The Five Year Plan Rewrites

the five year plan rewrites

the five year plan . nine | jjk

when you were twenty you had sat down and made your five-year plan, you would get married, get your dream house, have your dream career and then at the end of those five years you’d have a kid. everything was going almost perfectly to plan, well that was until your husband came home with divorce papers. now you’re somehow trying to stay on track, maybe you could convince your best friend to have a baby with you.

chapter nine. the one where you wake him up and jungkook doesn't mind at all.

pairing: best friend!jungkook x reader genre: fluff, idiots to lovers, slow burn. rating: explicit, no longer eventual. minors do not interact!! tags: the idiots attempt to procreate(again), jungkook wearing glasses should come with a warning (as i've been informed), overstimulation, oral f! receiving, unprotected sex, jungkookie baby your feelings are showing. word count: 3.6k date (re)posted: 191023 authors note:  note: like stated in part five, the last few remaining chapters will literally just have minor editing, so you don’t really need to reread them unless you want. the only reason i’m still reposting them is so they’re all cohesive 🫡

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You’re too warm when you wake up. The world is still blurry around the edges as you try to blink the fog of sleep from your eyes. Your dream’s ending is fading into nothingness as you try to decipher why you’re even awake.

You reach blindly for your phone on your bedside table, only to come up empty-handed. You must have forgotten to plug it in before falling asleep, and it’s probably somewhere in bed with you buried in the sheets.

You don't remember falling asleep. You remember Jungkook turning on another movie, and you must've dozed off somewhere between the town flooding and Sosuke and Ponyo's journey to her home.

It's still dark; it's probably the middle of the night, and you two hadn't eaten dinner before falling asleep.

You push the covers off because now that the thought has crossed your mind, you realize you are hungry.

When you go to swing your legs over the edge of the bed, you're suddenly aware of why you were so hot in the first place.

An arm covered in familiar tattoos is wrapped tightly around your waist, his hand is resting on the bare skin of your stomach from where your shirt had lifted in your sleep, and a sweatpant-clad leg is thrown over yours, effectively holding you in place.

It's far too hot for him to have his entire body pressed against yours. The dying August heat had crept back in while you were sleeping, and your clothes stuck to you uncomfortably.

You sigh and try to remove yourself from him. You push at his arm with no luck.

“Bubs,” comes a sleepy whine in response.

“Bro, let go of me.” You groan out, pushing at him harder. Your actions seem to have the opposite effect because the more you struggle, the tighter he holds you. He tightens his grip and drags you even closer to him.

He shushes you, burying his face in the back of your neck, "Go back to sleep.”

You huff out in annoyance, and you tiredly accept your fate. You know what he's like when he's sleepy, and there's a good chance you won't be moving until the morning.

You close your eyes, try to fall back asleep and take note of your body the way you always do when you try to distract your brain from letting you sleep.

You tense your feet while breathing in deeply, holding your breath, and then you force them to relax while breathing out. Then you tense your legs, breathe in, hold, relax, and out.

You're moving on to your back, and oh. You feel flushed for a different reason as your sleep-addled brain catches up to the feeling of his hard cock nuzzled against you through the thin layers of your clothing.

Now more alert than when you first began trying to fall asleep, you pause to do some calculations mentally. You had your last period about a week and a half ago, so you should be just a few days shy of ovulating.

It wouldn't hurt to try…

“Koo,” You whisper quietly into the night, maybe too quiet as you don't get a response.

“Jungkook,” You try again, a little louder and firm in your decision.

Jungkook hums in response, snuggling himself impossibly closer to you.

“Want to have sex?“ Your words are just above a whisper once again, but they sound unbelievably loud in the stillness of your room.

It's been too long since you spoke, and he has yet to offer a response. You fear that he didn't hear you. You try to turn to face him; this time, his hold on you slackens, and he lets you. You're met face to face with wide, starry eyes trying to blink sleep away and closer, fighting to stay awake and trying to fall asleep all at once.

“Do you want to have sex?” You repeat hesitantly, and it’s much more intimidating now that you’re looking him in his eyes.

The hand that isn't holding you rubs at his eyes tiredly, “Am I sleeping?” He asks, voice deep and groggy with sleep.

You blink at him, gaze questioning, “Do you dream about having sex with me?”

Jungkook snorts, apparently deeming that question unnecessary of a response. His hand that had been holding you is now tracing absent-minded shapes on your back.

The silence sets in again, so you speak once more before Morpheus can lull him back into the comfort of his hold.

“You don't have to say yes. We can just go back to sleep. I was just thinking,” Your words couldn't be much louder than the fan humming in the stillness of the room, but you can tell Jungkook is listening, “it wouldn't hurt to try again.”

He hums once again, “Okay.” Like he'd ever deny you.

His hand that had been drawing stars into your skin trails its way down your spine and around to your stomach and then creeps lower until just a finger is toying with the waistband of your sweatpants.

He hums once again, this time asking for permission. You nod in response, and his fingers creep lower.

The leg that had been thrown over you moves to push between your legs, holding you open for him. You let out a pleased hum as he cups you through your panties, no doubt feeling the wetness that had been starting to pool there. He responds with a hum of his own at your warmth.

You let out a content sigh as he pushed the cotton to the side. Your eyes are still locked with his as his curious touch gently traces your folds, spreading around your wetness before sliding two of his long fingers inside you.

Because you can't help yourself, you reach forward and pull him into a kiss.

It's a much-needed comfort and distraction; the eye contact the two of you had been holding felt far too intimate.

