He Is Illegal And Dangerous

He is illegal and dangerous

JUNGKOOK — 'Seven' exclusive photos

HIS ARMS 🫣

HOLY.

HELL.

I was not prepared. That was …

between takes | 03

as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard.

pairing: porn star!jk x f fluffer!reader

genre: porn star au, fluff, angst, smut

word count: 6k

warnings: smut in the form of head (f receiving), slight handjob, games

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 3/5 

<previous | next>

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

He stills when he spots you, and your eyes meet for a few seconds. It hurts because you don’t have anything to say to him, and he can’t tell you anything that would change the situation, either. You turn your head back to the girls in front of you, who are laughing loudly at something you missed.

Though, it doesn’t take long before you hear a voice call your name. Everyone at the table quiets down, and you do as well, turning your head.

Jeongguk looks… good. Strong, honest… he looks… worried and almost bothered by something but not scared to stand in front of you and your coworkers with everyone’s eyes on him.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks, not tearing his gaze away from you. 

“Uh… sure,” you answer, looking apologetically at your surprised but not overly concerned friends and Doyoung as you slide off his lap. “I’ll be right back.”

Jeongguk waits until he sees you near him, and then you’re following someone outside for the second time that night. Your thoughts are all over the place. What does he want to talk about? What did Wendy say to him? 

You can’t deny that your heart skips a beat, being in his presence. Even more so when he holds the door open for you, and you very well could simply reach out and touch him. Maybe his chest, surely warm and firm even through his black t-shirt, or his strong and capable arms.

Ever since you first met him, you’ve felt an insane pull to him, and it’s not much better now. It’s like it’s twice as intense, like your longing for him only increases it, and you have to stop yourself from reaching for him. It would feel so nice, though, to warm your cold hands against his skin, run them up his chest and down his back underneath his shirt.

When outside, he keeps walking until you’re at the corner of the building where he turns to you but doesn’t immediately say anything. You’d almost forgotten how it feels to be in his presence, to have him look down at you in front of him. 

“So… what did you want to talk about?” you ask, your voice sounding more confused than you’ve started to feel. After all, how many topics could he choose between?

“How are you?”

You blink, unsure if that’s what he really wanted to ask but feeling like you don’t want to push it. “I’m… good. How are you?”

“I’m alright. Been missing you.”

You take on a slightly skeptical expression, feeling like his warm but slightly careful words don’t really belong between the two of you, at least not from his side.

“You didn’t want me there, Jeongguk,” you remind him, unable to keep the frustration from leaking through your words. “You didn’t even tell me you had feelings for someone before you made the decision.”

In turn, his voice turns frustrated too, although less angry. “Yeah, cause I overheard you, and it fucking broke my heart. I loved you, but I was nothing to you, just a porn star.”

“What?” Your mind halts, trying to understand what he’s trying to say. “Jeongguk, you were the only reason I stayed as long as I did; I already told you that.”

“Then why would you tell Wendy you’d never date someone like me? You don’t think I’m good enough for you.”

You’re transported back to the last day you spent on ‘good’ terms. 

You zip up your jacket, then meet Wendy’s eyes sadly. “I do like him, I think he’s… great and really sweet, but… he’s a porn star, Wendy.”

Wendy bites her lip looking at you like she understands. 

“I just… can’t. Not a porn star.”

“I get it, I just think it’s a shame,” she says, lifting her bag to reveal a small box on the floor.

“Oh, aren’t those Jeongguk’s?” you say, bending down to pick it up, “I’m pretty sure these are his earbuds.”

“You turned back for your earbuds, didn’t you?” you conclude after putting the pieces together.

Jeongguk looks sad and disappointed, his frustration turned low. “Yeah. I thought we had… something. But how could I continue to work with you when you not only didn’t feel remotely the same as I did, but I would never be good enough for you because of my profession?”

You’re not surprised he took what he heard the way he did; after all, not everything was said out loud and much of the conversation was contextual. It just wasn’t meant for him to hear, and you hadn’t thought he had.

“I didn’t look down on you…” you try to explain, finally realizing why he did what he did. Somewhere in the back of your mind is also the fact that he just confessed to liking you. Or at least back then.

