time. I’ll be fine on my own.”

He glances around at the three women in the room, none giving him the support he wants. He looks like he wants to say something, but suddenly, someone calls for him on his com radio.

“Go,” Jihyo instructs as Jeongguk gives you one last longing look before quickly exiting through the door.

Jeongguk can’t shake the new information, and as the day progresses, it keeps gnawing at him, his mind turning over every possible option again and again. While that last call–regarding a break-in—kept him distracted for a bit, his thoughts return as he enters the station again, Min heading off to the cafeteria.

He knows you’ve already gone home by the time he’s clocking out and heading for the locker room, still unsure of what to do. It terrifies him to know that there’s still someone who might want to hurt you, walking these halls. That he missed someone.

He’s got three options to choose from. The first: go home. Get some sleep. Or at least try to get some sleep. And then just hope that JJ didn’t spot you this morning and is waiting to attack you outside your apartment door. Jeongguk knows that it’s what you want him to do; go home and not get involved. But he’ll never forgive himself if something happens to you.

Option two is to drive to your apartment and sit in his car outside it all night. He’ll do it if needed, but it’s not very tempting, and it’ll render him useless at work tomorrow. Additionally, if nothing happens tonight–which, yeah, it might not–then he’ll need to guard you the night after as well. Sooner or later, he’ll need to sleep.

Biting his lip, he enters the locker room, taking a lap to make sure he’s alone before pulling out his phone. Google gives him the number to the nearest car rental, and he wastes no time, pressing ‘dial.’

He’s picking option three, and he needs a car that isn’t his.

author's note: i hope you liked it!! <3<3

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mister0ctopus · 1 month ago

Text

Server Room (1)

mini series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary: Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Smut (X), Office au, Mini Series

Word Count: 1.5K

Note: I wanted to write more, seems like this is my hyperfocus rn, but I’m sick, you guys. I skipped our company’s year-end party tn, so here I am typing with snot, lol. Hope you enjoy this, please let me know what you think! More to come. 😊

🐙 Masterlist / AskMeeeeee!!!

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

The office floor buzzes with the noise of chatter and the clicking of keyboards. Four more hours to go, and you’re free from this torture. Work has been exhausting lately, with everyone scrambling to finish everything before year-end.

You’ve been typing furiously, finishing a report you need to present tomorrow, but when you hit the Enter key, nothing happens…

And as if the world is playing tricks on you, your screen turns blue…

Enter. Esc. asoyjebcvbcjkv.

No! No no no!

You stare at it in disbelief. You worked so hard on this report—there’s no way it didn’t save, right???

You suddenly stand up and rush to one of your friends at work, and your go-to guy in IT, Yoongi.

You open the door to the IT department and let out an exaggerated sigh before plopping down next to Yoongi’s desk. He’s wearing huge headphones and tinkering with a motherboard.

“I need your magical powers right now. You can retrieve my report after this thing died on me, right?” you say, shoving your laptop toward him.

Yoongi looks up at you, eyes wide in surprise.

“Oh… you’re not Yoongi.”

“Oh—uhm…” not-Yoongi stammers, quickly pulling off his headphones, clearly startled by your sudden appearance.

Big, round eyes stare at you for a moment, like a deer in headlights.

After a few seconds, you stand up, gently pulling your laptop away from his face.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were Yoongi. Is he—”

“He’s not here. He’s on PTO for a week. The rest of the team went to check the new equipment coming in. Uh— I’m new here,” he says, almost too quickly, before gulping nervously. “I started last week…” His words trail off abruptly, as if realizing he’s said too much.

“Oh! Right. I forgot about his PTO. Vacation. Yeah. Uhm…” You laugh at yourself, realizing you completely forgot about Yoongi’s vacation. He’s going fishing and camping with Jin, his brother, and wow, that actually sounds amazing. You really need a vacation too, but goddamn it, the report, YN! You really need that report!

“Yes. Report. I really really need your help. I’m YN btw, and you’re…?”

“Jungkook,” he says in a breathy voice.

“Right. Hi, Jungkook. I didn’t realize there was a new guy in IT. So, listen... my laptop just died, and I really need your help retrieving a report I’ve been working on for days. I’d be so grateful... please?” you smiled sweetly as you subtly leaned in, because lord, you’re desperate and running out of time.

He nods quietly and places your laptop on his desk. He inspects the device and types a few keys. After a few seconds, still without looking at you, he says, “I need to run some tests. It may take a while…”

“How long exactly?” You nervously bite your lip. There’s no way this report can’t be retrieved. You have no backup, obviously relying on the laptop to save everything.

“Maybe... tomorrow? I—I’ll try to fix it,” Jungkook stammers, his cheeks slightly pink as he types a few commands.

“No!” You cut him off a little too quickly, then softened your tone to control the panic rising in your chest. “I have a presentation first thing tomorrow, and I need it today. Tonight, at the latest.”

He still doesn’t look at you, focusing on the device.

“I’ll try my best. You can come back later before you go home.” That’s all he says before turning his chair away from you.

You were about to further insist on the urgency of this matter, but you don’t want to push him more. You’re at the mercy of this guy, and he’s the only one who can help you right now.

You nod, trying to keep your frustration in check. "Okay, I’ll be back before 5 pm." you say, giving him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Jungkook. I appreciate it.”

He simply nods back, still not making eye contact as he focuses on the device.

You leave the IT department, your mind racing as you think about how to explain to your boss if the report can’t be recovered.

4:07pm

You glanced at the clock for the eleventh time since leaving the IT room, your anxiety growing with each passing minute. You couldn’t wait any longer to find out if the laptop was fixed, so you decided to head back to the IT room, only to find it empty.

“Jungkook?” you call softly.

The room is small, with only four desks, so it’s easy to tell that no one is there—no one except for you.

You turn to leave when your eyes catch another door with a sign that reads “Server Room.”

Jungkook must be in there, so you approach the door and push it open. But just as soon as you step inside, you hear angry grunts and heavy breathing, as if someone is straining.

A sense of panic rushes over you, as though you’re not supposed to be here—should you be here?

You freeze, unsure of what to do next, but then you notice movement behind one of the racks directly in front of you. Colorful inked hand moves erratically, tugging at something angrily.

Up, down, forward, backward...

You hear the grunts shift into groans, and the heavy breathing turns into soft whines.

You hear slick, wet sounds and the pounding of your own heart. You know you’re not supposed to be looking, yet you can’t tear your eyes away.

Your eyes shift from his busy hands to his strained face, where you notice Jungkook biting his lip to stifle more sound from eliciting, his lip ring catching the light on his every movement, and you feel wetness soil you in your center, so you press your thighs together to try and soothe it.

You close your eyes because god why is this so wrong, and so fucking hot?

And you clench your cunt around nothing as you hear him call your name in the most strained voice, almost sounding like a plea.

“Fuck… YN, oh god of god oh goddd!” he whined, movements quicker now.

Your face goes numb with shock from the vulgarity, and you struggle to steady your breath as you quietly storm out of the server room, praying he didn’t notice you at all.

You hurriedly walk back to your desk, a wave of shame washing over you for what you saw and what you're feeling, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and need.

You fix your already neat hair, hoping no one notices the chaos you're feeling, but what you don’t realize is that Jungkook saw you leave the room, and that made him cum harder as he imagined his firm hands being your soft and wet hole instead.

Still shaken from the incident, you finally gather yourself at exactly 5 PM and make your way back to the IT room. Desperation fuels your steps—there’s no way you can let what you saw, and the way it made you feel, stop you from retrieving your laptop.

As you step inside the room, expecting a dismissive Jungkook to greet you, you instead collide with something solid—a chest.

Jungkook’s chest.

Visuals of him from a few minutes ago flash through your mind, and you let out a small gasp. He is smirking, but his expression remains unreadable—a stark contrast to the shy and aloof Jungkook you had initially met.

"I fixed it. Your data is all there. I also made sure you're logged into the reporting CRM, so your presentation pulls real-time data via API. Basically—you have a backup," he said matter-of-factly, his tone professional—but his eyes are anything but.

He handed you the device, and you hesitantly took it, still processing everything.

With a sigh of relief, you offered him a sweet smile, your voice soft as you thanked him. "Thank you, Jungkook. You saved my life. I owe you," you murmured, though your mind was still racing, unable to shake the earlier scene.

He nodded and remained quiet, simply watching you with a sly grin on his lips, his expression still unreadable.

The tension was unbearable. Unable to take it any longer, you quickly mumbled another "thanks" and made your exit.

When you finally reached home, exhaustion settled in, but relief quickly followed. You’d been running on adrenaline all day, but now that it was done, you could finally breathe. The changes Jungkook made were a game-changer—it fed you real-time data seamlessly, saving you hours of work.

After adding the final touches to your presentation for tomorrow, you got ready for bed. You couldn’t help but feel a mix of gratitude and awe as you closed your laptop for the night.

But your mind betrayed you—thoughts of Jungkook still lingered in your brain, refusing to let you rest.

His tattooed arm around his hardness…

The way his chest heaves…

The way he was beating his dick for you…

The way he sounded, his groans, his moans…

How the slick and wet noise filled the air…

How he looked so angry biting his lips, brows furrowed in frustration…

His dark hair stuck to his damp forehead…

The lip piercing that you were sure would feel cold against your warm folds…

You touch yourself with desperate need, pumping two fingers inside as your other hand circles your clit.

You yell his name over and over, as you buck your hips, feeling your release drench you further. Then you drift into slumber in soiled underwear and a sweet sweet smile, knowing you’ll see him again tomorrow.

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onlyswan · 1 year ago

Note

i’m back to give you my iw!couple brain rot 🤲, please handle with care.

but !! imagine jungkook and oc doing that “see how long we can go without kissing” challenge !! how would fold first? they’re both so competitive but smitten it makes me conflicted. 😣😣

knowing them, jungkook would be twitching his eye just from the thought of being deprived kissies so would oc give in first to let him win? or would jungkook just take what’s his?? 🤔

imagine oc being a blushing mess from staring at jungkook’s face for too long 😵‍💫 THEYRE SO CUTE I CANT THINK STRAIGHT😭🫶

summary: in which jungkook is twenty-six years old and yet… you still give him butterflies.

idol!jk x reader, established relationship / word count: 0.7k

content/warnings: sexual tension, making out, it’s honestly just them fighting over who gets to be on top

> in which masterlist!

note: hehe hi anonie… sorry… i kindaaa got carried away… i had to write out the thing or else i would’ve gone insane just talking about it <3 (written with love and care) <3

—

“i don’t understand this challenge.”

“me neither,”

jungkook remains in a hypnotic-like trance, doe eyes trained to your lips stained with a lighter shade of mixed red and brown.

“we’re this close and we can’t kiss…? this is absurd.”

“do they actually do this in bed? with someone on top?” you chuckle as you coyly twirl a lock of his hair around your finger. “i don’t think so?”

“i don’t know. i just wanted you to be comfortable.” he teasingly brushes his nose against yours, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended. “since, you know, we’ll be here a while.”

“oh wow. bringing me to bed, really? you’re that confident?”

he cockily raises an eyebrow. “hm, we both know you won’t be able to resist me here. you’re all over me all the time.”

you try not to roll your eyes in annoyance. and you also both know that you’re just as competitive, if not more.

“oh my god, you,” you mumble. the calm of your voice contrasts the aggressive push of your hand against your boyfriend’s naked chest. “and your stupid arrogance and your stupid need to flaunt your stupid hot body.”

in the blink of an eye, jungkook finds you stradding him, and himself, trapped underneath your body. he blinks in disbelief, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“this is dirty.”

you remove his glasses, moving it aside without care. “that’s just your mind.”

okay, perhaps bringing you to bed was a bad idea.

you lean down, slowly, close and then closer— it’s quite ridiculous that he’s nervous as if he doesn’t know what is bound to happen next: he’s thoroughly convinced that you’re going to kiss him.

once he feels your lips ghost over his, mere millimeters away, his eyelids flutter shut.

terrible idea. terrible.

the kiss, much to his disappointment, never happens.

he opens his eyes and your face is suddenly tucked in the space between his neck and shoulders, giggling and shaking and positively amused.

he turns away and squeezes his eyes shut. a painful admit of defeat against your infinite allure. “ah, i’m fucked.”

“we’ll get there later,” you lift your head, tilting his chin to face you.

you smile and scoot closer. so close that your bottom lips grazes his. he fails to remember the last time the two of you touched as chastely, as softly, but it felt like accidentally touching a live wire. he gets a funny feeling in his stomach. butterflies…? he’s twenty-six years old. he must be losing his mind.

“after you lose.”

“that’s not happening, baby.”

“yes, it will.”

“i won’t give up so easily.”

you give him an innocent look. “but i really think you will.”

you stare at each other for a little while, anticipating the other’s next move.

“fuck- yeah, okay-” he grits his teeth, taking advantage of his strength to finally flip back your positions. you’ve had your fun. “you’re right.”

“babe! ru-”

your surprised gasp is cut off by jungkook’s lips crashing on yours— curved into a smirk, you can feel it. your whines are muffled and swallowed by him, wrists caught in his hands and over your head because you were hitting his shoulder and he just wanted to kiss his baby properly.

“you lost,” you remark quietly when he draws back, only inches away, to scatter kisses along your face and down to your neck.

it tickles, you squirm in pleasure when he reaches near your collarbone, but your hands are still tied.

you were supposed to have him underneath you as a hot and flustered mess, not the other way around. damn it.

“really?” he feigns interest, lips finding their way back to yours. “doesn’t feel like it.”

#art’s post office ☁️#jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook one shot #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts reaction

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lo1k-diamonds · 4 months ago

Text

Stellar Behavior 💜 Part 1

“What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”

PAIRING: Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader

SUMMARY: Yoongi has been in the police force for long enough to know that the system isn’t perfect, so when an injustice is about to put his protégé in jail, he has no other choice but to go to you. You’re the devil, but you’re hard to resist, and he needs to decide between falling into temptation or showing you that two can play the game.

WORD COUNT: 4.8k

GENRE: Gangster AU, Law AU, enemies to lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: corruption, power dynamics, blackmail, threats w/ a knife, slight degradation, sexual favors, oral (f rec)

A.N. I'm soooo excited, this fic is 🔥 Infinite thank yous to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for working through my crazy and being incredible! Enjoy 🔥🔥

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | Next Chapter >

Yoongi huffed and threw his eyeglasses onto the keyboard, rubbing his eyes so roughly he saw lights. It was no use; no matter how much he went over the evidence, again and again, he couldn’t change it.

“Hyung.”

He uncovered his eyes, only to be met with Taehyung’s sadness. His shoulders sagged from the sleepless nights ever since Jimin had gotten arrested, with dark circles bringing even more desolation to his otherwise heavenly features. He knew it wasn’t Taehyung’s intention, but the sight only unnerved Yoongi even more.

“Go home, get some sleep.”

Taehyung flinched, “But—”

“That’s an order, Officer.”

Taehyung stiffened and instantly bowed and showed his respects to his Superintendent before turning and leaving. Only then did Yoongi heave a deep breath and observe around him. It was weird seeing his department at the police station empty, without the officers at their desks taking calls or doing paperwork while on one of their 24-hour shifts. But they had all been shaken up, and so he had sent them home.

He was proud of his Division, and as their Chief, he couldn’t be more certain of everyone’s conduct and character. This included Jimin’s, and it was the reason why he was losing his mind over this case.

No matter how much he reviewed the footage and evidence, there was no mistake — Officer Jimin had seemingly shot his partner dead during an arrest gone wrong. This was a natural conclusion, judging by the body camera of the now deceased cop, Officer Junghee, that had captured Jimin nearing him with a fuming pistol in his hand. One that matched the ballistics report on Yoongi’s desk.

This was why the prosecution wanted to charge him with manslaughter at the very least, but Yoongi could not be convinced. The body camera also captured the panic in Officer Jimin’s voice and expression as he tried to save his downed partner. Yoongi didn’t care if that was Jimin’s gun or if it was fuming in his hand — he didn’t believe it.

“It wasn’t me!” The words Jimin shouted as he was arrested conveyed an absolute world of hurt and combined with the shock in Jimin’s eyes was seared into Yoongi’s retinas, causing him to dig the heel of his hands into his eyes again. But no matter how much he attempted to change the image, it wouldn’t. Jimin, his protégé, was still being handcuffed and taken away while begging, “I didn’t, you have to believe me! He put it in my hands! Hyung!”

Yoongi nudged his eyeglasses off the keyboard, locked his computer, and grabbed his coat. On long nights like these, he didn’t bother staying in uniform, only wearing black pants with a white shirt and his badge and holster belt. He made his way outside and got into his car, acknowledging whoever he met along the way. Temperatures were freezing, and his car didn’t start immediately. He reached for his nicotine gum while he waited for the car to warm up. When it finally started, so did the 3 AM news on the radio right as he left the parking lot.

“In a shocking revelation, an officer from the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency shot his partner dead after pulling up to a suspicious vehicle in Dongjak District. The mounting evidence is undeniable, and the prosecution is discussing the potential penalty in such a case, with the spokesperson revealing in a press conference that while mistakes happen, justice needs to be served.”

Yoongi kept chewing and driving as the prosecutor’s voice echoed through the speakers. On the outside, Yoongi was the picture of calm, cool, and collected, but inside, he was fuming. He had spoken with the prosecutor many times, who preferred a clean-cut arrest to build his case to run for whatever political role he was after rather than fight for justice, as he claimed. Yoongi had always known that multiple interests abound in the justice system, but now he was starting to get pissed.

When he parked the car, he looked outside through the windshield, observing quietly as the people moved in and out of the Aether. The bouncers kept drunks at bay, and despite the booming music and the flashy lights, everything looked normal for a nightclub.

He removed his belt and badge, shoving them in the glove compartment so hard that something fell out. He reached to grab it from the floor, his frown instantly turning into a scowl. It was a photo of him hugging a woman, laughing, taken many years ago when they were still happy. When they were not even married yet, let alone divorced.

He got out of the car and ripped the photo into as many tiny pieces as possible, dropping the scraps in a trashcan along with his gum. Then he stopped in front of the bouncers with his hands in his pockets, saying six little special words.

“I want to see the boss.”

The first bouncer just scoffed a laugh and shook his head, but the second one eyed him from head to toe, “If you’re here to inspect, then you have to identify yourself first.”

“Not an inspection,” Yoongi said nonchalantly, glancing around. “It’s not an official visit.”

The smirking bouncer kept the flow of the people going in and out while the serious one, resembling the first almost to a T, pressed his earpiece further into his ear, waiting for orders. Yoongi had noticed the cameras already while he was walking up, and he wondered how long it would take for them to know exactly who he was and why he was there.

The serious bouncer moved closer to him, “Are you armed?”

“No.”

“I have to make sure.”

Yoongi glanced at him, then nodded, raising his hands as he let the man make sure he was unarmed. When the tall man rose from his knees after checking Yoongi’s ankles, he lowered his arms and waited for the goon to catch his breath.

“Alright, you can go in.”

He moved past the bouncers and into the entryway, but he hadn’t even made it to the coat check when someone approached him. Just by the light clothing, styled hair, and badge hanging on his belt, Yoongi could immediately tell that the man worked there.

“Follow me.”

Yoongi wasn’t there to sightsee, but he could appreciate the columns and marble structures and statues. Along with the paintings, velvet curtains, and carpets, it made the Aether look like a temple or divine abode of the Gods. The aesthetic intensified as they went up the stairs, but he didn’t have time to register much. In a second, he was walking into what appeared like an ordinary office — a pleasant space with a large desk at the center in front of huge dark windows that showed the lights flashing from the dance floor. He ignored the liquor table, the cabinets with files, and the black velvet sofas to the side. What his eyes were immediately drawn to was you — you who had pushed the large computer screen to the side so you could watch him come in. Your chin rested graciously on your intertwined fingers, with your elbows on the desk, eyes flickering with amusement, watching him through dark curled lashes. He hadn’t even noticed he had walked to your desk or that the door had closed behind him, but then you stood up, letting your delicate arms fall alongside your tight black dress. Your black, straight hair slid over your shoulders, framing the plunging cleavage of your dress, and when you smiled, he felt hot—molten hot.

“Welcome, Superintendent,” you smiled with a glint of amusement, your perfect teeth shining in the overhead light, and he clenched his fists behind his back. “Or should I say Yoongi? I was told you weren’t here in an official capacity, but…” You eyed him from head to toe, and he did his best to stay poised and calm. “You don’t look like you’re here to club.”

Yoongi was already sweating, not out of nervousness but because of you. Because you always eyed him like you owned him, always had a hint of mischief to every smile, and were always as elusive as a ghost. One he couldn’t catch and had grown tired of running after.

Still, hearing his name in your mouth for the first time… made him pull on the collar of his shirt, “Not here to party; I’m here on business.”

Your eyebrow twitched, and he looked at you seriously; you were a cunning fox of the worst kind. Worse than a weed, than a pest, than the bloody smoke still hanging in the air and making his fingers twitch. He had a simple goal, and he had to stay focused.

“Not an official visit, but you’re here on business…” you mused out loud then shrugged. “Soon, it will be four in the morning,” you revealed with a hint of disdain as you neared the table that held liquor in crystal decanters. “Surely, if you wanted to do something official, you’d wait at least three more hours?” You chuckled as you poured a finger of whiskey into a glass. “Want some?” He shook his head, and you shrugged again. You made your way back to your desk, but instead of going around it, you perched on the side of it, close enough for him to see your dress parting, giving hints of your upper thighs, “What can I do for you, Chief?”

Yoongi had nerves of steel; he ignored the lush skin of your thighs, the cleavage, the numbing sound reverberating through the walls, the dimmed lights, and the way your eyes seemed to challenge him with every blink.

He focused, “I want your help.”

Your eyes widened comically, the image of innocence and confusion, “Mine? What could such a powerful person need from me?”

Thankfully, your coy attitude irritated him and helped him concentrate. “I know the suspicious car they were chasing was one of yours.”

Your eyes widened even more, but this time, you brought your glass to your lips to hide a smile, “My, my, Officer. I know I have many cars, but to say I was a fugitive—”

“You know what I mean,” his jaw clenched, and you licked your lips.

“I don’t,” you could only smile, and he clenched his fists again. There it was. It pissed the fuck out of him. “Are you going to arrest me, Chief? Make good use of those deduction skills of yours and put pretty handcuffs around my wrists?”

He hated that his heart jumped in his chest as you whispered salaciously and leaned into him, shortening the distance between you. He hated how tempting you looked, and he hated the way your eyes fixed on his, as if you were ready to follow suit with your provocation. You were probably a tease like that with everyone all the time. It pissed him off even more.

He only blinked, ever the master of showing a relaxed demeanor, “I have no evidence to arrest you, nor am I here in that capacity.”

It instantly hit him, as you straightened your back and finished the drink in your hand, that he was going to have to ask for your help. Not outsmart you, not convince you, not squabble with half facts and hunches — he needed your help and that meant he had to come down off his pedestal.

“My— An officer from my team will be sentenced for something he didn’t do. I’m out of options; I’ve hit a dead-end.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as you put down the empty glass, “Don’t tell me — the system he holds and protects with his life won’t even try to prove his innocence.”

His jaw clenched; he hated that you weren’t completely wrong. “I’m trying to prove his innocence.”

The corners of your mouth twitched in a smile. “What makes you think I can help?”

He kept his mouth closed for a thoughtful moment. There was no use in accusing you again. Your smile wasn’t sly, so he decided to go for it. “You’re one of the biggest players.”

“Me?” You acted surprised, “I just own a few businesses here and there…”

“They say you’re the one to contact for information.” You tilted your head, and he insisted, “Even if that wasn’t your car, you’d know about it because it was on your turf. You’re you. I just know you know something that can help us solve this.”

That answer seemed to satisfy you because your lips and eyes revealed a small yet genuine smile that caught his breath. It made him realize he was leaning towards you now, exposing himself like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. Not when you looked at him like that, feeding into his hope.

“Say I do,” you started, eyes fixed on his. “Say I have evidence that could exonerate Officer Park.” He snapped straight; he had never told you the name of the Officer, and the media didn’t know it either. Yet what got him were your words, “Why would I help you?”

He clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth clicked. He just about growled with the way irritation mixed with his desperation, making him reel.

“Come on, Chief. Talk to me,” you pressed, wanting him to push through both the shock and the stick up his ass. “You must be desperate enough if you’re asking for my help, and I’m not denying it. I’m saying I might have what you need. What would you do to save an innocent from prison for life or worse?”

He didn’t think, “You have it? Something that could undeniably prove his innocence?”

He knew before he was done asking that it was impossible and that he was acting crazy. Yet, you leaned into him, meeting him halfway, your breath hitting his chin, “In those exact words? I do.” You sat back and let your words sink in, not knowing they gave him a full-body shudder. He always knew you were powerful and had your ways, but holy shit— “What do you have that I want?”

He opened his mouth but instantly closed it. Objectively, he had nothing. But maybe there was something he could do. First, though, he needed to know it was real. “What evidence do you have? Show it to me—”

“Hmmm, no,” you pressed your lips and twisted your nose, displeased. “That’s not how this works. This is based on trust. Besides, you don’t seem to have anything to offer.”

For a split second, he wondered if you were bullshitting him, but he honestly didn’t care. He had to do something. “You want something concrete for a maybe?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” your tone hardened as your expression lost humor.

“Alright, name it. Tell me what is worth your help.”

His tone was soft, and it worked to soothe you. His dark eyes helped; there was so much willingness in them, and you liked that. The man there asking for your help to correct an injustice was the kind of man you were looking for.

“Since you asked,” you cheekily started, pulling your hair behind your shoulders. “I want three things.” He didn’t even blink, so you continued, “The first is a favor. Of my choice and at my discretion whenever I shall need it. The second is for you to get on your knees. And the third is for you to eat.”

He blinked, “What?” He looked down to follow your hands over your thighs, and you spread your legs for him, though the black dress covered between them. He shook his head in bewilderment, “You’re crazy!”

“Crazy?” You chuckled, “I think I’m being quite reasonable.”

“You— Do you hear what you’re asking?”

He sounded breathless and could feel the heat on his cheeks, which was not ideal. He almost managed to step back, but a quirk of your eyebrow kept him still — he needed that evidence.

“Oh my, Chief Min. Are you getting heated at the thought of a couple of favors?” He scoffed, and you continued your tease, “Or is it the knees? Too proud to beg?”

“No, not too proud,” he mumbled between teeth. He was ready to kneel on the floor and beg, and the heat rising in his neck told him the rest wasn’t a problem either. And that was the problem. “The favor—” He cleared his throat, scratching it, “What is the favor?”

“I don’t know yet,” you shrugged, and it seemed to him like it didn’t matter. He knew that couldn’t be true, that had to be what you were really after — something specific from the Superintendent of the Seoul Metropolitan Police. And yet your eyes were shining in such a way that he almost forgot who you were. Almost.

“Something illegal, no doubt.”

You sighed and he took the moment to let the anger cool him — you were a criminal about to use his good intentions to surely accomplish something even worse. Instead of cooling him, irritation made him snap his knuckles and shift on his feet.

“I don’t know what it is, but it shouldn’t matter,” you said more coldly, squinting your eyes. “What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”

There was a hint of impatience in your tone that only riled him up more. He turned to you, “What’s stopping me from just—”

“You’re not that stupid,” you interrupted, raising your chin. His eyes noticed the surveillance cameras and you smirked, “They’re not who you should be concerned about.”

Your smile was predatory but he scoffed. You didn’t need to threaten him, and he didn’t like the coercion. He refused to look at you for a moment, giving you the impression that he was weighing his options. In reality, he was figuring out what angered him more — the fact that he was about to make a deal with a devil like you, or that he was that turned on from it.

You huffed and got off the desk, your heels clicking on the floor like a timer had just gone off. “Never mind—”

He grabbed your arm to keep you from walking away, and in a second, something sharp was poking his lower stomach. You both froze in place, your gaze angry and fixed on his, while his heart raced inside his chest. He didn’t let go of your arm, and you didn’t lower your knife.

“I never heard a yes from those pretty lips, so…” you spoke quietly, then pressed the blade harder. “Hands off.”

He knew you could put your money where your mouth was, and that if you wanted to kill him and get rid of him, you would. Yet, his grip didn’t lessen as he observed you. He was still trying to figure things out — not what to do, but you. He hated you objectively; you represented everything wrong with the world. Jimin was innocent; you shouldn’t be bargaining for his life, you should do the right thing. But you weren’t, you wanted to play with fire. Maybe even to get burned.

“What is it…” he started quietly, still eying your angry eyes. “Is it the risk? The humiliation? The footage for blackmailing me later? The power over a figure of authority?”

You scoffed, leaning in to answer just as quietly, “No risk, Chief. The footage might be insurance, but you’re a man of your word. No power over you because you’ll be doing it willingly. And no humiliation,” you chuckled. “It’s a privilege to eat at this table. Although…” You looked down, then smirked. “I can play if that’s what you like.”

He looked away from your eyes for the first time and almost flinched; his pants had a tent. He couldn’t even think; why was his body betraying him like this? He tried pulling away and letting you go, but you pressed the tip of your knife harder.

“Nuh-uh,” you whispered, taking a deep breath a little closer to his neck. “I heard the missus left cause you couldn’t get it up, but won’t you look at that—” Your tone was sly, and he gripped your arm harder in retaliation. You laughed, “I guess she just didn’t know how to play. Or maybe you like this,” your voice lowered wantonly, and a shiver ran up his spine as though he was starting to attune to it. “Like not having a choice, to be in danger, to be forced to do something reprehensible.”

He had to lick his lips because for a second he thought he was drooling, “I have a choice.”

You smiled and his cock twitched, “Then choose.”

He eyed your smile and leaned into you, but you chuckled and playfully pressed the tip of the knife to impose distance, ignoring the red droplets tainting the fabric.

“On your knees, Chief.”

His eyes snapped to yours, and he pulled you by the arm, disregarding the blade, so you’d walk back until the back of your thighs hit the desk. Then, he gripped your hips and helped you on the desk, fisting your dress in the same movement to get it out of the way as he kneeled between your legs. Your knife had slipped from your hand as you rested them on the desk for support, and you didn’t think to pick it back up. You wanted him to eat you and mean it, but he was going above and beyond — nuzzling your thighs and inhaling your scent, frantically fighting with your dress, and trying to pry your legs further apart so he could have access.

When his nose poked your clit, you jumped in place, and his fingers dug into your hips, even through the fabric of the dress. Just looking at the way he was fighting to get his mouth on you was positively melting you, but you wanted it to actually happen.

“Slide them down,” you breathed after he nuzzled and licked your core through your panties enough times to cover you with goosebumps.

He immediately obliged, and you shimmied to help him get rid of them. He threw them on the floor, then gripped your legs apart before giving you a look that seared you in place. You didn’t know what it was, but you were living for it, and the excitement burned your gut. The Superintendent looked like a piece of forbidden heaven between your thighs; who knew he’d have you melting like this just at the hint of doing what you asked?

A smirk spread on your lips as he kept struggling with your dress, until suddenly — rip. He bunched the fabric and pulled it, causing the slit that revealed your thigh to rip, and you chuckled. You liked that energy, that hunger; the way he was willing to destroy to have his way. Instantly, he had free leeway to uncover your core and press his mouth, rolling his tongue all over your slick folds.

You jolted with a sigh, gripping his hair at the back of his head. The more he laved his tongue over your slit to taste you, the more you had the urge to move, but you stayed still. With your eyes closed, you enjoyed every second of his discovery, from his licks to his tasting and humming. You heaved the breath you were holding when he nibbled your heat right before finding your clit to suckle, and your voice finally came out. You could almost laugh at how easily he had found his way, but your mind wasn’t there. While he found his rhythm, you guided him with expressive sighs, grazing your acrylic nails over his scalp without ever forcing him. You wouldn’t; his hunger was part of the power trip. Chief Min would eat you, give you what you wanted, and service you because you had that much power. You could bring someone like him to his knees. He liked it.

You suddenly pulled on his hair so he’d look up at you, and he did, not even bothering with a quizzical look. You bit your lip to stop a smile and relented your grip, and he looked down for a second. It was all it took for him to get back to it, and you let your head fall back with a sigh — case in point.

“The things you do for duty, Chief…”

His tongue kept laving over you as if you were desert, focused, regardless of your taunt. In fact, he seemed to have forgotten where he was or why because his hands started gently exploring your spread thighs. His fingers pressed to your curves and didn’t stop even when he felt the garter that held the knife you had used on him. Instead, he pulled on it, making it snap against your thigh, ripping a stronger moan from you.

It was then he realized you needed something stronger, so he pressed his face harder against your cunt, latched onto your clit, and started rutting into you. You were surprised but instantly melted, and your fingers curved around his hair. The grind of his lips pressing into you while his mouth held the suction was already maddening, but the thrumming of his tongue on your clit was the cherry on top. You didn’t have time to make it a challenge, or maybe you didn’t want to; his rhythm was perfect against your heat, and you moaned when it intensified. The strumming was precise and maddening, each tap firm and steady, giving you enough time to despair for the next one and moan when it came, leaving you to anticipate what would come next.