You can feel his smile against your lips as his fingers continue exploring inside you.

Seemingly satisfied, he works his fingers in and out of you, and you make a noise in response. It's not quite a moan that escapes your lips, but a pleased noise nonetheless.

Your hips rock involuntarily against his hand, seeking pleasure from him in a way you weren't even conscious of.

Sharp gasps and little whines escape your mouth and creep into his as he works you toward an orgasm.

“Jungkook, please,” You whine, taking your lips from his. Jungkook is not deterred in the slightest, his lips chasing after yours, and when you turn your head to let out another whine, he instead works on leaving his mark on your skin. His tongue and teeth against your neck make your nerves sing.

His thumb reaches up and rubs circles against your clit, his fingers no longer working their way in and out but now grinding against that spot in you that has you seeing stars.

You're holding your breath now, your body tensing as you're pushed closer to the edge.

“Jungkook,” You gasp out, grinding your hips down against his hand, your hands holding onto his arm for dear life, nails digging into his flesh.

“Shhh, it's okay, baby. You're doing so good.” He whispers into your ear, his words being just what you need to push you that little bit further.

Your eyes roll back into your head, hips twitching, and small sounds escape your lips as you award Jungkook for his effort as your orgasm goes through you.

Jungkook works you through it, fingers still thrusting shallowly before slowly pulling his fingers away as you start whining in over sensitivity.

Your breath catches in your throat as he brings them to his mouth, letting out a pleased hum at your taste.

“Hmm, wanna taste you.” He says absentmindedly; the words don't come out like he was asking to, just that it was a general observation.

You're still trying to catch your breath as you push your sweats and panties off around your hips and down your legs. Your shirt is next. You hadn't been wearing a bra, you never left your house today, so you didn't feel the need to put one on, and when you're finally bare, you feel a little less stifled. The room no longer feels too hot; you feel like you can breathe freely, but that could just be the orgasm talking.

He reaches around you, and you’re confused until he pulls his glasses on his face, staring at you purposefully.

“What're you doing?” You ask self-consciously, feeling more than naked under his gaze, suddenly aware of him being fully clothed and yourself being laid bare.

He makes a noise in response, ”Just want to look at you.”

“Well, that's enough looking,“ You huff petulantly, trying not to squirm under the weight of his star-filled eyes roaming over your bare skin.

His response is more of a release of breath than a laugh, but it's received all the same. A shiver runs down your spine at the noise.

“Brat.” He says with a fond tone under his breath, like the words were just for him. He speaks again, this time the words meant for your ears, “Whatever you say, bubs.”

He's taking off his clothes before you can tell him to, and this time, you don't feel the need to force your gaze away from his bare skin. Your eyes studying him the same way he was watching you, you're still feeling too shy to let your gaze fall below his waist. It seems dumb, knowing he's literally been inside you, but you can't bring yourself to look freely.

You're both quiet, laying face to face on your sides, eyes just taking each other in. You're almost tempted to reach out and touch him like he had touched you. You wonder if you got him off the same way he did you; it wouldn't feel as strange anymore.

“This isn't too weird, right?” You ask cautiously because this is only the second time the two of you will be having sex. It already doesn't feel as awkward as the last time, but that lingering intimidation seems to deepen the longer you lay here. The fog of pleasure and sleep quickly fading from your brain.

Jungkook shakes his head in response, messy bedhead flopping with the movement. He leans forward to catch your lips in a chaste kiss, “No, it's not. We're okay.” He reassures you, eyes open and honest behind his glasses, and you feel your heart stutter a beat.

“Okay,” You say quietly, nodding your head in response. He kisses you again, and you feel yourself relaxing into him.

He reaches down and hooks his hand into the crook of the back of your knee, hiking your thigh up and around his hip, not breaking the kiss.

You sigh against his lips as he aligns himself with you and slowly pushes into you. One of your hands rests against his neck, playing with the hair at the base of his skull, the other around his back, nails absently scratching against his skin as he shallowly thrusts in and out of you.

He moves at a slow pace, forcing little breaths from your mouth as he slowly makes his way deeper with every thrust.

He pulls out almost entirely and thrusts slowly back into you, this time completely to the base. His hips are completely pressed against yours, you can feel his balls against your ass, and then he pulls out once again just as slowly.

The slow drag of his cock inside you, paired with the feeling of his lips against yours, has you feeling warm in a way that you can't explain.

He moves his hips in lazy strokes, not yet quite searching for either of your highs, just enjoying the feeling of being in you. You're both making pleased noises against each other’s lips at the sensation.

It feels too intimate that you're just enjoying each other. It doesn't feel like you're doing this with a purpose like this isn't just for the outcome, but you can't bring yourself to care, lost in the fog of pleasure. You don't even let yourself wonder if this will change things; you just moan in response to the slow drag of his cock against your G-spot.

He hikes your leg higher, the new angle allowing him to reach even deeper inside you. A whine leaves your mouth, and you pull your lips from his.

"Feel good, Baby?” He asks. You can hear the smirk on his voice more than you can see it in the dark of your bedroom.

"S'nice.” You breathe out, your nails digging into his skin, your other hand fingers tangled in his hair, and you can't help but tug.

Jungkook lets out a hiss and reflexively fucks into you harder, your mind suddenly supplying memories of jokingly calling out Jungkook for having a pain kink. He’s too often getting piercings just to let them close and then getting them done again. Maybe there was some basis to that, you think as he starts fucking into you more roughly.

His movements are no longer slow. He’s picking up his pace, his thrusts now quick and harsh. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours fills the room with both of your moans.

