#the North Korean government said it's true I swear

[kosmicpowers]

this is just cannon tho

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid Chapter 18

Previous: Cricket & Bunny

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x OFC

Genre: Secret AgentAU, Government AgentAU

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: Our resident P.I. finds who she's been looking for, and gets an unwelcome surprise. 

(two shorter chapters today!) 

Harboring Hoseok

Present Day

           I found Jung Hoseok.

           Let me back track that statement – After months of digging, harassing my sister for more help, using all my contacts in various bureaus, lying to Euna that I’d made progress when I hadn’t, I finally have found Jung Hoseok, Hoseok Jung.

           I know, you’re wondering, how? What finally cracked the case? How did I, the person incapable of finding Min Yoongi, lucky enough to stumble into Park Jimin, find Jung Hoseok?

           You’ll be shocked, you’ll be amazed, you’ll be dumbfounded that I stumbled into him in the most millennial way possible, because I found him on, don’t hold your breath:

           Instagram.

           That’s right, I stumbled upon Jung Hoseok on fucking Mark Zuckerberg owned, Instagram. It was a coincidence, a twist of fate, that I was even in the vicinity of him, because we do not live in the vicinity of each other. I wasn’t sure he was even alive; I wasn’t sure if he had moved continents or countries. But, in the ether, he resides.

           Sometime after Jungkook told me he loves me, and after I created permanent scarring on his back from my too long fingernails (they’ve since been cut multiple times), I went to my favorite Barre3 studio. I’m not going to lie, I go regularly. I’m addicted. Yes, it can be cult-ish, but have you ever worked out so thoroughly your ass hurts when you stand? Or listened to a teacher relay the message that you are strong, that your body is powerful, that you can accomplish any challenge? If not, and I know this is propaganda, but like take a class. I can give you a discount.

           The point is, somewhere between sumo squats and parallel bridge lifts, I noticed this woman, stunning, who seems to come to class every day before or after she hits the gym with her trainer. The. Stamina. Can you believe? On a Wednesday, I accidentally bumped into her, spilling some of my water down her Sweaty Betty matching set. I apologized profusely, and she laughed it off, saying it cooled her down. She noticed my earrings, liked them, and ever since then we’ve been texting. We’ve even gone so far as to get coffee, which prompted me to do my favorite activity, troll her Instagram. Some people say Instagram is going the way of Facebook, which it easily could be, but it’s so damn fun that I pray every day the trend continues in its favor.

           A public figure, Genevieve Yang is the height of couture. She is at every fashion week, Milan, Paris, New York, and donates nearly as much as Kwan and Seo, combined. Leaving the spotlight to work on a smaller sect of her organization, focusing on women’s reproductive rights, specifically women in poverty, she’s rarely photographed or seen outside of said events. Instead, she works 8-5, exercises regularly and rumor has it, is vegan. She’s the eldest of three, and her siblings are a pediatric cardiologist and a Rhodes Scholar. Within the universe of the Lee’s, she’s looked down upon for being biracial, her father, a first generation Nigerian-American, fell in love with her mother, a first generation Korean American from Busan, during their study abroad stint in Italy. I’ve been dying to find a connection to the Lee’s, and here, in all her melanin glory, is Genevieve.

           In scrolling through her Instagram, I came across a photo series from a few weeks ago. To my surprise, standing with his arm around Genevieve’s shoulder, stands a man with dimples so deep and rays of sun beaming through the photo and barreling past my phone screen.

           Jung Hoseok.

           And who should be next to him?

           Lee Kwan-Min.  

           They’re in an ornate ballroom, gold ceilings and ball gowns, masquerade masks held in their manicured fingers. They’ve been drinking and dancing, as is evident in their, what Jungkook would call Asian Glow, and in the caption.

           Drink every night bc we’re drinking to our accomplishments

           A paraphrase from a Drake song, it seems to ring true as I scan through the other photos of the evening. It must’ve been Lee Enterprises semi-annual gala, masquerade theme taking turns with Gatsby or in the era of Bridgerton, Regency London. Their summer event, Polos & Picnics, is as you guessed it, a Lacoste and Perignon soaked day drinking celebration of everyone’s summer tans and Hampton houses. It’s anyone’s guess which event raises more money, or costs more to put on. Jun-Seo and Kwan-Min throw a few other smaller events, brunches and casino nights, all earnings going to their philanthropy. The galas are the hottest ticket in North America, and I am still stunned that Hoseok had made it into the embrace of Kwan-Min.