”Forget about it. It’s fine. I get it, it’s not for everyone, I was just hurt–”

“–I’m a stubborn, insecure bitch, alright? That’s why I didn’t tell you I liked you. You’re practically perfect; you’re sweet and kind and funny, and insanely hot, and you fuck other hot people for a living. How would I handle that? I couldn’t, so I never said anything.”

It’s his turn to have a realization, and for a moment, he looks to be searching for words.

Finally, he regains his thoughts, and as he takes a step closer, you notice the change in atmosphere. The increasing intensity brewing in his eyes is slow and gradual but strong like a tidal wave. 

“That guy…? Are you with him?” he asks, and his voice is lower than mere moments ago.

It’s worse now, the heat of his body pulling you in like the strongest magnet. “No,” you breathe. “And you’re not with Joy?”

He shakes his head. “I lied.”

Slowly, he lifts his hand to run his fingers softly along your jaw, keeping them there as he steps so close you can smell his cologne. “If you don’t kiss me now, I–”

Of course, you want to. You want and you wish and you desire, and maybe you would’ve even if you were entirely sober, but the relatively small amount of alcohol in your system makes it an easier decision. Perhaps it’s not the best decision, but you physically can’t stop yourself, knowing that he wants you too.

Swiftly, you grab his cap, putting it on your own head but backward, and you can confidently say that nothing has felt as right or as natural as throwing your arms around Jeongguk’s neck, and from the tips of your toes, connecting your lips to his.

You close your eyes, and you enjoy the softness of his lips, the taste of him, and the feeling of his arms pulling you closer by your waist. You just can’t get enough of him, wanting more and more and more. You let one of your hands venture below his shirt and up his toned stomach, pulling at his hair with the other as you tilt your head to get a better angle. Jeongguk groans, moving you backward against the brick wall until your back hits it. It’s an urgent kiss, lips moving hastily like you’ve been waiting for something for far too long or like you’re running out of time. 

Biting his bottom lip, you pull back half an inch. His chest moves with every breath against you, and the audible breath he lets out is so desperate and horny you’re not sure what to do with yourself.

You let go, laughing giddily, both in relief and surprise, before going right back to kissing him. This time, he urges your lips apart with his tongue, licking into your mouth. Unsurprisingly, he tastes a little of beer and some other alcoholic beverage, or maybe that’s also from you. Moving his hand, he pulls you flush against him by your waist.

“My place?” he asks after pulling away breathless, his lips ghosting the corner of your mouth. “It’s not far, like a six minute walk. Four if we hurry.”

You smile wide, face flushed and lips surely already swollen. When you peer up at him, still with your arms around his neck, you really see what you missed so much since you quit. Dark, almost black eyes, honeyed skin, the dark and defined eyebrows, and the most attractive nose. 

“Yes, but I’m like a ten second power walk away from getting blisters from these shoes just so you know.”

“Okay, there are, like, three options you can choose from,” he informs cheekily, smiling down at you in a way that has goosebumps rising on your skin. “Either I carry you, you power through and have me bandage you up later, or I fuck you in the next alleyway over.”

Heat spreads through your body, and your heart is going haywire as you try to keep your cool.

“How romantic.”

“I don’t care, I only need you.”

“Do you?” you tease, running a hand down his chest and toward his pants. After leaning sideways to peer behind him and confirm you’re alone, you dip your hand beneath the waistband of both his jeans and underwear.

He breathes a shaky breath when you touch him. Like always, he’s warm, and he’s big, and although he’s not rock solid, he’s definitely… firm. You run your thumb over the head, watching with a smile as Jeongguk’s heavy-lidded eyes stare you down.

“Continue like that and I’ll have to bend you over something right here.”

You gaze up at him somewhat innocently, jerking even slower than you used to. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Fuck. Can we go?” he almost pleads, shutting his eyes in pleasure and leaning his forehead against the side of your head. “I’m about to go crazy.”

You let go of him, pulling your hand out of his pants and nodding eagerly. God knows you’re just as affected as he is. Sure, continuing to tease him outside a bar like this sounds fun, but it’s nothing compared to the thought of having all of him, sweating above you, underneath you, inside you…

“I need to grab my jacket and bag.”