He works in and out of you in a rhythm, keeping tempo with the sound of your cries. Responding appropriately to every noise you make, keeping track of what you seem to be enjoying best.

It's not long before you feel yourself approaching your second orgasm, and while you're nowhere near as competitive as Jungkook, you cumming twice before him just won't do. You wrap your leg tighter around him and grind your hips into his, meeting his thrusts.

You were suddenly determined to make him cum before you did again, and he let out a throaty groan, hands reaching down to grip your ass, forcing you to move at his pace.

What had started as soft, slow sex had quickly turned into fast rough thrusts, the head of his cock repeatedly hitting your cervix.

His hands knead your ass as he lets out sharp grunts, your moans coming in response like you're speaking a language all your own. One of your hands reaches down to play with your clit, he quickly pushes your hand away, and you whine in response, practically begging until he replaces your hand with his own.

“Fuck,” He gasps out, his hips stuttering as you clench around him, the dual stimulation causing the reaction, your eyes practically rolling back.

He lets out a breathless laugh, “You can't stop being a fucking brat even for two seconds, huh, Bubs? Always have to have your way.”

Oh fuck, “Can't help it,” You moan out, clenching around him again, ”feels s'good.”

You're rolling your hips against his, a shock of pleasure shooting through you with every drag of his cock inside you.

“C'mon, c'mon, c'mon,” You're practically begging, you're so close. Your one-sided competition has ended almost as suddenly as it started. “Please, please, please, please.”

Your begging turns into fucked out gasps with every slam of his hips against yours. Your hips are bucking wildly, just trying to fucking cum.

"Come on, baby, fuck,” He grunts. His hand roughly slaps your ass, and your pussy clenches in response. What the fuck?

Your mind barely has the time to process it because he's speaking again, "You can do it, baby, cum for me."

His fingers rubbing rough tight circles on your clit, cock fucking harshly in and out of you, and the tell-tale twitch of his cock inside of you has you holding your breath and tensing your body up.

Pussy spasming around him as he thrusts in, pulls out, in, out, then back in unbearably deep, grinding his hips against yours. You are rocking your hips against his.

Your eyes roll back, your nails digging into his skin, no doubt leaving marks, thighs shaking as you finally cum. He fucks you through the waves of your orgasm well on the way to his own, little grunts forcing their way out of his lips as his hips fuck into yours. His thrusts slow to a stop as he releases into you, a deep moan leaving his lips.

You're both still, breathing deeply, eyes locked with him still inside you. You don't break your gazes as he slowly pulls out of you.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” He hisses as you clench around the head of his cock. He throws his head back as reflexively fucks back into you. Whines, leaving both of your mouths in response.

He tries again to pull out, this time succeeding with a sigh. You slowly lower your leg from his side and roll onto your back, your chest heaving with exhaustion.

You close your eyes as you try to catch your breath, body heavy as you feel yourself slipping back into a slumber.

Your mind tries to tell you that it's a bad idea. You should get up and pee, so you don't get a UTI. It would be best to clean yourself off, or you'll regret it in the morning. But you can't bring yourself to care, too relaxed and pleasantly buzzed from the orgasms.

You're just starting to drift off, the lull of sleep pulling you closer …

“Holy fuck!” You squeak out as you feel Jungkook's lips wrap around your clit, completely unexpected. Your clit is still puffy and overly sensitive, every nerve in your body screaming.

You can feel the vibrations of his chuckle against you, your legs instinctively close, practically trapping him between them. He lets out a pleased hum that reverberates through you.

“Said I wanted to taste you,” He sounds far too pleased with himself, leaving sloppy kisses against your core, hands holding onto your thighs.

He dips his tongue in and out of you in an incomparable impression of his cock just moments earlier.

Your fingers wrap around strands of his hair, pulling harshly in a way you know must be painful, but all Jungkook does is moan and fuck his tongue in and out of you, nose rubbing against your overly sensitive clit.

It doesn't take much for you to be on the edge of another orgasm; not enough time has passed since the last.

Your legs are shaking as Jungkook's tongue explores inside of you, cleaning out all that remains of himself from out of you.

The taste of both of you on his tongue as he brings you to your third orgasm of the night.

Deep throaty moans leave your mouth as he works you through it, but even then, he keeps going.

His tongue now joined with his fingers, your moans uncontrollable as tears form in your eyes as you're barreled through your third orgasm and heading straight for the fourth.

It's sososo good, and all too much at once. His fingers join his tongue, stroking deep parts inside of you in the best way. He's familiar with your body now, and it shows.

“K-Koo,” You choke out, trying to push his head away as an unfamiliar feeling builds in your core, “wait, wait, wait,”

He doesn't, his other hand pushing down on your stomach, and you let out a choked sob at the rush of fluid coming out of you.

Holy shit, holy shit, did he just make you squirt?

He pulls back with a deep gasp, his face covered in you, and you want to cry. You bring your hands up to your face, trying to hide away from him.

“Fuck, baby. That was so hot.” He says absolutely marveled by you.

You squeak and shake your head, not moving your hands away. You don't want to look at him right now. What the fuck was that?

He laughs and rubs soothing circles on your thighs, “Why’re you hiding? I'm the one who did it?”

You huff and drop your hands, "You're right,” You glare at him, “It's all your fault. That wasn't a part of the plan, Jeon.”

He lays his head against your thigh, "Jeon again, is it? What happened to Koo? That was cute.”

“Shut up,” you respond, crossing your arms and noticing how his eyes glaze over through his wet glasses as he stares at your breasts. You had unintentionally pushed them up with the action.