           Think Crazy Rich Asians meets the Met Ball. It’s all anyone ever wants to attend, and damn if I’m not jealous every year.

           Hoseok is tagged in the photo series, and by clicking on his name, I can see our mutual friend, and nothing more. The age-old question every millennial has to ask themselves is this, is that enough to send a follow request? I don’t know if it is, but what’s the worst that can happen? He blocks me? Alright, that gives me information that I can use. Sure following him would be the best case, but he could leave it pending for weeks.

           I send the request and text my newest friend, Genevieve Yang, who immediately calls me.

           “Oh Y/N, what do I owe the pleasure?” Genevieve asks.

           “I just thought we could chat, I was looking at your Instagram and-

           “Oh my god! Do the pics from the Masquerade look good? I can’t tell if people love them, or just tolerate them, you know?” She sips loudly on what I assume is some green smoothie, her favorite non H2O beverage.

           “Sure, absolutely, I totally know,” I lie.

           “Don’t lie to me,” Genevieve scolds.

           “They’re beautiful, but I didn’t recognize who was in that first one with you,” I bait.

           “Come off it, you absolutely know,” She laughs but I swear I can hear her rolling her eyes.

           “The woman looked familiar, but I don’t know from what,” I tell her, curiosity in my voice. “I have no clue who that man is.”

           If she could see me, she’d laugh. A barely eaten sandwich, cold coffee in a travel mug I got when I was 20, and dark circles under my eyes from my inability to sleep the last few nights. The paranoia of the last letter has seeped into my subconscious, and I can’t bring myself to sleep unless Jungkook is nearby, of which, he isn’t. Gone on a business trip for the last three nights, gone for five more. How incredibly rude of him, but there isn’t much I can do when his boss could possibly be 007 incarnate. Or Danny Trejo.

           “She’s one of the heirs to Lee Enterprises,” She tells me.

           “The Lee Enterprises?”

           “Oh so you do know?”

           “I’ve heard of them, how could you not? Their parties are exclusive, and that’s putting it generously,” I respond sipping on my own beverage. Two can play ASMR phone games, Genevieve.

           “Oh, the most exclusive, top of the line guests, one year, Beyonce performed, and the next, Adele,” She regales me, tempting me to go off topic.  

           “Are you dating that guy? He’s gorgeous,” I inquire.

           “Hoseok? No, no, not for me. I think he was going to ask Kwan out,” Genevieve says.

           “Really? A new boyfriend?”

           Scoffing loudly, “Just because she isn’t like her siblings doesn’t mean she doesn’t date.”

           “None of them have a particularly stellar track record,” I remind her.

           “Does anyone?” She breathes.

           “I suppose not,”

           “Mm, anyway, Hoseok is eying Kwan, I’m single and you’re still with that guy, who?”

           “Jungkook,”

           “Mm, I think Hoseok might know him,” She says.

           “What?” I ask.

           The thing with being a P.I. is accepting the reality that nothing is a coincidence. There are no happy accidents, nothing is considered fate. I’ve been so, blinded, by my personal connection with Jungkook to see the larger picture. What if he is part of this? Could he be conspiring with these other men? Does he know them, like they seem to be implying? How fucking blind have I been?

           “Yeah, he said something to me later, about knowing a Jungkook and wondering if they were the same. He said that it’s not a common name in Korea, so why would it be here?” Genevieve’s soft voice pulls me back from my panic attack.

           “Yeah, say, does Hoseok know a Namjoon?” I ask.

           “I don’t know, do you want me to ask?” Genevieve sets her drink down, the sound clinking through my phone.

           “Uh, no, no, that’s okay,” My hands hastily move against my keyboard, searching Hoseok’s followers for Namjoon.

           But I don’t find him.

           Instead, my blood runs cold at who I find.

Next: Codename Miss Cuttlefish, If Ya Nasty