“I… need my jacket as well.”

Wiping your mouth and running your fingers underneath your eyes in case of any makeup smudges, you step back. “How do I look? I gotta look believable when I lie about going home because I don’t feel too good or something.”

“Heart-breakingly gorgeous,” he grins, lifting his hand to reclaim the cap you’d forgotten was on your head. He puts it on himself, adjusting it slightly. “What about me?”

Licking your lips, you inspect him briefly. Sure, his face looks a little bit flushed but not abnormally so after a night out. Your heart is beating way too fast, and you feel… high. 

There just isn’t anyone as attractive to you, no one you want more. 

“Stupidly hot. Like someone I’d almost let bend me over something and fuck me in an alleyway.”

He laughs, and you continue, “Maybe it’s the cap. You know I love it when you wear caps.”

“I know,” he grins.

Jeongguk surprises you by pulling you into him by your waist quickly, tilting his head to not poke you with the cap, and noses at your ear. “Be quick.”

Goosebumps rise on your entire body again, and when he lets go, you nod. “Meet back here in a minute or two?”

“Yeah.”

Body on fire from the inside, you search your brain for the best excuse. It’s not that you’d be ashamed of sleeping with a porn star but you feel like a bad friend for ditching your company, even though hanging out is a common occurrence and you spent time together after work only a few days ago. 

The booth is chatting wildly about something when you return, and so you approach quietly, not wanting everyone’s eyes on you for your performance.

Lisa, who’s on the far end of one side, and Doyoung, who’s at the other side, of course notice your return, their eyes watching you curiously. 

Doing your best to appear serious, maybe even a little… sad, or maybe disappointed, you keep your voice low. “I’ve gotta go. It seems me and him have a lot to talk about.”

“Oh?” Lisa raises her eyebrows, “You sure? He’s a good guy, right?”

“Yeah,” you nod assuringly because Jeongguk is definitely one of the good guys. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, we just need to… sort out some stuff as to why I quit and such.”

“Just call if you need anything,” Doyoung informs earnestly.

Once again, you nod, thankful to have good friends, maybe even better friends than you deserve tonight. On your way back out, your denim jacket unbuttoned over your shirt and with your bag in hand, you feel bad. It’s mostly for lying at this point, but the feeling is soon forgotten when you spot Jeongguk leaning against the wall after you’ve stepped outside. He’s wearing a jacket of his own, a black, oversized bomber jacket.

“Hi,” you smile, feeling almost giddy.

“Hey,” he returns, quick to push off the wall and look around. “What did you tell them?”

“That I left with you to talk everything out. Think they bought it. You?”

“The same, basically.”

“Okay…”

Half a second later, he’s approaching you quickly, grabbing your hand in his, “Come on, we should hurry.”

You laugh, letting him pull you with him. It’s not like you want it any less than he does. “Or what?”

He looks both ways before pulling you behind him across the street.

“Well, if I don’t have you in, say, ten minutes or so…”

A good kind of thrilling chill runs down your spine, and you quicken your step. “We’ll have to hurry then. This way?”

He confirms with a nod, and you walk in front of him, soon reaching another, deserted crosswalk and traffic light.

Before you can press the button, Jeongguk pulls you back by your hand, and somehow and very smoothly, spins you around so that you’re once again facing the traffic light.

However, your arm is wrapped across your stomach, and your back is pressed against his front. You hear the sound of the button being pushed next to you, and you feel him press himself even further into you. 

With no one around, you close your eyes, reveling in the quiet breath that ghosts your ear. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

The sound of a car nearing has him untwirling you to face him, still holding your hand. The black car passes, but your moment alone is over as voices approach from behind. Peering behind him, you spot a group of young people, a lot more inebriated than you, closing in. The light turns green, and you start to cross.

Despite the ‘hurry’ you’re in, the group consisting of around seven people are faster, and after crossing the street, Jeongguk pulls you to the side with him to let the unruly party-goers pass.

You stand beside him, innocently placing your palm on his stomach while you watch the people–who look like they’re celebrating someone’s birthday–walk past you along the main street. You can’t help yourself, moving your hand in under his shirt instead and feeling his warm skin and defined muscles. 

“And you don’t think I’ve wanted you, or what?”