You feebly try to kick him away, fearing that he'd try to stick his dick in you again, and you don't think you'd be able to handle a fifth — fifth, what the shit? orgasm.

Your legs are practically mush, so it doesn't do much, but he takes the hint and pulls himself away from you. He gets out of bed slowly, like he doesn't want to leave you.

You try your hardest not to be embarrassed again as he removes his glasses and wipes them clean with his discarded shirt. He puts them back on and stares down at you.

“Hmm, we're gonna have to change the sheets.” He says, and you just blink back blearily.

He snorts, and then you hear his steps creep away as he walks towards your en suite, likely to grab a washcloth to clean you up and the aforementioned sheets. You see the light out of the corner of your eye and then the telltale noise of your sink’s water running.

“What the fuck was that?” You say into the silence of the night, your fan humming in response, offering up what you assume is a 'Bitch, I don't know either.'

Jungkook sings a random song to himself as you mentally remind yourself never to wake him again.

— the last rewrite omg!!! we're done!!!

everlasting • jjk

➜ being able to love the same person forever is a blessing given from the heavens. to you, however, eternity has become a curse. 

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader

genre: angst • reincarnation au

warnings: a slight, non-explicit insinuation of sex. subtle mentions of violence. probably historical inaccuracy. also, suffering. lots of suffering, actually.

word count: 18k

rating: pg-13

anon requested: a jungguk fic where him and the reader never work out in any life time like they’ll be “maybe we’ll be together in the next life time” yk I don’t know if I’m making sense 🥺 but then in the last one they end up being together.

➜  this is part of the 1st anniversary event. check out masterlist in bio for more of my works!

× 1401 ×

“You look absolutely lovely!” your mother chirps happily, clapping her hands together. “The most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen!”

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231022 - jimin on instagram

dextrocardia | 09

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

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

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

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

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

word count: 5k

warnings: besides a lot of tears and high key depression... none really in this part

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 9/? 

<previous | next>

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

You’re not really sure where you are. It’s dark and relatively quiet in the room where you’re lying, but you can still make out something that sounds like very muffled footsteps. You groan. Your head and entire body hurt, and your brain feels like mush, but at least you’re… warm. Hurt and tired, but warm.

Sometime later—how much, you’re not sure—the door opens quietly, and a person enters the room, rays of light illuminating their figure from behind.

“Oh, you’re awake. Good.”

It’s a gentle female voice, but not one you recognize.

“Where am I?” you ask quietly, your voice weak which isn’t that surprising considering the circumstances.

“At the hospital. Can I turn the light on?”

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, squinting in preparation for the incoming light. It’s bright but not nearly as blinding as you were expecting.

The hospital. So, it really happened, huh?

The nurse approaches your bed, smiling sweetly. “I’m just gonna take a look at your eyes, okay?”

You watch as she feels her pockets for something and smiles when she finds the little pen-looking thing. Carefully, she places one hand on your forehead to get a good angle, clicks the pen, and directs the light it produces into your eyes.

“Follow my finger?”

Concentrating, you follow her index finger as she moves it from side to side in front of you.

“Looks good! I don’t know how much you remember, you shifted between conscious and unconscious when you came in, but you’ve got a pretty bad concussion and also some blood loss. It didn’t require a transfusion, but you’ll feel pretty weak for a bit. This,” she points to your left, and you turn your head to see a metal stand and a bag of clear fluid hanging from it, “is just for your dehydration. Seems like your body’s been under a lot of stress recently, so although we’ve been monitoring you, I think you mostly just needed to rest.”

“Oh.”

She nods, and then she starts noting down things on her clipboard. For a few seconds, you watch absentmindedly.

You’re not sure what you’re supposed to feel. The last thing you remember except for Jeongguk’s still face is hearing gunshots and seeing Yoongi. Obviously, Hoseong was injured, but you don’t know how badly, and someone either called an ambulance for you or drove you here themself. If Hoseong is alive, you’re still very much in trouble, but here, at the hospital, you can’t find it in you to care all that much.

Maybe the shock hasn’t quite worn off yet. You thought you were going to die, you knew Jeongguk was going to kill you to get rid of you, but… now, he’s dead, and you’re still alive…

God, how idiotic of him, sacrificing himself for someone like you. If Hoseong didn’t make it, you’re sure the task will just be delegated to someone else–they all got shit to hide and protecting a rapist and harassing and threatening the victim doesn’t look too good for anyone.

So, not only was it incredibly unnecessary as you’re still a target, but he didn’t even like you. Either, he felt sorry for you, or… he’s not dead at all, and they’re still playing with you? Did he fake his own death so that… he could waltz back in and have you eating from his palm out of guilt?

Your heart clenches and you shut your eyes. You saw him. You saw the realization in his eyes and heard him as he used his last words to tell you where the car keys were so that you could run. Looking down, you pull the hospital gown down enough for you to inspect the white, rectangular wound dressing. The sword went through him. Hoseong twisted it so roughly that if it hadn’t pierced Jeongguk’s heart as it impaled him, it certainly sliced it open then.

Oh, God. Jeongguk.

You feel your bottom lip start to tremble, and you blink fervently to push back the tears.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot,” the nurse exclaims, noticing your change of mood. “Do you want to see your husband?”

You swallow, watching her face as she smiles at you. “My husband?”

“Yeah, he just came out of surgery like an hour or so ago. He won’t wake up for a while, but I can take you to him if you want?”