Your hips started moving on their own, and that was when you knew you had let go. There was no point in pretending he wasn’t doing it just like you wanted, or that you weren’t rolling into his face to feel him harder, forcing him to dig his long fingers into the flesh of your hips as he drank the slick melting out of you. The very sounds of his humming and licking drove the blood to your cheeks and emboldened your hips, messily humping against his mouth. You could feel the edge right before you, and every time you ground on his mouth, you thought that would be it.

“Fuck,” you groaned between teeth, looking down to find burning brown eyes drinking you more greedily than his hot mouth. He wasn’t stopping you or holding you back, he was letting you fuck his mouth however you wanted, and it popped you.

You let your head fall back and pressed his face to your cunt, your moans pitching higher when he sucked harder, as if to pull all the pleasure out of you like it was venom. He rode your climax with you, gripping your trembling legs around him as though he wished you’d smother him, and finally, you looked down. Your walls were still throbbing in the aftershocks when he dragged his tongue across you slowly, and you groaned through a smirk, then pulled him away by the hair.

“Easy there,” you smiled and let your legs down.

You quickly pulled your dress down to cover you again while your other hand raked through your long hair, putting it in place. He rose slowly to his feet with his eyes on you, and you didn’t even try hiding your heaving chest; he could see it well with such an observant gaze. His eyes were so intense that you shuddered and bit your lip, but avoiding them only landed your own on his evident arousal, and you smirked.

Looking up, for a moment, your taunt got caught in your throat. Min Yoongi looked the absolute best covered in your cum from nose to chin — deliciously ravenous.

You licked your lips, raising your hand to his face but stopping before you touched him. He mimicked you, his pink tongue collecting your slick over his lips while he focused on yours. Still, when your hand moved down, so did his eyes. You smirked, dodging his erection at the last second to hide your hand under your dress.

You hummed, closing your eyes as your fingers collected your wetness mixed with his saliva, and then brought them straight to your mouth. You licked them first, tasting what he did before putting them in your mouth and sucking.

You clenched, knitting your eyebrows as you realized how turned on you were. You were throbbing and craving something to push into you and fuck you senseless, and opening your eyes, you saw the same urge staring right back at you.

Your fingers left your mouth with a pop, and then you smiled, shaking your head, “Should have asked for a good fuck too.”

His dark eyes stayed on yours for a moment, and even when he wiped his chin with the back of his hand, they remained on yours. It was almost a taunt, and you grinned; you loved a good challenge, and even more the kind of fucking that lustful gaze promised. But you knew the worth of asking, and you were not going to come out losing.

“Maybe next time.”

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keehomania · 5 months ago

Text

cold case (미제 사건) — jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* 18+

in the quiet corridors of human thought, where shadows of philosophy and whispers of tradition intertwined, the concept of morality unfurled its intricate tapestry. once upon a time, in a world where the lines between right and wrong were delicately drawn by the hand of experience and belief, morality was more than a mere guide—it was a compass that directed the course of lives and shaped the destiny of societies.

in those days, moral philosophy emerged from the depths of contemplation, offering varied paths to discern the essence of good and evil. deontologists spoke of duty with a voice as steady as the unchanging stars, insisting that some actions were inherently right or wrong, irrespective of their outcomes. their moral landscape was marked by rules that stood like ancient pillars, unyielding in their presence. conversely, the consequentialists wandered a different terrain, where the terrain shifted with the tides of outcomes. to them, the morality of an action was painted by its results—an act was judged by whether it brought more happiness or less suffering. their ethics were a canvas of effects, where the final strokes determined the worth of every action.

in the gentle light of introspection, morality revealed itself as a complex and beautiful mosaic, guiding humanity through the labyrinth of life with wisdom and grace. each ethical theory, each moral rule, and each personal conviction contributed to a grand symphony of understanding, where the quest for distinguishing right from wrong continued to unfold with every choice and every action.

in the labyrinthine corridors of your childhood memories, the distinction between right and wrong was not always clear. as a young girl, you had often seen glimpses of your parents' secret lives—furtive conversations, hidden compartments in the house, and the occasional visitor who spoke in hushed tones. to you, these were nothing more than the quirks of a family that had its own peculiar ways. in your innocent eyes, every family had its secrets, and the clandestine nature of your parents' actions seemed like just another part of growing up.

you remembered vividly the sound of your parents' laughter echoing through the house, mingling with the clink of glasses and the rustling of crisp banknotes. it was a symphony of the life they led, a life that seemed vibrant and exciting. they spoke to you with a tenderness that belied the shadows lurking behind their smiles. their love for you was palpable, a warm embrace that seemed to protect you from the world’s harsher truths.

but as the years passed, the veil of innocence began to lift. the truth of your parents' double life slowly came into focus, revealing a stark reality. you learned that their involvement in the underground world of crime was not just a secret hobby but a consuming passion that eclipsed everything else. their love for you, though genuine, was overshadowed by their relentless pursuit of wealth and power. this pursuit, once cloaked in the guise of providing a better future, had ultimately led to their downfall.

as you sat alone in your room, you came across a broken-framed photograph of the three of you. the glass was cracked, and the edges of the frame were chipped, but the image within was still clear—a snapshot of a happier time. staring at that photograph, the weight of realization settled upon you like a shroud. you understood now that your parents' lives, while filled with moments of love and joy, were tainted by choices that led to their tragic end. their death was not a result of fate but of their unbridled greed and the dark paths they chose to walk.

it was in that moment of clarity, as you gazed at the broken photograph, that you fully comprehended the difference between right and wrong. the realization that their love was marred by their actions ignited a determination within you. you knew that the path you needed to take was one of integrity, justice, and righteousness. the shadows of your parents' lives would not define you; instead, you would forge a new legacy rooted in moral clarity and purpose.

determined to make a difference, you entered the police academy with a fierce resolve. the years spent there were a rigorous testament to your commitment. each day began before dawn, with physical training that tested your endurance and mental fortitude. the discipline of early mornings and grueling exercises sculpted your body and mind, preparing you for the challenges ahead.

in the classroom, you delved into the complexities of law and ethics, dissecting case studies and engaging in intense debates. your instructors imparted the knowledge and skills necessary to uphold justice, and you absorbed every lesson with a thirst for understanding. the theoretical aspects of criminal justice were balanced with practical exercises, where you simulated real-world scenarios, honing your investigative techniques and decision-making abilities. your fellow cadets became like family, bound together by shared struggles and aspirations. you formed lasting friendships forged in the fires of late-night study sessions and joint drills. the camaraderie was a source of strength and motivation, driving you to excel in both academics and fieldwork.

the graduation day arrived, a culmination of years of hard work and dedication. as you stood among your fellow graduates, clad in the uniform you had earned, the weight of the journey you had undertaken was both heavy and exhilarating. when your captain approached to congratulate the graduating class, you felt a surge of pride and accomplishment. each salute you offered was a testament to your commitment to justice, a silent vow to uphold the values you had come to cherish.

you knew exactly what you wanted to do with your newfound authority. your goal was to bring about the change you had envisioned—to be a beacon of hope in the complex, often shadowy world of law enforcement. the lessons learned from your past and the discipline honed in the academy had prepared you for the challenges that lay ahead. as you embarked on your journey as an officer, you carried with you the resolve to honor the ideals of justice and integrity, ensuring that your path would remain unwaveringly true.

as you stepped into the office for the first time, the familiar hum of activity greeted you. the room was bustling with the usual office clamor—phones ringing, papers rustling, and the murmurs of conversations. but as you approached your designated desk, a sense of unease quickly replaced your initial excitement.

your desk was positioned at the periphery of the room, a seemingly innocuous spot that did little to shield you from the stares of your new colleagues. the glances you received were not of welcome but of scrutinizing appraisal. the men who filled the office cast lingering, dismissive looks in your direction, their eyes saying more than their words ever could. it was clear that they were sizing you up, judging you not by your skills or qualifications but by your gender.

you didn't need to be an officer or possess any special insight to understand their thoughts. it was painfully evident that they underestimated you, their eyes reflecting a blend of skepticism and condescension. you loathed it, this patronizing attitude that seemed to seep through every glance and smirk. but you had learned long ago how to navigate such disdain. you knew that you were more than just flesh and blood, more than just a woman in a male-dominated field. you were a dedicated officer, and you refused to let their prejudices define you.

your resolve was tested almost immediately. a voice broke through the din of the office, sharp and mocking. “i sure hope you’re here to make us lunch,” one of the male officers said, his tone dripping with derision. his colleagues erupted into laughter, their mirth a jarring reminder of the chauvinistic attitudes that plagued your new workplace.

you didn’t flinch. instead, you fixed him with a steely gaze and replied, “i sure hope you’re okay with getting your ass beat.” the words were barely out of your mouth before you grabbed your stapler and, with a swift motion, hurled it towards him. it flew through the air with a precision that spoke volumes of your frustration and resolve.

the stapler struck him squarely on the side of his head. the room fell into stunned silence, broken only by the thud of the stapler hitting the floor. the officer, his face a mixture of shock and anger, glared at you. “you bitch,” he spat, advancing toward you with a menacing stride. but before he could reach you, an authoritative voice cut through the tension.

“it’s your first day, and you’re already asking to get fired.” you turned to see jeon jungkook standing in the doorway, his presence commanding immediate attention. his uniform was impeccably neat, his posture rigid, and his expression a mask of stern professionalism. jungkook’s eyes, cold and assessing, swept over the room before settling on the offending officer. “you’re no better,” he said, his voice carrying a sharp edge. “you’re lucky she didn’t crack your head open.” his gaze lingered for a moment longer, an unspoken warning hanging in the air, before he turned and left the room with a decisive click of the door.

the moment jungkook departed, you felt the weight of his words and the chill of his gaze. it was clear that he was not just any superior officer but someone who commanded respect through his unwavering dedication and strict demeanor. his reprimand had carried with it an authority that seemed to freeze the air in the room. you turned back to your desk, the echoes of the confrontation still reverberating in your mind. the office had returned to its usual clamor, but the atmosphere had shifted. the mocking glances had lessened, replaced by a wary respect that had not been there before. you were already making a mark, even on your first day, and you knew that the path ahead would be paved with both challenges and triumphs.

sitting down at your desk, you took a deep breath and began to organize your workspace. the clutter of papers and office supplies seemed to reflect the chaos of the morning, but you approached it with a sense of purpose. this was your domain now, and you were determined to make it your own. as you set about your tasks, you could feel the weight of the day’s events pressing upon you, but you remained resolute.

as you settled into your new role, the mountain of files and papers that awaited you seemed both daunting and strangely familiar. each document was a piece of the complex puzzle you were about to dive into, and you approached it with the meticulous attention to detail that had characterized your training. the room was a mosaic of activity, but your focus was anchored firmly on the paperwork before you. you organized the files into neat stacks, sorting through reports, case files, and memos with practiced efficiency. the air was filled with the rustle of paper and the occasional distant hum of conversation, a backdrop to your focused efforts. the scent of ink and paper was oddly comforting, a reminder of the countless hours you had spent in the academy honing your skills.

as you concentrated on cross-referencing details and updating case notes, you heard a voice break through the monotony. “don’t think too much about these assholes,” the voice said, warm and comforting despite the brashness of the comment.

you looked up from your work to see a man sitting across the room, his demeanor casual yet friendly. he had an easygoing smile that seemed to disarm the tension lingering in the office. you couldn’t help but scoff lightly. “i wasn’t planning to,” you replied, your tone carrying a hint of defiance.

the man’s smile widened, and he leaned back in his chair, exuding an air of easy confidence. “you’ve got a lot of patience,” he said, his tone genuinely admiring. “i’m jung hoseok, by the way.”

recognition flickered in your mind as you realized that hoseok was one of the cadets from the academy. you nodded with a smile. “i remember you. congratulations on graduating,” you said, your voice carrying the warmth of sincere admiration.

hoseok’s smile grew even broader. “thanks. and congratulations to you too. i’ve heard you’ve made quite an impression already.” you felt a wave of relief wash over you. amidst the zoo of office dynamics, it was refreshing to encounter someone who seemed genuinely kind and approachable. his presence was a welcome contrast to the hostile undercurrents you had faced earlier.

he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “but i should warn you about jungkook.” you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “why?” you asked, your tone curious but wary.

hoseok hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking towards the door as if ensuring no one else could overhear. “nothing is more important to jungkook than work itself,” he said finally, his voice tinged with a note of caution. you shrugged slightly, considering his words. “there’s nothing wrong with being dedicated to your work,” you replied, trying to maintain an open mind.

hia expression grew serious, and he continued, “it’s not just dedication. there’s not a line jungkook won’t cross to get his work done.” his gaze met yours with a gravity that underscored the seriousness of his warning. you let his words sink in, the implication clear. jungkook’s dedication to his work was not merely a matter of professional pride but a driving force that could lead to unpredictable and potentially dangerous decisions. the silence that followed was heavy with contemplation. you considered the balance between dedication and ethics, between doing what was necessary and adhering to the principles that guided you.

hoseok’s warning lingered in your thoughts as you returned to your desk, your mind processing the implications of his words. the office buzzed around you, the normalcy of daily tasks juxtaposed against the undercurrents of tension and intrigue that marked your new environment. with a renewed sense of resolve, you continued with your work, aware of the complexities that lay ahead.

the evening air was crisp as you stepped out of the office building, eager for a moment of respite. the fading sunlight cast long shadows, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, and you welcomed the solitude as you approached your parked car. the comforting solitude of the parking lot offered a temporary escape from the whirlwind of office life, and you relished the chance to smoke in peace. you leaned against the cool metal of your car, pulling a cigarette from your pack with practiced ease. as you lit it and took your first drag, you glanced around, appreciating the brief silence that enveloped you. the soft crackle of the cigarette was a small solace amidst the hustle and bustle of your new role.

out of the corner of your eye, you caught a fleeting movement on the other side of the lot. you turned slightly to see jungkook, standing in the dimming light, lighting his own cigarette. the briefest of glances met your eyes before you quickly looked away, preferring the sanctuary of silence over the potential for awkward conversation. the distance between you was too great for meaningful exchange, and you were content to let the moment pass in unspoken acknowledgment.

you focused on your car, stepping forward to retrieve some files you had left on the seat. the familiar motion of opening the door and reaching inside provided a momentary distraction from the day's earlier events. with a sigh of relief, you closed the door, cigarette still perched between your lips. as you straightened, you looked up to see an unfamiliar man standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.

the man’s presence was jarring, his smirk exuding an air of menace. his eyes lingered on the sleek lines of your car with an almost predatory curiosity. “nice ride,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with a threatening undertone. “mind if i take it for a spin?”

you didn’t react immediately, maintaining a calm exterior as your eyes scanned his demeanor. his hand shifted to lift the side of his jacket, revealing a gun holstered at his hip. the glint of metal caught the waning light, a stark reminder of the danger he posed.

with a deliberate motion, you extinguished your cigarette, dropping it to the pavement and crushing it underfoot. the decision to act swiftly and decisively was driven by instinct and training. you pivoted toward the man, your movements fluid and practiced, and closed the distance between you. before he could react fully, you grabbed him by the collar and swung him against the side of your car. the impact was jarring, and he grunted in surprise as you pressed him firmly against the vehicle. your hands were steady as you reached for your cuffs, securing them around his wrists with a practiced efficiency.

as you tightened the cuffs, you leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear. “i think i’m gonna take you for a spin first,” you whispered, your voice carrying a cold, authoritative edge. his initial shock turned into a flurry of thrashing and resistance, but your grip remained firm. you guided him with practiced control, maneuvering him through the parking lot toward the station. the scuffle drew the attention of a few passersby, but you paid them little mind, your focus solely on your captive and the path ahead.

throughout the entire ordeal, you felt jungkook’s eyes on you, a piercing gaze that never wavered. even as you moved with the man in tow, you could sense his silent observation, the intensity of his scrutiny adding an additional layer of pressure. his presence was like a constant shadow, a reminder of the complex dynamics at play within this new world you had entered.

you maneuvered the man roughly into one of the holding cells, the metal door slamming shut with a resonant clang. the cell’s interior was stark, illuminated by the harsh, flickering light of a single bulb. the man’s protests filled the space, his shouts echoing off the concrete walls as he struggled against the cuffs. his anger and frustration were palpable, but you remained unmoved, your expression cool and detached as you observed him from outside the cell.

just then, the chief of the station strode into the area, his presence commanding immediate attention. his eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him, and he paused, clearly surprised by the commotion. “what’s going on here?” he demanded, his voice carrying an authoritative edge.

you took a steadying breath, maintaining your composure as you explained the situation. “this man attempted to steal my car. he displayed a firearm, so i subdued him and brought him in.” you handed over the wrapped gun, its weight feeling significant in your hands. the tissue was slightly damp from handling, but you had wrapped it with care to avoid any fingerprints.

the chief’s eyebrows shot up in shock as he unwrapped the gun, his anger visibly rising. he turned to face the man, his voice now tinged with a harsh edge. “you’re in for a treat. you’ve got some nerve pulling this shit,” the chief’s gaze then shifted back to you, his expression softening into an approving smile. “i’ve got to hand it to you. it’s your first day, and you’ve already brought in a real asshole. not a bad start.”

a moment later, jungkook appeared, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure as he entered the room. his eyes flickered toward you briefly, registering your presence before he moved past. his gaze was focused and impassive, and his silence spoke volumes about his reserved nature.

you couldn’t resist the urge to address him, a trace of sarcasm slipping into your voice as you said, “thanks for the hand. so much for a dedicated officer.” jungkook paused for a split second, his head turning slightly to acknowledge your comment. his expression remained stoic, but his response was measured and direct. “looked like you had it under control,” he said simply before continuing on his way.

the brief exchange left a lingering tension in the air. you couldn’t deny the sting of his dismissive tone, but you also recognized the unspoken acknowledgment of your capability. it was a subtle reminder that while his focus was unwavering and his dedication to his work was undeniable, his interactions were often laced with a cool, distant demeanor.

the bar was dimly lit, with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses providing a comforting backdrop to the evening. the warm amber glow from the hanging lights cast a soft sheen over the polished wooden bar and the array of bottles that lined the shelves. you found a quiet corner, where the atmosphere felt more intimate, allowing you to unwind from the day's events.

hoseok was already there, sitting at the bar with a relaxed demeanor that contrasted sharply with the tension of the office. as you slid into the seat next to him, he greeted you with a warm smile and a nod. his presence seemed to exude a sense of calm, a welcome reprieve from the rigid formality of the police station.

he gestured to the bartender, who promptly set a cold beer before you. the chilled glass felt good in your hand, and you took a long sip, savoring the cool, crisp flavor. hoseok leaned back, his posture casual yet attentive as he regarded you with a look of genuine interest.

“so,” he began, his voice smooth and easygoing, “congratulations on your first day. not many rookies can say they’ve brought someone in so quickly. that’s impressive.”

you nodded, appreciative of his acknowledgment. “thanks, hoseok. it was a rough start, but it feels good to have made a difference.” he took a sip from his own glass, the beer foaming slightly as he did. “you handled it well,” he continued. “but there are a few people you should keep an eye on. jungkook might be dedicated, but he’s also known for pushing boundaries to get results. and then there’s the hierarchy in the department—some are more concerned with climbing the ranks than with actual justice.”

you listened carefully, absorbing his advice. the insights he shared painted a clearer picture of the dynamics at play within the precinct. “i appreciate the heads-up,” you said. “it’s good to know who i might need to watch out for.”

his expression softened as he looked at you, his gaze reassuring. “just remember to stay true to yourself. the job can be tough, but it’s important to keep your integrity intact. you’ve got the right spirit, and that’s what counts.” you took another sip of your beer, letting the conversation drift into the background as you allowed yourself a moment to relax. the atmosphere of the bar, combined with hoseok’s easy presence, created a sense of respite that you hadn’t realized you needed so badly.

as the evening wore on, the conversation flowed naturally. hoseok spoke of his experiences, sharing anecdotes that brought a smile to your face. his storytelling was engaging, his voice rich with warmth and humor. there was an ease to his presence that made you feel at ease, a soothing balm for the frayed nerves of your first day.

when the time came to leave, he offered to walk you home. you accepted his offer with a grateful nod, appreciating the gesture. the night air was cool and crisp as you stepped outside, and the city’s lights cast a soft glow on the streets. hoseok’s company made the walk pleasant, his presence a comforting contrast to the challenges you had faced earlier.

as you made your way through the quiet streets, the conversation between you continued in a relaxed manner. his insights into the precinct and his easy demeanor made the walk enjoyable, a soothing end to a long day. the distance to your home felt shorter with his company, and you found yourself feeling more at ease with each step.

when you finally reached your front door, hoseok gave you a friendly smile. “well, this is where i leave you,” he said. “rest up. tomorrow’s another day, and i’m sure you’ll handle it just as well.” you thanked him sincerely, appreciating the support and camaraderie he had shown. as you watched him walk away, you felt a renewed sense of confidence. the night had provided a welcome break, and his presence had been a reminder that even in the most demanding of jobs, there were people who understood and offered genuine support.

the next morning, the precinct was a whirlwind of activity. papers were shuffled with frantic energy, phones rang incessantly, and officers moved briskly from one task to another. you found yourself buried under a mountain of paperwork, the endless stream of files and reports stacking up around you. your desk was a battleground of yellowed manila folders and scattered notes, each one demanding your attention.

just as you were deeply engrossed in sorting through a particularly complex file, the office door swung open. the chief entered, flanked by jungkook, whose presence immediately commanded attention. the room fell silent as the chief’s authoritative voice cut through the hum of activity. “everyone, give me your attention,” he announced.

you looked up, your gaze shifting to the chief and jungkook as they made their way toward your desk. the chief’s expression was serious, a hint of urgency in his eyes. he gestured for you and jungkook to follow him, and you both rose from your seats, curiosity piqued. the chief led you to his office, the atmosphere charged with a palpable sense of anticipation. once inside, he motioned for you and jungkook to take a seat across from his desk. he settled into his chair, his demeanor reflecting the gravity of the matter at hand.

as he opened a file, the chief began, “we’ve got a major case on our hands. this involves an underground mafia organization that’s been wreaking havoc across the city. their activities include drug trafficking, illegal gambling, and a number of violent crimes. we’ve managed to gather some intel, but we’re still missing key pieces.”

the chief’s words painted a grim picture of the criminal underworld, his tone laced with both frustration and determination. he detailed the mafia’s operations, their influence on various sectors, and their notorious ability to evade capture. the room was thick with tension as he laid out the scope of the problem.

“there’s a lot at stake here,” he continued, “and i need the best team on this. that’s why i’m assigning you both to this case. you’ll be working together to infiltrate the organization.”

jungkook’s expression shifted to one of discontent. he scoffed, his tone dripping with skepticism. “you want me to work on a cold case with a rookie?” the challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and the air grew taut with his disdain. you met his gaze head-on, refusing to be intimidated. “the case just might freeze if you’re the one on it,” you retorted sharply, your voice steady despite the tension.

jungkook’s eyes narrowed, ready to launch a rebuttal, but the chief intervened. “that’s enough,” he said firmly. “jungkook’s experience combined with your determination makes for a strong team. i’m confident that you both can handle this.”

turning his attention to you, the chief continued, “here’s what i have in mind: you two will go undercover as a couple. it’s a risky move, but it’s the best way to gain their trust and get the intel we need.”

the suggestion hit you like a cold wave. the thought of pretending to be involved in a relationship, with all the implications it carried, brought a flash of painful memories. you saw the ghostly image of your parents—their criminal entanglements, the secrets they harbored, and the tragic end that had defined your life. the prospect of immersing yourself in a false identity stirred up feelings of unease and internal conflict.

jungkook seemed to sense your hesitation but maintained his professional demeanor. he simply nodded in reluctant agreement, his eyes briefly meeting yours. “fine,” he said, “but let’s make this clear—don’t fuck it up.”

the chief, satisfied with your acceptance, stood and dismissed you. “get prepared,” he said, “we’ll need to move quickly. i expect updates as soon as you have them.” as he left the office, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. the task ahead was daunting, the stakes high, and the personal cost considerable. jungkook’s parting words echoed in your mind as he walked away, leaving you with a renewed sense of purpose mixed with a lingering apprehension.

the sun had begun to dip below the horizon when you and jungkook convened in the small, windowless meeting room of the precinct. the walls were lined with whiteboards scrawled with notes and diagrams, evidence of the case you were about to dive into. the room was bathed in the cold glow of fluorescent lights, casting a sterile, almost clinical ambiance that seemed to fit the seriousness of the task ahead.

he had already spread out a series of case files and photographs on the long conference table. you approached, pulling out the chair opposite him and taking a seat. as you glanced over the materials, the weight of the operation settled in. the mafia’s structure, their operations, key players—every detail was crucial.

“alright, let’s start with the basics,” you said, flipping open a file. “we need to understand their hierarchy and get close enough to gather intel.” jungkook nodded, but his eyes betrayed a hint of impatience. “we know that already. the real question is how we’re going to get in. we need to build trust, but we have to be careful not to blow our cover.”

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “we’ve gone over this. we need to present ourselves as a couple who’s looking to get involved in their operations. it’s a risky move, but it’s our best shot.” jungkook leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the papers. “so, we’re just supposed to show up, act like we’re madly in love, and hope they let us in? it’s not that simple.”

the frustration in his voice was evident, and you couldn’t help but snap back. “well, if you have a better plan, i’m all ears. otherwise, we’re going with this.” his face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he responded sharply, “this isn’t gonna work if we can’t even pretend to like each other. you need to hate me a little less, or this whole thing is a waste of time.”

you raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his candor. “what do you mean, ‘hate you’? i don’t hate you.” his expression was a mix of surprise and annoyance. “everyone here either hates me or fears me. i’ve never met anyone who didn’t feel one of those things.”

you met his gaze firmly, your voice steady. “i have nothing to hate or be afraid of. i’m here to do a job, and that’s what matters.”

at your words, jungkook’s surprise shifted into something else—an unexpected, almost unsettling smile. it was brief but intense, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability beneath his hardened exterior. you felt a shiver run down your spine, unsure of how to respond to the change in his demeanor.

clearing your throat, you forced yourself to refocus on the case. “so, let’s get back to it. how do we manage to get into their inner circle without raising suspicions?”

jungkook straightened, his professional mask back in place. “we need to establish a story that’s believable. if we’re going in as a couple, we need to make it convincing. they’ll want to see that we’re genuinely interested in their operations, not just posing for the sake of an investigation.”

you nodded, absorbing his words. “right. we should start by researching the specific events they’re involved in. we need to find a way to approach them as potential investors or partners, something that makes us valuable to their operations.”

jungkook flipped through the files, pointing to a set of documents. “these are some of their recent deals and contacts. we can use this information to craft our backstory. maybe we should focus on a particular aspect of their business, like their money laundering operations. it’s a sensitive topic for them, and showing interest could get us closer.”

you leaned in, examining the documents he highlighted. “that makes sense. if we can convince them we’re serious about investing or collaborating, it might give us the leverage we need.” his gaze softened slightly, though his demeanor remained businesslike. “we should also work on our cover story—something that feels authentic. it has to be detailed enough to withstand scrutiny, but flexible enough to adapt as needed.”

as the conversation continued, the tension between you seemed to ebb and flow. the earlier friction had given way to a more collaborative atmosphere, though jungkook’s sharpness remained. the plan was forming, piece by piece, and despite the challenges, you felt a cautious optimism about the direction you were heading.

the room filled with the sound of shuffling papers and the occasional murmur of discussion as you both delved deeper into the case. it was clear that working together would be fraught with difficulties, but there was a shared sense of purpose driving you forward. as you finalized the details of your plan, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this partnership, however strained, would be pivotal to the success of the mission. with his experience and your determination, there was hope that you could navigate the treacherous waters of the criminal underworld and come out on the other side.

the two of you entered the chief’s office, the space exuding authority with its polished mahogany desk and high-backed leather chairs. the chief sat behind his desk, reviewing papers with a concentration that was almost palpable. his eyes flickered up as you and jungkook approached, and he gestured for you both to take a seat.

“so,” the chief began, his tone commanding, “what have you come up with?”

you cleared your throat, your nerves barely hidden behind a facade of calm professionalism. “we’ve reviewed the case files and cross-referenced them with known locations and events. it turns out some of the suspects frequently visit a particular club. our plan is to use that as our entry point. we’ll attend the club, make ourselves noticeable, and try to attract their attention.”

the chief raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise crossing his features. “you seem quite familiar with this kind of operation. is that experience talking?”

the question struck a chord deep within you. you stiffened, feeling a sudden weight on your chest. memories of your parents—of their life entangled in crime and the fatal consequences of their choices—flooded your mind. you clenched your fists in your lap, struggling to maintain your composure. the weight of their actions and their ultimate fate bore down on you, leaving you speechless.

jungkook, sensing the tension, cleared his throat and turned to the chief. “so, is the plan good to go?” the chief nodded, still looking slightly taken aback. “yes, it’s approved. make sure you follow through meticulously.”

as you and jungkook prepared to leave the office, he leaned closer, his voice low. “the chief has a point. you seem to know a lot about these operations. it’s almost as if you’ve had firsthand experience.” you stopped in your tracks, the words hitting you harder than you expected. your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt a deep, uncomfortable twist in your stomach. jungkook’s observation was unsettlingly accurate, and you knew it was time to confront the shadows of your past.

turning to face him, you took a steadying breath. “i do have experience. my parents were involved in the underworld—running illegal operations, managing deals. they were deeply entrenched in the criminal world.”

jungkook’s eyes widened, a mixture of shock and disbelief crossing his face. you continued, your voice steady but tinged with an emotional edge, “they were consumed by their greed, and it ultimately led to their deaths. i wanted to distance myself from their life and prove that i could be more than just their legacy. that’s why i became a police officer—to fight against the kind of world they lived in.” he remained silent, his expression a complex blend of empathy and confusion. his eyes met yours, but he didn’t speak, as if searching for the right words or grappling with his own thoughts.

you felt the weight of his gaze and the burden of your past crashing down on you. with a final, lingering look, you turned and walked out of the chief’s office. each step you took echoed with the heaviness of your confession and the turmoil of your memories. you left jungkook behind, the silence between you now filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

that night, you prepared for the assignment with an unease that settled deep in your bones. the weight of your decision pressed heavily on your shoulders as you stared at yourself in the mirror. the apartment was filled with the cloying scent of perfume and the electric hum of makeup lights, casting a harsh glow that accentuated your tense expression.

you began the transformation, each movement deliberate and filled with a mix of apprehension and resolve. you started with your makeup, applying heavier layers than usual. the foundation was thick and flawless, masking the fatigue in your skin. you carefully blended eyeshadow into dark, sultry hues, drawing attention to your eyes with dramatic eyeliner. the lipstick you chose was a deep, daring red—an assertive statement you were determined to make.

next came the dress—a silver sheath that clung to your figure, sparkling under the dim lights of your bathroom. it was revealing, designed to captivate and command attention. the fabric felt cool and alien against your skin, every movement making the dress shimmer with a deceptive allure. you slipped on the matching high heels, their sharp, stiletto heels adding an extra edge to your demeanor.

as you looked at your reflection, you felt a pang of disconnection. the person staring back at you was a stranger, adorned in clothes that seemed to represent everything you weren’t—a stark contrast to your true self. the glamorous exterior was a necessary facade for the job, but it felt like a mask, concealing your true identity beneath layers of artifice. despite the discomfort, you steeled yourself. You had a mission to complete, and no amount of emotional turmoil would deter you.

the sound of a car horn honking outside shattered your thoughts, pulling you from your introspection. you took a deep breath and exited your apartment, the cold night air meeting you as you stepped out. there, beside his car, was jungkook.

when his eyes landed on you, they widened in shock, clearly taken aback by your transformation. his gaze swept over you with a mixture of surprise and admiration. you felt a blush of self-consciousness as you met his eyes, his reaction a silent commentary on how different you looked. despite the initial shock, there was a flicker of appreciation in his eyes—an acknowledgment of your effort.

you, too, were momentarily stunned by jungkook’s appearance. he stood beside his sleek car, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that accentuated his strong frame. his look was polished and sophisticated, contrasting sharply with your own provocative attire. the suit was a deep navy, with a crisp white shirt and a tie that added a touch of elegance to his ensemble. he looked every bit the part of a man who belonged in high society, and his presence was both reassuring and intimidating.

clearing your throat to mask your surprise, you asked, “are we good to go?” his expression softened slightly, and he nodded. “yes, we’re ready. let’s get going.”

he opened the car door for you with a chivalrous gesture, the smooth motion of the handle a stark contrast to the tension you felt. you slid into the car, the interior’s plush comfort a brief reprieve from the stress. jungkook closed the door behind you and took his place in the driver’s seat, the engine rumbling to life as he navigated the streets towards the club. as the car glided through the night, you could not shake the feeling of being on the edge of something profound. the club’s lights were already visible in the distance, casting a neon glow against the night sky. you glanced at jungkook, noting his focused expression and the way he gripped the steering wheel.

the car rolled to a smooth stop outside the club, and as the engine’s hum faded, the scene before you emerged from the darkness. the club was a sprawling edifice of neon lights and shadowy corners, its façade a patchwork of flickering signs and half-hidden windows. the sign above the entrance, flashing in an intermittent crimson glow, read “la lune” in bold, cursive script. the letters seemed to pulse with a rhythm that matched the bass-heavy thrum of music escaping from within.

jungkook glanced at you, his eyes betraying a hint of concern masked by his usual stoic demeanor. “are you ready?” you nodded, forcing a confident smile. “let’s do this.”

with that, you stepped out of the car and made your way to the entrance. jungkook gave you a curt nod before heading off to blend into the shadows, his own role in this operation beginning in earnest. the club’s bouncers gave you a cursory glance, their eyes barely flicking over you as they were more focused on the stream of patrons entering and exiting. you walked through the velvet-draped doorway and into the dimly lit interior, where the scent of smoke, alcohol, and perfume mingled in the air.

the club’s interior was a labyrinth of opulence and decadence. low, plush couches with black leather upholstery lined the walls, each surrounding low tables adorned with empty glasses and half-eaten plates of food. crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their multi-colored lights casting an otherworldly glow over the patrons. the dance floor was a pulsing sea of bodies, the crowd moving in a hypnotic rhythm to the pounding beat of the music that reverberated through the space. the walls were adorned with dark, abstract art that seemed to shift and swirl with the ever-changing lights.

you approached the bar, ordering a drink to help steady your nerves. the bartender, a burly man with a face that seemed permanently set in a scowl, slid a glass of something strong and smoky towards you. you took a deep sip, feeling the warmth spread through you as the liquor began to dull your apprehensions.

as you sipped your drink, you kept a watchful eye on the crowd. it wasn’t long before you noticed a group of men—shady and well-dressed—making their way to a semi-private area cordoned off by an almost transparent curtain. they moved with a sense of purpose, their body language exuding an air of authority and secrecy. Intrigued, you decided to follow.

the curtain parted slightly as you approached, and you slipped behind it, careful not to make any noise. you found yourself in a small, dimly lit room, sparsely furnished with a few plush chairs and a single pole set in the center. the men were gathered around, their conversation low but intense.

one of them, a man with slicked-back hair and an air of casual arrogance, noticed your presence. his gaze flicked over you with a mixture of surprise and interest. “if you’re as pretty as you seem, step out for us,” he said, his voice smooth but with a hint of condescension.

with a flick of your wrist, you let the curtain fall back and stepped into the room, the soft glow of the lights highlighting your silhouette. you walked confidently to the center of the room, where the men’s eyes were fixed on you. a smirk played on your lips as you adopted a flirtatious stance, feeling the weight of their gazes like a tangible pressure.