“I can’t answer that,” he says, groaning when you pinch his left nipple slightly.

“What? You said it yourself, that you thought–knew–we had something. Of course, I wanted you.”

“Mhm,” is all he says when you look up at him, bewildered.

“What is it that you’re not telling me? I’ll pinch harder if you don’t tell me. I’ll make you suffer.”

Jeongguk laughs at your warning, “You know I’m highkey into that, though.”

You’re about to deliver a double handed attack on his chest when he grabs both of your hands. You’re forced to follow when he starts to back away into a side street. 

“Where are we going? I thought it was that way?”

“It is, I just..” he positions you with your back against the wall of a building whose corner you just rounded, and he steps closer, letting go of your hands in order to push his body even closer to you. “I have a question.”

You feel his hands rest on your hips, and he wedges one knee in between your legs. You drop your bag, and it ends up on the pavement beside your feet with a low thud.

“Okay.”

“The contract. Your preferences. Is that… what…”

It’s in the way he licks his lips but still looks down at you in earnest. You’ve made out, but otherwise, it’s really only been you touching him. 

You take a second to collect your words, smiling as you explain. “I wasn’t sure when I started, and I didn’t change anything because if you were to touch me, I think I would’ve gone insane.”

“I mean… I definitely suspect they would’ve had to physically pull me away from you if you would’ve let me touch you, so maybe it was for the best. I would’ve lived between your thighs.”

Another wave of heat spreads through your body as you image the vision of him between your legs, both fucking you and eating you out. You’ve seen him do both acts countless times, have heard the sounds of pleasure echoing through the different sets.

One of his hands inches down from your hip to where the front pocket of your jeans ends. “So my question, I guess, is… what about now?”

You can barely think, but you know from the way he still looks so genuinely patient that he’s not doing anything else if you’re not clear with him. 

Despite never having any problems with it before and making it pretty clear he wanted to sleep with you, you feel bad for not asking him before putting your hand down his pants earlier.  

“Disregard them. I don’t want to be choked or intentionally hurt, and I’m not into anal, but besides that, if it’s not too crazy, do it.”

“Of course. Tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable.”

You nod your head, and he turns his, looking around. The street is empty, and so he returns his attention to you, continuing to move his hand. Just like you expected, he runs it directly to your crotch, tracing the middle seam in your jeans. Your hands move by themselves to grip at his shirt, and when he puts pressure right on your clit, your knees nearly buckle and you gasp.

“Oh my God,” he breathes at your reaction, licking his lips hungrily. Instantly spreading your legs wider with his knee, he repeats the action but faster, seemingly drunk on your body’s response. The overwhelming pleasure has you leaning your head back against the wall, your eyes closing and your mouth opening as you breathe faster.

“Jeongguk…” you moan quietly. He’s everything you see, hear, feel. 

“Fuck. You’re so responsive,” he groans, “How are you real? We should stop, we need to stop. I’d love to make you come in your pants, but I think I’d come in my pants too.”

Slowly, he stops and moves his hand back to your hip, clearly very affected. “I just know you’re wet. So soaked and turned on that anything I’d line up would sink right in. I bet you could even take my cock without any sort of prep.”

“You’re kind of a monster, though,” you say, fisting his shirt in your hand.

He chuckles, “I’m not that big. Just slightly above average.”

“Slightly above average for male porn stars. Who, naturally, are already above average. I don’t think anyone could take anything that size without prep.”

He rolls his eyes, “I was trying to dirty talk; of course I’m not just gonna shove it in. We’ll do it at your pace.”

“In that case, I probably am wet enough that it’ll slide just in,” you say, continuing his dirty talk. “Warm and wet, just for you.”

Almost like he can’t control it, his hand starts inching back down slowly, “And I bet you taste divine, like absolute heaven, fuck–we need to hurry.”

Once again removing his hand, he now takes a step back, grabbing your hands and pulling you away from the wall. What you don’t quite expect him to do is let go of you and bend down to throw you over his shoulder, grabbing your bag too.

“Jeongguk?!”

“I don’t want you to get blisters, but don’t worry, we’re not too far away now.”