All you know is that you nod, small but eagerly, and then a few minutes later, she helps you change into the clothes your friend came with and disconnects the IV. You don’t ponder too much about where Jihyo is at the moment, figuring she’s making calls or even sleeping somewhere as it’s early morning.

The nurse convinces you to let her wheel you in a wheelchair, and you nearly hold your breath as you move through the white-painted corridors.

“So, he’s… he’s alive?” you finally ask, not entirely believing the impossible. There’s no way.

“Yeah, the surgeons will be with you shortly to explain everything but with his condition—which is quite rare, very rare, actually–”

“–His condition?” you interrupt, confused. Jeongguk was–is?–the healthiest person you’ve ever met. In the back of your mind you’re also aware that you’re being an ass, taking advantage of the fact that the hospital for some reason also thinks you’re married. In reality, you’re probably the last person who should have access to his very private information.

It’s impossible not to hear the excitement in her voice as she continues. “Your husband has a condition called dextrocardia, more specifically dextrocardia situs inversus totalis. It means–”

“–His heart is… on the right side of his chest,” you conclude, wide-eyed.

“Yes. Basically, all organs in his chest are mirrored, but since the relation between them isn’t changed, it can go undiagnosed for a long time until you happen to stumble upon it. So when the sharp object penetrated his chest, it missed his heart.”

You don’t know what to say. For a long time, you wished someone would just remove Jeongguk and his friends from your life, and at times, them dying didn’t seem too bad even if you didn’t actively wish for it. But he wasn’t the person you thought he was, was he? Or is, because he’s still alive. You can let the paranoia and fear tell you that he’s still playing some kind of game to win you over, but what he did contradicts everything. They’ve got his health records, his charts, his info, but no one knew. He saw you, how you didn’t even try to move out of the way, just shut your eyes tightly, and he took the blow for you, not knowing that the sword wouldn’t pierce his heart even if aimed at it. You’re not sure what you should be feeling, but you know you’re relieved.

“We called his mother since you were unconscious. She’s on her way.”

You nod. You know you won’t stay long, you just want to see him.

You’re barely breathing when a door is opened in front of you and you’re pushed inside. The lights are on, shining down on him where he’s lying in the same kind of hospital bed you woke up in. The difference is that he’s connected to a whole lot more medical equipment. He’s intubated, tubes are running from his chest to a machine on the floor, and a heart rate monitor beeps quietly and rhythmically besides a few IV’s and drips.

She wheels you right up to his side, and you’re so close that you could reach out and hold his hand.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hear the nurse explain the surgery and what happens next. His lung was punctured in two places, and he lost a lot of blood in a very short time, essentially both bleeding out and drowning in his own blood.

Additionally, she says that the “knife” injured two of his ribs and they had to search for bone fragments and remove them. When she notices you looking at his bandaged hand, she also explains that he’s sustained a non-displaced fracture, but she’s not sure how. You nod, knowing it’s from fighting four of his former friends.

She says that the chest tube is there to transport blood and air away from his lung, allowing it to expand again, that he’s intubated to make sure he gets enough oxygen, and that he’s getting plenty of pain relief, fluids, and antibiotics. His injuries are serious, but luckily–and very much due to his condition–he made it.

He looks tired. Somehow–in probably the most vulnerable moment of his life–he still looks strong, but tired. You guess it makes sense since his body’s been through a lot, but you can't say you like it.

“I’ll leave you alone,” the nurse says softly, and you hear her footsteps as they exit the room, the door closing behind her.

For some time–most likely only two minutes or so–you just watch him. His slow breaths, his hair that’s a bit messy, the intubation equipment sticking out of his mouth, the bandages covering big parts of his chest.

Somehow, this man is not like the others you’ve met. Somehow, he has a sense of right and wrong, even if you’re not sure how well adjusted that sense is. He saved your life, yes, but it doesn’t change a lot between you, does it? You’re not family, and you wouldn't even dare call him a friend.

Looking around the room, you spot a pen on the small table next to him, and behind you, there’s a chair and another table on which a stack of magazines lies.

You stand from the wheelchair, your legs stiff and your entire body tired, and you head toward the magazines, grabbing one and ripping a corner from a page without much text. Then you grab the pen and you sit back down.

A few minutes later, another doctor–what you assume is the surgeon–opens the door and enters with an older and distraught-looking woman behind him. She’s beautiful; dark and a little graying hair, and you immediately spot where jeongguk gets his softer features from.

Her quick steps stop just after entering, and her worried face breaks out into what you’re sure is just a new batch of tears before she’s approaching Jeongguk quickly on the other side of the bed.

“...And we’ll continue to monitor him closely, but we’re hopeful he’ll make a full recovery.”

“Thank you,” she cries, looking like she wants to hug the life right out of her son but doesn’t dare touch him in case she hurts him. In the end, she settles for holding his hand against her chest and stroking his cheek with the other.

“Of course. We’re just down the hall, so come see us or press the button over there in case you need anything.”

You watch the doctor exit the room, and it hits you that you should’ve probably left earlier, before Jeongguk’s mother arrived. She sniffles, and you're not sure what to do or say.

“You work with him?” She looks at you, and you can tell from these few minutes alone how incredibly loved Jeongguk is. “You were with him?”

“Yeah, we’re… colleagues.”

“I figured,” she sniffles again, smiling a little, “They said you were his wife, but as far as I know, he’s not married.”

“No, that’s right. We, uh, were pretending to be. For the job,” you explain vaguely, knowing you probably shouldn’t disclose anything really.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, looking you up and down with worry in her eyes. “I never wanted this for him, to follow in his father’s footsteps. It’s so dangerous.”