“good evening, gentlemen,” you purred, your voice dripping with charm as you approached them. you could feel the air shift as their attention intensified, their interest piqued by your boldness. one of the men, seated comfortably in a chair with an air of superiority, raised an eyebrow. “care to put on a show for us?” he asked, gesturing toward the pole.

you raised an eyebrow in response, a playful glint in your eye. “if that’s what you’d like,” you said, moving toward the pole with a graceful, deliberate sway.

you began to dance, your movements fluid and mesmerizing. you wrapped your body around the pole, performing with a practiced ease that drew appreciative murmurs from the men. the room was filled with the sound of your high heels clicking on the polished floor and the soft, rhythmic rustle of your dress. when you finished, you stepped away from the pole and approached the man who had made the initial request. you perched yourself on his lap, feeling his warm breath against your neck as you leaned in close. his hands instinctively went to your waist, and you let him savor the moment as he praised you with an approving nod.

“she’s a gem, isn’t she?” a voice said from behind you. both you and the man turned to see jungkook stepping out from the shadows, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips. the sudden appearance of him, dressed in a sharp suit, added an unexpected layer to the encounter. the man’s eyes narrowed with curiosity as he regarded him. “and who might you be?” he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

jungkook exhaled a plume of smoke and took a seat on an empty couch, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “min woobin,” he said, gesturing to you with a casual wave. “this is my girlfriend, lee rachel.”

you leaned closer to the man, your breath hot against his ear. “it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry. the man’s demeanor softened slightly, and he seemed genuinely intrigued. “so, what brings you both here?” he asked, his eyes flickering between you and jungkook.

jungkook took a slow drag from his cigarette before responding. “we’re here to do business. i’ve heard quite a bit about your operations, and we’re interested in learning more.” the man stiffened slightly at his words, his gaze shifting to you as you continued to maintain your intimate position on his lap. “you’d have to meet my boss,” he said, his voice low and guarded.

you trailed your fingers along his chest, your touch light and deliberate. “if he’s as handsome as you are,” you said with a flirtatious smile, “we just might be interested.” the man’s expression grew pleased, and he reached for your waist with a touch that bordered on possessive. you halted him with a click of your tongue, taking his hands and guiding them higher, just above your thighs.

“only if you let us meet him,” you said, your voice low and commanding. jungkook’s face betrayed a flicker of surprise as he watched the interaction unfold, but the man, undeterred, nodded in agreement. “alright,” he said, a hint of anticipation in his voice. “i’ll arrange for you to meet him.”

as you and jungkook followed the group of men away from the club, you could feel a subtle undercurrent of tension in the air, a quiet anticipation that prickled at your skin. the men led you through a maze of streets, their steps confident and purposeful. the cityscape blurred into a dark tapestry of neon lights and shadowy alleyways as you climbed into the back of a sleek black car, its windows tinted to an opaque darkness.

jungkook settled beside you, the soft hum of the engine providing a low, rhythmic backdrop to the night’s proceedings. he glanced at you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “you’re playing your role well,” he said, his voice low and tinged with an undertone that you couldn’t quite place. the subtle shift in his tone left you with a sense of unease, but you smiled back at him, determined to stay in character.

“thanks, woobin,” you replied, your voice smooth and confident. the car glided through the city streets, weaving through traffic with practiced ease. the journey seemed to stretch on endlessly, the city lights outside shifting from bright and vibrant to dim and foreboding. as the vehicle took a final turn into a narrow, secluded road, the surroundings became increasingly desolate. the buildings were older, their facades grimy and weathered, creating a stark contrast to the more polished areas you had passed through.

the car stopped in front of an unassuming warehouse, its exterior nondescript except for a small, barely visible sign that read “apex distribution.” the men exited the vehicle first, holding the door open for you and jungkook as you followed them inside. the interior was dimly lit, the overhead lights flickering intermittently. the space was vast and industrial, filled with crates and metal shelving units that cast long, ominous shadows across the concrete floor. the air was heavy with the scent of dampness and rust.

you and jungkook were guided through a series of hallways and staircases, each step echoing in the quiet, oppressive atmosphere. the corridors seemed to go on forever, their walls adorned with faded, peeling posters and graffiti that hinted at the warehouse’s grimy history. finally, the group reached a large, reinforced door. one of the men knocked in a specific pattern, and the door creaked open, revealing a room that contrasted sharply with the warehouse’s exterior.

the room was lit by dim, yellowing lights, casting a harsh, almost sickly glow over its contents. the space was a makeshift arena, its center dominated by a large, circular platform surrounded by a motley assortment of chairs and benches. the walls were lined with various weapons and tools, their purposes unclear but intimidating. a large, imposing man sat at the center of it all, his presence exuding an air of authority and menace.

the men bowed as they approached, their voices low as they informed the boss of the potential recruits. the boss, a man with a heavyset build and a face marked by years of hard living, regarded you and jungkook with a steely gaze. his eyes, cold and calculating, seemed to pierce through you as he assessed the situation.

“you must be lee rachel and min woobin,” he said, his voice gravelly and commanding. you nodded, keeping your composure. “that’s right.”

the boss raised an eyebrow. “are you two dating?” you exchanged a brief glance before affirming, “yes.”

“are you serious about joining?” he asked, his tone firm and scrutinizing. jungkook responded with a decisive nod. “yes.”

the boss leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving you. “prove it.”

the simple command caused a ripple of unease between you and jungkook. the atmosphere shifted, the tension palpable as you tried to gauge the meaning behind his words. the boss’s expression remained unreadable, his gaze steady and unwavering. you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “how?”

the boss shrugged nonchalantly, a twisted smile playing on his lips. “you seem like a happy couple. let’s see if joining means more to you than your relationship.”

the words hung in the air, their implications sending a shiver down your spine. the men surrounding you and jungkook began to clear a path, dragging you both towards the center of the room. your heart raced as you looked around, trying to make sense of the unfolding situation. the boss’s men moved with purpose, setting up an impromptu arena. you and jungkook were directed to opposite sides, and gloves were handed to both of you—heavy, black leather that felt oddly cold against your skin. the sense of dread grew as the realization of what was about to unfold hit you.

“what do you want?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to stay calm. the boss’s eyes glinted with a cold, calculating light. he took a slow drag from his cigar before exhaling a plume of smoke. “make each other bleed.”

the command was delivered with an unsettling calmness that only added to the intensity of the moment. the men around you watched with a mix of anticipation and approval, their eyes following every movement with rapt attention. jungkook’s face betrayed a flicker of shock, but he quickly masked it with a steely resolve. he glanced at you, his gaze intense and unreadable. the weight of the boss’s challenge settled heavily on both of you, the tension in the room thickening as the reality of the situation sank in.

“prove it,” the boss repeated, his voice echoing in the oppressive silence that followed his declaration.

you and jungkook stood in the center of the arena, the gloves tight on your hands. the noise of the crowd faded into the background as you focused on each other, the enormity of the situation pressing in on you. this was not just a test of physical endurance but a trial of your commitment to the cause and to each other.

you met jungkook’s eyes across the makeshift arena, the intensity of the moment reflected in his gaze. there was a hesitation there, a flicker of reluctance that spoke volumes. his eyes, usually so firm and resolute, now held an apologetic edge that made your heart ache. the silent communication between you was almost palpable, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with concern. you nodded, the decision burning through you despite the pain it was causing. “i’m sure.”

the look of regret in his eyes was almost too much to bear. but there was no turning back now. the boss’s eyes glinted with cold satisfaction as he watched the exchange, his anticipation evident as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for the action to unfold.

the fight began with a sudden burst of energy, both of you moving with a blend of calculated aggression and reluctant restraint. jungkook’s punches were sharp and precise, his movements swift and fluid. you countered with equal intensity, each strike met with a determined resolve to prove your worth. the air was filled with the sharp, jarring sounds of flesh against flesh, each impact reverberating through the arena.

you could feel the sting of pain with every blow, the force of jungkook’s punches causing your muscles to ache and your breath to catch. blood began to mix with sweat, streaking down your face and staining your clothes. the once pristine floor was becoming a grim tableau of bruises and blood, each mark a testament to the ferocity of your struggle.

jungkook's face was a mask of concentration, his expression shifting between resolve and regret as he landed hit after hit. you retaliated with just as much fervor, your punches landing with a satisfying thud as you fought to maintain your ground. the fight was a brutal dance, each move a testament to your determination and unwillingness to back down. the battle continued, each strike leaving a trail of pain and fatigue. both of you were breathing heavily, your movements becoming more sluggish as the minutes wore on. blood mixed with sweat, soaking through your clothes and creating a slippery, crimson sheen on the arena floor. the grunts and gasps of exertion filled the space, punctuated by the occasional groan of pain.

eventually, the intensity of the fight began to take its toll. both of you were staggering, your energy waning as exhaustion set in. you stumbled, falling to the ground beside jungkook, your body aching with the cumulative effects of the fight. the floor was unforgiving, the cold concrete pressing against your bruised and battered skin. despite the pain, you forced yourself to stand, pushing through the fatigue that threatened to overwhelm you. jungkook was in a similar state, his face smeared with blood and sweat, his movements unsteady. you both faced each other, each breath labored and heavy, the fight leaving its mark on both of you.

as you struggled to regain your footing, the boss’s voice cut through the haze of pain and exhaustion. “i’ve seen enough.”

the words brought a moment of trepidation. you exchanged worried glances with jungkook, the uncertainty of the boss’s statement hanging in the air. the men around the arena shifted, their expressions unreadable as they awaited the boss’s final verdict. the boss’s gaze was fixed on you and jungkook, his expression inscrutable. he paused, letting the silence stretch, the tension palpable as you waited for his decision. finally, he broke the silence with a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

“welcome aboard,” he said, his voice carrying a cold finality.

relief washed over you, mingling with the pain and exhaustion that had become a part of you. you looked at jungkook, who was staring at you with a mix of disbelief and exhaustion. despite the bruises and blood, there was a flicker of something like relief in his eyes. the men around you began to move, their demeanor shifting from anticipation to approval. the boss’s words had sealed your place, and as the arena cleared, you and jungkook were left standing amid the aftermath of your brutal test. the fight had been a grueling ordeal, but it had served its purpose, proving your resolve and determination.

in the dimly lit room, you tended to your wounds with a focused, practiced precision. the light from the single lamp cast a soft glow, illuminating your silhouette as you worked. the air was thick with the mingled scents of blood, sweat, and antiseptic, creating a heavy atmosphere that mirrored the intensity of the fight you had just endured.

you stood in front of the mirror, your shirt discarded, leaving you in just a pair of underwear and a loose shirt. the room was small but functional, with a modest bed and a few scattered belongings that gave it a lived-in feel. as you methodically wrapped a bandage around your waist, you could feel jungkook’s gaze on you, his eyes tracking your every movement with a mixture of concern and something more.

he was leaning against the doorframe, his own wounds treated but still fresh. his eyes were drawn to you, and though he tried to avert his gaze, he couldn't help but take in the sight of you, so focused and composed despite the pain.

“i didn’t expect you to hit so hard,” he said, breaking the silence. there was a hint of admiration in his voice, though it was tinged with the discomfort of knowing just how hard you had fought. you chuckled softly, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “could say the same to you.”

the exchange was light, but the air was thick with an undercurrent of something unspoken. as you finished wrapping the bandage around your waist, you moved to tend to his injuries. he stood still, watching as you approached him, your movements fluid and deliberate. his gaze lingered on you, taking in the way you moved with a mix of tenderness and professionalism, your big shirt barely covering your figure.

you smiled at the intensity of his gaze, the way his eyes seemed to follow your every move. “don’t even dream about it,” you said, your tone teasing. he scoffed, but there was a softness in his eyes that belied his attempt to appear indifferent. “i don’t know what you mean.”

you leaned in close to him, your face mere inches from his, and his breath caught in his throat. the proximity was charged with a palpable tension, his body tensing as if bracing for something more. your breath mingled with his, the heat of the moment making your pulse quicken. but before he could react, you pulled away, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“your forehead’s bleeding,” you said, gently wiping away the blood with a piece of cloth. he looked at you with a mixture of surprise and sarcasm. “my savior,” he said, his tone dripping with mock reverence.

you continued to clean his wound, the act both intimate and professional. each touch was deliberate, your fingers brushing against his skin with a careful precision. the contrast between your soft, gentle care and the roughness of the fight was stark, creating a moment of connection amidst the chaos. as you finished, you met his gaze once more, the teasing smile lingering on your lips. the air between you was charged, the earlier tension now replaced with a different kind of intensity. jungkook’s eyes held a mixture of gratitude and something more, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that had formed between you during the fight.

the days and nights in the mafia compound blended together, each one a test of your will and resolve. every time you emerged from your shared room with jungkook, the world outside seemed a little darker, the people a little more dangerous. but something else changed too—something subtle, almost imperceptible, but undeniable. the more time you spent with him in this underworld, the closer you became.

at first, the closeness was purely practical. you needed to rely on each other to survive, to navigate the twisted labyrinth of the mafia’s inner workings. conversations began as cold, clipped exchanges of necessary information—strategies for gaining the trust of the men around you, plans for your next steps, analyzing every word and action of those who held power over you. but as the days passed, those exchanges grew warmer, more layered with unspoken understanding. the subtle nuances of your interactions began to shift. when you spoke to him, it wasn’t just about the mission anymore—it was about something deeper, something that neither of you could quite name.

one evening, you found yourselves sitting side by side on the small bed in your room, the low hum of the compound's activity filtering through the thin walls. jungkook was leaning against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if lost in thought. you were beside him, close enough to feel the warmth of his body, yet there was still a small distance between you—both physical and emotional. “the big deal with the weapons shipment’s soon,” you said, breaking the silence that had settled between you. “we need to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

jungkook nodded, his expression serious. “i know. but i’ve been thinking, if things go wrong, we need a backup plan.” you turned to him, studying his profile. the sharp lines of his face were softened by the dim light, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. “what are you suggesting?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“if it gets too dangerous, we pull out. no heroics,” he said, finally meeting your gaze. “i’m not risking your life for this.”

the sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and you felt a flicker of something warm in your chest—something that had been growing, slowly, over the weeks you had spent together. You weren’t sure what it was, but it made you want to trust him more than you ever had before.

“i’m not risking your life either,” you replied, your voice just as firm. “we’re in this together, aren’t we?”

he looked at you for a long moment, as if searching your eyes for something. Then, almost imperceptibly, he smiled—a small, soft curve of his lips that made your heart skip a beat. it was a rare sight, one that you had only seen a handful of times, and each time it felt like a gift. the silence between you grew comfortable, the tension that had always simmered beneath the surface beginning to ease. you could feel the shift in the air, the way your bodies seemed to naturally gravitate toward each other, closing the small distance that remained.

as the night wore on, you found yourselves talking more, the conversation flowing easier than it ever had before. it was still about the mission, but there were small moments of vulnerability woven into your words—tiny glimpses into the people you were behind the facades you wore for the mafia. “you know,” he said after a while, his voice softer now, “when we first started this, i didn’t think we’d make it this far. i thought Ii’d end up getting us both killed.”

“you’re not giving yourself enough credit,” you replied, your tone equally gentle. “you’ve kept us alive, and more than that—you’ve kept us sane.” he chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “you’ve been keeping me sane too, you know.” the admission hung in the air between you, and for a moment, neither of you knew what to say. you simply sat there, side by side, in a quiet understanding that was more powerful than any words you could have spoken.

as the days continued, those moments of quiet closeness became more frequent. you found yourself seeking out his presence whenever you could, whether it was during a tense meeting with the mafia bosses or a rare moment of downtime in your room. and he did the same—he gravitated toward you, his presence a constant, reassuring anchor in the chaos of your surroundings. there were nights when you would find yourselves sitting on the floor of your room, sharing a bottle of whiskey you had stolen from the compound’s stash. the alcohol would loosen your tongues, and the conversations would drift from the mission to more personal topics—your pasts, your fears, your dreams for a life beyond the mafia.

one such night, jungkook leaned back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him as he stared at the ceiling. “you ever think about what you’ll do when this is all over?” he asked, his voice tinged with a wistful longing. you took a sip of whiskey, savoring the burn as it slid down your throat. “sometimes,” you admitted. “but it’s hard to picture a life outside of this. i’ve been doing this for so long, i don’t even know what normal is anymore.”

he nodded, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “yeah, i get that. but, i don’t know, i like to think there’s something better waiting for us. aomething peaceful.” you turned your head to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. “you really think we’ll find peace?”

he met your gaze, his eyes dark and intense. “if we make it out of this alive, i’ll do everything i can to find it. for both of us.” his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promise. you felt a surge of emotion that you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in a long time—hope. it was fragile and fleeting, but it was there, flickering in your chest like a tiny flame.

the nights grew colder as the days passed, and you found yourselves huddling closer together for warmth. it was an unspoken agreement—neither of you acknowledged it, but neither of you pulled away. when the silence between you stretched on, it was no longer uncomfortable, but rather a shared understanding that words weren’t necessary. there were moments when you caught yourself watching him, studying the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he plotted your next move, or the way his jaw clenched when he was frustrated. and sometimes, you would catch him watching you too, his gaze soft and unreadable, as if he was trying to decipher the puzzle that was you.

one evening, after a particularly grueling day, you found yourselves in the small, makeshift kitchen of the compound, the room dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. you were both exhausted, your bodies aching from the physical and emotional toll of the day. jungkook was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you rummage through the sparse supplies. “we’ve got nothing but instant ramen,” you said, holding up a pack with a grimace. “again.”

he smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement despite the fatigue etched into his features. “better than nothing, i guess.” you sighed, tearing open the pack and setting a pot of water to boil. as you waited, the silence between you grew, but it was no longer the heavy, tension-filled quiet of before. it was the kind of silence that felt comfortable, like an old friend. when the ramen was finally ready, you split it between two bowls and handed one to jungkook. he took it with a nod of thanks, and the two of you sat down at the small table, eating in companionable silence.

after a while, he set down his bowl, his expression contemplative. “you know,” he began, his voice low, “i never thought i’d say this, but i don’t mind this. being here, with you.” you looked up at him, surprised by his admission. “really?”

he nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. “yeah. i mean, it’s not ideal, obviously. but, i’ve been through worse, and i’ve never had someone to go through it with before. it makes a difference.” his words struck a chord deep within you, stirring emotions that you had long buried. “i feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i never thought i’d trust someone like this again. but with you, it’s different.” his gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought he might reach out, bridge the small gap between you. but instead, he simply nodded, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

the days passed, each one bringing you closer together in ways you hadn’t anticipated. the connection between you grew, deepened, becoming something more than just the partnership you had started with. it was subtle, unspoken, but it was there—an undercurrent of understanding and shared experience that bound you together in ways you couldn’t explain.

the night had settled in, wrapping the compound in a blanket of darkness and silence. you were in your shared room with jungkook, the dim light from a small lamp casting soft shadows on the walls. the two of you were sitting at the small table in the corner, finishing up the remnants of a late-night meal, the conversation quiet but comfortable. as you were about to clear the dishes, your phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with an incoming call. you glanced at the name flashing on the screen—hoseok.

you hesitated for a moment, then picked up the phone, bringing it to your ear. “hey,” you greeted, your voice soft. “hey,” hoseok’s familiar voice came through, warm and slightly concerned. “are you okay? i haven’t heard from you in a while.”

you smiled, the sound of his voice bringing a sense of comfort that you hadn’t realized you were missing. “i’m okay. things have been intense, but i’m managing.”

“is he being nice?” hoseok asked, his tone light but with a hint of protectiveness that made you smile. you glanced over at jungkook, who was watching you with a curious expression. “yeah, he’s being nice,” you assured, your tone teasing. “no need to worry.”

jungkook’s eyebrows raised slightly at that, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on you as he continued to eat. hoseok chuckled on the other end of the line. “good. i’d hate to have to come over there and straighten him out.” you laughed softly, shaking your head. “i appreciate the concern, but I think i’ve got it under control.”

there was a brief pause on the other end before hoseok spoke again, his tone more casual. “when you’re back, how about we grab a drink? just to catch up.” you felt a warm, comforting feeling spread through you at the thought. “i’d like that,” you replied, your voice soft.

“great,” he said, the smile evident in his voice. “take care of yourself, alright? i’ll see you when you’re back.” you replied softly, “you too, okay? see you soon.”

you ended the call, setting the phone down on the table. when you looked up, you saw jungkook’s gaze still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. “who was that?” he asked, his voice even but with an edge of something you couldn’t quite place. “hoseok,” you answered casually, not thinking much of it.

jungkook scoffed, a short, disbelieving sound that made you pause. you turned to look at him more closely, frowning slightly. “what’s your problem?” you asked, your tone more curious than accusatory. “nothing,” he replied quickly, too quickly, his eyes darting away from yours.

you tilted your head, studying him. “sure doesn’t seem like nothing.” he didn’t respond, just continued eating, though his movements were more tense, less relaxed than they had been before the call. you decided to brush it off, not wanting to push him on it. “alright, whatever you say,” you muttered, turning your attention back to the dishes. but as you moved around the small room, you could feel his eyes on you, a silent tension hanging in the air between you. it was unlike him to be so off, and it left you feeling uneasy, unsure of what was really going on in his head.

for jungkook, however, the moment you mentioned hoseok’s name, something had shifted inside him. it wasn’t jealousy—at least, that’s what he told himself—but rather an uncomfortable tightness in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. he didn’t like the idea of you with someone else, especially not someone like hoseok, who was always so damn cheerful and easy to get along with. it bugged him more than it should have, the way you smiled while talking to him, the way your voice softened just a little when you mentioned grabbing a drink with him. he tried to shake it off, telling himself it didn’t matter, that it was none of his business who you spent your time with. but the truth was, it did matter. it mattered more than he was willing to admit, even to himself.

as he sat there, pretending to focus on his meal, his mind kept drifting back to the way you had laughed with hoseok, the way your eyes had lit up at the prospect of seeing him again. it gnawed at him, the thought of you with someone else, and he couldn’t understand why. you were just his partner in this twisted game, nothing more. you had each other’s backs, sure, but that was out of necessity, not anything deeper. at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

the heavy thud of your fists against the boxing bag echoed through the training room, the sound rhythmic and intense, almost drowning out the rest of the world. your body moved with precision and power, every punch and jab a release of pent-up frustration. sweat poured down your face, your muscles burned, but you pushed on, driven by something deep inside that wouldn’t let you stop.

your breath came in short, sharp bursts, your knuckles aching as they connected with the leather of the bag. you had been at it for what felt like hours, lost in the rhythm, in the need to keep moving, to keep fighting. it was your way of coping, of trying to find some semblance of control in a world that often felt like it was spinning out of your grasp.

the room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the overhead bulbs that cast a faint glow over the equipment. the air was thick with the smell of sweat and the sound of your fists striking the bag, your grunts of effort the only noise breaking the silence. when you finally stopped, your chest heaving with exertion, you stepped back and wiped the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. your body ached, but it was a good kind of pain, the kind that made you feel alive, grounded.

you glanced around the empty training room, taking a moment to catch your breath before deciding it was time to call it a night. you made your way to the changing rooms, your footsteps echoing in the quiet space. the changing room was deserted, as you expected at this hour. you peeled off your sweat-soaked clothes, your muscles protesting with every movement, and stepped into the shower. the hot water cascaded over your sore body, washing away the sweat and tension, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to let the steam envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.

but as you stepped out of the shower, the warm water still clinging to your skin, you froze. standing in the doorway of the changing room was a young man, someone you recognized from the boss’s inner circle. his eyes raked over you with a smirk that made your stomach churn with dread. “what the hell are you doing in here?” you demanded, clutching your towel tightly around your body, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear that gripped you.

he didn’t respond immediately, just took a step closer, his smirk widening. “i know where i am,” he said casually, his voice dripping with arrogance. you felt a surge of panic, your heart pounding in your chest as he continued to approach you. your feet seemed glued to the spot, your body frozen with fear as he reached out and trailed a finger down your neck, sending a shiver of revulsion through you.

“don’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

his hand moved to the hem of your towel, tugging at it with a cruel smile. “if you’re as smart as you seem,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, “you’ll stay quiet. it’ll hurt a lot less.” tears welled up in your eyes as you clutched the towel desperately, every fiber of your being screaming at you to move, to fight back, but your body refused to obey. you squeezed your eyes shut, praying for the strength to break free, to do anything to get away from him.

but before you could react, the pressure of his hand on your towel was gone, and there was a sudden, violent crash. you opened your eyes to see jungkook, his face twisted in a rage you had never seen before, slamming the man against the lockers. the sound of metal denting under the force echoed through the room as he delivered punch after punch, each one filled with a fury that left you paralyzed. the man crumpled to the floor, blood trickling from his nose, his smirk long gone, replaced by a look of terror. jungkook didn’t stop until the man was barely conscious, his body limp and defenseless.

when it was over, jungkook turned to you, his chest heaving, his hands still clenched into fists. the anger in his eyes softened as he saw you standing there, trembling and tearful, and he crossed the distance between you in an instant. he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you finally broke down, sobbing against his chest. his hand stroked your wet hair gently, his voice soothing as he whispered, “it’s okay. you’re safe. i’ve got you.” he adjusted your towel, making sure it was securely wrapped around you, before pulling you even closer, his grip on you protective, as if he could shield you from everything in the world that could hurt you.

it took several minutes before your sobs quieted, your breath coming in shaky gasps. when you finally pulled back, jungkook’s eyes were filled with concern, his hands still resting gently on your shoulders. you nodded, still trembling, as you moved to get dressed. your hands were shaky, fumbling with your clothes as you tried to regain some semblance of control. the fear lingered, a cold, unshakable presence that had settled deep in your chest.

he watched you, his gaze never leaving you as you struggled to pull on your clothes. once you were dressed, he grabbed a towel and began drying your hair, his touch gentle, almost tender. the silence between you was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. if anything, it was filled with an unspoken understanding, a connection that had been forged in the heat of the moment.

as he dried your hair, you couldn’t help but feel comforted by his touch, by the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed without you having to say a word. when he was finished, you turned to him, offering him a small, grateful smile. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice still trembling slightly.

he frowned, his jaw tightening. “i should’ve killed him on the spot,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. you shook your head quickly, your hand reaching out to touch his arm. “no, you would’ve lost your job,” you said softly, pausing before adding with a weak attempt at a smile, “you wouldn’t get to be my fake boyfriend anymore.” the tension in the room thickened, the words hanging in the air between you. his eyes darkened, his expression serious as he studied your face.