You have an inkling that maybe he was worried your legs wouldn’t carry you, which… they would, but you would’ve definitely needed a few seconds to collect yourself.

The rest of the journey takes a little more than a minute–at least according to your half-sober calculations. Jeongguk can’t keep his hands off of you, patting both your ass and your thighs and making you giggle.

Occasionally, you pass some people, but you assume the reason no one is stopping him to check on you is due to your regular laughter. You, however, don’t even notice most of them before you see legs somewhere in your peripherals.

When you’re finally let down, you’re already inside the dark hallway of Jeongguk’s apartment. You brush the hair out of your eyes, instantly coming face to face with the man himself, who cages you in against the wall. It’s either one of his favorite things to do or he just associates you with the position; after all, it’s how you spent a lot of time on set.

He throws away his cap and sheds his jacket into a pile on the floor before he helps you out of yours, which then meets a similar fate.

“You’ve seen me naked so many times,” he murmurs, tugging a little on the neckline of your shirt.

“Probably more naked than clothed.”

“Exactly. So I think it’s only fair…”

“Then undress me,” you quip, moving away to back into the rest of the apartment with his hand held loosely in yours. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Second to the right. You know, I think this is the best day of my life.”

Grinning, you lead him into the room, tearing your eyes away from his to briefly take in your new surroundings. The room is large, and there’s a big bed against one of the white-painted walls. It’s clean, but you can tell Jeongguk isn’t a neat freak because the duvet is pulled up somewhat haphazardly with no bedspread in sight, there’s a few items of clothing hanging over a dark blue loveseat in the corner, and a gaming console and a few game cases lie on the floor underneath the huge wall-mounted TV. 

“Adult film business pays well, I see?”

When you turn your attention back to him, he’s still watching you, shrugging halfheartedly. “I’ve got what I need. Now, at least.”

“How romantic,” you repeat your words from earlier. 

Jeongguk chuckles, helping you out of your shirt and tossing it in the direction of the loveseat. Immediately, you tug on his black t-shirt as well, and he yanks it over his head in a swift motion, dropping it to the floor. 

“I’d consider myself a romantic guy, yeah.”

You roll your eyes, letting him reach behind you to unhook your black lace bra, something he does effortlessly and with one hand. The back of your knees then hit the edge of his bed, and you go down.

“You’re even better than how I imagined you,” he swears, his hungry eyes on the way your tits bounce.

“You’ve imagined me naked?” you tease, crawling higher up on the bed.

He follows you, climbing onto the bed to stand on all fours above you. When you reach a hand out, touching his sternum, he sits back, seemingly wanting to take in the sight of you properly.

“I think you should strip for me,” you propose cheekily, making Jeongguk raise his eyebrow.

“Strip? I’m a porn star, not a stripper.”

“If I remember correctly, you played a stripper like a year ago. I know you can dance.”

“I promise I’ll dance for you next time, but the more urgent stripping is yours to do.”

You roll your eyes jokingly again, to which Jeongguk smirks, leaning down to kiss you passionately. 

Wrapping your arms around him, you tangle your fingers in the silver chain he wears around his neck. He continues to kiss you, but moves from your mouth to your jaw and then your neck. 

It’s addictive, the warmth of him against your skin, and you’re so desperate to have him close, wanting to feel every little part of him. His warm mouth on your pulse point has goosebumps rising on your body.

Continuing his journey, he kisses his way down to your breasts, groaning before enveloping your right nipple in his mouth. You moan quietly, moving a hand to his hair and keeping the other on his back.

He’s gentle in the way he kisses, sucks and bites on your nipple, using his other hand to pinch your left one between his fingers.

Way too soon, he lets go, and you open your eyes to see him looking down at you, just an inch or two away.

“You can’t leave any marks on me,” he reminds softly, and you blink, realizing your hold on his back caused your nails to form those half-moon marks on his skin.

You’re quick to let go, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles reassuringly, lowering his head and his main focus to your other breast, placing small kisses around your left nipple. “You know, if it were up to me, I’d let you leave all the marks.”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly, saddened by the reminder that he’s not yours. Even if he might want to be, which you’re not entirely sure of, you can’t make him yours. You focus on the feeling of his soft hair between your fingers.

Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice, and you don’t dwell on it too long as he unbuttons your jeans.

“Can I?” he stops to wonder, gazing up at you.

“Go ahead,” you nod, and he hooks his fingers into the belt loops, pulling them down your legs.

“To actually answer your question, of course, I’ve imagined you naked. I’ve imagined you on set, fucking you instead of them, I’ve imagined you at home, here in my bed, letting me do whatever I want to you.”

His smirk has you pulling a little on his hair. “Well, you obviously don’t know me very well if you think I’d just ‘let you do whatever you want to me.’”

“I know.”

With your jeans removed, you’re left in nothing but a matching, black lace thong. “In fact, I think I remember saying that someone should fuck the brat out of you, and it looks like it might have to be me.”

You let go of his hair and lift your feet as he then slides your panties down your legs. Looking hypnotized, Jeongguk traces his fingers across your knees and licks his lips. 

“I mean, you can try. But right now, I gotta taste you before I go insane,” he says, putting his hands on your raised knees, intending on spreading them for his eyes.

“Nuh uh,” you object, scooting higher up on his bed and keeping your legs closed. “Not with that attitude.”

Jeongguk’s eyes go big and round, and it almost makes you laugh. 

You definitely feel desired, holding so much power in your hands. “You want to?”

“In this moment? More than anything in the world,” he admits in what sounds like pure honesty.

The smile that spreads across your lips is almost wicked. “Then you’ll have to follow my orders.”

“You’re evil,” he lets out, sounding almost like a whine, “what do I have to do?”

You laugh at his misery, trying to think of a plan and settling on one with a smirk. “I need you to answer a question first.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“How close?”

He looks at you, bewildered. “As close as possible?” 

“Hm, okay. You might regret that. Stand.”

Obeying without much thought, Jeongguk stands up, watching you intently and waiting for his next instructions. You take a second to admire him in the low light, no shirt and his jeans hanging low on his hips. He looks so warm, and you feel like you definitely won’t have the patience to tease him too much because you need his body against yours or you’ll freeze.

Your eyes trail upward, over his muscular chest to his arms and the veins that run across them. His tattoos look much darker in the low light, but you know them like the back of your hand anyway.

The silver chain around his neck is on the shorter side, begging for you to pull him in by. There’s a confident smile on his face, as he watches you check him out. Maybe you’ll definitely also pull him in by his hair.

If only he knew exactly how goddamn unbelievably wet you are for him, and the kind of absolute need and desire you feel for him. It’s a thrill and a goddamn confidence boost to know that it’s you having him follow orders just for the chance to pleasure you. It’s you he wants to be with, at least physically and at least in this moment.

“I want you to kneel by the end of the bed.”

Wordlessly, he sinks to his knees, keeping eye contact with you where you sit higher up on the bed, your legs still closed for him.

“Before I say so, you can not touch.”

He doesn’t have time to say anything before you slowly open your legs, and you almost laugh at how quickly his attention is turned from your face to your wet pussy.

To taunt him, you hold your middle finger in the air and then lower it to slowly and lightly run it up your slit. It feels good, the touch of your finger is almost electric, and the anticipation of having him somewhere right there is fueling your heartbeat all by itself.

Miserable, Jeongguk rests his cheek defeatedly against the bed. “I want you,” he complains.

“You’re a brat, though,” you remind, making a show out of touching yourself oh so slowly.

“I’m not. I’m good. I’m so good for you.”

“In the moment, yeah. Do you remember what your answer was?”

His eyes flicker to yours, and seeing the smug smile on your lips, he groans in what sounds like pain.

You close your legs, and Jeongguk sits up straighter, watching as you crawl toward him, stopping to sit in front of him with your legs to the right of him and your weight supported by your left arm.

“Remember, no touching.”

And so you swing your left leg over his head, resting both legs on his shoulders.

Immediately, he grabs your thighs, seemingly holding on for dear life. Since you technically touched him first, you guess you’ll allow it. “You’re the devil,” he breathes, eyes fixated on your sex and how it’s dripping for him just inches away. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to a poor, desperate man.”

Testing the waters, he blows on your cunt, but you do your best to ignore the sensation that has goosebumps rising on your arms. Instead, you put your finger right back, showing him just how you like your pussy touched. A moan slips from your lips as you circle your clit, breaths growing heavy when you instead lower your finger to slowly push inside.