It sparks your interest, but you already know Jeongguk's dad is not around anymore, so you don’t want to be disrespectful.

“I just have a bit of a mild concussion,” you explain quietly. It’s certainly mild compared to her son’s condition. “...Jeongguk’s father was an officer too?”

“Yeah. I lost him on the job. He died protecting a civilian woman from gunshots. I lost him, and now I thought I’d lost Jeongguk too.”

Guilt returns to flood your veins. “I’m so sorry.”

You focus your eyes on Jeongguk’s face. “He… saved me,” you admit quietly, “The guy with the… knife, he came for me.”

Carefully, you turn your head slightly to meet her eyes again, almost expecting her to curse you out for not being worth her son’s sacrifice. She doesn’t. There’s some sort of helpless fondness on her face as she returns her eyes to the man lying before her.

“Of course, he did," she wipes a tear away from her cheek. "He makes me proud everyday, but I’m so, so scared. First it’s the motorcycle and then it’s the profession, and it’s all so dangerous, you know?”

“Yeah.” You know exactly how it is worrying, but for your own life. Of course, you’re worried for your friends too, but unless you’re borderline suicidal like Jeongguk and jump in front of a sword, the risks are a lot lower, especially for detectives compared to officers. “I’m really sorry. For Jeongguk and… his dad.”

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault. He’s a grown man, he made the decision himself. As for his dad, it’s a risk you take, loving an officer with his heart in the right place, I guess. Oh! Like Jeongguk? Dextro… cardia, they said?”

You smile, "Yeah."

With a lot of stuff on your mind, you excuse yourself, leaving Jeongguk’s mother to land in her emotions and watch over her son in peace. The wheelchair, you pull behind you through the corridor and back to your own room.

But your room is not as empty as you left it, and you hear your name leave your visitor's lips. Your real name.

“Hoseok?”

He smiles, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. “How are you feeling?”

“Uhm,” you stall, unsure of what to do and practically frozen to the linoleum floor.

“You went and saw him? Je… Jeongguk? Was it? How’s he doing now? Not awake yet, I assume?”

“Yeah… I mean, no, not awake yet. But…”

“You’re wondering what I’m doing here and how I know?”

You only nod, still standing in the doorway. Hoseok gestures toward your bed, “You can sit down, and I’ll explain everything. And maybe you can explain some things to me too, I’m certainly wondering,” he laughs.

You don’t laugh with him. Isn’t he angry?

Noticing your hesitancy, he continues, “I’m not going to hurt you. In fact, I was the one who called the ambulance and brought your clothes and stuff.”

“You did?” You just assumed it was Jihyo, who was already on her way to the house to pick you up according to Jeongguk. You’ll have to call her and see where she is.

“Yeah.”

Slowly, you let go of the wheelchair, and you head toward the bed, sinking down.

“So, how did you know? You came to save us?”

“Well, I had my suspicions that something wasn’t right, so I placed a bug in the hallway when I came over on Friday, and we listened in when we saw those cars pull up and people sneak around. We came over as quickly as we could when we understood you were in danger, and I just saw all the blood and how that man stood over you like that, so I shot him. Not fatally, I think it hit his thigh, and Yoongi shot at one of the others that went for him but I think he dodged it. They left as fast as they could, and we focused on helping you.”

You try to make sense of it all, but you’re not sure it’s really clicking.

“What… what made you suspect we were undercover.”

“We didn’t. We thought he might be abusing you.”

Confusion colors your face. “What?”

“Yeah. Jeongguk… He seemed friendly and all, but you always looked so scared around him. Not to mention that you weren’t sleeping in the same room, and he later showed up with scratches on his arm. I thought maybe you were crying because of him that night, that essentially, he was your terminal illness. I wasn’t sure of course, but I was still worried, and statistically speaking, domestic violence often escalates during pregnancy.”

You look at Hoseok with wide eyes, and maybe something warm and incredibly emotional spreads through your body. You knew the thing about pregnancy and domestic violence but… he? You’re in shock. What is with these men and turning everything you thought you knew upside down?

“You noticed…” you mumble, and he nods.

“So… what did happen?” he asks, sitting down on the chair in the corner of the room. “I mean who were those guys? And why were they after you? I take it Jeongguk wasn’t actually harming you?”

You glance down at your fingers. “Colleagues. And no, he wasn't. It's, uhm, it’s a long story.”

It’s just something about admitting to a man how a fellow man treated you that makes you uncomfortable. It’s shame, you know that as well as the fact that it wasn’t your fault. Still, it doesn’t change your feelings.

“The guy who was going to kill me, he… was my detective partner years ago but… he, well, he, uh… he raped me. I managed to shoot him in self defense and even filed a report but no one took it seriously cause I was in love with him. It’s the ‘official’ version; that I threatened Hoseong with a gun because he didn’t want to be my boyfriend after we slept together. The gun went off, and I was reprimanded by not being allowed to carry anymore."

You watch as Hoseok listens intently, giving you his full attention.

"Everyone still knew, they just didn’t speak of what really happened out in the open. Except, apparently Jeongguk didn’t know. They’ve harassed me ever since but it wasn’t… I mean, it was bad, but not like how it’s been recently. Our chief is retiring, meaning they’re scared they’ll lose their protection. I thought the increase in threats my way meant that they planned for Jeongguk to get rid of me on the mission, but he found out what really happened and went to confront them. They didn’t take it well and probably realized it would be harder to keep him quiet when he didn’t just laugh it off like they hoped, so they… well, they came to kill us both, I guess.”

“Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” you smile humorlessly.

“So what happens now? I mean, one of them has a thigh injury but the others seemed pretty alright.”

You almost chuckle at the mention of Hoseong’s injury, hoping to God it was the other thigh. Or honestly, just whichever thigh hurts him the most.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, where are you staying? Not at home, right?”

“I’ll probably sleep at a friend’s house tonight. And then, my aunt has a place I can stay, I think. Wait. Fenrir?” your eyes go wide.

“He’s at our place, you can come and get him whenever, but we don’t mind watching him if you feel like you need some time.”

“Oh, thank God," you breathe. "No, I’ll probably get him as soon as possible. He’s trained to protect me so I feel safer with him. Not that it went very well, but…”

“Then you should definitely take him as soon as possible. You’re welcome to stay at ours too if you want.”

You narrow your eyes in pure surprise, “I appreciate it but… aren’t you mad that we tried to bust you?”

Hoseok surprises you further when he laughs. “No, you seem like nice people still and considering the circumstances, it’s no big deal. Unless you’re still going to investigate? No offense but I'm not going to jail.”

“No,” you admit, “We do have enough on you to maybe press charges after a bit more… puzzling, but I feel like it makes us at least a little bit even if we drop it. Unless you’re really terrible people and you plan on robbing an orphanage or something. Besides, my days in the business are over, there’s no way for me to go back there.”

He gives you a sad smile. “I promise, we don’t. I have to go, but reach out if you need anything, I left my number there,” he nods toward the small table beside the bed where a piece of paper lies.

“Oh, okay. Hoseok?”

“Mhm?”

“I’m sorry. I know we didn’t talk much, but what you did for me, I’m so grateful. Not only saving us, but looking out for me. Tell Eunha and Hyeji I wasn’t faking being their friend either, it was genuinely nice.”

“Of course.”

He heads toward the door before turning around. “I’m not confessing anything, but hypothetically speaking, would it be so bad if a someone–who’s known to exploit legal loopholes to fuck families and old people over and who single-handedly funds one of the largest human trafficking businesses–lost some money? Money that is essentially returned to some of the victims?”

“Ksung?” you breathe. Hoseok just smiles, and he leaves.

Not long after, a breathless Jihyo bursts through the door, worried eyes finding yours and relief sinking in as she explains how her car broke down on the already long journey out to the neighborhood and how, when she finally got there, there was police tape all around it. Apparently all they could say was that you’d been taken to a hospital but not which, so she had to call all in the area and argue with them to find you.

A knock at the door to his room grabs Jeongguk’s attention, and he tries to call for the person to come in, but it’s quieter and more painful than he’d like. The doctors warned him that it would be hard to speak for a while as he’s still not breathing like he used to.

The person knocking either did hear him, or just decided to enter anyway because the door opens and inside steps Jimin.

“DId you find her?” Jeongguk is quick to ask, voice strained, and he tries to sit up further but winces when there’s stress on his very many stitches.

“Hey, take it easy,” Jimin orders sternly before lifting a hand to run through his dark blonde hair. He’s wearing dark blue jeans and the police academy’s navy sweatshirt compared to Jeongguk who’s managed to get himself into gray sweatpants, his top half bare under the hospital blanket. “No, I haven't, and Jihyo isn’t saying much, just that she doesn’t know the address but that she’s fine and will be laying low for a while.”

Jeongguk bites his lip in frustration. He can’t calm his heart or his mind if he doesn’t even know where you are.

“She’ll be fine, Jeongguk. At least until you’re out of the hospital. If I can’t find her, they’ll have to work really hard in order to. And we haven’t seen a trace of them so they’re probably lying low too.”

There’s some truth to Jimin’s words, but no matter how much he wants to, Jeongguk can’t get himself to wholeheartedly believe it.

“I’ll look further if you promise me you’ll do your best to rest. These kinds of injuries take a whole longer to heal than just a few days.”

Jimin gestures toward Jeongguk’s chest, and Jeongguk nods. Fine. He guesses he could be out of the hospital earlier if he tries not to worry. And yeah, he can try.

Jimin soon leaves the hospital to go back to the station, the station a town over where Jeongguk also used to work before moving and transferring. When he’s alone, Jeongguk unfolds the little piece of magazine paper he found when he searched the pockets of the pants hanging over a chair in the back of the room, the same ones he’d been wearing during the attack.

Thank you for what you did. You definitely shouldn’t have, and apparently the only reason you didn’t die is because you have a condition where your heart is on the wrong side of your chest or something, but thank you. I’m leaving, but I wanted to let you know that I’m grateful for what you did and relieved that you survived.

Imagining you on your own somewhere increases Jeongguk’s heart rate, but he tries to focus his mind on what lies ahead. He has a lot of stuff to do.

Ever since the day you arrived at the little townhouse with a suitcase and your dog, things have been different. Easier in some ways, harder in others.

The house is nice. Your aunt doesn’t spend a lot of time there, but it’s furnished and very cozy, especially as summer turns to fall and the days get shorter. It’s quiet. Both your environment and your life. Occasionally, you speak to Jihyo, Sana, or your mother on your new phone, and sometimes, you share a word with the elderly neighbors. The silence is just what you needed and what calms you the best, the constant fear you’ve lived in having taken its toll on your mind and body.

Sure, it’s a bit lonely, especially when Fenrir leaves you, but you don’t mind the loneliness all that much even if you miss him, and the days still pass at the same pace as always. Luckily, as the new chief, Jihyo put you on paid leave, so money is the least of your problems. What’s the biggest problem is that you’re still not safe.