“i don’t think i wanna be your fake boyfriend anymore,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

fear gripped you again, but this time it wasn’t the fear of the man who had just threatened you. it was the fear of losing jungkook, of him being disgusted by what had just happened, or maybe disappointed in you for not fighting back harder. your mind raced, jumping to the worst conclusions. “why?” you asked, your voice barely audible, dreading the answer.

he didn’t respond immediately. instead, he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek gently. his touch was warm, comforting, and before you could process what was happening, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was soft, tentative at first, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away. but when you didn’t, when you found yourself leaning into him instead, he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. every lingering fear, every doubt, seemed to melt away in that moment, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of being held by someone who truly cared.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “i don’t wanna pretend anymore,” he whispered, his voice filled with a raw honesty that made your heart ache. you looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was the same vulnerability you felt, the same desire to be something more than just partners in this dangerous game.

you nodded slowly, a small, genuine smile breaking through the fear that had gripped you for so long. “neither do i,” you whispered back. you stood there, your heart still racing from the intensity of what had just happened, but now it was for a different reason. jungkook’s words hung in the air between you, and the warmth of his breath still lingered on your lips, a gentle reminder of the kiss you had just shared. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, you knew there was no going back.

without a word, you leaned in, closing the distance between you once more. this time, when your lips met his, there was no hesitation. the kiss was deeper, more urgent, a reflection of all the emotions that had been building up inside you for so long. you felt his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, his body pressed against yours in a way that made you feel both grounded and weightless all at once.

as the kiss deepened, a sense of dread that had been gnawing at you all night began to dissipate, replaced by a warmth that spread through your entire being. it was as if every bad thing, every fear, every moment of uncertainty that had plagued you was being washed away in the heat of his embrace. with him, you felt safe, protected, as though nothing else in the world mattered. the training room, the locker room, the man who had just tried to violate you—everything faded into the background until all that was left was jungkook and the way he made you feel.

you lost yourself in the kiss, in the way his lips moved against yours, in the way his hands slid up your back, holding you like you were something precious, something he was afraid to lose. it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a lifeline, something to hold onto in the darkness that surrounded your lives.

but then, he pulled back just slightly, enough to look into your eyes, his breath ragged as he searched your face for any sign of doubt. “are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. “i don’t want to push you, if it’s too soon.”

you shook your head, cutting him off before he could finish. “it’s not,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the intensity of your feelings. “it’s not too soon, jungkook. i don’t know if we’ll even be alive tomorrow, and i don’t wanna waste another second.”

his eyes darkened with something you couldn’t quite place—desire, fear, something more—but he didn’t hesitate. he closed the distance between you again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was even hotter, even more consuming than the last. there was a desperation in the way you both kissed, as if you were trying to pour everything you felt into this one moment, as if the world might end at any second and all that would be left was this—this connection, this fire that burned between you.

his hands roamed your body, caressing your back, your sides, his touch sending shivers down your spine. every brush of his fingers, every press of his lips, made you feel more alive than you had in a long time. it was as if all the fear, all the darkness that had been clouding your mind was being driven out by the sheer intensity of what you were sharing with him. you could feel his heart beating against your chest, his breath warm against your skin as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that made you gasp, your hands gripping his shirt, pulling him even closer. the world around you ceased to exist; there was only him and the way he made you feel like you could survive anything as long as he was by your side.

he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he held you close. “i’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “not as long as i’m alive.” you smiled softly, your hands trembling slightly as they caressed his face, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “i believe you,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible, but he heard you. you could see the way his eyes softened, the way his grip on you tightened just a fraction more, as if he was afraid to let go.

his hands began to explore again, sliding down to your waist, then up to your chest. he cupped one of your tits gently, his thumb brushing over the peak of your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. you gasped into his mouth, arching into his touch. the heat between you was palpable, a living, breathing entity that demanded more. he broke the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he lowered his head to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing until you were moaning softly. the sensation was too much, a beautiful contrast to the harsh reality that had been your world for so long.

his hand slid down, toying with the string of your sweatpants. you stepped back slightly, allowing him to pull them down, along with your panties, until you were standing before him in nothing but your shirt. he took a moment to look at you, his eyes traveling over your body with a hunger that made you feel exposed and desired all at once. you could feel yourself practically dripping at the sight of him, the anticipation of what was to come making it difficult to stand still. but you could't hold back, not with the foreign, hungry look in his eyes.

your hand trembled as it dropped down to his pants. you could see how hard he was through the soft, grey fabric, but seeing it wasn't enough. you wanted to taste him, to feel him inside you, to make him feel as good as he made you feel. his fingers rubbed at your clit almost too gently, dipping into the sweet wetness as you fumbled with his boxers.

finally, you managed to free his cock, and you couldn't help but stare at it. it was beautiful, thick and veiny, standing proud and ready. jungkook groaned as you wrapped your hand around it, your grip firm but tentative. he leaned back into the chair, eyes closed, as you began to stroke him, your movements growing more confident with each stroke. you wanted to remember every inch of him, every detail, so you could replay it in your mind when you were apart.

his eyes snapped open, locking onto yours again. “ are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and rough with desire. you didn't answer with words. instead, you dropped to your knees and took him into your mouth, your eyes never leaving his. you heard him suck in a sharp breath as you began to suck, taking him deep and swirling your tongue around the tip. you felt empowered, in control, as he squirmed in the chair. your hands cupped his balls, rolling them gently as you took more of him in, your cheeks hollowing with each bob of your head.

his grip tightened in your hair as he began to thrust, fucking your mouth with a gentle force that had you gagging slightly. you didn't care, you liked it rough, liked the way he was claiming you, even if it was just your mouth for now. you felt your pussy clench, desperate for his touch. “fuck, baby,” he murmured, his voice strained, “you're so good at that.”

his praise spurred you on, and you took him deeper, your throat tightening around his cock. you could feel his thighs tense, his body coiling as he approached climax. his hand slid down to your clit, rubbing furiously as you sucked him off, needing your own release to match his. just as you felt the beginnings of your own orgasm, he pulled you up, your mouth slipping off his cock with an obscene pop. “gotta cum inside you,” he said, his voice gruff and urgent.

you nodded, too overwhelmed by desire to speak. he stood, lifting you and pressing your back against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist. without another word, he slammed into you, the wall rocking with the force of his thrusts. you threw your head back, the cold metal of the wall pressing into your spine as he claimed you, his hips slamming against yours. it was everything you had dreamed of and more, the reality of having him inside you so much better than the fantasy.

you could feel your orgasm building, the tension in your body reaching a crescendo. “yes, fuck, harder,” you moaned, your voice echoing off the walls of the dimly lit room. jungkook complied, his strokes growing more intense, his grip on your hips tightening. his mouth found your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of love bites and hickeys that would be a secret testament to your passionate encounter. the pain only added to your pleasure, making you want him even more.

you came with a scream, your body tightening around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. jungkook followed quickly, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his warm cum. you felt him collapse against you, his breath hot and ragged in your ear. for a moment, you just stayed there, his cock still inside you, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath. the reality of what had just happened washed over you, leaving you feeling both satisfied and a little bit scared of the feelings that had been unleashed. but for now, all that mattered was the afterglow, the feeling of his warmth and the sticky evidence of your passion drying on your skin.

you knew that this was just the beginning of a very complicated dance, one that would have consequences that neither of you could predict. but in that moment, all you could do was hold onto him, basking in the feeling of being wanted, of being needed. his mouth found yours again, and the kiss was gentle this time, filled with something deeper than lust. it was a promise, an unspoken vow that you would navigate this dangerous world together, come hell or high water.

the night was quiet, a gentle hum of the city outside the window barely breaking the silence that filled your shared room. you lay beside jungkook, your body clad only in his oversized shirt and a pair of his boxers. his strong arms were wrapped protectively around you, holding you close as if he could shield you from the world with just his embrace. the warmth of his body pressed against yours was comforting, a soothing balm against the chaos of your thoughts. you felt safe there, cocooned in his arms, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t regret a thing.

as you drifted off to sleep, your head nestled against his chest, you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. it was a reassuring sound, grounding you, reminding you that, at least for tonight, you weren’t alone. the weight of his arm across your waist anchored you, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of the moment, your breathing slowly syncing with his. the world outside, with all its dangers and uncertainties, faded into the background as you let yourself be lulled into a peaceful sleep, the darkness of the room a stark contrast to the warmth you felt in his embrace.

when you woke the next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. you blinked sleepily, momentarily disoriented, before realizing where you were—still in jungkook’s arms, his grip on you as secure as it had been the night before. you tilted your head slightly to look at him, his features softened in sleep, his usually intense expression relaxed. there was something peaceful about the way he looked, a stark contrast to the hardened exterior he presented to the world.

a tender smile tugged at your lips as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. he stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his arms tightening around you for just a moment before relaxing again. you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, not wanting to disturb him, and quietly slipped out of bed. as you dressed in your usual training gear, you couldn’t help but glance back at him, still sleeping soundly, and a warmth spread through your chest at the sight. you didn’t know what the day would bring, but at least for now, you felt a sense of contentment that had been absent from your life for far too long.

the training room was nearly deserted when you arrived, the early hour ensuring you were alone. you welcomed the solitude, the chance to clear your mind before the day began in earnest. the familiar sound of your fists connecting with the heavy bag echoed in the otherwise silent room, the repetitive motion calming you, giving you something tangible to focus on.

but as you trained, your mind drifted back to the previous night, to the feel of jungkook’s lips on yours, the way he held you like you were the only thing that mattered. a shiver ran down your spine at the memory, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. would things change between you? would it complicate your already dangerous situation? you shook your head, trying to push those thoughts away. there was no point in worrying about the future when you could barely manage the present.

your focus was broken by the sound of the door to the training room opening. you glanced over your shoulder to see a girl, probably more than a couple definite years younger than you, hesitantly stepping inside. she looked almost out of place there, her small frame and nervous demeanor starkly contrasting with the rough men you usually saw training. her eyes darted around the room, as if she were expecting trouble, and when they landed on the punching bag, she seemed to steel herself.

your heart sank as you watched her approach the bag, her movements awkward and unsure. ahe threw a punch, but it was weak, barely making the bag sway. laughter erupted from a group of men watching her from the corner, their mockery harsh and biting. the girl flinched, her face flushing with embarrassment as she tried again, her fists connecting with the bag in a feeble attempt at self-defense.

you couldn’t just stand by and watch her struggle. something inside you stirred—maybe it was a protective instinct, or maybe it was just the memory of being in her shoes once, but you found yourself walking over to her, ignoring the jeers from the men. as you approached, she looked up at you with wide eyes, surprise evident in her expression.

“you’re holding your stance all wrong,” you said gently, stepping up beside her. she looked at you, her brow furrowing in confusion, but you offered her a reassuring smile. “here, let me show you.”

you placed your hands on her shoulders, adjusting her posture, guiding her to position her feet correctly. she was tense under your touch, her nervousness palpable, but she didn’t pull away. you showed her how to properly throw a punch, how to put her weight behind it, how to channel her strength into each movement. as she tried again, this time with your guidance, the punch was more solid, the bag swaying slightly with the force of it.

“there you go,” you encouraged, stepping back to give her space. she tried again, and this time the punch was even stronger, more confident. the laughter from the men faded as they realized she was improving, and you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in her determination.

the girl looked up at you, a small, tentative smile on her face, and your heart ached at the sight. she was so young, so innocent in some ways, and yet here she was, trying to survive in a world that would chew her up and spit her out without a second thought. you couldn’t help but wonder how someone like her had ended up in a place like this.

“thank you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. you nodded, returning her smile. “keep practicing,” you told her, your tone encouraging. “you’ll get the hang of it.” she nodded, her smile growing a little more confident, and you turned to head toward the locker room. but as you reached the door, her voice stopped you in your tracks.

“i never thought i’d find you.”

you froze, your hand hovering over the doorknob. slowly, you turned back to face her, confusion and disbelief warring within you. “what are you talking about?” you asked, your voice shaky, uncertain.

she took a hesitant step toward you, her eyes wide with something you couldn’t quite place—hope, maybe? “mom and dad, they told me i had a sister. but i never got to see what kind of life you had.”

the world tilted on its axis, and you felt as if the ground had just been ripped out from under you. a sister? you had a sister? your mind raced, trying to make sense of her words, but it was as if your thoughts were stuck in quicksand, the more you tried to grasp them, the more they slipped away. you had never known you had a sister—let alone one who had been raised in this underground world.

you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize your hand had slipped off the doorknob until you heard the sound of glass shattering. you looked down in a daze, seeing the shards of the glass you had dropped scattered across the floor. but the glass wasn’t what held your attention—it was the way your hands were trembling, the way your heart was racing in your chest, the sheer disbelief and confusion that had taken hold of you.

the girl took another step closer, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear. “(y/n) (l/n),” she said quietly, and your heart dropped into your stomach. you sank to your knees, the weight of her words pressing down on you, leaving you breathless.

she was your sister. she had to be. there was no other explanation for the way your name had fallen from her lips, no other reason why she would be looking at you with such hope, such familiarity. but it didn’t make sense—it couldn’t make sense. you had been alone your whole life, always fighting to survive, never knowing you had someone out there, someone who was a part of you. you didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process what you were feeling. all you could do was look at her, at the beautiful, young girl standing before you, at the innocence that had been so clearly marred by the darkness of this world. she looked at you with tears in her eyes, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you and pulled you into a hug.

the warmth of her embrace was foreign, yet strangely comforting. you felt the tears begin to blur your vision as she held you, her grip tight as if she was afraid to let go. you wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. all you could do was hold onto her, the weight of this revelation pressing down on you, threatening to crush you.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the tears streamed down your face. “i’m so sorry.” she didn’t say anything, just held you tighter, her own tears soaking into your shirt. you could feel the raw emotion in her touch, the desperation, the need for connection that mirrored your own. it was overwhelming, this sudden discovery of a sister you never knew you had, this realization that you weren’t as alone in the world as you had always believed.

the days that followed your discovery were a whirlwind of emotions, each one more intense than the last. it felt surreal to wake up every morning knowing that the girl who had stumbled into your life was your sister, that the person you had unknowingly searched for all these years had been right under your nose, confined to the same underground world that you had infiltrated. eunha, she called herself—her real name, a name that felt strange on your tongue, yet familiar in a way you couldn’t quite explain. there was something about her presence that felt like home, like a piece of you that had been missing was finally found.

the first few days were spent mostly in the training room, away from prying eyes. you found yourself drawn to her, spending every free moment getting to know her, piecing together the fragments of a life you had never known existed.

“i’ve never seen the outside world,” she confessed one day, her voice tinged with a sadness that made your heart ache. the two of you sat side by side on the floor of the training room, your backs against the wall, your shoulders almost touching. she was picking at the frayed edge of her worn-out shoes, her eyes downcast, as if ashamed to admit such a thing. “i’ve only heard about it, in stories, from people who come and go. but i’ve never been out there.”

the weight of her words hit you like a punch to the gut. you had always taken the outside world for granted—the sun, the sky, the fresh air, all the little things that made life worth living. to think that your sister had been deprived of all that, trapped in this suffocating underground existence, filled you with a deep sense of regret.

“they kept me here,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “mom and dad, they said it was for my safety, that the outside world was too dangerous, that people like us. we wouldn’t survive out there. i believed them because i didn’t know any better. i grew up knowing only this place, these people, and the stories of a sister i thought i’d never meet.”

her words wrapped around your heart, squeezing it with a pain you hadn’t expected. you had always known your parents were involved in something dark, but to think that they had kept her here, isolated, fed her lies about the world beyond these walls. it made your blood boil. “eunha,” you began, your voice thick with emotion, but she shook her head, cutting you off.

“i go by eunha here, but it’s not just a name,” she said, looking up at you with those wide, innocent eyes that held a world of pain behind them. “it’s who i am in this place. it’s all i’ve ever known. but now that i’ve met you, i don’t know who i’m supposed to be anymore.”

you reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “you don’t have to be anyone but yourself,” you told her gently. “we’ll figure it out together.” there was a moment of silence between you, the weight of her words settling over you both like a heavy blanket. she seemed to gather herself before speaking again, her tone more resolved, though still tinged with uncertainty.

“and you, who are you?” she asked, her gaze searching yours. “i mean, i know you’re my sister, but you’re different from everyone else here. you don’t belong here, do you?”

you sighed, knowing you couldn’t lie to her. not now. “i’m undercover,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “my real name isn’t lee rachel. i’m a cop, eunha. i’m here to take this place down from the inside.” her eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, you feared she might recoil from you, that she might see you as the enemy. but instead, she looked at you with something like awe, mixed with a hint of fear.

“a cop,” she repeated, as if trying to wrap her mind around it. “so everything, everything you’ve been doing here,”

“is to gather information,” you confirmed. “to find a way to shut this place down for good. but i never imagined i’d find you here, eunha. i never knew—god, i never knew.” she was silent for a long moment, absorbing everything you’d told her. then, to your surprise, she leaned in, resting her head on your shoulder. “i’m glad it’s you,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady. “i’m glad i found you.”

you felt a lump form in your throat, and you swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “i’m glad i found you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. for the first time in years, you felt a bond, a connection, that went beyond anything you’d ever known. eunha was your sister, your blood, and you felt a fierce need to protect her, to make up for all the lost time, to somehow give her the life she had been denied.

“i won’t tell anyone,” she promised, her voice firm, her eyes shining with determination. “i won’t say a word about who you really are. you can trust me, (y/n).”

“i know,” you said, giving her a small, grateful smile. “i trust you.”

in the days that followed, you introduced her to jungkook. his initial reaction was one of shock, his dark eyes widening as he processed the news. “you have a sister?” he had asked, his voice a mix of surprise and disbelief. “how, how did you not know?”

“it’s a long story,” you had replied, glancing at eunha, who stood quietly by your side. “but she’s here now, and that’s what matters.” jungkook’s gaze had shifted to her, studying her with a mixture of curiosity and caution. you could see the wheels turning in his head, the way he was trying to assess whether she could be trusted, whether she posed a threat to your mission. he was protective, not just of you, but of the operation, and you couldn’t blame him for being wary.

but eunha, in her gentle way, had slowly begun to win him over. it wasn’t easy—jungkook was naturally suspicious of anyone new, especially someone with ties to the underground world. but she was persistent, always polite, always kind, and over time, you could see the way his defenses began to crumble.

one evening, as the three of you sat together in the small kitchen of your shared hideout, eunha had looked at jungkook with a mischievous glint in her eye. “you know,” she had said, her tone light, “i’ve never had a brother-in-law before.”

jungkook had nearly choked on his drink, his eyes going wide with surprise. “brother-in-law?” he had repeated, his voice incredulous. she had nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “you’re with my sister, right? that makes you my brother-in-law.”

you had watched as jungkook’s expression softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. it was a simple statement, but it meant more than eunha could have known. it was an acceptance, a sign that she was beginning to find her place in your strange little family. jungkook had looked at you then, and the warmth in his gaze had made your heart skip a beat. “brother-in-law, huh?” he had said, his voice teasing. “i could get used to that.”

you had smiled back at him, feeling a swell of emotion in your chest. in that moment, you realized just how much had changed since eunha had come into your life. you weren’t alone anymore, and neither was she. you had each other, and now you had jungkook too. as the days passed, the three of you grew closer, your little makeshift family becoming something solid, something real. there were still challenges ahead, still dangers lurking around every corner, but for the first time, you felt like you could face them together. you had found your sister, and in doing so, you had found a piece of yourself that you hadn’t even known was missing.

and as you sat with eunha one night, listening to her talk about her dreams of seeing the outside world, of finally living the life she had always imagined, you knew that you would do whatever it took to make that dream a reality. you would protect her, you would keep her safe, and you would ensure that she never had to face the darkness of this world alone. because she was your sister, and you were hers. and nothing, not even the shadows that threatened to engulf you both, could ever change that.

the day of the annual dinner arrived far too quickly for your liking. the boss had called everyone in, demanding a full attendance for a formal gathering that evening, and you knew there was no way to avoid it. the fact that you had to keep eunha’s true identity a secret gnawed at you relentlessly, eating away at your resolve. you had only just found her, only just begun to know her, and already, you were forced to hide the bond that connected you. It felt wrong—like a betrayal of everything you wanted to protect. but your cover had to be maintained, even if it meant stifling the fierce protective instinct that had risen within you.

as you stood in front of the mirror, your mind was heavy with the weight of the secrets you bore. you were clad in an elegant, form-fitting dress that clung to your curves in all the right places, the deep shade of midnight blue contrasting beautifully against your skin. the dress was more formal than your usual attire, a clear reminder of the precarious balance you walked between two worlds. your hands trembled slightly as you adjusted the straps, trying to push aside the unease that churned in your stomach.

jungkook stood beside you, his reflection in the mirror providing a momentary distraction from the storm of thoughts in your head. he looked impeccable in his tailored black suit, the lines sharp and precise, exuding an air of authority and confidence that only he could pull off with such effortless grace. his dark hair was slicked back, highlighting the strong angles of his face, and his eyes were locked on you, an appreciative smile playing on his lips.

“absolutely stunning,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with admiration. his eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail, and you felt a blush creep up your neck, warming your cheeks. you managed a small smile, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “you’re just saying that because you have to,” you teased, though the way he looked at you made your heart flutter in a way that no words could adequately describe.

“not even close,” he replied, stepping closer, his hand coming to rest on your waist. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “you’re breathtaking, (y/n).”

before you could respond, there was a soft knock on the door, and you turned to see eunha standing in the doorway, her wide eyes filled with awe. she looked so innocent, so untouched by the world’s cruelty, and the sight made your heart twist painfully. she was dressed in an adorable white dress, the fabric flowing around her like a cloud, making her look even more ethereal than she already was. the dress was simple, but it suited her perfectly, highlighting her natural beauty in a way that made your breath catch.

“you look gorgeous,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. it was true—she was beautiful, radiating a kind of purity that you hadn’t seen in so long, not in a place like this. eunha’s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, and she gave you a shy smile, her fingers twisting together nervously. “i was gonnq say the same about you,” she admitted, her voice soft, almost hesitant, as if she were afraid to speak the words aloud.

you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a rush of affection for the girl standing before you. she was still so young, so untainted by the darkness that surrounded you both. she had been kept hidden away for so long, but now that she was here, you wanted to protect that innocence, to keep her safe from the harsh realities of the world she had been thrust into.

“come here,” you said, holding out your hand to her. she hesitated for a moment before stepping into the room, her small hand slipping into yours. you pulled her into a gentle hug, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, and the sensation filled you with a fierce determination to keep her safe, no matter what.

“would you like me to do your makeup?” you asked, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. the question was light, almost playful, and you watched as her face lit up with excitement, her eyes sparkling with a joy that made your heart churn. “really?” she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of hope and disbelief, as if she couldn’t quite believe that you were offering her something so simple, yet so meaningful.

“of course,” you said with a smile. “you’re beautiful as you are, but a little makeup might make you feel even more special.” eunha nodded eagerly, and you guided her to sit at the small vanity in the corner of the room. as you began to carefully apply the makeup, you kept it simple—just a touch of concealer to even out her skin tone, a light dusting of blush to bring out the natural flush in her cheeks, and a hint of mascara to define her long lashes. you didn’t want to overwhelm her, but you could see the way her eyes shone with happiness as you worked, the way she held herself a little taller, a little more confident.

when you were finished, you stepped back to admire your work, and you felt a surge of pride as you looked at her. she was stunning, and not just because of the makeup—she had a natural beauty that radiated from within, a light that hadn’t been dimmed despite everything she had been through. “you look even prettier than me,” you told her, your voice filled with genuine admiration.

she blushed again, but there was a glow in her eyes, a happiness that you knew was rare in this place. “thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. “i’ve never felt like this before.” you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “you deserve to feel beautiful,” you said softly. “because you are.”

she gave you a shy smile before she excused herself, her steps light as she left the room. you watched her go, your heart swelling with affection and a fierce protectiveness that you hadn’t felt in a long time. as the door closed behind her, you turned back to jungkook, who had been watching the entire exchange with a soft smile on his lips. there was something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat, a warmth and tenderness that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

“you’re gonna be an amazing mom one day,” he said, his voice low and filled with a kind of quiet certainty that made your breath catch in your throat. the words hit you like a gentle wave, washing over you with a warmth that made your chest tighten with emotion. you hadn’t thought about it much before, about what the future might hold for you and jungkook, but hearing him say those words, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, made something inside you click into place.

you stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you looked up at him, your eyes searching his for any hint of doubt. “is that a promise?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. he didn’t hesitate, his hands coming to rest on your waist as he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. when he pulled back, his eyes were filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter. “it just might be,” he murmured, his voice filled with a kind of quiet promise that made you believe, for the first time in a long time, that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

the dining room was dimly lit, the heavy wooden table stretching out before you like a dark, endless expanse. thirteen chairs were arranged around it, and each one was filled with a familiar face. eunha sat to your right, her hands folded neatly in her lap, a serene expression on her face that did nothing to betray the turmoil you knew she had endured. jungkook was on your left, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos that surrounded you. across from you sat the boss, his cold, calculating eyes surveying the room with the indifference of a man who had seen far too much, done far too much, to be moved by anything.

to your horror, the man who had tried to violate you was seated just a few spots down the table, his gaze fixed firmly on the plate in front of him, as if avoiding eye contact with you could somehow erase the memory of what he had done. the mere sight of him made your skin crawl, a visceral reminder of the danger that lurked within these walls.

you felt jungkook’s hand slip beneath the tablecloth, seeking yours. his fingers found yours, intertwining with a warmth that steadied your nerves. he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent message that he was with you, that he would protect you. you squeezed back, grateful for his strength, for the way he could calm the storm inside you with just a touch.

the clinking of silverware ceased as the boss cleared his throat, drawing the room’s attention. the silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with anticipation. he leaned forward slightly, his sharp eyes settling on jungkook. “i heard there was a mishap in the locker room earlier,” he began, his voice deceptively calm. there was a pause as his gaze bore into jungkook, the tension thickening in the air. “where do you get off beating my men?”

the question hung in the air, cold and accusatory, and your heart skipped a beat. jungkook’s hand tightened around yours, but his expression remained composed. he met the boss’s gaze head-on, unflinching. “i wouldn’t have done it,” he began, his voice steady, “if i hadn’t caught him trying to assault her.” he didn’t need to specify who “her” was—everyone knew. his words hung in the air like a sharp blade, slicing through the tension.

jungkook turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on the man who had hurt you. the man cowered, his head bowed in shame, his entire body trembling. he was a coward, stripped of his bravado in the face of the truth. your heart pounded in your chest as the memory of that day flashed before your eyes. you felt jungkook’s thumb stroke the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that helped keep your fear at bay. but there was no comfort to be found in the boss’s cold, calculating gaze as he turned his attention to the man in question.

“is that so?” the boss asked, his voice chillingly even. the man didn’t answer. he couldn’t. his silence spoke volumes, a silent admission of guilt that echoed in the stillness of the room.

the boss sighed, a sound that was more weary than anything else. then, in one fluid motion, he reached beneath his jacket and pulled out a pistol. the sound of the safety clicking off was deafening in the silence, and before anyone could react, he raised the gun and fired. the bullet struck the man square in the forehead, the crack of the gunshot reverberating through the room like a thunderclap. blood sprayed against the wall behind him as his body slumped forward onto the table, lifeless. and then, there were twelve.

you gasped, the air leaving your lungs in a rush as the reality of what had just happened hit you. the room was suddenly too quiet, the silence suffocating. the shock rippled through you like a cold wave, numbing your senses, freezing you in place. you turned to look at jungkook, and the sheer horror in his eyes mirrored your own. the two of you were caught in a shared nightmare, one that you couldn’t wake up from, no matter how much you wanted to.

the boss calmly holstered his gun, as if he had just dealt with a minor inconvenience rather than taken a life. “why didn’t you just say so?” he asked, his tone almost conversational, as if the murder that had just taken place was nothing more than a routine matter.

you were mortified, but what terrified you even more was the lack of reaction from eunha. she hadn’t flinched, hadn’t gasped, hadn’t even blinked. her face was a mask of emotionless calm, as if she had witnessed this kind of thing a hundred times before and it no longer fazed her. it was a stark contrast to the horror you and jungkook felt, and it sent a chill down your spine. how much had she seen? how much had she endured to become so numb?

the boss nodded to eunha, and without hesitation, she stood and began to pass around twelve wine glasses, moving with a practiced grace that belied her youth. she placed a glass in front of each person, her movements smooth and precise, her expression serene, as if she were simply going through the motions of a task she had performed countless times before. as she reached you, you couldn’t help but notice the way her hands didn’t tremble, the way her eyes remained dull, devoid of any real emotion. she was a ghost of the girl she should have been, and the realization made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. how had she survived in this world for so long, and how had it changed her? she then passed around a basket of bread, followed by a bottle of wine, filling each glass with a measured amount. when she was done, she returned to her seat, her face as impassive as ever.

the boss raised his glass, and the rest of you followed suit, though your hands felt heavy as lead, your movements mechanical. “tomorrow night,” he began, “there will be a heist. it’s a big one, and there’s a good chance it’ll end in a shootout with a rival gang. i need all of you at your best, focused, and ready to do whatever it takes to come out on top.”

you listened to his words, but your mind was elsewhere, trapped in the image of the man’s lifeless body slumped over the table, the blood still dripping onto the floor. this was the world you were in now, a world where life was cheap, and death was just another part of the business. you didn’t need to say anything to jungkook; the look you shared was enough. this was a warning, a grim reminder of the stakes you were playing with, that there was no turning back.

the next day dawned slowly, the pale light of morning seeping through the cracks in the heavy curtains like a hesitant promise. you awoke in jungkook’s arms, his warmth a comforting presence beside you. the memories of the previous night clung to your thoughts like a dark fog, but as you lay there in the quiet of the morning, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, you felt a small, flickering spark of hope. he was here. you weren’t alone.

he stirred beside you, his eyes fluttering open as he sensed your wakefulness. he gave you a sleepy smile, the kind that always seemed to reach the very corners of his eyes, and you felt a faint tug at your heart. it was incredible how he could make you feel safe, even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart. “morning,” he murmured, his voice still husky from sleep. he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. “how are you feeling?”

you hesitated, the question hanging in the air between you. how were you supposed to feel? the image of the man’s lifeless body from last night still haunted your thoughts, a gruesome reminder of the world you were trapped in. but when you looked into jungkook’s eyes, you saw something else—strength, determination, and a flicker of hope that had been missing for too long. “i’m okay,” you finally replied, your voice quiet but steady. “i’m just trying to wrap my head around everything.”

he nodded, understanding in his gaze. “i know it’s a lot,” he said softly, “but try to look on the bright side. you have me, and you have eunha. tonight, it’ll all be over, and we can get out of this mess for good.” he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. the feeling of his chest rising and falling beneath you, the steady beat of his heart, it grounded you. it reminded you of what you were fighting for. this wasn’t just about taking down a criminal organization; it was about securing a future for you, for jungkook, and for eunha. a future where she could be free, where you could show her the world beyond these dark walls.

“i can’t wait to show her the outside world,” you whispered, your thoughts drifting to your sister. “she’s been trapped here for so long, she deserves to see everything she’s missed.” jungkook’s hand found yours, squeezing it gently. “she will,” he promised, his voice full of conviction. “we’ll show her everything. qnd we’ll do it together.”

the day stretched out before you, a long, quiet expanse of time that felt strangely calm. jungkook stayed by your side, his presence a constant source of reassurance. he made sure you ate, even though your appetite was nearly nonexistent, and he kept the conversation light, steering you away from the darker thoughts that threatened to consume you.

you spent hours talking about the future, about the life you could build once this was all over. jungkook painted pictures of a life filled with simple joys—waking up to the sound of birds outside your window, spending lazy afternoons exploring the city with eunha, and quiet evenings curled up on the couch with him, watching movies or just talking about your day. it was a dream, but it was one you clung to with all your might, letting it fuel the fire that kept you going.

as the day wore on, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room. you found yourself staring out the window, watching as the light slowly faded, the promise of nightfall inching closer. tonight was the night. the thought sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of anticipation and fear knotting in your stomach.

jungkook noticed, his hand finding yours once again. “hey,” he said softly, his voice a gentle anchor in the sea of your turbulent thoughts. “we’ve got this. we’ll all be in the same spot, and the rest of our team will be there to cover our backs. just a few more hours, and then, we’re free.” you nodded, trying to absorb the confidence in his words, to let it steady your nerves. the idea of freedom, of living a life with him, it was almost too much to hope for. but it was all you had, and you weren’t about to let go of it.

“i’m just worried,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “what if something goes wrong?” jungkook cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “nothing’s gonna go wrong,” he said firmly. “we’ve planned for this, we’ve trained for this, and we’re ready. you’re ready.”

his words were like a lifeline, something to hold onto as you navigated the treacherous waters ahead. you took a deep breath, nodding slowly. “okay,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. “i trust you.” a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “good,” he said, his voice softening. “because i trust you too. and after tonight, we’ll finally have the life we’ve been dreaming of.” you spent the rest of the afternoon in a sort of quiet companionship, the two of you moving through the motions of the day as if in a trance. there was an unspoken understanding between you—a shared sense of purpose that kept you both grounded, even as the weight of what was to come pressed down on you.

the night had a suffocating air, thick with tension that clung to every breath you took. the warehouse where the showdown was set to occur loomed ahead like a dark, foreboding fortress, its looming shadows melding into the blackness of the night. dim light spilled through the cracks in the metal walls, casting eerie shapes on the ground. the gravel crunched beneath your boots as you approached, the sound barely audible over the distant hum of the city that was unaware of the impending bloodshed.

jungkook was at your side, his presence a mixture of comfort and concern. he walked with a tense calm, his hand subtly brushing against yours with every step. his gaze darted around, always vigilant, yet there was a softness in his eyes when they settled on you. “tonight’s the night,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. “we’ll get through this, and after that, we’ll be free. you, me, and eunha. we’ll show her the world.”

his words were meant to reassure, but you couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on your chest. the future he painted sounded like a dream—one that you so desperately wanted to hold onto, but the reality of the night made it feel like it was slipping through your fingers. you glanced up at him, your thoughts heavy with the unspoken fears that swirled in your mind. “jungkook,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “if we don't make it out—”

but he cut you off, his tone firm, almost commanding. “we will make it out.” he stopped walking and turned to face you, his hand gently gripping your arm. there was a fire in his eyes, one that burned with determination. “but i love you more. more than anything else in this world.”

before you could respond, the sudden, sharp sound of gunfire shattered the silence. the air erupted with chaos—screams, the sound of bullets tearing through the night, the desperate shouts of men fighting for survival. the world around you became a blur of movement and noise, the lines between friend and foe blurring in the chaos.

jungkook moved with swift precision, his gun raised as he shot at the figures that darted through the shadows. you followed close behind, your heart pounding in your chest. every sense was heightened, every movement critical as you ducked and weaved through the barrage of bullets.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure move toward you with a gun aimed directly at your head. time slowed for a split second, and your breath caught in your throat. but before you could react, a deafening shot rang out, and the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless. you turned to see jungkook, his gun still smoking, his eyes wide with the intensity of the moment. “thank you,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with relief and gratitude. he nodded, a brief smile flickering across his lips before he motioned for you to move. the two of you ducked behind a stack of crates, your backs pressed against the cold metal as you caught your breath.

just then, out of the smoke and chaos, a small figure came running toward you—eunha. her eyes were wide with fear, her small frame trembling as she reached you. the sight of her sent a jolt of panic through your veins. “eunha,” you hissed, pulling her close. “what are you doing here? it's not safe, you have to go.”

but her eyes were filled with tears, and she shook her head violently. “no, you have to go. please, you have to leave now.” the urgency in her voice was unlike anything you'd ever heard before. "what? why?" your mind raced with confusion and fear, trying to make sense of her words.

through her sobs, eunha’s voice cracked as she confessed, “i told the boss about you. i didn’t mean to—i was excited about seeing you, and it slipped. i was afraid, i didn’t know what to do, and i told him everything. you have to leave before he gets to you.”

the betrayal hit you like a punch to the gut, the shock so overwhelming that it took you a moment to process what she was saying. you felt jungkook stiffen beside you, the disbelief and hurt clear in his eyes. but there was no time to dwell on it—sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder with each passing second, signaling the arrival of the authorities.