“Because I want you to surrender.”

Suddenly grabbing your hand, Jeongguk holds it in the air and watches the wetness glint on your finger. He licks his lips, using his hand to guide your finger into his mouth.

But you’re not letting him, pulling your hand back from his open and awaiting mouth. “Uh uh.”

“Do you not want me to eat you out until you come? Stuff you full of my fingers? My cock?” he questions, eyes lowering to practically devour what’s in front of his face. 

“Of course, I do,” you admit honestly, even the thought making your head spin, “but first you–”

Despite boasting about the amount of sub roles he’s done, Jeongguk is not the best sub, evident by the way he suddenly pulls you closer toward him and dives face first into your pussy. You shriek, caught by surprise and then immediately overwhelmed by pleasure as he eats the hell out of you.

“Oh fuck,” you moan shakily, your hips moving by their own accord as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

“I’ll make you come so hard for doing that to me,” he pauses for a brief second to warn, as if that’s a punishment for you.

You shut your eyes tightly, arching your back off the bed as he continues french kissing your cunt. 

“How many times am I going to make you come tonight?” he wonders, his words strained. While he talks, you feel him put an intense pressure on your clit with his finger and slowly sink another into you. “Five is too little, but eight seems like overkill, at least tonight. Maybe next time. So, somewhere in between? Should we start at six? I want you to wake up tomorrow, after all.”

For a few seconds, you let him go back to desperately eating you out, slowly pumping his middle finger in and out of you, but his cheeky words and attitude have you thinking. He seems to enjoy the prospect of making you come over and over again almost a little too much, and isn't he the one who should be punished for failing to follow orders?

Your breaths are shallow, shaky, as he practically overwhelms you with his tongue, holding your hips as still around his head as possible.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, and you really don’t want him to stop because you’ve never felt this good and honestly, this desired and in love, but it will be worth it, you tell yourself.

“Stop,” you muster up an order, your voice breathy as the tension in your lower belly grows a little too quickly. 

He does, removing both his face and hand from you and looking at you with wide, almost worried eyes. “Why? Are you alright?”

You try your best to catch your breath, rising to your elbows to get a proper look at him.

“You can’t make me come.”

His worry turns more into confusion, “What do you mean? Of course I can.”

“No, I meant you’re not allowed to,” you grin, watching him piece it together, “cause you chose not to follow orders.” 

Jeongguk wraps both arms around your thighs again, holding them tightly, “So it’s not that you don’t want to continue this, but you just feel like denying me that pleasure because I didn’t follow your stupid orders?”

Your grin widens in confirmation. He uses his arms to spread your thighs further in front of him, redirecting his eyes down to your cunt.

“Your rules, are they the same as before?”

“I don’t know, I just want you to follow my instructions.”

“No, not those. Your rules; no choking, hurting, anal, or anything too weird, are they the same?”

“Oh. Yeah,” you confirm with a nod.

“You’re familiar with the color system of safe words?”

You raise your eyebrow at him, watching him still staring intently at your pussy laid bare in front of him. It looks like it’s taking all his concentration and willpower not to attack it.

“You mean red for ‘stop,’ yellow for ‘hold on, something’s not right,’ and green for ‘keep going?’”

“Yeah,” he answers, looking up to give you such a heated gaze, you feel yourself throb. “Cause if you want to deny me, you’re gonna have to fight me. I’ll have your six orgasms, thank you very much.”

<previous | next>

author's note: so... anyway, how's the weather where you're at?

Man, I love this story. The evolution of understanding and empathizing that is going on between these two is insanely cathartic and beautiful. The clarification of misunderstandings and truly working through it and coming to truly see each other.

I absolutely love how justice is coming for all the assholes too. I just hope justice is fully served with all those guys involved in the stabbing!

Ps. The way I couldn’t help repeating in my head over and over “kiss, kiss, kiss!” At the end. Oh my god!!! Feeling his scars?!?! Shut up! I love this story sooooo much!!

dextrocardia | 12

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

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

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

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

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

word count: 6.6k

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

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 12/? 

<previous | next>

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm?”