Someone that doesn’t like you knows where you are, and even though you try not to worry too much about stuff that you can’t influence, you still don’t go out later than you have to and you focus on your surroundings.

A few days after the attack, the four men were all apprehended. Junseo didn’t even try to run, just waited for police to grab him at his home. Hoseong tried to escape but was forced to seek medical care for his gunshot wound and so they got him at the hospital. Then, with the help of Hoseong’s phone, they lured out Ryung and Seunghwan too. None of them were saying much.

Jihyo and Sana fill you in on what’s going on at the very busy station, sending you long texts to read when you have the energy, but you honestly can’t find it in you to care that much. Still, it’s a big story, and sometimes you keep the TV on even after it switches from a baking show to another press conference regarding the investigation and fall of one of the most corrupt police departments in the country.

And you see him.

He stands at the wooden podium, always at the forefront and often with Jihyo, and he looks just like the image you have of him. Not how you last saw him, but wide awake and focused.

You know some people would call you names for not being there, but why would you? Jeongguk can testify about what happened that night, and they have your report from two years ago to tell that story.

Despite what Jeongguk said about not everyone knowing what happened to you, you know that they did. At least ninety-five percent or so did know and either partook in the harassment or turned a blind eye, and how are you supposed to know which? Even if they managed to investigate and fire all the bad men–which is honestly impossible–you don’t want to be gawked at, not by your colleagues and not by the entire country.

The interviews and press conferences increase in frequency and duration as they reveal that three out of the four men, apprehended for a whole list of crimes including attempted murder, have escaped.

It’s the last day of October, two days after the big headlines, when you’re trudging home through the falling darkness, a grocery bag in each hand. You try not to be out so late, but you’d completely forgotten to go grocery shopping, so you decided to take a risk and walk to the closest convenience store seven minutes away.

But as you’re nearing your street, passing under glowy circle after circle of street light illuminance, you stop. Fifty yards in front of you, right outside the closest ring of light, a man stands. He’s dressed in black, and there’s something dark over his head too. You’ve passed young trick or treaters and a few men and women in Halloween costumes too, but this feels… wrong.

He takes a step forward, and immediately, you drop both bags to the ground, your shaky hand reaching into the pocket of your jacket.

“I have a knife,” you call out in warning.

The man quickly waves his hands in front of him before he lifts them both to his head, stepping into the light. The black shiny thing comes off, and… it’s Jeongguk, holding the motorcycle helmet in his hand.

“It’s just me,” he explains, holding one palm out.

“Jeongguk?”

As if he’s trying not to make too sudden movements, he walks toward you. Realizing he probably won’t hurt you, you place the pocket knife back and bend down to gather the apples that rolled out of the grocery bag.

You hear his footsteps nearing before you see him crouch in front of you to help with the other bag. Despite knowing you’re (probably) not in any danger at the moment, your hands still shake. Your experiences have fucked you up, and calming down is hard.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, I was just waiting for you.”

You’re not sure if him being there is good or bad, but your chest still aches at his words. You realize that you missed his voice, the last two times you saw him being when he was unconscious.

“Waiting for me, why?” you ask quietly without looking at him. Jihyo has told you that Jeongguk’s asked about you–especially in the beginning–wanting to know where you are and how you are, but you’ve only told her to say that you’re fine.

With the bag’s contents inside them again, you stand up, not fighting Jeongguk when he keeps one of them to carry, himself.

“I had to see you,” he says. “I need to talk to you.”

<previous | next>

author's note: SIKE, PALS <3 anewhey i hope you liked the surprise update! :D come scream at me about it <3

could we get a drabble of after that little argument they had 🥺🩵 like an apology or something WAAAH

PART 1

Jungkook's brows rise at your final words, his nose flaring as he watches you leave, the door closing silently. Even if you were mad, you showed respect for his poor neighbours who must have heard some of your argument.

Thankfully, none of them walk out at the same time as you

He just shakes his head, heading towards his kitchen, downing a full glass of water to calm down. This was not the way he expected the night to go. His gaze is drawn to his spare Harley keys, which are lying on the corner of the isle. Should he take a drive?

No. Not in this condition.

A curse leaves his pierced lips

Looking up, he notices the dark sky–it was already way to late, and your way home was far from quick. His breathing becomes laboured. He might be angry, but he is not going to be a bad boyfriend and let you leave alone.

Without thinking, he snatches his keys and storms down the steps, ignoring the lift. Fortunately, he spots you at the building's door, on your phone and probably about to call an Uber.

"Y/n," he exhales, slowing your motions as you turn around to face him. Theres a small tear in the corner of your eye, but he choses to ignore it. Maybe this wasnt the time to talk things out. He shuts his eyes and tilts his head before speaking up, "Let me drive you home."

You're quite quiet. Too quiet for his liking, but he's not surprised. He understands

Your eyes gaze to the floor, thinking.

"Okay," you agree, surprising him even if thats exactly the answer he wanted.

The journey home is quiet, not that you could chat anyway, but there was typically a peaceful atmosphere–when he was at a stoplight, you'd hold him tightly from behind, playing with his hand and hugging his waist. There was none of that today. The only sound in the air was the cold night wind.

"Thank you," you mumble as Jungkook parks near your house, helping you off the bike and squeezing your waist closer to him, his forehead against yours.

"Night," he murmurs quietly against your lips

You simply hum. "Good Night"

???? WHAT IS HE DOING😳😳😳😳😳