“stay here,” you told her, your voice a mix of urgency and fear. you peered around the crates to see a swarm of officers descending upon the scene, led by hoseok. relief flooded through you despite the chaos; the sight of him meant that the nightmare might finally end. jungkook's grip on your hand tightened as he offered you a strained smile. the disbelief and betrayal were still evident in his eyes, but there was also a flicker of hope. “it’s almost over,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

the rival members, realizing they were outmatched, began to scatter. the officers moved in, detaining anyone they could get their hands on. in the midst of it all, you saw the boss—your boss—being dragged away by hoseok, thrashing against his grip. but then, something changed. the boss’s eyes found yours, locking onto you with a look so dark, so filled with malevolence, that it made your blood run cold.

before you could react, he pushed hoseok off with a sudden burst of strength, grabbing the officer’s gun in one swift motion. the gunshot rang out, splitting the air with a deafening crack. your heart stopped, and for a moment, time stood still. but the pain never came. you looked down at yourself in disbelief—no blood, no wound. then you saw her.

eunha stood beside you, her eyes wide with shock and pain as blood bloomed across her chest like a crimson flower. the world crashed down around you as she dropped to the ground, the life draining from her eyes even before her body hit the earth.

“no!” the scream tore from your throat as you dropped to your knees beside her, jungkook following suit, his own voice choked with horror. you grabbed eunha’s hand, feeling the warmth slipping away as she struggled to breathe. “hold on,” you pleaded, your voice breaking. “help is here, just hold on.”

but all she could do was smile through the pain, her grip on your hands weakening with each passing second. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, a tear slipping down her cheek.

her eyes fluttered as she forced out her final words, her voice a fragile whisper that broke your heart into pieces. “thank you, for showing me the outside world.” and then her hand went limp, her eyes closed, and the world went black. the moment her hand fell limp, a visceral, gut-wrenching scream tore from your throat, echoing through the warehouse with a sound of raw, unbridled grief. the world around you seemed to collapse into a nightmarish haze of flashing lights and distant voices. jungkook’s face, though painted with his own shock and horror, was the only constant in this maelstrom.

you crumpled beside her lifeless form, your fingers still clutching her cold, bloodstained hand. the world blurred into a mix of red and black as your vision swam with tears. the sirens, once a distant wail of hope, now sounded like the cruel harbingers of your loss. wach breath you took was ragged, tearing at your chest with an intensity that felt like it would rip you apart from the inside out.

jungkook wrapped his arms around you, his hold both firm and tender as he tried to pull you away from the scene. his own sobs were muffled against your shoulder, his voice a low, desperate murmur in your ear. “don’t look,” he choked out, his words straining to break through the tears. “please, don’t look.”

but you couldn’t stop. you couldn’t look away from eunha’s body being gently lifted onto a stretcher, the cold, clinical efficiency of the officers contrasting brutally with the warmth and life that had been snuffed out so cruelly. your sobs grew louder, mingling with jungkook’s as the reality of the situation sank in. you thrashed in his arms, your body wracked with grief, your mind screaming in denial and pain.

hoseok, his face a mask of concern and sympathy, rushed to your side. his presence was a small comfort amidst the chaos, but his words felt hollow against the backdrop of your overwhelming anguish. “it’s okay,” he said, trying to soothe you with a voice full of empathy. “it’s all over. it’s gonna be alright.”

but it wasn’t okay. it wasn’t over. the weight of loss was crushing, and no amount of reassurances could lift it from your heart. you continued to sob, your body shaking uncontrollably as jungkook held you close, his own tears soaking into your hair. the world outside seemed to fall away, leaving only the sharp, searing pain of your sister’s death.

the following days were a blur of darkness and sorrow. the funeral was a solemn, heart-wrenching affair, and every moment felt like an eternity of raw, unhealed wounds. jungkook was your steadfast support, his quiet strength a fragile anchor in the storm of your grief.

on the day of eunha’s memorial, the sky was a somber gray, matching the heaviness that settled over you. jungkook walked with you to the cemetery, his presence a balm for your shattered spirit. he, too, felt as if he had lost a child of his own. the cemetery was a quiet, serene place, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had consumed your life. the graves were marked with simple stones and surrounded by patches of manicured grass.

when you reached her grave, jungkook carefully set down a bouquet of fresh, vibrant flowers. his tears flowed freely, mingling with the rain that had begun to fall softly from the sky. he stood beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders as he kissed your forehead. his touch was gentle, but it held a depth of emotion that spoke of his own suffering and solidarity with your pain.

you knelt beside the grave, your heart aching as you stared at the photograph of eunha framed by the flowers. the sadness that had been your constant companion now seemed to reach a new, unbearable depth. you reached into your pocket and pulled out the medal you had won for the infiltration—the symbol of a world that had taken so much from you.

with trembling hands, you placed the medal beside eunha’s photograph. it felt like a cruel irony—a symbol of your accomplishments in a world that had ultimately failed to protect her. you whispered a final goodbye, tears streaming down your face as you wished her peace in a place far removed from the cruelty of the underground. jungkook watched you with a profound sadness in his eyes. his own tears were a testament to the love and loss he felt for eunha, and the comfort he tried to offer you was an echo of the pain that mirrored your own. he held you close, the warmth of his embrace a small solace in the bitter chill of your grief.

as you stood together, gazing at the grave, you found some small measure of comfort in the thought that eunha was now in a place far better than the harsh world she had known. her spirit was free from the shadows that had plagued her life, and the hope that she was exploring something far more beautiful than the outside world, gave you a tiny glimmer of solace in the midst of your overwhelming sorrow.

✧.*

a/n: lowkey my name except pildo survives

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melimelissa998 · 1 year ago

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Slut!

Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You knew how handsome Jungkook was, but you also knew you didn't have a chance with him, so to befriend him was a safer option. But sometimes being kind can give the wrong idea...

“Did, you, hear?” my coworker Daniela asks with big pauses in between, I’m too busy with my morning reports that I didn’t notice when she sat on my desk “The new guy is going to be working on our floor for a few weeks” she informs me and I nod “Yep, you texted, emailed and told me that on the phone before I got here Dany” I say without taking my eyes off the computer screen.

Almost a month ago a new guy started working here and that’s all this office has been talking about since then. How handsome he is, how good he dresses, how lovely he talks… and the list goes on and on. Even though he had a month here, I haven’t actually seen him, besides, I went off vacations the week he started working on our floor.

Honeslty at this point he's not even the new guy anymore

“He’s just so handsome, his name is Jeon Jungkook, he’s a Virgo, 5’11”, went to Global Cyber University, and I swear, I’m in love.” She puts one hand on her chest and fans herself with the other. “Aw, good for you, stalker.” I say in a sarcastic tone “. I except my wedding invitation” I joke with a fake smile and she lets out an exaggerated sight. “He’s in the conference room with Namjoon and Taehyung, want to pass by to see him?” She suggests and gives me a small push on the shoulder “Did you say pass the conference room to see the new guy?” Jennie’s head pops out of her cubicle, I try not to laugh but I give in and accept “Only because it’s on my way to the cafeteria and I want my coffee” I say and she claps in excitement, I turn off my screen and hop off my chair. Jennie walks around the desk to loop her arm with mine and tugs me to start walking. As we pass by the long window, I spot the 3 men inside the room; Namjoon and Tae are facing our direction leaning on the meeting table talking to the Jungkook, who was giving his back to us. “Ugh, I swear he’s so handsome” Jennie says in a whisper, “I know right?” Daniela agrees, I try to look behind her head to take a better look at the new guy, but I only catch a glimpse of his profile. He has black hair and a really cute nose; his jaw looks really sharp and I see how many earrings he has and I think that’s what shocks me the most. “I can’t see his face but yeah he looks cute” I compliment, they agree with a giggle and I feel dumb remembering we are not teenagers anymore but sure act like it in the office.

While finishing our coffee and telling my friends how my vacations were, I hear the attempt of whispers coming from a certain area in the room, the 3 of us turn to see why there were loud whispers and it was all because the new guy was entering the cafeteria. I take a better look at him, handsome indeed. “Oh, so now I see why we’re all drooling for him.” I say and look at Daniela and she wiggles her eyebrows at me.“I heard Ari invited him for a drink and he said no” Jennie tells us and I can’t help but grimace. “Yeah? I heard it was Jihyo who invited him for dinner?” Daniela says in a question tone. “Her, Ari, Hanna and even Supervisor Yuri asked him out, but he keeps rejecting people, I mean come on, Ari? Who says no to her? Like the hottest one from the office?” Jennie rolls her eyes and I can’t help but laugh at her frustration. “Come on, he’s been here less than a month, let him breath.” I defend the poor guy, Daniela gives me a small push “You should ask him out Y/N, he looks like your type” she encourages me and I shake my head “Nop, if he rejected Ari and Hanna AND supervisor Yuri, then no.”

I take the last sip of my coffee and trash it out. Jennie and Daniela do the same and as we walk out the cafeteria, I hear someone call out the unfamiliar name of ‘Jungkook’ andby instinct I turn to see who called his name, I see there’s a coworker in front of Jungkook and he half smiles at her. I see his face with a “here we go again” expression, she gives him a small box with a bow on it and hear her ask if they could talk in private. I can’t help to chuckle thinking how we were just talking about this, he must’ve heard me because he turns to look at my direction, he stares at me but I can’t read if he’s mad about my laugh or just casually felt my gaze on him; I don’t turn away, I like how his eyes are dark brown but I still see a sparkly cute glow in them that make me want to keep staring. I start to feel conscious about how I haven't taken my eyes off him so I turn around a little ashamed and keep walking straight out of there back to my desk again.

Around 12, I feel so bored and try to distract myself with anything else I can do until I have my lunch break in 30 more minutes, so I decide to make Jimin a visit to his office to catch up on my days off, I take a fake deck of papers and walk to the elevator to go up, when I arrive to his floor, I greet his assistant and let her know that I need Jimin to sign a few documents; “Of course you do Miss Y/N” she jokes “He’s already waiting for you” she points with her head to his office and I try to not laugh.

Jimin and I meet here at work, even though we were side by side cubicle we would only exchange ‘HI’s’ and ´Good mornings´ the first couple of months, but one day I saw him reading one of my favorite books and started chatting more and book clubbing during our lunch hour, then he got promoted to a higher position and moved 2 floors higher, but even so we still kept meeting up and sneak in his office to gossip or just hide from our work responsibilities slash wait until lunch to run off.

I knock on his door and don’t wait to hear him say come in, “Excuse me Mr. Park, I need your very important signature on these reports” I fake a serious tone and I see him panic for a second before realizing it’s just me. “Oh Y/N! you’re back” he gets up and walks to hug me.

We sit on his sofa and catch up about work, my vacations, a few gossips that’s been going around the company and of course we talk about Jungkook.

He talks about how they already knew each other before work because of Tae, he also told me how done he’s with all the girls at the company because they keep flirting with him. “I’m telling you, on the first day he had already like 8 sticky notes in his office with their numbers” he kept telling me, I didn’t want to laugh because I did feel bad for Jungkook, but I couldn’t believe how crazy they were for him, “I mean he is handsome, but oh my god, I would never do that” I say and he smirks at me “Oh so you won’t ask him out?” he asks and I shake my head “Oh hell no, I know where I stand here” I say and he rolls his eyes “Don’t say that, you are very pretty, you may have a shot” he encourages me “I know I’m pretty.” I brush my hair behind my shoulder “. But I also know when I have my shot” I shrug my shoulders and try to change the topic about what we were going to have for lunch.

Jimin and I pick a restaurant near the office close enough to walk to and invite our friends to join us. As we sit at our table Namjoon asks if it’s okay if Jungkook could join us, which we said it was fine, Jennie and I look at each other and giggled. The only chair free by the time Jungkook arrives is the one next to me and even if I told myself I wouldn’t try to ask him out that didn’t make me not be nervous. He greets us and we say hi back.

During our lunch I felt Jungkook too quit and I didn’t want him to feel left out “So Jungkook, how do you like the job so far?” I ask him and he turns a little confused at me “It’s fine, I’m okay” he answers and I expect for a little more than that but I realize that was all he is going to give me. I nod a little embarrassed and try again “That’s nice, and what about the city? Jimin told me you were from Busan” I do the small talk but again he answers with a few words “It’s nice, almost the same” I feel even more stupid and turn to finish my food.

And to think they said he was lovely…

For the rest of the lunch he would keep a conversation with the boys and that kinda made me a bit mad how he would chat with them but made me feel small…

#fy #imagine #kpop #kpop imagines #bts #bangtan #jungkook #jimin #namjoon #taehyung #office au #army #bts army #writing #fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you

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herarcadewasteland · 2 years ago

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Curious, Darling?

A/: Many many hugs and boops to the lovely @kookslastbutton for their page title and giving me the go-ahead to write a Taehyung fic inspired by it and dedicated to it! ♥

-office!au, enemies to lovers (ish...)

-Slightly Yandere!Kim Taehyung x Reader

It's decidley a little messy and fast but its 2am and my brain was working too fast.

JK Ver. Yoongi Ver.

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

Stalking through the halls, you seethed. His carefree laughter echoed through your head as you turned corners with the result of Taehyung's latest prank cradled in your trembling arms. You had been going back and forth with Taehyung since highschool, the pranks gaining him popularity and causing you to lose friends. It had taken a large turn when you had both graduated college and got accepted into one of the biggest companies with him standing at your side, smug smirk in place as it always was when he regarded you. The pranks you exchanged slowly ramped up until you dyed and cut his hair when he was out cold after a night of drinking. He had gone way too far this time though, the prank exceeding the worst you had pulled on him, which was the hair thing although he managed to make it look sexy just as he did everything else.

Walking into your office this morning, you were sipping your favourite drink and wearing your best shirt for the presentation when your eyes landed on the colour-coded pile of that same presentation in rips all around the room, the spray painted ‘V’ on your office window causing you to drop your cup in shock. The two of you had done many many things to each other in the form of pranks, but ruining work projects that had taken a year to perfect and create… it was the last prank you would accept. So here you were, storming past concerned co-workers with your project in your arms as you set out for the man himself.

His laugh guided you straight to him as you shouldered through the meeting room door,

“KIM TAEHYUNG.”

Conversation stopped as did his laughter as your anger cut through it all, heads turning to observe your red face and furrowed brows as you glared at Taehyung with the heat of hell in your eyes. You made eye contact with everyone but him, each person taking the hint and shuffling out of the conference room until you were left with the culprit. An angry huff left you as you dropped your armful of your ripped project on the table in front of him as he sat with his ankle resting on his knee, hand rubbing his lips as he watched you carefully.

“What the fuck is this?! This was for today! You knew it was for today and so did everyone else! So pray tell, why the fuck is my project in shreds with your fucking penname sprayed on my windows! There is no one, and I mean no-one else that would’ve done this.”

His huffed laugh broke you from your angry arrangement of the pieces sitting before you, your head snapped up to face him as he leaned back further into his wheeled chair. Was he infuriatingly hot and causing conflicting emotions as he stared you down through hooded eyes? Abso-fucking-lutely. That didn’t stop you from rounding the table in anger, his chair turning with you as you approached.

“Something wrong?”

You scowled as you took the last steps towards him, his head tilting up slightly to watch your face for emotion as he licked his lips slowly. Your anger won over any arousal you were feeling because of him and his stupidly perfect face, your hands pushing roughly into his solid chest. The scrape of the chair wheels making you smirk as he rolled back into the wall from the force of your shove. His eyebrows raised in surprise as you approached him again, his hands resting on the arms as he pushed himself from the chair. He was taller than you, that was for sure, but being stronger than people gave you credit for allowing you the element of surprise. So you took that last step, staring into his hypnotizing chocolate eyes as you shoved him back a step.

“Say you did it.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”, he smirks.

He fucking smirked at you when his penname was in orange paint on your windows. Your face heated with rage as he tilted his head at you, his fluffy hair gently framing his darkened eyes as you landed a hard punch to his chest. Taehyung huffed as the air left him, your eyes widening as he barely reacted before a hand grasped your own. You gasped as he tugged you around him and into the chair he was previously occupying, your hands finding the armrests as he leaned over you, his large hands caging your own on the chairs arms.

“You know exactly what you did, Kim Taehyung. You’ve gone too far.”

“Oh no, have I gone too far? Let me rectify my wrongs against poor little you immediately.”

His tone was clear and enraged you further. He had the gall to mock you when you no longer had a presentation for a promotion you had been waiting for for years now. You wrestled your hand from under his, a sharp clap echoing around you as Taehyung's head snapped to the side. The shock he showed allowed you a window to push him away and escape the room with your precious shards of presentation. He would get it now. You just had to figure out how you would go about it.

—-------

Taehyung's misdeed was over a week ago now. He had gotten the promotion because you had no presentation. Now, he had power over you. A larger, secured office and even a secretary that rumours had started round saying he fucked her in the mens washroom one lunch break. Now it was much harder for you to enact your plan. Distracting Elizabeth was easy enough, all you had to do was tell her that Park was waiting for her in conference room 38 and off she went. Taehyung was supposed to be in a big meeting so all you had to do was look for a spare key and then lock the door behind you to cover your tracks. Easy enough. The key was in an unlocked drawer in Elizabeth’s desk, hidden away under the schedule folder you had gathered your copy of Taehyung’s from. Opening the door to his office with a relieved sigh, you shut the heavy door as quietly as you could, your eyes scanning the office as soon as the door was locked behind you.

Files scattered over his desk, his laptop open and running, his windows curtained and opened slightly to let in the breeze you could only get on the 77th floor. Rushing over to his clearly organized mess, you leafed through the many documents, your eyes darting from the papers to the door as your hands trembled. All you needed was his budget request. Then you could fuck him over like he fucked you over. It was simple. Find the page, search his laptop for the unfilled form and replace his numbers with lower ones. While it could jeopardize your job, he would be at fault for submitting low numbers for his request.

“Yes! Finally!”, you pulled the sheet from its spot frantically.

Stepping over to his laptop, you searched the systems for the sheet when you had an even better idea. Turning back to the files, you failed to hear the door opening and closing, his light steps approaching you as you made a mess of his desk. He sat and watched you search through the papers with a smirk as he leaned against the wall across from you, your gaze laser focused on the things in-front of you. Finding the new page, you smirked, unknowing of the danger you had put yourself in.

“Curious, darling?”, his deep voice made your heart stop as his hand ghosted over your shoulder. He had managed to make it across the entire office to stand behind you and you hadn’t even noticed. That was a kind of embarrassing you never thought you’d feel. But here you were, feeling it and Taehyung’s hand as it crawled across your collarbone smoothly to wrap around your neck.

“Taehyu-”, you gasped before his hand tightened around your neck, cutting off your words.

“We’ve been at this for years. Years, Y/N. Isn’t it about time to accept that you’ll never best me at our pranks?”

You shook your head, hand wrapping around his as you turned in your spot to face him. His fluffy brown hair fell into his sharp eyes as he watched you take in the position. Your back against his desk, his hand around your neck, basically holding your own hand at the same time. He corralled you further into his desk, his free hand drawing distracting circles on your side as you watched him carefully.

“I’ll beat you this time. You won’t win.”

His laugh washed across your face, mint greeting your sense as he chewed on nothing with a confident smirk. You were sure you would beat him. You had to. It was one of your last motivations to not hand in your resignation and join Jeon Industries instead of staying under Min Corporations.

“You’ve already lost. So when will you notice how much I love you, darling?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, his hand leaving your neck to trace your cheekbone and run lightly over your parted lips.

“Wha-”, you cleared your throat of the shock blocking it, “What do you mean, Taehyung? You don’t love me. You’ve shown me so many times you hate me. You ripped up my presentation!”

He nodded casually, hand playing with a stray bundle of hair that had fallen from your messy ponytail during your search for revenge.

“I did. But we’ve been doing this for years. Do you not remember the times I would leave you notes in your locker in high school, telling you how I felt?”

“Those were anonymous, how was I supposed to know that was you?! I thought that was Hoseok! Or maybe even Seokjin… I- why?”

“What do you mean why? You’re perfect for me. I’m perfect for you. I read your diary when I was in your office that week. I know what you think of me.”, his breath tickled your ear as he leaned in to whisper his last secret to you.

“Why would you… That's supposed to be private!”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Y/N. I won’t tell anyone how much my voice turns you on… or how much you daydream about fucking me seven days a week and telling me you love me.”

Your face heated with a blush as he chuckled in your ear, his voice deepened further as he pushed his body against yours further. His hands guided you into comfort as he whispered random compliments into your ear, your eyes closing as you thought about it all.

“At least let me take you on a date. Just one for now, if you like it, leave your number on my desk the day after. If not, just tell me to fuck off and I’ll leave you alone until you accept your feelings towards me. Sounds fair?”

You nodded slowly, his hands circling you in a gentle hug as he hummed in content. It couldn’t be the worst thing in the world, a little harrowing at times you were sure, but overall it could be worth losing your revenge. So you melted into the hug with a sigh as he laughed about something in his head.

You’d see in the week after the incident that it really wasn’t that bad as he fed you sushi from his plate while you traded for pieces you liked and he didn’t. Sipping on boba while the sun set on the horizon over the clear blue waters of the beach afterwards. Maybe you didn’t get the promotion that would change your life, but marrying Kim Taehyung in the following years was definitely more than enough to make up for it all.

#reader insert #kookslastbutton #bts #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #office au #enemies to lovers #im so excited #i love the idea #send help #herarcadewasteland #fanfiction #fem!reader #so #i love you #yandere #yandere taehyung

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xoxiu · 2 years ago

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autumn outside the post office - jin x reader

chapter four table of contents masterlist join the taglist

≪ how long will beautiful things last? ≫

summary: it wasn't your fault that dr. kim was the most beautiful man you've ever seen. falling for him was entirely your fault, however. first semester at college and you're already dreaming of a student/professor relationship- so naughty and against the code of conduct. you like the thrill, though.

tags/warnings: smut, teacher!jin, college au, cute yet forbidden romance, daddy dom!jin, love triangles, frat boys jungkook and taehyung, age regression, age play, ddlg, spanking, eating disorders, mental health, first love, exhibitionism, lots of blowjobs, age gap

taglist: @severecatsheep

"Today we're going to be starting our first novel, Our Twisted Hero."

For once, you stared outside the window during literature class, looking at something other than Dr. Kim. You felt too guilty, uncomfortable, and dirty after what you did. He was your professor, and you kissed him.

And you liked it.

What made it all worse is that you wanted more. You wanted to be absolutely destroyed by this man, and then lovingly cuddled immediately after. You wanted him, nothing but him, and all of him.

"y/n?" A voice called out your name- it was Dr. Kim. You snapped out of your thoughts and turned your focus back on the class. Seokjin smiled as you did so.

"Thank you for rejoining us." You blushed out of embarrassment- you had been caught daydreaming.

The class continued with no other distractions. Still, you were in a dazed high from yesterday. Nothing felt real as you jotted down assignments in your planner. Just like that, you were distracted again. Little hearts covered the empty spaces of your planner as you mindlessly doodled on.

"y/n!" Dr. Kim scolded this time, slamming a book against the desk. You jumped in your seat, sitting up straight and giving your full attention to the professor. A blush heated your face as everyone turned to look at you.

"Since some of us don't want to pay attention, class is over now. Remember to have up to page 20 read and your study guide done for Monday." He looked back at you, solely addressing you, "y/n, I'd like to speak with you for a moment."

You slowly began to pack up your backpack as students filed out of the classroom. Dr. Kim made his way to the back of the class towards you, his eyes burning holes into you. He smirked as you kept your head down, refusing to look up at him.

"You really can't keep me off your mind, can you?" He teased, putting a finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. His stare soon turned cold again, "Look at me when I'm speaking to you, hun."

"Yes, sir," you blushed at the pet name. Looking down, you noticed a growing bulge in Seokjin's slacks.

"My eyes are up here, y/n." He gripped your chin forcefully. "See something you like?"

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Seokjin released your face and reached behind you to close the blinds. The room grew significantly darker, especially in the back where a fluorescent light above you had burnt out. Wetting your lips, you couldn't keep your eyes off the professor as he leaned against the back wall.

"Knees, now."

Without hesitation, you kneeled on the floor, shuffling closer so you were closer to Dr. Kim. He smiled down at you, running a hand through your hair. You leaned into the touch and closed your eyes.

"Such a good girl, so obedient for Daddy." Seokjin tugged at your hair, forcing a small gasp out of you. Your panties grew wetter from his words. Not a single thought was running through your mind except for Dr. Kim.

The man chuckled above you. "I'm not sure if you deserve this after not paying attention in class. Or was this exactly what you were thinking of?" All you could do was let out a pitiful whine, looking back and forth between his bulge and his face.

"Hmm? What's that? Not as brave as you were yesterday, huh?"

Kissing him felt like nothing; you had kissed guys before this. However, not once were you so close to another person's private area, teetering on the edge of sex. It felt exciting, yet intimidating.

"I-I don't know..." You mumbled, feeling a lot more shy and exposed. You looked away towards the door, anxious that someone may come in. Seokjin seemed to pick up on your worries.

"No one has this room reserved for another hour, don't worry. It's just us." Another hand ran through your hair, gently stroking it and placing a stray strand behind your ear.

You weren't ready for this. It felt wrong. As your eyes darted around the room, you anxiously bounced on your legs. Leading the professor on like this was a horrible thing to do, and for what? All you had was a little crush and now look at you, kneeling in front of your teacher with soaked panties as he palmed his hard-on.

"Maybe you're not ready for this cock, is that it?" You nodded your head, embarrassed tears glazing over your eyes. Your hands came up to cover your face from any more embarrassment or shame.

Seokjin picked you up and placed you on the table next to your bag. You moved your hands away from your face, allowing him to deeply kiss you. Kissing him felt so easy, and when he tugged gently on your bottom lip, you went crazy. Your hands wrapped around his broad shoulders, pulling him deeper. His tongue found its way into your mouth, and your eyes shot wide open. You pulled away from the kiss, not liking the feeling.

"What's wrong?" Dr. Kim asked, his face full of concern. Biting your lip, you stared at his beautiful, full lips, now tinted red.

"I don't like tongue," You felt ashamed to admit, "Sensory thing..."

He giggled at your bashfulness, placing a gentle peck on your lips.

"I'll try to remember that."

————

The Korean Cultural meeting took place in the library. You decided to skip your meeting at the last minute, deeming it pointless. Classes had been going well, better than well in fact, so you saw no point in attending.

As you approached, Dr. Kim sent you a smile. He pulled out an empty chair for you right next to him. All eyes were now on you. You tensed up as you took a seat, looking around the table with a wavering smile.

Jimin and Taehyung sat across from you, hyping up your arrival. 'There she is!' 'The party can start now!' 'As beautiful as ever!' You blushed at their cheers, desperately wanting them to just shut up. They were so nice and friendly, maybe a bit too much, but it always made you smile.

There were many people you didn't know. They stared at you with confusion, questioning who you were and why Jimin and Taehyung acted so excited to see you. At the end of the table sat Cara with another boy. She was all over him, her legs over his lap and arms embracing his neck, basically sitting on his lap. The boy looked mighty uncomfortable and tired until his eyes landed on you. He looked you up and down, smirking.

You couldn't help but notice his shirt with 'TKE' on it in giant letters. Oh, he was in Tau Kappa Epsilon with Taehyung. Upperclassmen had warned you about them, and how they were the unruly frat house constantly on the verge of being suspended from Greek life. Taehyung made you believe the rumors were all exaggerated lies, but one look at the boy across the table only confirmed the stereotypes. He looked like trouble.

By the time the meeting start time came around, roughly 16 students were in attendance. Once the table capacity was reached, Seokjin gave up his seat next to you, opting to stand between the tables the club was using. There was another professor you didn't recognize who lead the meeting, with Dr. Kim commenting every once in a while.

You felt eyes on you at all times. From the boy at your table to Dr. Kim, you knew you were being watched. You tried your best to ignore it, listening to the speaker, but you couldn't help but take quick glances.

The boy looked you over as if examining you closely. He looked impressed by you, making you feel small under his gaze. His eyes watched your every move, focusing a bit too much on your chest area, as if you were a theatre act. He didn't want to miss a moment of you.

Dr. Kim's eyes were softer, more welcoming. He looked almost proud of you for showing up tonight, thankful that you came. You didn't miss his wink as your eyes met, making you blush and quickly look away.

The meeting concluded sooner than you thought- only lasting a solid 15 minutes. A packet was passed out to everyone, detailing upcoming meetings, events, and a study abroad trip to Korea.

Led by Mr. Kim.

You were the last one remaining at the meeting, logging the meetings and events into your planner. A hand on your shoulder made you jump- you swore you were alone.

"Thank you for coming tonight," Dr. Kim looked down at you with a smile. Smiling back, you closed your planner, giving Seokjin your whole attention.

"I'm sorry about earlier," he said, looking genuinely remorseful.

"It's okay, you didn't know."

Seokjin checked the time on his watch. "I think the buses stopped for the day by now. Shall I drive you home?"

Flustered, you stammered out gibberish. You knew the buses hadn't stopped their routes yet, not until 10 pm. Dr. Kim was lying to you, trying to persuade you into getting into his car. Hesitation flooded your thoughts. You knew that if you got in his car, this relationship would cross the boundaries of a professional relationship. Leaving campus with a teacher was a major red flag. There would be no going back.

"Sure."

#bts fanfic #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #teacher/student #bts smut #college au #kim namjoon #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts #autumn outside the post office

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vminhoes · 4 months ago

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Printer jam

Someone in the office has been clogging the communal printer with useless documents, and Yoongi fully intends to find and confront the mystery printer fiend for his crimes of killing so many trees.

Things don’t exactly go according to plan when Yoongi ends up bent over his desk by said mystery printer fiend instead.

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justimajin · 1 year ago

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The Profit & Love Statement » Pt. 22

↠ Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

↠ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ 4k / CEO AU

↠ Summary: Through hours of endless training and hard work, Kim Seokjin is finally the CEO of Kim Electronics. He has everything at his hands - status, money, power. He owes it all to you, his rigid and sarcastic mentor who overseed his entire training. But as he steps into the shoes of becoming the CEO, he can only wonder what it means for your relationship now.

↠ Warnings: domestic yoongi, bts being chaotic

↠ A/N: This will be bit of a side chapter with the other characters!

↠ Next Update: Tuesday, November 28 (series masterpost here)

Yoongi's never looked worse.

He’s dressed in black baggy pants and a ruffled white t-shirt. His shoulders are bowed, deep eye bags lining his eyes and hair absolutely messy.

Hoseok speaks up about his haggard appearance.

“Hyung, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He states, as if it was a fact.

A low cry resonates through the home, and he sighs. “I’m not too sure about Haru though.”

Hoseok takes a step into the home, followed by Jungkook who trails behind and widely glances around.

“How’s Hana?” The younger man dwells.

“Tired – very tired.” He shuts the door behind the two of them.

Hoseok is utterly speechless.

Yoongi is incredibly systematic, whether it was consistently keeping his office organized or always having the same black coffee resting on his desk during work hours. His home is typically kept in the same fashion, contained within a small living room and kitchen, two bedrooms and one bathroom.

In summary, the man is very put together on normal days. But Hoseok can’t say the same for today.

The living room is littered with both baskets of laundry and several small children’s toys.

A young boy in a white shirt and blue overalls suddenly runs into the room. He stumbles straight into Yoongi, glancing up at him with bright cat-like eyes.

“Dad!”

Yoongi softly smiles, “Hi, buddy.”

Leaning down, he lifts him up into his arms and Hoseok pokes the boy’s cheek.

“Hi! It’s Uncle Hobi!” He giggles, a large gummy smile emerging on full display.

Jungkook glances at Yoongi astonished, “Hyung, he looks just like you.”

“It’s the Min genes.” He warmly retorts, gazing down at his son.

A new voice pitches in, exhaling with fatigue.

“Yoongi, she wants you– oh.”

The woman that emerges from the bedroom door appears to be in her early to mid thirties, dressed in sweatpants with a dark cardigan thrown over. Her light curly locks have been tightened up into a messy bun, lethargy evident in her sluggish expression.

The corner of her lip lifts.

“I didn’t know you guys were here already.”

“Hana!” Hoseok loudly exclaims, going in for a hug immediately. “It’s been too long.”

“It has been.” She grins, “I’ve heard that instead of going out on dates, you’ve been buying dead plants.”

Hoseok’s mouth drops wide open and Hana crosses her arms. “You know you have to take care of those, right?”

He glances at Yoongi, exasperated. The latter merely shrugs with a smile.

“If you’re not going to hear it from me, take it from her.”

Hoseok pouts and Jungkook shuffles over, smiling sheepishly.

“Hi, Noona.”

“Jungkook.” She greets, stepping forward to hug him. “Congrats on the new job.”

He smiles, “Thanks.”

She deeply exhales, “Thank you for coming here today guys. Normally, we’re okay, but…”

Her and Yoongi make eye contact, and he speaks up.

“We really need a day off.”

A sharp cry resonates through the room. Immediately, Yoongi reaches out, putting Yoonsun into Hana’s arms.

“I’ll go check on her.” He mumbles, before swiftly entering the second bedroom.

She sighs, “We’ll only be out for a couple of hours. This one is calmer,” She lifts Yoonsun with a smile, who giggles, “–much like his father, I believe. But Haru has been having trouble with falling asleep on schedule.”

Hoseok nods, leaning down to set his bag aside. He glances at Jungkook with confidence.

“I think we’ve got this.”

Hana nods, stuffing her hand into her pocket. She takes out a sheet of paper with scribbles on it as Yoonsun plays with her hair.

“Here’s a list of everything you need to keep in mind.” She explains, “Don’t hesitate to call either me or Yoongi if you need anything.”

“Where are you going, Noona?” Jungkook wonders, a sly tone to his voice.

A giant grin stretches on her lips.

“Well, my husband’s promised me a nice and quiet dinner, but–” She leans forward, as if she was telling a secret. “I plan on getting absolutely wasted and dragging him down to karaoke.”

Jungkook chuckles and her eyes crinkle.

“Maybe wait for your husband to leave before revealing all your plans.” Yoongi strolls up behind her, a two-year-old girl settled in his arms.

The corner of Hana’s lip lifts, “As if you would say no to me.”

Yoongi scoffs and she snickers, before putting Yoonsun down onto the ground and kneeling to his small height.

“They’re going to be looking after you for a while.” She whispers, softly ruffling his hair, “Be on your best behaviour, okay?”

The boy eagerly nods. “Is Dad going too?”

“Dad has to go.” Yoongi mentions, handing Haru to Jungkook, “Otherwise Mom might come after him for not taking her out.”

She gyrates around, sending a playful glare in his direction. Yoongi simply grins.

***

After a moment had passed, Hana and Yoongi had proceeded to get dressed for the night.

Hoseok let out a low whistle once Yoongi had emerged, dressed in a perfectly ironed out dress shirt and black shacks, clean-shaven and hair parted to the side. He had mumbled something along the lines of wanting to look nice for his wife, to which Hoseok had grinned at. Hana had been waiting for him by the door, dressed in a deep jade green dress and slipping on a pair of stilettos.

She had looped her arm around his, departing with Yoongi and he reiterated to call if they needed anything. Hoseok had opened the door for them, whisking them away and wishing them a good time.

It had been a few moments since their leave.

“Alright then,” Hoseok spins around, “How much do you know about taking care of kids?”

Jungkook shrugs, “Not much, just what Yoongi hyung has told me about them.”

“Okay…” He ponders, “I’m sure it’ll be alright. They're just kids, after all.”

A huge optimistic grin surfaces on him, “How hard could it be?”

The sound of a harsh cry breaks them out of their thoughts.

They both whirl around at the same, noticing that Yoonsun was situated on the carpet of the living room, occupied with building some toy blocks. The sound comes again, this time radiating from the second bedroom.

Hoseok and Jungkook burst into Haru’s room.

The two-year-old shakes on the small bed, having observed the absence of her parents.

Hoseok scoops her up, cradling her. “There, there, Uncle Hobi is here~”

She grabs a fistful of his hair, “Ouch.”

“Maybe she’s hungry?” Jungkook suggests, turning around. Hoseok follows behind him into the kitchen, attempting to break out of the little girl's strong hold.

“The list said she can eat cut up fruits and veggies.”

“Fruits and vegetables…” Jungkook is scanning the fridge, astonishment crossing him at the way the shelves are all carefully organized, with everything having a place. “Wow.”

Hoseok chuckles, “That’s Yoongi for you.”

Haru wiggles in Hoseok’s grasp, excited fingers pointing towards the apples in one section. Jungkook laughs at her actions, taking them onto the counter.

He quickly peels one, cutting it into the small slices.

“Here comes the airplane~” He motions the apple around. Haru flails her arms around and nearly jumps out of Hoseok’s lap.

She grabs it immediately, chewing on it with puffed out cheeks.

“She’s too cute.” Hoseok states, looking down at her as if she can answer, “How did you come from Yoongi?”

“Between the two of us, I personally think she has to be all Hana.” Jungkook points out.

Hoseok chuckles, glancing around.

“Say – where’s Yoonsun?”

A frown mars Jungkook’s lips, before his eyes widen at seeing the toy blocks abandoned.

“He was right here.” He states, quickly filtering through the two bedrooms. To his dismay, he can’t find the young boy and panic starts to arise within him.

The bathroom door creaks out and Yoonsun stands outside of it, blinking at Jungkook's frantic form.

“Oh, thank god.” Jungkook holds onto his hand.

But Yoonsun stares at him with large eyes.

“Where’s Dad?”

“Your Dad went out with your Mom for a while.” He explains.

His eyes well up without warning, and before Jungkook can say anything–

Yoonsun bursts into tears.

Jungkook scrambles to hold him in his arms, attempting to rock him back and forth. But he doesn’t consider that Yoonsun is older than Haru by three years, picking up on Yoongi’s absence far more.

“Hoseok hyung.” He bursts into the kitchen, “I-I don’t know what to do.”

“Speak for yourself.” Hoseok deeply sighs.

Jungkook’s irises round, noticing Hoseok holding up the little girl in his arms with a tinged mixture of apple all over his clothes.

“Okay, I get that, but–” You huff, annoyed. “Hoseok, stop crying for one second.”

The statement earns you strange and concern glances from nearby shoppers. You wince, reminding yourself to keep your voice down.

You were situated in front of a handful of changing rooms, seated on a cushioned bench with your phone in hand.

Your day had been going good, until well, this phone call.

“You just need to clean up and wait,” You explain, “Don’t feed her right away.”

Hoseok continues to bombard you with questions, and you hear somewhat of a shriek come from the background.

“Was that Jungkook?”

“N-No!” He hurriedly responds, but then you hear a ‘I lost him again!’ and it’s a dead giveaway.

The curtains in front of you pull back and Jin emerges out, dressed in a tailored black suit. He smiles in your direction, but frowns upon noticing the hints of distress in your expression.

He points to your phone and you sigh lightly, gesturing that you’ll tell him afterwards.

Instead, he decides to draw your attention to the suit he dons, spinning around. Your mouth twists, and you shake your head, finding it far too similar to the suits he wears to work.

Glancing around, you survey the various suits and land on a particular dark blue one. Eyeing light up, you arise from your seat, placing it against him and nodding enthusiastically.

He chuckles at your reaction, heading back into the changing room.

You plop back onto your cushion, alarmed from the silence. “Hoseok?”

“Sorry, still here!” He nearly yells, cutting off your hearing, “There’s just a lot going on.”

“Will you guys be okay?” You softly question.

“We’ll be fine!” Hoseok reassures, despite you clearly hearing Jungkook’s voice in the background. “I’m going to just call Taehyung over. He loves kids!”

“Doesn’t mean he knows how to take care of them.” You retort, glancing at your watch. “Look, if I leave in a couple of minutes, I can be there soon.”

“No, no! You were supposed to go out with Jin and–”

“Tell me honestly, Hoseok.” You state, “Do you have the situation under control?”

“Well–”

“Y/N, please come over.” Jungkook’s voice blares through, and you presume he yanked the phone from Hoseok’s grasp, “Don’t listen to him, we could use the help.”

You hear Hoseok in the background let out a small ‘Hey!’ before there’s more crying and his voice disappears completely.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there.” Jungkook mutters a quick thank you before the line cuts off and Jin emerges from the changing room.

“Well?”

The dark blue looks incredible on him, contrasting nicely with his brown hair. It’s fancier than the previous suit, and adds a mature air around him.

“It looks nice.” You softly smile, getting up instantly.

“Looks like this one’s the winner then.” He grins, eyes glancing at the phone in your hands, “Trouble in paradise?”

You let out a drawn out sigh, a grimace crossing you.

“I might have some bad news…”

Taehyung pulls a silly face for the infinite time.

Hoseok scoffs, “I told you that’s not going to work!”

“It always does!” Taehyung protests, attempting to pull another peekaboo one – to which Haru cries even more.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, glancing at the man near the foyer who’s currently in the midst of taking off his coat and shoes.

There’s remorse in his eyes, “Sorry for dragging you into this.”

Jimin’s eyes light up and he shakes his head. “It’s okay, we were just at the movies and the film was close to its end.”

He gestures to Taehyung, who continues with his antics. Jungkook softly smiles at the thought of the two of them spending time together, musing that they’ve grown close.

“May I?” Jimin asks, gesturing to the attached boy in Jungkook's arms. Jungkook places him down and Jimin kneels, fondly smiling.

“Hi there, my name is Jimin.”

“I’m Yoonsun.” The boy stares at him, sniffling a bit, “Do you know where my Dad is?”

“He’s out right now, but I have a picture of him.” Jimin reaches for his phone, displaying a selfie he took with Yoongi at karaoke.

Yoonsun’s eyes are wide and he curiously shuffles over to Jimin, staring at the screen in fascination.

Jungkook watches in disbelief, “How did you know to…?”

“I look after my nieces often.” He mentions, bringing Yoonsun into his lap for a better view of the phone.

Jungkook nods, sitting down with them and scrolling through his phone for any pictures of Yoongi. But he pauses himself, glancing over at Hoseok struggling and Taehyung, who hadn’t been much help.

He mulls over if he should just call Yoongi and Hana at this point. It was his absolute last resort, not wanting to probe and let them enjoy their evening together.

There’s a loud knock on the door.

He gets up, eyes twinkling at the inkling of who it might possibly be. Twisting the lock, you stand before him, taking in the chaos of the home.

The apartment is a mess – belongings and different children's toys scattered everywhere. You find the two children quite swiftly, Haru being with Hoseok and Taehyung, her small eyes red as they horribly attempt to get her to smile. Jungkook and Jimin are on the ground with Yoonsun, who seems glued to a brightly lit phone in Jimin’s hands.

Every single person’s head spins at your entrance and you are thoroughly shocked.

“Y/N!” Jungkook gets up in relief and Hoseok practically tackles you.

“You came!” Hoseok screeches.

“What happened in here?”

There’s a second voice behind you, and everyone turns to see Jin step inside the home, his irises as wide as your own as he scans the area.

“Jin?” Jungkook cocks his head to the side, not quite expecting him to appear.

You shrug, “I thought it’d be helpful if we both came over.”

“Where do we even begin?” Jin ponders, shrugging off his coat and shoes instantly. You follow his gestures, not quite having an answer.

“Anywhere, honestly.” Jungkook states, letting out a deep exhale.

You take your collective belongings and set them aside. Jin proceeds to step over the toys on the ground, picking up things along the way. You observe as he scolds Taehyung at the same time, telling him to leave his things in one place rather than scattering them.

Jungkook glances at you amused from the display.

You grin, “What’d I tell you?”

You take long strides towards Haru, just as Jin gestures to Jungkook and Jimin to move over to the couch. Picking her up immediately, you carefully sway her and step into the bedroom.

Haru’s eyelids begin to flutter close, a small yawn leaving her lips.

Hoseok blinks, wondering if a miracle just occurred before him.

“How were you able to do that?!”

“I was just rocking her back and forth.” You lift her up and place her into his arms. “It’s a soothing motion that can help with sleep.”

Hoseok hums, cautiously trying to repeat what you had done. Sure enough, Haru holds onto him, another low yawn leaving her lips.

Hoseok looks up in astonishment and you smile.

“That is amazing!”

“Right?” You gesture for him to lie her down, “It was something I did often with Yuna and she would fall asleep right away.”

Hoseok nods, watching over her with a bright smile. You quietly peer out of the bedroom, noticing Yoonsun with Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung. The living room appears considerably better, with toys no longer scattered everywhere in a disarray.

You find Jin in the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?”

He turns, occupied with grabbing packets of ramen noodles from one of Yoongi's cupboards.

“Just heat up some water for me.”

You hum, moving to grab a pot. Taehyung shows up as you’re filling it up, glancing at the two of you.

“Hey, do you guys–” He freezes, gaze landing straight at you in front of the stove. “Wait, Y/N….You’re not cooking, right…?”

A nervous laugh leaves him and you swivel around with a frown. “And if I was?”

Taehyung immediately holds his stomach. “You know what? On second thought, everything here seems to be under control so maybe it’s best I go hom—”

“I’m not cooking!” You proclaim, ignoring how Jin’s attempting to stifle his laughter.

“Really?” Taehyung looks at you bright-eyed and you huff.

“Who’s not cooking?” Jungkook pokes his head in, raising a playful brow.

Taehyung chimes in. “Y/N isn’t!”

“Oh, thank god.” Jungkook whispers, but you still catch it and glare at him. “I-I mean, your cooking has such…such interesting taste–”

“Save it.” You retort, turning to Taehyung. “What did you need in the first place?”

His eyes widen, “Oh, strange request, but do either of you have pictures of Yoongi?”

Before you can say anything, Jin takes out his phone. “It depends. I have a couple I took while he was training me, but they’re mainly me trying to be cute and Yoongi being annoyed.”

Your mouth drops open. “You got pictures of him while training?”

He cheekily nods and you watch as he presents the pictures to all of you. The majority of them are of him throwing up peace signs or smiling, with Yoongi in the background either deadpanning or grimacing.

“Damn, he’s really got just one expression.” Jungkook retorts as Taehyung claps his hands in satisfaction.

“Okay! I think these can work.” Jin nods, following behind him into the living room.

You watch as he leans down to Yoonsun.

“Look,” He whispers with a grin, “It’s your Dad who loves me very much~”

A laugh escapes you as Yoonsun takes Jin’s phone in fascination.

Yoongi is as bewildered as ever.

Firstly, his wife is drunk out of her mind. Yes, she’s still able to stand and mutter coherent words here and there, but she pretends like she needs him around, latching onto his arm and not letting go. Yoongi doesn’t mind, watching over her carefully and even letting her drag him into a karaoke room after dinner, to where she proceeds to sing old cheesy romantic songs to serenade him.

She’s cute – he knows. There was a reason why he mustered up all his energy in saving up for a ring, proposing to her underneath a starry night with the cool breeze of fall after one of their many dinner dates together. Hana hadn’t skipped a beat in saying yes, taking his hand ever since that day. Their two children had been like a blessing to him and throughout all the hardships, he considers himself lucky to have her as his wife.

The second reason for his confusion…has nothing to do with his date at all. He checks his phone a couple of times, surprised to see no new messages and calls. Although he had trusted Hoseok and Jungkook with his children, he’s aware of their lack of experience with them and half-expected a frantic call at any time during the evening. But he’s greeted with no notifications.

It’s odd, but he shakes it off, wondering if he perhaps misjudged the situation. It’s true that his first instinct was to have asked you, but considering you had mentioned to him that you were looking forward to going out with Jin over the weekend, he had decided against it.

After all, who but him to understand wanting to spend time with your significant other.

He reaches the door to his house, puzzlement crossing him.

“What is it?” Hana mumbles against his shoulder, her hands still tightly wrapped around her husband’s arm.

“It’s too quiet.” He whispers, eyes darting around.

Were the kids asleep? Were Hoseok and Jungkook okay?

Putting his keys in, he twists the lock and enters with Hana.

To be fair, he wasn’t too sure what to expect at that point, but he’d be lying if he wasn’t utterly shocked.

Everything’s clean – down to the stacked laundry baskets on the side and the absence of littered toys and blankets around the living room. The kitchen’s clean too, bags of garbage long removed and a handful of dishes, including several pots and bowls, scrubbed and left to dry by the sink.

The first person he finds is Taehyung, who’s snoring loudly on his couch. Next to him sits Jimin, who’s leaning against the foot of the couch with his eyes closed.

Jin is there as well – asleep like the others, but his phone is in his hand and within his arms is Yoongi's son, whose eyes are softly shut.

He hears light footsteps, eyes widening to see you emerge out of the bedroom.

“Oh, hi.” You whisper.

“Y/N!” Hana excitedly throws herself onto you, and you quickly catch her with a warm chuckle.

“Long time no see, Hana.”

She sheepishly grins at you and Yoongi’s eyes flicker around.

“What are you doing here?” He questions, “And where’s Hoseok and Jungkook?”

“They left about an hour ago.” You bring them over to the kitchen, so as to not disturb everyone’s slumber. “They weren’t in the best condition.”

Yoongi leans against the counter, “Was it that bad?”

You grimace. “Define bad.”

He looks at you intently, “Did Hoseok cry?”

“A little–” You chuckle, “He mostly was exhausted, and left looking like he hadn’t slept in a week. Jungkook on the other hand, was okay and calmed down after eating Jin’s ramen.”

“Well, sounds like they had a fun night.” Hana snorts and Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head.

You smile and shrug, “They tried their best.”

“And you?”

“Both Taehyung and I came when Hoseok called us in panic. Jimin was with Taehyung and Jin was with me.”

“Oh, so that’s Jin?” Hana widely smirks, pointing to his sleeping form.

You grow flustered at the observation, “Yeah, that’s him.”

She has a silly smile on her lips and Yoongi slowly walks over, picking up Yoonsun from Jin’s arms.

“Dad?” He sleepily mumbles, and Yoongi grins.

“We’re back.” He whispers, “Were you being good?”

He tiredly nods and Yoongi hugs his son, softly caressing his head.

Hana warmly smiles, “Haru’s asleep by the way, it’s been a couple of hours.”

Her head spins around. “You got her to sleep?”

You hum, “I can show you what we did.”

“Thank you, Y/N.” She holds onto your hands, “We weren’t expecting you to come, but I’m glad you did.”

“Of course.” You reassure, “Thankfully, I wasn’t alone.”

She childishly grins, peeking at Jin from the corner of the eye. “You know, I do have a word of advice for you.”

You lean down and she whispers in your ear.

“With men like that, you’ve got to put a ring on it fast.”

Her words only result in a deep flush spreading across your cheeks. She mischievously laughs, directing her fond gaze over to Yoongi smiling down at Yoonsun.

49 notes · View notes

jeonstudios · 4 months ago

Text

dextrocardia | 15

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: 6k

warnings: self-esteem issues, feelings

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 15/?

The ride home lasts ten minutes, during which you’re holding back tears the entire time. It’s only when you’re finally inside your own apartment that you let them fall. It doesn’t help to see Fenrir’s collar and leash hanging next to your jackets, or his bowls still on the floor. In a way, it feels like you’re back at square one.

You know you promised Jeongguk you’d call Jihyo, but you don’t, knowing she’d disapprove of you being on your own probably just as much as he does. Still, realizing that sooner or later you’ll need to either get back to work or find another job, you send her a text, asking if there’s any case for you to work on remotely until you’re ready to return fully.

The first night back is emotional, but you’re relieved to finally be home.

“I don’t think it matters how hard you throw it,” a worried Jimin watches Jeongguk hurl a dart at the dartboard. “Actually, I’m pretty sure you’d see better results if you didn’t throw it like an Olympic javelin thrower.”

Jeongguk doesn’t reply, just rolls his eyes and grabs another dart. The music around them is surprisingly quiet, drowned out by the chatter of the bustling bar.

“So, care to tell me what’s up with him?” Jin asks, nodding toward Jeongguk as he sets the three pints of beer on the table and takes a seat.

“His little lady left him,” Jimin explains sadly, sliding one of the pints closer to Jeongguk.

“Oh. Why? You weren’t a couple, were you?” Jin asks.

“No,” is all Jeongguk mutters before he heads over to the dartboard to retrieve the darts. He has three of them, but only one actually hit the board; the other two embarrassingly stuck to the wood-paneled wall. From the marks already there, he’s at least not the first terrible dart-thrower. When he returns to the table with all the darts in hand, he pushes his designated pint back toward Jimin. “Can’t drink.”

Jimin meets his eyes, looking defeated. Jeongguk already explained that when you’re not with him, he can’t risk being drunk in case you need him. If you called, saying Hoseong had found you, Jeongguk would not hesitate to get on his bike or in his car, no matter how much he’s had to drink, and driving under the influence is something he’d rather avoid.

“She’s scared of me,” he repeats what you told him a few nights ago. Hearing the words from his own mouth stings less, but his heart still aches and his blood boils. He throws another dart but misses the board, and it sticks to the wall a few inches left of it.

“Wait. What do you mean?” Jin asks, confusion written all over his face.

“Yeah. Although I’m pretty sure she hasn’t ruled out that I’ll just snap one day and kill her, she’s mostly scared that I’ll want to hurt her emotionally.”

“But why would you? I thought you two were doing alright? I mean, she’s been living with you for, what, the last month?”

“We were. Or at least, I thought so. She kissed me, and we were… getting closer, but I guess it freaked her out.”

“Why?”

“Remember how I told you I was horrible to her before I found out what Hoseong had done? Yeah, the things I said… they were inhumane.”

“What did you say?”

Jeongguk throws another dart, swinging his arm and using way too much force. “What haven’t I said? I’ve told her that she’s too ugly for me to look at, that she needs to stop eating, that she’s incompetent, and that she basically deserved being trafficked if only the traffickers would take her. That’s the short version.”

“Fuck, man,” Jimin breathes in disbelief. Jeongguk told him what happened ages ago but not explicitly what he’d said to you.

“Yeah. I just… I wanted her to hurt, to pay for what I thought she’d done, but she never seemed affected. I’d call her something, and she’d flip me off or glare at me or call me an idiot or whatever, but she never… I thought she didn’t care, so the next time I saw her, I said something worse. But I wouldn’t have, obviously, if I… If I… knew.”

Jin puts his glass down, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “I mean, I haven’t met her, but isn’t she, like, objectively very pretty? From what I’ve heard?”

“Yeah, she is,” Jeongguk sighs. “Which is also why I didn’t think she’d take it to heart, ‘cause what I said isn’t true in the slightest.”

“But can’t she see how pathetically in love you are? No offense,” Jimin asks. “I mean, I take it you’ve apologized and probably told her what you really think? She doesn’t trust that?”

Jeongguk falls silent as he retrieves the darts again, shamefully avoiding eye contact with his friends on his way back.

“Wait, you haven’t apologized?”

“Of course I have,” he argues before lowering his voice. “I just kinda… fucked it up.”

He feels the confused stares of his friends. “I’ve apologized many, many times for how I treated her, and she seemed to kinda accept that? But I never explicitly apologized for the things I said. Nor have I told her how I actually feel about her.”

He sees how Jimin is about to tell him exactly what he thinks about that, but Jeongguk cuts him off before he's able to.

“After I somehow convinced her to stay with me, I thought carefully about how to act around her. I thought that it would be better to apologize for… everything. I thought ‘I’m sorry for how I treated you’ would cover it. And I didn’t want her to second-guess my intentions, so I didn’t actually tell her what I really think.”

“You mean ‘second-guess your intentions’ as in…” Jin trails off.

“As in think that I chose to help her because I was interested in her. I didn’t want her to think I had an agenda or to feel like she’d owe me in any way. She hasn’t had the best experience with men—men in law enforcement, especially—so I wanted to be as… safe, I guess, as possible for her. I didn’t realize she was still thinking about it, taking what I said as the truth.”

Jimin sighs. “So she thinks you might still consider her the ugliest creature to walk the earth is what you’re saying?”

“Apparently. I tried to convince her before she left, but of course, it didn’t seem genuine. I don’t blame her.”

A bit more optimistic, Jin tilts his head. “You don’t think she’ll believe you if you just tell her exactly what you just told us?”

But Jeongguk lets his shoulders slump. “I don’t think so. She told me I scare her because I have a desire to hurt anyone who wrongs me, and she doesn’t feel like she can read me. And I believe her. I wanted to hurt her, and during the mission, I had to pretend to love her when I really didn’t, so I kept switching up on her.”

The atmosphere shifts from frustrated and sad to just sad as Jeongguk runs his thumb over the dart in his hand.

“I lose either way. If I tell her that what I said back then was true, then I think she’s ugly, and I wanted to hurt her by saying so. But if I say that I lied and that she’s really the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, then I still wanted to hurt her. And after everything she’s been through, she doesn’t want a man with a desire to hurt.”

“But like you said, you didn’t mean to hurt her to that point, more so to be taken down a notch? And it got out of hand?”

“Is there a difference? I’ve hurt her, probably beyond what is salvageable, and she thinks I’m still capable of that; that if we disagree on something, I might turn on her.”

With a deep breath, you pull open the doors to the police station one chilly Monday morning, the sky outside gray and heavy with the threat of snow. It’s been three weeks since you came home, and though Jihyo put up a fight, she eventually agreed to let you stay.

Since months have passed, and you still haven’t caught Hoseong and his crew, you figure you might as well try to get back to normal. So you started planning your return to work, but then Christmas came, which you spent at your mother’s, two hours away.

Jihyo also agreed not to tell Jeongguk about your living arrangements, per your desperate request. You’d rather not deal with his savior complex, and you know he’d park outside your building if he thought you were in danger. You scoff to yourself, but almost immediately, guilt settles in. A savior complex isn’t why he’s worried about you; he’s just a good guy. You know that. Still, you don’t want him to know.

Walking through the station at nine a.m.—on your way to Jihyo’s office to discuss your new assignment—you almost hold your breath. Some officers glance your way, still not used to seeing you back, and maybe even less used to seeing you without Jeongguk. Or maybe they know you had a “falling out?” Would he tell anyone here? Jihyo, maybe, if she didn’t already know, but you’re not sure if he’d tell anyone else; his closest friends besides Jimin don’t work at this station anyway. And Jimin probably wouldn’t gossip about you either.

Jihyo is waiting for you when you reach the door to her office, calling out for you to come in as soon as you knock.

“Hey,” you say, closing the door behind you.

“Hey. Want a donut?” she asks from behind her desk, happily pointing to the open box, a half-eaten donut in hand and what you assume is part of the other half in her mouth.

“Nah, I’m good,” you grin, sitting down in front of her.

“Alright,” she says, swallowing and wiping some crumbs from her lap. “So, I’ve been looking over your request and proposed methods.”

You watch as she pulls her laptop in front of her, setting the donut down on the table, and starts scrolling.

“And I’d say it’s very reasonable if we’re okay with the risks.”

“I don’t think there are any risks at all, actually,” you argue softly. “We parted on good terms.”

“Yeah, I know. And they played a part in your survival. But I’m still gonna need to have a risk analysis performed. Who would you want to go with you? I could assign Sana, I think, if you want her? She’s on an assignment right now, but we’re hoping they’ll be done by Wednesday, give or take.”

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m glad to see you back and wanting to work on what matters to you. I know the chief—ex-chief—did his best to be a pain in the ass for you.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait until the investigation’s finished, honestly. He deserves to rot in jail.”

“Agreed. I haven’t heard anything else from the higher-ups, so they’re probably still elbow-deep in it. Anyway, if you have any details you’d like to show me, I’m all ears.”

Your smile grows, and you reach into your bag for your laptop and notebook.

“Thanks,” you smile, standing up an hour later with your bag in hand. But before you exit her office and close the door behind you, you glance back at Jihyo. “By the way, I’m so glad you got the job. You deserve it more than anyone.”

“Thank you. It’s been… rough, these last couple of months. A lot to do and a lot of stress and pressure, but I think it’s worth it. And I’ve had help, making it easier for me to adjust.”

You know who she’s talking about; you don’t need to hear a name.

“He asks about you, you know.”

Holding onto the door, you look away. You’re well aware of what Jeongguk has done for not only you but also Jihyo, Sana, and the entire police station.

“Let me avoid him for at least another month. Then you can tell him whatever you want, and I can try to be a better colleague. But now? I can’t… I don’t…”

Jihyo looks at you, seeing the pain well up in your eyes when you think about the reason you left his house that night. If you can just have another month to force the warm, yet invalid and hurt feelings you have for him back into the box they broke out of when you first kissed him, you can try to be more civil with him. Hell, you’ll even work with him if he can keep it professional as well.

Jihyo nods, sad but understanding. After all, she had a front-row seat when he used to tear you bloody.

For another hour, you sit at an empty desk, excitedly looking over the preliminary plan that starts on Thursday. You can’t believe it’s about to actually become reality.

Step one:

Preliminary timeframe: Thursday.

Possible obstacles and risks: Low risk of hostility or danger.

Safety measures: Two detectives, civilian clothes, civilian car, concealed firearms.

Step two: Plan A or B, depending on what you find, if anything.

With your notes full of prepared questions, you rise from the chair, deeming it time to leave the station for the day. As you stand there, organizing your papers, movement catches your eye, and you look up just in time to see Jimin enter the big room. And of course, who does he have in tow if not Jeon Jeongguk, dressed, like so often, in the academy's navy crewneck and uniform pants?

Meeting both of their eyes, you’re saved by your phone’s ringtone, a sound that seems to stop even Jeongguk from taking an impulsive step toward you.

Fishing the phone out from the pocket of your black pants, you swipe your finger across the screen to answer. It’s Sana.

“Hello?”

“Hey! So I talked to Jihyo, and she said that your request got pre-approved? I’m a little busy at the moment and for the next few days, but send me anything you’d like me to look over in preparation.”

“So you’re up for it?” you ask, a wide smile forming. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Jeongguk reluctantly follow Jimin further into the room, where they start talking to two other officers with their backs turned. If you were more of a hopeless romantic instead of a realistic one, you’d describe the glances he sends your way as… yearning. To avoid his gaze, you focus on the notebook lying on the desk.

“Of course! You and me, just like old times.”

“Old times? It’s only been like a year since we worked on a case together.”

“You know what I mean. Anyway, I gotta go. See you.”

“I’ll send the info tonight. See you.”

Discreetly, you end the call and gather your things, quickly but quietly heading for the exit. But in the corridor, you hear a call of your name. You shut your eyes for a second before turning around. It hurts to see him, to walk these halls, avoiding him just like you used to. Only this time, it’s a different kind of pain.

The shame creeps in at the same rate Jeongguk approaches. It’s the same shame for how he sees you, but also for how you’ve reacted. You can barely look at him, yet you’re ashamed for not giving him a chance, even though he’s the one who made the bed he’s now tossing and turning in. He's so handsome, looking so warm and strong as he approaches, his black hair looking soft, shiny and just a little longer than last time. A part of you wishes he’d close his eyes so that you could throw your arms around his neck and breathe him in.

“Can you please leave me alone for a while?” is what you ask instead, clutching your notebook to your chest.

Now standing right before you, he looks down at you with sad, desperate eyes. “I’ll be quick, I promise. Two minutes is all I need.”

You’re not sure why, because you’re not an immature person, but you press your lips together, trying to suppress a smile. Noticing the shift in your expression, Jeongguk thinks back to what he said, smiling as well. “I set that one up pretty well, didn’t I?”

You turn your head, trying to stifle the smile, but you find that it fades easier than expected.

“And you think I’d wanna fuck that?” he snaps, eyeing your body with disgust.

Your gaze locks on the lower part of the wall. You wish someone would lend you the cloak of invisibility so that you could hide yourself from him and the world.

“Look at me,” he instructs, but you don’t. The more you think about his eyes on your body, the more you want to leave.

“Look. At me,” he repeats, firmer this time but still without sounding angry.

So you do.

“I get it if you don’t want anything else to do with me, but I can’t have you walking around, believing what I said is true.”

Although you don’t cry, you reluctantly let him see just how hurt you are.

“You were right. I wanted to hurt you. I said those things because I was angry, and I wanted just… some kind of justice. When you instead seemed so… unfazed, I let it get the best of me, and somewhere along the way, I lost myself. But I was wrong and although I wanted payback, I didn’t mean to hurt you to this degree. I was only looking for a reaction, anything that showed me that you were paying for what I thought you’d done. If I’d known how I really made you feel, regardless of if you were innocent or not, I would’ve stopped.“

“So you’re just a man, after all?” you ask, and maybe it’s uncalled for, maybe it’s not.

Jeongguk takes half a step back, appearing lost for words, and with enough pain in his surprised eyes for you to think he looks hurt.

He blinks and lowers his voice. “Yeah. Just a man. But listen to me—the things I said were. Not. True. Okay? You hear me? I cannot let you go around thinking you’re anything like what I told you.”

“I find that hard to believe. How else would you know exactly where to hit? What to say to cause maximum damage? Talking about my cellulite and my… weight and…”

“I said what I figured any woman would be scared to hear.”

“Yeah, sure,” you dismiss.

It doesn’t matter what he says now—he did know exactly what to say, which means he must have looked at you, inspected your body and found every single one of your flaws. It makes you nauseous, as if some of those flaws didn’t exist to the world simply because no one other than you had noticed or mentioned them. Then Jeongguk and his friends scrutinized every inch of you, uncovering them all and putting them on display.

“I think you’re gorgeous.”

“You would’ve told me.”

You really think he would have. The Jeongguk who wants you to sleep in his bed, holding you from behind, who asks to hold your hand, and who puts frosting on your lips as an excuse to kiss them—he would have told you if he liked you. If he thought you were beautiful.

“I didn’t. I thought–incredibly dumbly–that if I told you what I really think of you, you’d think I was hitting on you. If things were different, if we ran into each other somewhere without all this… baggage, I would’ve hit on you, but all I wanted at the time was for you to trust me as a friend and to trust that I just wanted you to be safe. I didn’t want you to think I was looking to get laid or that I would… that I was anything like Hoseong. I didn’t know that you took my bullshit to heart—because again, it’s just not true—and so I chose not to say anything.”

“But we’ve been past that point for a while, haven’t we?” you ask, finding his explanation a little too weak to believe. “I trusted you enough to tell you about the worst moment of my life, I kissed you, and I told you how pretty I think you are, yet you couldn’t even…”

Frustration boils in your veins, mixing with the raw disappointment and hurt which cools you back down. You feel so… small, so defeated. “I don’t need compliments. Just… something. Something that would’ve shown me you weren’t being sweet only because you felt guilty.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know what to say to that. In retrospect, yeah, he should’ve told you, and thinking back to his joke about pretty being for girls makes him cringe with both shame and regret. Especially since he’d used multiple occasions to taunt you with the fact that you’re not a pretty girl. But it had been hard, finding a balance in showing his affection without scaring you off. When you reacted the way you did that night during the power outage, he... didn’t want to risk making you more uncomfortable or afraid. He’d decided to take a step back, let you lead, and he would follow. Of course, that backfired horribly.

You look at him, hurt still brimming in your eyes.

He searches for words, trying to explain himself better. “I should’ve told you, but I… I didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable. I wanted to follow your lead and let you decide everything. You wanted me handcuffed and blindfolded—of course I realized you were nervous. But I thought you were more worried I’d do something to you, rather than what I would think of you. I didn’t want to influence you to do anything you would’ve regretted.”

You’re clearly not convinced, and you shake your head slowly.

“You could’ve just given me a ‘you too.’ That’s all I would’ve needed.”

Jeongguk can only watch as you leave, obviously still very much hurt by him. Ten seconds after your footsteps have disappeared, he heads back to the desk area, his head hung low.

Jimin looks at him, JJ and Min gone. The unasked question hangs in the air, and Jeongguk can see Jimin realize that no, it didn’t go very well.

“You gotta remember that she’s had a hectic few months and maybe wasn’t really able to process everything. You being an ass was probably the least of her worries for a while—until it wasn’t anymore. And healing isn’t always linear. I’m sure she’ll come around one day.”

Jeongguk sighs. “I don’t think she will, and I can’t expect that of her. I just… hate myself for what I did to her. I never even realized she was just walking around, bleeding from my words.”

You haven’t fixed your car since the last tampering, but fortunately, Jihyo agreed to lend you one of the station’s unmarked cars. A discreet black thing that you park outside the station at ten a.m. on Thursday to pick up Sana, who needed to retrieve some things and told you to meet her there.

Getting no reply, you lock your phone and step out of the car with a sigh. The ground is powdered white, your shoes leaving tracks as you walk up to the station’s main entrance.

Warm air envelops you as you step inside, the doors falling shut behind you.

“Good morning!” Sana rushes over, a coffee in hand. “Sorry, I’ll be done in a minute, I just gotta ask Mark something.”

She gestures for you to follow, and you do, trailing behind her into the sea of desks. The place is unusually crowded with officers, so you decide to wait near the wall, leaving her to weasel her way into the middle on her own.

There usually aren’t this many people here when you’re around, but in your case, the problem isn’t necessarily people; it’s big, strong, law enforcement men. Though they’re not paying you much attention—they must be preparing for something big—you still can’t will your body to fully relax.

By instinct, you tug at your clothes, wishing you hadn’t left your jacket in the car. Since you decided to wear civilian clothes today, you thought you might as well dress somewhat according to your original mission’s dress code. Except adjusted for winter, of course.

You’re wearing winter boots that reach your upper calves, a pair of those invisibly fleece-lined pantyhose you’ve seen all over social media the last few months, and a cream-colored knitted turtleneck dress. It’s been in your closet forever, but unfortunately, you didn’t try it on before you had to leave.

It feels too tight on your body. Not to wear into a ‘strangely religious neighborhood,’ but too tight to wear here. You pull at the hem where it ends at your mid-thigh, keeping your eyes down when people pass you and hoping no one is looking at you and taking note of how awkwardly shaped your body is.

You stand there for a while, avoiding people’s eyes while you wait for Sana.

However, when you—out of the corner of your eye—notice a uniformed man walking toward you, you look up. Jeongguk’s eyes flicker between you and the people walking past you, as if he’s seen exactly the shameful way you carry yourself around men—these men—nowadays. It’s gotten worse since you left his house; you know that, but when all of your confidence was fueled by anger and then denial, removing those leaves… not much left.

He comes to stand in front of you, looking down at you with frustrated eyes. He’s so broad, so imposing, and it’s very evident when he wears his navy uniform, the sleeves rolled up his veiny forearms.

“Listen to me—”

You look away, about to step back, but he grasps your hand—not just to stop you but to guide the two of you a few steps away from the path of officers and behind the tall panels of a cubicle.

“No. Listen to me. I’ll leave you alone after this if that’s what you want, but I need you to know that you are so incredibly beautiful.”

You sigh, looking at him and wordlessly begging him to just give up already. He’s quiet for a few long seconds, his frustration seemingly growing.

When he speaks again, his voice is calm, more earnest. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

“No,” you shake your head. You can’t recall the very first time you met him.

“I do. It was a rainy day—my fourth at the station—and I ran into you at the main entrance. The rain had wet your hair, and I held the door open for you. You thanked me, but you didn’t really smile much, just politely. I think you also bowed your head slightly. I remember thinking that you must’ve been cold from the rain, but I realize you were wary around the men here, even if you and I didn’t know each other.”

Sounds about right.

“And I thought that you were just so beautiful.”

You look down. It’s humiliating, and you feel like shit, hearing him throw compliments your way just to make you feel better. You can’t tell if he’s lying or not, but what else would he say? You can’t exactly say you expected him to approach you today to call you ugly.

Noticing your hesitation, he appears to be searching his mind for something, and you glance at him.

Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly, and he reaches into the pocket of his navy uniform pants. It’s his phone that he pulls out, and he starts to scroll. He scrolls, and he scrolls, until he finally finds what he’s looking for.

“Look,” he says, handing you the phone.

Although you’re not too keen on entertaining whatever this is, you can’t help but be a little curious. What could he have on his phone that would convince you?

Accepting the device, you start reading the words on the screen. They’re text messages from an old group chat, dated years back, and though you can’t remember the exact date Jeongguk first showed up at the station, you assume it was right around then. The chat seems to have consisted mostly of him, Ryung, Hoseong, Seunghwan, and Junseo.

Seunghwan: Yeah, we’re excited to have you, just let us know if you need anything.

The next few texts are from the following day.

Jeongguk: So I just met the most gorgeous woman I think I’ve ever seen??

Jeongguk: Quick question, is there a work dating policy here? I can’t remember.

Jeongguk: And if not, where do I find this woman again? Is she an officer? I’m not even kidding when I say that I’m absolutely head over heels from a three-second interaction, and she didn’t even really say anything.

Jeongguk: I’d love to ask her out.

Ryung: If it’s who I think it is then you better stay away, man.

You read on, seeing how Ryung goes on to describe a woman’s features, which happen to align with yours. The length, color, and style of your hair, the color of your eyes, and your height. But also a very generous way of describing your face and the shape of your body.

Jeongguk: Yeah! Is she with one of you already? In that case, I apologize!

Ryung: No, but Hoseong did her briefly, and she’s absolutely mental. Pretty, but crazy

The next words are not very nice, the men urging Jeongguk to stay away from the woman who could only ever be you, promising to tell him what happened the day after.

“See,” Jeongguk says, “Even Ryung knew exactly who I meant; I didn’t even have to describe you, just say that you were the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.”

You’re not sure. Yeah, the evidence points to that, and you can’t deny that you’re definitely feeling some form of relief, but… you can still hear his voice in your ears, see the anger and hatred in his dark eyes.

You hand the phone back, and Jeongguk looks around, sighing before turning his attention back to you. “You want me to be completely honest? Tell you exactly what I think of you?”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “No? That’s the point? I know that I’m not your type. I’m full of flaws. I don’t have a body fat percentage in the negatives like you, I don’t always have the energy to shave every inch of my body, and I’ve never gotten flowers. No matter what you say now, I’m not someone you want.”

“You think I’m someone who would care about any of that?” he asks, his voice tinged with hurt.

“You look like someone who would.”

Jeongguk looks away, taking a second to gather his thoughts.

“I… wanted to ask you out that day, after I first met you. You looked so pretty out there in the rain, and I think my heart stopped for a while. I think that you’re cute—really fucking adorable—and charming, and you’re smart and kind, and you’re absolutely breath-taking and sexy as hell.

"Which was another reason I was so angry at you; I saw this… stunning woman, who appeared to live a very privileged life, yelling ‘sexism’ whenever something didn’t go your way to… I don’t know, avoid consequences and get ahead, not realizing what sexism truly meant for other women. I didn’t think there was that much harm in what I said because I thought you knew very well how goddamn pretty you are, so I gripped at every straw, trying to get a reaction.”

You listen to every word he says, still unable to decide. You want to believe him, but the deep wounds he carved into your skin are still bleeding.

“I was so conflicted during our mission. On one hand, I had to pretend to like the person who had shot one of my best friends, who got away with it and refused to be held accountable for it. On the other hand… I liked seeing you pretend to like me too. First, out of spite, but then I realized that I liked seeing you smile, and how nice you were to the people around you, except for me, of course, but I guess I always started it. Then you fell asleep in my arms at the barbeque, and I knew I was fucked. I felt like I betrayed my friends for… feeling something other than hatred for you.

“But this little thing, that hated me so much, let herself be so vulnerable as to sleep in my arms. And I guess I looked at you differently after that. The more I realized that you might actually be a pretty decent detective; a decent person, the harder it was for me to be mean to you. After everything, and after I’d found out what had happened, I wanted to tell you how much I liked you and how pretty I thought you were, but I was scared you wouldn’t come with me if I did. I was scared they’d look for you at your apartment, so I kept quiet.

“Even after you came to stay with me, and it seemed like you started to trust me, even just a little bit, I had to convince myself to wait. And the more I got to know you, the harder it became. Do you have any idea how much I wanted to bury you in flowers? Hold you and kiss you silly? And you know why I was always up before you—or at least I tried to be—when you slept in my bed with me?”

You shake your head because you don’t know.

There's something else in his eyes when he holds your gaze, “Because I dream about you, and I wake up hard. But I remembered how I freaked you out when we made out back at the house, when you were on my lap and I got hard. I didn’t want to scare you or make you uncomfortable, so I made sure to wake up before you, just in case.

“I wanted to kiss you and hold you and really, it would’ve been my pleasure if you’d wanted to sleep with me. But more than that, I wanted you to be safe and feel safe, never doubting why I was doing what I was.”

He shuts his eyes for a short moment. “I guess that’s all I can say. I don’t need you to forgive me, I just need you to know that all I wanted was revenge; nothing of what I said was true.”

He opens his eyes again, looking into yours with his soft, brown ones and a gentle sincerity. Though it’s overshadowed by something else. “I have many regrets, but you are my biggest. What I did to you.”

Regret.

As if she’s been waiting for the right moment to make her return, you hear Sana call your name. When you turn around, you spot her approaching.

“I gotta go,” you excuse yourself.

Sana looks between you and Jeongguk, but when no one says anything, she shrugs and turns her attention to you. “So, Jihyo said you had a problem with your apartment? The door, was it? Cause I can call my brother, and he’ll fix it for free next week if you want?”

“You’re living in your apartment? On your own?” Jeongguk questions, his voice upset.

You turn back at him, “Yeah. Have been since I left your house. It’s fine.”

Despite the clear worry his eyes display, he makes no effort to follow you and talk you straight, probably realizing that there’s nothing else he can do; that was his last chance.

<previous | next> author's note: so there's that! thanks for waiting for it <3 this was the last puzzle piece of their past, i think, and i'd love to hear your thoughts on everything, but especially him lol <3<3

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mister0ctopus · 1 month ago

Text

Server Room (3)

mini series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary: Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series, Smut, Romance

Word Count: 3.7K

🐙 a/n: contains a flashback to jungkook's first day/week

🐙 Masterlist / AskMeeeee!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

Whoever invented a five-day workweek deserves severe punishment.

You mean it.

Even though you did absolutely nothing over the weekend—just slept, rewatched Love, Death & Robots, and rotted in bed—it was perfect.

How on earth that yesterday you were just eating ice cream straight from the tub, slouching on the couch, and now you're analyzing graphs?

You shake your head, letting out a sigh as you resign yourself to the fate of selling your soul to the corporation.

You’ve been typing and clicking away all morning, your laser focus burning holes in your screen. A new project for a VIP client needs to be completed by the end of the week, and if you win them over, it could open doors to even bigger opportunities.

You pinch your temples, feeling the pressure. This is huge. This week is going to be hectic.

Hours of drafting a detailed report have left a strain in your shoulders, a reminder that you're due for a quick stretch. You straighten your back and, out of the corner of your eye, catch a familiar figure strolling past your desk at an unhurried pace, colorful tattoos standing out like quiet acts of defiance against the pristine, orderly office walls.

The faint scent of clean laundry and vanilla lingers in the air, and you close your eyes momentarily, trying to savor whatever trace of it remains.

Jungkook likes vanilla. Noted.

Your heart starts cartwheels at the sudden realization of your thoughts. As memories of last Friday flood your mind—thoughts you had tried to drown over the weekend—it hits you.

Are you... crushing on Jungkook?

You groan at the thought distracting you, though you're not complaining—you need a distraction. This project is already draining you. There's still so much to do, and you feel like you're on borrowed time. Your eyes start to water, and you seriously need a break.

Deciding to take a quick coffee break, you head to the pantry. As you wait for your coffee to brew, you notice that all the mugs are stored neatly on the top shelf of the cabinet.

Perfect. Of course, they’re all the way up there.

You try tiptoeing to reach it, but it's too far back, and your right arm starts to strain. Wouldn't it be funny if Jungkook walked in right now to help? It would perfectly complete your cliché K-drama fantasies.

You waver, giggling softly to yourself, when suddenly, you feel a warm, firm presence behind you. An inked arm reaches past yours for the same cup you've been struggling to grab.

A familiar scent envelops you, and your body jerks slightly when the back of your head brushes against his chest.

And just like that, with such ease, he offered you the mug. But neither of you moved, both still rooted in place.

You stayed like that for a good four seconds, though it felt like forever.

You glance to both sides, hesitantly searching for an exit as your heart does a herkie. Before you know it, he steps aside, allowing a large space for you to turn around and face him.

"Uh… thanks!” you say quickly, hiding your nerves behind a smile, but your ears betray you. You feel them warm up as Jungkook tucks both hands into his pockets. But before he does, you catch a glimpse of the growing bulge in his gray slacks.

Lord, grant this child of yours with mercy, strength, and grace, for the journey they face is no small feat.

Thankfully, you hear the coffee machine finish brewing, and you quickly turn to pour your coffee. Jungkook heads to the water dispenser, and the two of you move in silence.

Except it’s not quiet. It is loud.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, after a while, his voice low, but soft as he waited for the water to fill.

You turned your head toward him, stirring your coffee. “I’m good! Thank you.”

“Hmmm." He nodded. “How was your weekend?”

“It was good! Just rested and stuff. You?” You smiled, while your heart was doing somersaults.

He smiled back—that smile, the one that made his tiny dimples pop. “Yeah, good. Nothing too crazy, just… chores, stuff.” He said, his gaze shifting back and forth between you and the floor.

Cute.

As if on cue, you both started walking back to your desks. The walk was quiet, but you could feel his shoulders brush against yours every now and then. Before you could even form a whole cheerleading routine inside your heart, you reached your desk and gave him a polite nod before sitting down.

You typed bdhjhfjjketwrjnkngkngn on your computer all the while watching his back in your peripherals.

You see you phone lights up. You swipe to open your group chat.

Jimin: break? Tae: let me circle back to you Jimin: stfu Allie: lets goooo! I need to pee! You: cant! i have a deadline! 😩 Jimin: ☹️ Tae: u suck Tae: we'll get u snacks You: yaaayyyy Yoongi: Seen

Tae was true to his word. They really did bring you snacks. It made you feel better, fueling you with the energy you needed to type away like a maniac until 6 pm. It’s a little later than usual, but you hadn’t even noticed the time.

Spent and drained, you closed your laptop and gathered your things. There’s still a lot to do, but at least you managed to finish 20% of it today. That’s a good start, right?

The floor is quiet. Most people, except for a few chasing deadlines, have already gone home. You can’t wait to join them.

You make your way to the elevator, your brain starting to shut down, with your one last remaining brain cell holding it together, doing its hardest to get you home safely.

You don’t normally bring your car to work unless you’re in the mood to walk. The parking lot assigned to you is too far from the building—very inconvenient, but the spots are randomly assigned. So, you usually take a cab to be dropped off right at the entrance.

You press your manicured nails to your temples, trying to massage away the stress of the day.

When you see an empty elevator, you quickly hop in. But as the doors begin to close, a hand slips between them, halting their motion. You widen your eyes, not expecting to see Jungkook here this late.

"Sorry. Thanks!" he says, catching his breath. He obviously ran to catch this elevator—but why would he, when there are six in the building?

"Hey. It’s late,” you say, stating the obvious, trying to fill the silence in the small space. “Overtime?” After all, 45 floors could take a little while.

“You could say that,” he replies, a small smirk tugging at his lips as his eyes meet yours. You feel your skin warm up. “You? Overtime?” he asks back, turning his gaze back to the elevator buttons.

“Yeah, you could say that.” You smile as you lean against the elevator rail.

He chuckles—a low, amused sound—while absentmindedly playing with his lip ring.

You focus your gaze on the numbers ahead as they light up with each floor you pass.

On the 20th floor, a usually busy one since it’s an event space, the elevator opens to the sound of commotion. You see uniformed kitchen staff and waiters scrambling about. The elevator quickly fills with them, and others try to squeeze in, stepping out only when the elevator beeps with the overload warning.

You begin to panic.

You attempt to move to the corner, but bump into someone. Trying to adjust, you move to the other side—only to bump into Jungkook. You glance at each other, his face is unreadable, but his brows are slightly furrowed. The chatter grows louder, and you can feel the frantic energy in the air.

Your heartbeat quickens, and the voices around you fill your ears like a huge swell of waves.

No please, not here. Not now.

You close your eyes, attempting to minimize your overwhelming senses. Then, as if the universe heard your silent plea, you feel a warm, gentle hand on your back, softly patting you. You sigh in relief, as the space around you slowly seems to expand, your focus shifting entirely to the touch.

Jungkook seems to take your response as permission, his hand resting more securely now as he moves it in a steady, soothing rhythm. You focus on the gentle motion, counting down from 10 to 1, drawing in slow breaths through your nose and releasing them softly through your mouth.

When you hear the ding, you feel the nerves finally release as people begin spilling out of the enclosed space.

Jungkook’s hand lingers on your back, it stops moving, but it remains firm and comforting.

With a wave of relief and gratitude, you tug on his shirt and lean into his chest. There is a slight space between you, but your forehead rests against him, seeking refuge.

And slowly, his arms wrap around your shaky frame, and you breathe in his warmth. Then, you let out a deep sigh, releasing the tension that could’ve spiraled into something worse.

You stay like that for what feels like four seconds, but it seems to stretch into forever, before stepping off the lift.

"Are you driving?" he asked as you both walked towards the exit of the huge building.

You shake your head. "I usually take a cab instead."

“Let me drive you home," he offered softly, but his voice is firm.

You take a small step back and lift your head to him, though your hand still clings to the hem of his shirt. "No, you’ve already done so much. I don’t even know how you always manage to find me in these… situations. I’m sorry. And thank you,” you say as you pull away.

"It’s okay. I want to,” he speaks gently, his gaze shifting to your hand still holding onto his shirt.

You realize what you're doing and quickly drop your hand, letting go of his shirt, feeling embarrassed. "Sorry," is all you can whisper.

You hate feeling like a burden. You take pride in having your shit together, and the thought of others feeling sorry for you only makes it worse. Right now, you feel small and helpless. The attacks have been happening more frequently, and you can’t help but connect them to the mounting stress at work.

Jungkook sighs, looking at you while nibbling the bottom of his lip, as if he's trying to hold back the words he wants to say, but doesn't.

"YN, I don't want to overstep, and I have a feeling that you might feel like you're burdening me, but you're not. I want to help you, right now, by driving you home. Please, just… let me. It’s just driving you home. It's no big deal."

You blink.

Wow, that was the longest sentence you’ve ever heard from Jungkook. You looked at him, and you couldn’t help it. A burst of laughter escaped from you.

He looked at you with amusement, cocking his head, eyebrows furrowed. "You laughing?"

“No,” you tried to say, choking on another laugh. “It’s just… that’s the most words I’ve ever heard you say to me.”

His smile turns into a grin, and you catch him biting his bottom lip, like he’s trying to suppress a bigger smile. "You’re enjoying this, huh?"

"So much," you say between bursts of laughter, your stomach starting to ache. "You should talk to me more. This is gold.”

He raises an eyebrow, a lopsided grin at his lips. “So you could laugh?”

"Well, yeah." you reply, catching your breathe.

"You can’t handle me chatty." He shakes his head, not leaving his gaze on you

"Are you kidding? You'd be cute!” you say while wiping your teary eyes.

“Cute, huh” he said, his eyes still locked on yours, nibbling the silver ring on his lip.

You tilt your head, trying to read his face. There is mischief in his eyes, yet his lips remain pressed, guarding whatever thoughts lie behind them... What is he thinking right now?

"Let's drive you home. I know you’ve been tired," he interrupts your thoughts, sensing your visible curiosity. His voice is soft, but why does it feels like there’s no room for you to argue?

You followed him to his car, parked conveniently close to the building.

It feels oddly familiar now, as if you’ve been doing this for a long time. As if you’ve sat in this car together before, and he knows the way to your house like the back of his hand. As if each turn as natural to him as breathing. The car ride is calm—the hum of the engine, the distant noise of the world outside, the soft song on the radio…

“Take my heaven 'Cause you ain't inside it If that's your delight Come ruin my vibe…”

“Here’s your desk,” Yoongi said, motioning toward the chaotic workstation. “The guy you’re replacing was a huge Marvel fan—thus, the Wanda and Black Widow posters. You can take it down unless, of course, you fuck with it.”

Jungkook leaned in, tilting his head like he was analyzing priceless art. “I mean… Black Widow does have a chokehold on me.”

Yoongi snorted. “Of course. I already toured you around, pointed out the important stuff—and oh, you still need your logins. I’ll handle that,” Yoongi said, talking more to himself, like he was ticking boxes off a mental checklist.

It was Jungkook’s first day, and the only reason he even applied was because Yoongi casually dangled the words "better pay" and "more vacation days" in front of him, making him hand in his two-week notice without a second thought. Yoongi and Jin had been friends with Jungkook’s older brother since college, so as the youngest, he’d been dragged into their chaos since he was a kid. Fishing trips, sleepovers, summer vacations...

“Oh yeah,” Yoongi added. “I also need to give you the passcode to the server room. Can’t have you locked out.”

Jungkook nodded solemnly. “Got it. Server room. Sacred ground. No funny business. Unless…” He leaned in conspiratorially. “There’s snacks in there?”

Yoongi blinked. “Did you lie on your resume? Those are racks, not vending machines. So no, no snacks in the server room.”

“Missed opportunity,” Jungkook said, sighing. “But hey, so far, I like it here. Cool place, cool people, chill boss—wait. Do I call you boss now?”

“Try daddy and buy me lunch every day,” Yoongi replied, his signature lopsided grin making an appearance.

Jungkook dramatically furrowed his brows. “You have a daddy kink?!”

“Depends on the lunch,” Yoongi deadpanned, not even glancing up.

“Creep. I’m telling Joon.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Yoongi shrugged, picking up a ringing phone. “Your brother has a daddy kink too.”

Jungkook choked on air. “What the fuck, hyung?! I’m traumatized!”

Yoongi ignored him, calmly taking the call and nodding a few times before hanging up. He turned back to Jungkook, completely unfazed. “Now, for your first ticket— a jammed printer.”

“A printer? A jammed printer?” Jungkook groaned, swirling on the chair. “Wow. I’m really living the IT dream here.”

Yoongi stared at him for a long moment. “Was that your big ‘I can’t wait to be an asset to the company’ speech from the interview?”

Jungkook snickered, kicking his feet up on the desk. “Relax, hyung. I’m here to work hard and make you proud.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Hard? You’ve been here twenty minutes, and your biggest accomplishment is discovering the chair spins.”

“It spins really well, though,” Jungkook said, giving it another whirl.

"Printer. Fix. Now..." Yoongi muttered, still unfazed, typing away on his computer.

“Okay, time to turn it off and on,” Jungkook said, standing up with a mock sigh. “I swear, you just hired me to boss around.”

Yoongi smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned back. “Welcome to the team, kid.”

Black stiletto heels and stockings—that was the first thing Jungkook noticed when he saw you while fixing that damn printer.

The way they clung to your legs… Jesus. His thoughts immediately derailed.

You were wearing a blue-striped collared shirt, a couple of buttons undone, paired with a high-waisted black mini skirt that seemed to look better on his bed.

He just stood there, staring like an idiot, mouth agape, helpless.

You were lost in your own world, typing away on your laptop, and it was strange how captivating it was—the way your brow furrowed in concentration, how you nibbled on your lips like your thoughts were more important than anything else.

Every now and then, he caught a faint hum escaping your lips, like a quiet melody only you knew, a way to soothe yourself while the world spun around you.

The world could be burning around you—people spilling coffee, slamming their desks in frustration—but you were completely untouched, locked in your own zone. Your eyes were fixed on your laptop, brows furrowed in concentration, as if the entire universe revolved around whatever you were typing.

You looked so beautiful.

And the men? Yeah, he saw them too.

The glances they exchanged when you passed. Jungkook could spot them—those quiet, knowing looks shared between them. Their gazes lingering a little too long when you passed, the subtle shifts in their posture. Jungkook knew exactly what those looks meant.

But you were oblivious. You walked like you owned the place. Or like you had somewhere important to be.

Or maybe you knew. You just didn’t care to entertain any of them.

You carried yourself with calm confidence. The space around you was always yours, and everyone knew it. It made people hesitate to cross, like they knew better than to fuck around, because they’d already found out.

Then, in one of those hectic days, a few minutes after work, he saw you through the glass door, standing in front of the elevator. Every time it opened, you'd check inside, but never step in. Instead, you lingered there, taking your time, waiting…

But for what? Or who?

Jungkook couldn’t help but watch, curious. What was it?

Did you not want to be around anyone? Are you avoiding people?

Either way, he watched you for a solid 20 minutes, trying to figure you out.

The next day, he found himself next to you again while fixing some cables.

And there you were—black turtleneck, gray A-line skirt…black stockings and stilettos—of course.

And dark red lipstick—fuck.

God, those fingers. Those delicate, red nails gliding over the keys…

Shut up, Jungkook. You should focus on…you should focus on...

But he couldn’t focus, could he? How could he, when you were right beside him, completely lost in your own world, while he was fighting for his dear life?

Lord... just lead me to temptation, I’m halfway there anyway.

For more than a week now, you’ve been doing this to him.

Every time he closes his eyes, you’re there—on your knees, your delicate hands wrapped firmly around his cock, your lips smudged and slick as they stretch around him.

Your mascara runs in streaks down your cheeks, your eyes watering but still locked on his with that same sharp focus that drives him insane.

Or it’s his face between your legs, your wet folds clenching around his tongue, clawing for him, writhing helplessly, utterly drunk on lust. He’d give you the world and more.

Every time, the same thought crosses his mind: How do you sound when you moan?

Are you loud and unabashed, or do you bite back your cries, leaving him desperate to drag them out of you? The thought alone makes him groan like a tortured man.

Because torture—that’s it. That’s the word. That’s exactly what the past week has felt like.

Torture to contain the thirst, the hunger, the need. And every night, he finds himself completely at your mercy—with his eyes closed and fist around his cock.

That’s been his hell for over a week now.

Then, without warning, you—the object of his desire and the reason for his torment—appear right in front of him, asking for his help with those piercing eyes. He doesn’t know what to do. His brain short-circuits.

As he takes your laptop from you, his gaze briefly flickers to the poster of Black Widow on his wall, his silent, nonjudgmental protector.

Black Widow, patroness of the weak and frail, deliver me from this powerful force—for the adversary is beyond my strength to overcome.

He’s already figured out what’s wrong with your laptop, but your presence fills his senses, muddling his thoughts.

He can’t stand you watching him, observing his every move. It’s unbearable, as if you’re silently chastising him.

“I’ll try my best. You can come back later before you head home,” he tried to sound calm, keeping his back turned to you.

For the next few hours, he drowns himself in distractions—in prayers and IT tickets.

But it seems he cannot escape hell unless he seeks absolution.

Yet, there is no absolution without confession. So, he searches for a place of penance but finds only the cold, dark depths of the server room.

Amid the hum of machines and the sterile air, he calls out in a silent, desperate plea:

“Please, please, please…”

His heart slams against his chest, each beat resounding louder as your name falls from his lips, over and over. Each syllable becomes a tremor, each word a prayer offered from a soul teetering on the edge of redemption.

Sweat rolls down his forehead, falling like droplets of guilt onto his sinful fist and punishing hand.

Just as he’s on the verge of liberation, his eyes catch the sight of your black stockings clinging to your legs, stiletto heels gleaming like unholy beacons in the dim light. It’s as though you’re waiting for him to hear his confession only so he can sin again.

Like a demon lurking in the shadows, waiting to feast upon him again.

With a shaking breath and furrowed brows, he finally breaks, spilling out every ounce of the sin within him.

Yet he remains in hell.

🐙 a/n: sooo...how are we? 🫠 thank you so much for being here, i appreciate all of you 😘 please let me know whatchuthink of the story so far. i love each and every interactions with you 🥹 thanks again for reading and i love you aaaaaalllll ❤️

🐙 if you have questions or asks, let me know in the comments or send me an ask!

Taglist: @taekritimin123, @vantelover1306, @random-musingsss @likewtaf @jeonmaleficent @almatiarau, @kxthx-b, @lively-potter, @jk-190811, @ilovejungkook9999, @goldietigers294, @dreamyluna18, @va1-erie, @snow-strawberry, @lovieku, @daskewl @jksusawife @daskewl @pp0810

🐙 Let me know in the comments if you want to be added! 😘

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we-be-writing-bts-stuff · 2 years ago

Text

Thank you so much for requesting this love. I absolutely loved writing this. It morphed into an office au, co-worker au, and a dash of unrequited love. I'm a sucker for only one bed and enemies to lovers. I hope you enjoy!

~Bagel

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Word count: 1011

“What the actual hell?” You say as you walk into the hotel room. “There’s supposed to be two beds.” You continue to complain as the single queen sized bed sits in the middle of the room. You were on a business trip with your least favorite co-worker and while you knew that the company would cheap out and only get one room, you never thought they would only get one bed as well.

“It was probably a mistake on the hotel’s end. There’s no way that the company would purposefully make us share a bed.” Namjoon says. He looked about as tired as you felt.

"Nuh-uh. I'm going to talk to the front desk. There has to be a way to fix this." You say. Turning to leave the room before a hand wraps around your wrist to stop you.

"Stop being a hot head and get in the bed. It's 1 am and we've been traveling all day." Namjoon says. Looking over at you. "If it bothers you that bad, I can sleep in the chair or something."

"You're not sleeping in the chair. You'll fuck up your back and then the presentation tomorrow is gonna suck. And then my ass is on the line if shit hits the fan." You quickly respond. "I can sleep in the chair I guess."

"Or we can be adults and just sleep in the bed on opposite sides. We're here for one night and I promise that I'm not going to do anything. We just need some sleep and get to the meeting tomorrow." He says. As much as you didn't want to do this, he had a point. You were both adults and you had no reason to think he would try something during the night. You were both exhausted from traveling and while he got on your nerves and questioned every little thing you did in the office, he was nothing but a gentleman in every other aspect.

"Fine. Fine, we can share the bed. I'm taking the side closest to the window." You tell him. Walking over and depositing your bag on your claimed part of the bed.

You make quick work of hanging up your clothes that were necessary for the meeting and gathering your things for your nighttime routine.

Besides a few snippy comments from both parties, you both got through your routines and ended up in the bed. This was when you began to question whether this was a good decision or not. Facing away from him and towards the window, you move even farther away until you are barely on the bed.

A groan from behind you making you freeze. “Stop moving and try to sleep.” Namjoon hisses.

“Sorry.” You whisper out. Finally closing your eyes and forcing yourself to relax.

-----

The sun hitting your eyes is the first thing you notice as you start to wake. The next is the comforting warmth draped against your back and the weight of an arm over your waist. In your half asleep state, you turn towards the warmth. Your face hides in it and you feel sleep start to tug at your consciousness again. Hands reaching out to grab whatever was making you feel so good. You find purchase on some fabric and hear a soft groan. The arm tightening around you and your legs tangling with others.

Hearing the alarm is when your mind fully begins to wake. Your eyes slowly open and the first thing you see is a gray shirt. It's soft under your fingers and the chest underneath is firm and toned from what you can feel. A grunt pulls you from your reverie and your gaze moves up to the face of the person you were cuddling with.

It's like a bucket of ice water was thrown on you when you register the face of your bed partner. You let out a squeak and push hard against Namjoon. Nearly pushing the man off the bed in your rush to get away from him. Scrambling to the other side of the bed.

“What the hell?!” Namjoon growls out. His voice deep and rough from sleep. His hand reaching over for the alarm that started to turn it off. “What was that for?”

“You, me. Cuddling.” You start to babble off random words that were popping into your head as you gesture wildly between the two of you. Namjoon only looking more confused from your explanation.

“Take a deep breath and relax.” He says. Interrupting your rambling and rubbing at his face. “Once you can speak in full sentences, explain what happened.”

You roll your eyes at his tone but follow what he said. Taking those calming breaths and think about what you wanted to say. If you even want to tell him still at this point. You shake your head and roll your eyes once you calm down.

“Nah. I don’t think I want to anymore.” You tell him. Pushing off the covers to get up and start your day. Rushing to get to the bathroom and shower before he can.

“You’re insufferable.” He mutters. Just loud enough for you to hear him before you close the door behind you. Blush dusting your cheeks as you think of cuddling with the man just in the other room.

While he would never tell you, he was awake far before you were and knew what was happening. Seeing you so content in his arms and sleeping so soundly pulled at his heartstrings. It felt natural, almost right, to have you so close to him. His heart was still pounding in his chest, those feelings he pushed down for so long resurfacing with wild abandon.

“Get it together Namjoon. You have a long day ahead.” He softly says once he could hear the water running. Getting out of the bed to get his clothing together for after his shower once you were done. The two of you chose to ignore what happened for the rest of the day even though you both couldn’t think of anything else.

#reader x namjoon #kim namjoon #bts namjoon #enemies to lovers #bts fluff #office au #one bed trope #bts requests #bts drabble

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lo1k-diamonds · 4 months ago

Text

Stellar Behavior 💜 Part 4

“Justice just never sleeps.”

PAIRING: Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader

SUMMARY: Yoongi makes a decision and gives up on the nicotine gum.

WORD COUNT: 6.8k

GENRE: Gangster AU, Law AU, enemies to lovers, smut

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: corruption, explosions, fire, blood, threats, arguing, handjob, blowjob, riding

A.N. It's so hard to pick a favorite part, but I think this one might be it... Again, infinite thank yous to @moonleeai for helping me around the clock and being an incredible beta! Enjoy 🔥🔥

Yoongi sighed as he made his way inside his office, dismissing his secretary when she tried to pass him a pile of files waiting for his review. It was the end of another exhausting Friday, and although he appreciated her commitment, she should have long gone home to her family instead of wasting time on this.

Closing the door behind him, he started a sequence of ceremonial steps: he took off his coat and hung it up, loosened his tie, grabbed more nicotine gum from his drawer, and then sat down, chewing it with a long sigh. The wall behind him had his many decorations, including the latest that landed him there.

Working with you was seamless and smooth, and justice was swiftly served. Not only was he able to recover the agent’s body and bring him home with honors, but the dismantling of the whole operation was a huge success. It gave him honors, medals, a ceremony with Seoul’s Mayor, and lastly, a promotion he didn’t even want.

He heaved a deep breath; he couldn’t say he loved being Superintendent General. He preferred to be hands-on with the cases he and his team worked on, but he had moved too far up: he made decisions, but was too high in rank to see any of them carried out. He had more responsibilities and dreadful meetings that were more about competition between police agencies and politics than what actually mattered. And so for months, he’d been tolerating the bullcrap from all ends — from fellow Superintendent Generals and their chiefs from all over the country, including his boss, politicians, and Senior Superintendents complaining about the workload and the lack of resources as if he wasn’t in that position himself just months prior. It was exhausting and slow, and he kept asking himself what was the point.

But just like any other night, his ritual wasn’t complete if he didn’t open his locked drawer and pulled out a file with your name. Despite being frustrated and sometimes disgusted by the people in positions of power with so little consideration for the workforce or the people they served, there was nothing he could do. Instead, every night, he stared at your file and asked himself what he should do.

That night was engraved into his brain: you made a deal, he relapsed and asked you to let him eat you out, then proceeded to get so lost in you, that he didn’t even recognize himself. But then, you left him alone in your office, and that was when he saw those files.

He had managed to take photos of a few of them before leaving and had since printed them and worked on them. So he knew what they contained – details of money laundering. They depicted monumental amounts, to the likes that he was surprised even existed, but maybe he was just too naive. There were mostly coded names on those files, so he knew you were handling it for others and not just for yourself. It probably ran much deeper than a few bars or the drugs you were now distributing, safely, like you promised.

And that was the issue, wasn’t it? He groaned with himself, settling his face inside his hands. He used to see things as black and white, but the more time passed, the more he realized there was no such thing. Politicians, among other officials, ran the show, and he knew things were happening behind closed doors. You were as bad if not worse than the people you had helped him put away, but you kept your word: you gave him evidence to exonerate Officer Jimin, an alternative to bring the Klysa conglomerate down without ruining the lives of thousands of people, and gave him the address where he could find the agent’s body, not to mention crucial names that once picked, dismantled the net of dealers quite nicely.

So why was he after you? Were you the lesser evil? Were those exceptions to your usual criminal and selfish deeds? Or were you just deceiving him by pretending to play nice?

He didn’t know how you knew so much, but now he knew you laundered money, and he had evidence. Evidence he couldn’t use without disclosing how close he had gotten to you and risking discrediting himself. Evidence that could get him a warrant, even under heavy scrutiny. He could try to bring you down, even if it meant letting his career implode. His former self would have, but now he was hesitating, convincing himself every night that he should pursue this. If those documents existed, then his instincts about you were right all along and other evidence was out there, too. It was just business; you would throw him under the bus if it suited you, too. Right?

He heaved a deep breath and closed the file, deciding to bring it home and muse over it there this time around. The office was empty, and it was a lonesome way until he reached his car in the underground parking lot. He hated not seeing the liveliness of a police station anymore, but that was where he was now.

His phone rang through the car speakers as he drove, and he picked it up at the second beep, “What’s wrong?”

Something had to be for Officer Jung to call him at 1 AM.

“Remember the one you wanted me to keep an eye on?”

Yoongi hummed as he maneuvered the car at an intersection; he was lucky with every detective and officer he had had the pleasure of working with.

“Just got the code for an explosion and fire at a restaurant downtown that she owns. First responders are on their way. Apparently, she was in the building.”

“Which one?”

His grip stiffened around the steering wheel and in seconds, he was doing a U-turn under the streetlights. There was little on his mind as he drove way past the speed limit, cutting corners and passing cars to get there as quickly as he could.

He stopped his car next to the police barricade and got out with a shudder down his spine. Una mordidita was famous around those parts; it was the best Mexican restaurant, and it was always booked. The building itself was dedicated to the concept, and he knew the different floors could host multiple types of events.

Yet now, it wasn’t the center of influencer buzz or a ballroom dancing event, but of chaos. Firefighters were trying to get the flames under control as even the red neon sign above the building got charred by the smoke escaping the windows. The white walls were losing their shine, and the wood decorations giving it a more Latin-American vibe had surely seen better days.

The chaos of shouts, siren lights, and people wanting to see what was happening didn’t disturb him; he had worked through similar occurrences, so he understood the professionals’ logic through the disorder. What got him running towards the Firefighter Captain handling the occurrence was something else entirely.

He smacked the Captain’s shoulder and didn’t even let him recover from the shock of seeing Yoongi there. “Is everyone out?”

The Captain regained his bearings swiftly, “Working on it.”

Yoongi knew better than to overstep, but he was unsettled. He turned to the entrance of the restaurant, where people were running down the stairs, accompanied by firefighters. He didn’t recognize a single one, and so he turned to the captain again with a stiffness in his shoulders, “You need to—”

A loud female voice shouted, and he spun to look again. The Captain’s frown was entirely lost on Yoongi when he saw you almost being dragged out of the restaurant and down the stairs by two firefighters. His feet instantly took him to you, finally allowing him to hear what you were saying.

“Un-fucking-believable!! You let it spread to the third floor?! What the fuck are you all doing?! Let me go and do your job!!”

He met you at the bottom of the stairs, noticing your bruises, cuts, and blood dripping down your temple. Your embroidery anglaise white dress fit your curves in what would have been a dreamy view if it wasn’t stained with black and red spots, letting see how you had scrapped your knees too. You were busy trying to get the firefighters to get their hands off, but they couldn’t let you go until you calmed down.

You were frantic, so you only noticed Yoongi when his hands settled on your shoulders and he spun you to face him. Your voice finally vanished as your eyes widened; finally, he could see you were shaken up under all that fierceness.

“Are you hurt?”

His tone was firm, to the point, but you squirmed, “I have to—”

“Are you hurt?” He repeated, not letting you get away.

“I’m fine!”

You tried to turn around, but he didn’t let you. He wrapped an arm around you, signaling the firefighters that he had you, then dragged you away. You squirmed and hit his chest, clawing at his arm and demanding he set you free, but he ignored you.

You thought you’d gouge his eyes out in frustration, but suddenly, he forced you to sit on a street bench across the street. He kneeled before you, but your eyes flew beyond him to the restaurant. The fire, the smoke, the people, the firefighters, and even the wreck at the back that you couldn’t see from there. The explosion had been in the kitchen, surely. You knew before any reports because that’s where you’d do it if you wanted to send a message. Easily passable as an accident, but strong enough to cause all that chaos. You ground your teeth, vexed to your core, and sprang back up. The more those idiots wasted time with—

“Sit down.”

Yoongi’s tone was incontestable as he grabbed your arms and forced you back down, and this time you faced him. He was like an apparition, crouched in front of you with his dark hair, sharp eyes, and composed demeanor that always rattled you so much. He was a sight for sore eyes, and it confused you.

“How are you here?”

“Are you hurt?”

“Did you know about this?!” You asked furiously, your anger fueled by the possibility.

But he was impassive, “Are you hurt?”

“Answer the question!”

“You’re in shock, and I need you to calm down.”

“I am fucking calm!” You roared in his face, almost jumping away. “My restaurant just fucking exploded and is on fire, don’t you fucking talk down to me!”

“I know, so calm down.”

His monotone voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

“I’m fucking calm! I need—”

He gripped your wrist and raised it before your eyes, and you jolted; your fist was shaking.

The anxiety crept up on you, and you sobbed under your breath, instantly looking at him in confusion. You were angry, ready to blow on everyone and everything, but suddenly you wanted to cry. Your fear had stayed at bay, but was ambushing you now.

You gripped his coat as you teared up, mouth opening and closing, but nothing came out. You sucked anxious breaths as you looked around, conflicted between crying and telling him it was all so frightening, and getting up and making everyone work hard to save your business.

Your thoughts must have been clear in your eyes because he held you back, grounding you with enough space to let you breathe and process.

“I know. It’s a lot. I promise everyone is handling it, but you are more important.” He spoke calmly, but not condescendingly, and it only made you shake harder. “Tell me: does anything hurt?”

You pulled in a deep breath and frowned, then shook your head. A small explosion behind him drew your eyes, but he guided your chin gently so you’d face him again.

“I’m going to touch you, and you’re going to tell me if it hurts.”

You were ready to cuss him out, but as soon as he released you, you grabbed onto him desperately. There was nothing in his dark eyes as he looked up again, yet you were so embarrassed you could have died. You didn’t want to hold onto him for dear life like that, but it was stronger than you. Your lips trembled, and you suppressed your cry, unable to explain or control what was happening to you, but he had you.

He leaned into you, tugging you in with his elbows on each side of your legs, “I know, I’m here.”

Your frightened eyes showed him enough to anticipate the moment you let go of him to throw your arms around his neck and squeeze tightly. He could barely breathe, but it was secondary; he embraced you slowly, afraid to hurt you. The adrenaline running through your system changed the way you perceived pain, and he’d never risk harming you. Still, you needed to feel safe, so he held you as hard as he could safely.

You were shaking, maybe even crying, but rightfully in his arms. Despite the chaos behind him, that was all that mattered.

He waited until you pulled away, sniffling and pulling your long hair back, embarrassed to face him. It told him the first part was over, and that now you’d be able to talk.

“We need to get you checked.”

“No,” you dismissed easily. “I only trust my people, anyway.”

He swallowed his exasperation and tried again, “But at a hospital—”

“No, just take me home.” You got up and faced the mess before you with a hard expression, catching him off guard. He got on his feet quickly, ready to try to convince you to go to the hospital anyway, but you looked at him again, “My people can meet me there, and I have calls to make.”

He observed you, clearly not convinced, but you stood your ground. You didn’t want to ask nor admit you needed him right now to feel safe and be able to look that problem in the eye. You’d soon be yourself again, and that moment of weakness was unforgivable, even more so in front of him. But as you faced him and waited for his response, you closed your fists and tried not to wobble on your heels or cry again. You had a reputation to uphold, people to manage, retaliation to prepare, and maybe your knees hurt a little bit.

“Alright.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist and directed you slowly in another direction, away from it all. In other circumstances, you could have thought about the potential danger of going with him, but you dismissed those thoughts. Yoongi was your cop, even if you hadn’t seen him in months. He was there for you, and there was no judgment in his eyes.

You sat on the shotgun seat of his car and looked at your lap. The time it took him to circle the car was enough for you to chastise yourself for being so gullible.

He sat down next to you and got ready to drive, and you didn’t hesitate to ask, “Did you know about this?”

“About what?”

“About their plan.”

He glanced at you, then got the car moving, “I was driving home when I was notified of what happened and drove straight here.”

You closed your trembling hands over your lap again, uncomfortable with how relieved his words made you. Your eyes settled on the rearview mirror, where all the chaos was being left behind, and you sighed. You couldn’t let that shake you; it was just a place, a business, one of countless others. It didn’t matter that you were there, that it happened so close you were deaf from your right ear, that you could have died, that it was way too close for comfort.

He reached to grab your hand, and you looked at him again. You didn’t know what to call this or how to interpret it, but he was there. Yoongi was right there.

His perfume was all around you, and with the lull of the car, the nightly traffic, and his hand in yours, you managed to close your eyes, work through the adrenaline, and doze off.

You opened your eyes when he squeezed your hand, meeting the gate of your private property in Hannam-dong. His window was down, and your housekeeper was asking who he was.

“It’s me, Sooyong,” you raised your voice just enough.

The gate instantly opened, and you stretched lazily. You weren’t shaking anymore, and your judgment wasn’t clouded either. All in all, those thirty minutes had managed to calm you down. Of course, your knees stung, your head fucking hurt, and you would feel your left side for days since you fell on it during the explosion. But fuck, if you weren’t ready to get down to business ASAP.

You told Yoongi where to go so he could park inside your garage, then left the car swiftly before it was even off. You didn’t wait for him to follow you inside, but knew he would; instead, you handed your coat to Sooyong, nodded at your two security guards, and bent down to greet your two lovely Dobermans: Archer and Gunner.

“The medic will be here shortly, and I already asked for a preliminary report of the damage.”

Sooyong was looking at Yoongi with suspicion, but you ignored it, “Get me a phone, I need to contact Hoon Yeong.”

Your butler bowed and obeyed instantly, but Yoongi wasn’t able to think about what he was hearing. The two big goons didn’t follow Sooyong, and your dogs had turned to Yoongi the second you stopped petting them.

In another circumstance, Yoongi could have felt intimidated or at least uncomfortable by the whole situation, but not tonight. You were still bleeding, slept only ten minutes in the car, and were now getting worked up instead of resting.

So he spoke up, “You need to get checked before anything else.”

It didn’t matter that your men looked ready to beat him up or that your dogs were sniffing him too close for comfort. You glanced at him, “I’m fine.”

Then you turned and left, disappearing further inside the house.

He didn’t hesitate to follow after you, ready to insist on you taking this seriously, but he wasn’t able to. You dismissed your guards with a wave before they could grab Yoongi to drag him out, and were already pressing a phone to your ear.

He looked around your big living room, its white couches, carpets, fancy glass chandeliers falling from elevated ceilings, and matching walls adorned with expensive art. You didn’t just live lavishly; you displayed it, too.

You sat on a couch while you spoke with a hand covering your eyes, and Yoongi moved quickly to dim the lights. You were stubborn, but he wouldn’t make things harder for you.

He waited while you talked, disliking the observant butler in the corner of the room. Yes, Yoongi was listening to everything you said, but you could have easily told him to leave. So instead, he kept your two dogs busy with him and quiet while you made one call after another, holding nothing back.

“Secure all locations, increase the bouncers working tonight, and do random checks. Send someone to La Mordidita to account for all our staff, and Thoma to make a sweep before the firefighters start snooping around. I want to know what can be recovered and who the fuck dared to pull this shit off.”

“And? And the product? The insurance? Yes, indeed. Don’t move it, don’t do anything. Keep me posted.”

“Talk to me, Ulan,” you sighed, fatigued from handling multiple people. “I want to know how the fuck does anyone even plan this, and I don’t hear about it.”

You were pacing around with each call; whatever you were learning was not helping you settle. The medic arrived and asked you to sit to work on your wounds, but you were restless. You were trying to figure out who did it, and it was clear to him by the way you started shouting that your people knew and that something had failed.

The medic tried cleaning your temple wound, mentioning a concussion, but in your temper, you slapped her hand away. That was the moment Yoongi decided to intervene; he got up, waved the medic away, and took over.

You were ready to slap his hand away, too, but froze when your eyes met his. His expression was hard, saying without as much as an eyelash bat that you needed to hang up.

You huffed your annoyance and quickly redirected your anger, “If you know, then get me something. Those bastards found out about it somehow. Get me the mole, and something that will hurt them just as badly. Weren’t they importing weapons illegally to sell to both North and South? Get me something!”

You ended the call and threw your phone to the other end of the couch.

“The fucking audacity,” you spit between gritted teeth, glaring at Yoongi. He worked fast on the wound on the side of your head, but it still stung.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes, it fucking hurts!”

You exploded and instantly saw the glint in his eyes. Why did he look so dazzling, taunting you like that? He did not react to your outburst whatsoever, so you rolled your eyes.

He started cleaning the cuts on your palms. “Why would they attack your restaurant?”

You gritted your teeth and waved everyone else out of the room, adding a command that guided your darling puppies to their big pillows in the corner of the room. You were annoyed with absolutely everything, and even more with the answer about to fall from your lips, “Because they knew I would go there to secure important goods.”

“Was this personal?”

You smirked bitterly, “Had to be.”

“What were the goods?”

“The product we got last time. Some of it, anyway.”

“How did they find out?”

“A mole, for certain. I moved everything across multiple locations and only disclosed today that a fraction would go to this restaurant for distribution. So unless they can read my fucking mind, they had to learn it from a fucking mole.”

“They could have just followed you if they knew you’d go personally.”

You paused and then chuckled while he prepared the gauze to clean the wounds on your knees. “But they could have attacked any of the venues I was in before, and they didn’t. They had to know what was in this one was worth destroying.” He nodded quietly, seemingly focused on getting your knees clean of debris. You hated the silence and almost growled, “But they have no fucking idea who they’re messing with.”

“No, they don’t.”

His answer was so serene, that it accentuated the silence that echoed the room. He got rid of the bloodied and dirty gauze, looking you over as though he was evaluating if anything else needed pressing attention, and it hit you. “You’re still here.”

He looked at you, “Do you know who did this?”

There was a shift in his tone that made you shudder, “The Russians.”

“Where would it hurt them?”

“Their warehouse downtown.”

“Their boss?”

“Prokhor Evgeni.”

“Where is he?”

“The Evgeni Sports Center in Heungin-dong.”

Yoongi nodded and got up, leaving the same way he got there, and you were dumbfounded.

“Wait!” You got up, and he stopped to look at you. “What are you going to do?”

“You’ll see.”

Some could say that was an abuse of power, but it was too easy.

He realized, as he drove under a sky barely blemished by the rising sun, that when the force wanted to, shit got done in a flash. They said, ‘Where there is a will, there is a way’, and he was in the unique position to have both.

He stopped in a no-parking zone in front of the Evgeni Sports Center in Heungin-dong and made his way lazily up the stairs of the entrance. The big thugs outside didn’t phase him as he asked to speak with Prokhor Evgeni. His tone was dry and blasé, and the men’s reactions were to laugh and joke about it being almost 6 AM. The center was closed to people like him.

“Nothing is ever closed to people like me,” he found himself answering, unmoving.

He saw commotion behind the thugs, where he imagined the security booth was, and instantly relaxed. People like him didn’t have to show identification, his face was enough. He glanced at his watch as he waited, ignoring the quips of the two men, who were increasingly dumbfounded by the situation.

He understood; he would have been stupefied as well. After all, even Superintendent Generals would have security if they wanted to confront the head of a mafia at 6 AM. But as it turned out, Yoongi was feeling beside himself. It was time to start using who he was to get shit done, instead of hiding and praying someone like you could give out a hand. Not this time; it was his turn.

One of the bouncers couldn’t read the room and made a move to touch him, and Yoongi’s eyebrow almost twitched. He just needed one touch to arrest him and get a warrant. Would that be an abuse of power as well?

Fortunately for the small fry, someone from the back called out his name and reprimanded him swiftly in Russian. It was enough for Yoongi to assume everyone was on the same page, and follow when said man — a big, wide fellow with small eyeglasses — waved at him to follow.

Yoongi went up the elevator with the guy in silence, evaluating if anything still needed to be done to wrap this up, but it was just that. And a phone call.

He ignored everything he saw as he walked the corridors, from the men passing him to the gambling hastily hidden by the doors continuously closing in his wake. Finally, he arrived at the office of the big boss, judging by the cigars, wide flat screens showing multiple sports simultaneously, and the big foreigner man with much more white hair than he would have guessed, sitting behind a desk.

“I couldn’t believe it when they told me,” Prokhor Evgeni laughed before the amusement dropped from his face. “But here you are. You must be lost,” he bit the cigar in his mouth, unable to hide his discomfort.

Yoongi stretched his shoulders a little bit and, on cue, his phone rang. He picked it up, “Got it.”

He put his phone back inside his pocket, looking at Prokhor as if waiting for him to say something, which only annoyed the old thug further.

Yoongi looked around as if he had all the time in the world, “I’ll wait for you to be put in the loop.”

Prokhor smacked his hands on the desk, getting up with a shout that never came out because his phone rang as well. He sat back down, cursing under his breath, and picked it up. His gaze was venomous as he heard the caller, unable to stop Yoongi when he reached for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter lying on the desk.

The mob boss’ cheeks were getting redder and redder, yet Yoongi was unfazed as he lit a cigarette and took a drag that numbed his senses. He almost groaned then, holding it in for such a long time he lost track. How had he ever stayed away?

Prokhor yelled what were probably obscenities before slamming the phone on the desk, but before he could talk, Yoongi breathed, “Justice just never sleeps.” The smoke exited his parted lips slowly, and the mob boss stilled, starting to understand the situation. “We were lucky too,” he smirked, taking another drag. “Your kids still had the same materials used in the explosives in their car. Otherwise, I don’t know. We might have required a warrant to search for more potentially harmful materials. Say in the warehouse downtown where they were found lounging around smoking weed when they were arrested.”

Yoongi suppressed a smirk as he put the cigarette between his lips, and the mob boss was so red he was about to explode. He knew the kids weren’t found near his warehouse, so the implication was clear.

“Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?!”

He hissed, but Yoongi only kept smoking placidly, “Just try to poke your head out again.”

In a flash, pure anger became bewilderment in the giant’s blue eyes, “No way.” Yoongi didn’t even blink, so Prokhor scoffed, “Bitch really has the Superintendent General on a leash?”

Yoongi threw the cigarette on the garish carpet, “I like it quiet.”

He turned to leave, but Prokhor got up in a fury again, “I have people too! People who can bite your head off!”

Yoongi turned but kept walking backward, opening his arms in a momentary invitation, before leaving that place without as much as a hair out of place.

It was interesting to consider that Prokhor’s threats could hold true, but Yoongi didn’t feel minimally affected. He got inside his car to drive home and reevaluated his thought process. He and the Firefighter’s Captain had a long history, the Mayor called him for favors, and the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency still operated under his direct scrutiny. It was why puzzling the evidence from the restaurant fire had been so easy, especially given that Thoma had conveniently left the place ready for them. Yoongi assumed; he saw a man in the shadows, between the mess, and minutes later, a firefighter had found something. Interesting how explosions in rich parts of town were such a priority for the city; the division of arson investigation could take years to build a case, but tonight, a couple of hours sufficed. The Mayor saw to that as soon as Yoongi called. And the media would love that swift action, earning everyone brownie points for reelection.

Yoongi parked as he scoffed to himself; he was playing a dangerous game. He eyed his house, wondering if he should feel wary about anything happening to him, but he brushed it off. And if it did? He did what he had to do, and he’d sleep like a rock, knowing he had taken care of everything so you could finally sleep your concussion off.

He got inside his house with the first rays of morning, thanking the universe it was Saturday. But he sighed and didn’t throw his jacket too far, only on the nearest couch, before making his way to the kitchen. He would probably still work—

Something cut the corner at the same time as him but from the kitchen, and his reflex was to pull out his gun instantly, taking a step back. You were tranquil, despite the gun barrel on your face, and his eyes widened in disbelief, “Jesus fuck!”

He could barely believe it was you, with no bandages on your head and now wearing a black dress instead of white, but he still put the gun down. Or would have, but you shoved it away first, then grabbed his head to kiss him.

Instantly, he put the pistol down on a nearby counter, just in time before you pushed him back. He hit a cabinet glass door with your strength and immediately caught you when you threw yourself in his arms, frantically kissing him as if there wouldn’t be a tomorrow.

His initial shock didn’t last when your taste and perfume assured him it was you, and with you, insanity was to be expected. He had nothing against you being in his house, kissing him, or coming to him in general.

But he still tried to hold you back gently so he could ask, “Shouldn’t you— be in bed— resting?”

He spoke between your hungry lips, whenever you gave him a split second, and you laughed, “Take me to bed, then.”

Your sly smile died in a small yelp when he bent down to pick you up in his arms. You held onto him silently while he carried you upstairs to his bedroom, and his ego couldn’t have been more inflated after that whole crazy night. What got him wasn’t that he managed to calm you down, met your dogs, or solved your problem by showing some mob boss how big his cock was, no. What got him hard in a split second was that little yelp and your silence as he carried you effortlessly. He might have had an office job, but he still took the time to go to the gym every day, and fuck if it wasn’t worth it.

When he put you down over the bed, he thought you’d actually want to sleep after such an exhausting night, but he should have known better. You got on your knees on the bed before he could open his mouth and started unbuttoning his shirt. His expression must have given away his thoughts because you didn’t stop, but you didn’t push him either. You waited for a clear indication that you could touch him, but didn’t hesitate to get him naked, opening every button. Then, when you pulled the shirt back over his shoulders, he grabbed your head to kiss you.

Your reaction was instant, rushing to get rid of the shirt and unbuckle his belt as he consumed your mouth eagerly. It was hard not getting distracted, especially by the way he easily pulled on your hair to keep you on your toes, but it only served to melt you. Even when he did it with a level of gentleness, careful about your injuries; something that could easily trigger you and turn you off, but tonight made you so eager to be with him, that you didn’t recognize yourself.

You moaned inside his mouth when he sucked your tongue, dizzy from the blood rushing everywhere all at once. Fortunately, you had made your way inside his pants and could anchor yourself to his cock.

It only made you groan harder as you pumped him; he couldn’t get harder than that, and your wet core would be the perfect match.

His consuming kiss along with his soft touches could have gotten you to settle and let him decide where to take this, but you knew what you wanted and your limits. You needed Yoongi like air to breathe, but you were on painkillers and exhausted. You shouldn’t have driven there in that condition, but couldn’t stop yourself. So, you pushed through his addictive, wild kisses and pulled his pants and underwear down, hinting at him to strip fully.

He did so in a heartbeat, falling over you so quickly you didn’t see it coming. Accommodating him over you between your parted legs was everything you wanted, so you sighed into his returning mouth, clawing at his back so he’d come closer. His lips soon made a detour to your neck, and you were overrun by shivers, almost pleading his name with how much you were dying to feel him.

But as he made his way down to your chest, you pushed through your cloudy, horny judgment. You pushed him by the shoulders and got on top of him, straddling him easily. His head fell over the pillow, dark hair contrasting with the white as his equally dark eyes observed you. They were glistening, hungry, but the hands on your hips were patient, and controlled. Min Yoongi wanted to ravish you, but for you, he’d give you the lead. You almost teased him about it, but there was no time to waste.

You had never seen him naked, so you weren’t shy about looking; quickly, but still. You touched every scar you could see — on his left shoulder, under his ribs, on the side of his waist, wondering how he had gotten injured and if it had hurt. Your lips followed suit, lingering over his skin while you sniffed his scent on your way to an untamed delicacy.

You only nuzzled him for a second before starting to lick his balls greedily, and he groaned, “You don’t have to.”

You smirked, laughing with yourself — as if you’d miss the opportunity. “I want to.”

It would be wrong to say you drove across town in that state to give head to Min Yoongi, but it was close to the truth. In your plans, you spent more time working him up — kissing him, dry humping, maybe even twisting those pretty nipples — before reaching his balls and preparing him to give you cum all night long.

But the fucking concussion and pain and tiredness or whatever. It irritated you, your knees hurt, and your head was spinning, and not necessarily from his luscious scent or your insane lust. So, unfortunately, you had to cut to the chase.

Just licking the tip of his dick wasn’t enough; not for you, and not for him. You wanted the thick mushroom tip between your lips, and the guttural groan he let out once you sucked broke the dam for you.

You licked and drooled all over him, bobbing your head to get him further and further inside you with greed that bordered on obsession. The more your jaw slacked, and his taste flooded your mouth, the more you needed to feel him pressing, invading, reaching inside you. His groans matched your moans, his fists around the sheets mimicked your hands holding his hips, and the desperation of his hips, moving to match your head falling on him, almost fulfilled your need.

Until you realized that wouldn’t do. Your wet cunt was throbbing slick, desperate with your need, and you were selfish. You wanted him to bust his nut down your throat, but fuck; you wanted to ride him more.

The drool that fell all over his hard, red shaft was almost embarrassing, but you didn’t waste time licking it. You got off him to slide your underwear off, your eyes never abandoning his, and so you didn’t miss him looking at you with a glint of despair in his eyes.

“I think I wouldn’t have lasted five more seconds.”

You grinned at his confession and got back on him, throwing your dress around so you could align him with your slit, “Good.” You felt the tip of his cock, and so did he, because he gripped your hips as if to stop you. “You better hold it.”

His dark eyes showed a hint of torture, but you were not sympathetic. You pressed yourself down on him, rolling your hips to get him coated in you, forcibly stretching you, making you keen so ecstatically, that you threw your head back. If his thick cock tucked inside you wasn’t enough, then the groans out of his mouth, with gritted teeth and a frown, in deep concentration, would take the cake. You rolled your hips further, slowly in wide movements, seeing every line in his face contorting or twitching under your sweet torture, his strength slowly leaving him as he fought tooth and nail not to come so soon.

“Your— Your knees—”

You smirked, oblivious about your bandaged knees at that moment. “Shut up, just let me ride you.”

His nails pierced your skin at the hips around your garter, and you moaned approvingly. Just looking at him, the blood rushed to your cheeks, the temperature rising immediately in a heatwave through your body. Every grunt of his was fuel; you couldn’t stop moving, dragging his thick cock across your walls so it could disappear deep inside you and torture him some more. And you, because the more he resisted, the more you wanted it, and the more it got to you too.

You knew you’d come pathetically quick but didn’t imagine it would be this fast. The pleasure burning through you was so overwhelming and undeniable, that soon you were riding him hungrily, not to torture him, but to come with him. He noticed it somehow because he started helping you, meeting you with short thrusts upwards that set your body on fire. You wanted him so fucking bad that leaning over his chest to kiss him before you came became your final act, and you crashed.

Your mouth pressed to his with a shaky moan from deep inside your chest, and he held the back of your head, keeping you in place. He fucked you through your orgasm, your throbbing so intense around him, it took him seconds to spill inside you; to groan into your mouth as he pressed you down, burying his cock as deep as he could.

Feeling him coming was such a delight, you grinned. The silence was cut by your chuckle seconds later, and even when he bit your cheek, you didn’t come down from cloud nine.

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