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

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

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

You consider his words. “Thank you.”

You were right.

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jimin.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. Just… have a lot on my mind.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“–Would you have let me go?”

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

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

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

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

“But?”

You exhale, feeling your shoulders drop slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Weird, why would you drive his car?

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

Oh. He opened the door for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No problem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Footsteps stop next to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We should do something.”

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

“Do… what?”

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

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

“Teach me how to bake?”

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

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

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

“And that is?”

“Okay, uhm, eggs? And… butter?”

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

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

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

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

“Coming right up.”

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

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

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

“Everything okay?”

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

“Sleep with me in my bed?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s okay. Thank you, though.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to try baking some more.”

From confused, his features turn to understanding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

Which means that he’s left shirtless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I–I…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oils?”

“That make them less noticeable.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I probably wouldn’t have believed you.”

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

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

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

Jeongguk chuckles at your colorful description, “Yeah.”

Even so, he still looks so… sweet.

<previous | next>

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

JUNGKOOK I AM NOT YOUR STRONGEST SOLDIER

230928 - bts on tiktok (4)

Dang! I love this story! I don’t want to love JK but I totally do and after the last couple lives in bed I’m totally imagining that for OC. Sheesh. Such a great story so far and looking forward to getting to know Hobi’s character. The scene with the handcuffs was hilarious and a fun turn. Thank you for sharing this story with us!

dextrocardia | 03

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 for this part: if it wasn't clear before, i don't know how law enforcement really works so i made my own 🤪 there aren't anything serious in this part, just a bit of sexism. well, jk is still very hot 😅

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 3/? 

<previous | next>

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

For the next three days, you’re entirely focused on the Jung house. The goal of surveying it can be divided into two; find out when it’s empty and which window isn’t hooked up to a sensor.

Thanks to Jeongguk, you know that the men all get together at Kim Namjoon’s house on Thursdays to play poker, but what complicates it is that Jeongguk is supposed to attend it as well. Additionally, you don’t know what Eunha’s doing at that time, either.

The majority of those three days, you spend on the top floor with your binoculars. It’s more what you’re used to anyway; observing from a distance. 

Sure, occasionally, it gets boring, but the nice thing about investigating a feline and its window preferences is that it doesn’t matter if you take a five minute break or ten. 

Additionally, you don’t have to spend a lot of time with Jeongguk, who’s out befriending the male neighbors. If anyone asks about you, he’s supposed to tell them you’re feeling a bit under the weather. 

Besides, the atmosphere between the two of you since you returned from the barbeque has been… odd.

After you got back to your house, you stiffly explained what you’d found out, and you planned loosely for the coming days, but neither mentioned what happened at the Jung’s. You touched him, and then you slept in his arms. You cringe just thinking about it. Perhaps it plays a part in why you’re even less enthusiastic about seeing him. ‘Perhaps’ meaning ‘definitely.’ Luckily Jeongguk didn’t bring it up to tease you about it, he spoke almost neutrally to you about the plan but in between sentences, he looked to be trapped inside his mind.

At five p.m on that third day, your conclusion so far is that although the white, incredibly fluffy cat sometimes is seen through any of the windows facing the street, its preferred squirrel-watching window is most likely facing the backyard. 

The result is both good and bad. Bad because you’ll have to find a way to observe the back of the Jung house, good because entering through a window on the front would be so much riskier.

To your disappointment–even if you knew three days is a very short time–the only sort of pattern regarding Eunha’s late night activities that you’ve managed to discern is that she basically just stays home.

Speaking of Eunha, at five-thirty p.m., you watch through the window as she walks up the short driveway to your door with Hyeji in tow. Assuming Jeongguk is still with Fenrir in the backyard, you rush downstairs to greet your new neighbors.

“Hey, heard you weren’t feeling well, are you better?” Eunha asks the moment you slide the door open.

“Hello, uh, yes. I thought I was coming down with a cold but it stopped at a sore throat and a bit of a cough.”

“That’s good to hear,” Hyeji pipes up from behind her friend, “Eunha baked you cookies!”

Smiling shyly, Eunha nods and hands you the plastic container she’d been holding. 

“Oh, there’s no need–thank you,” you bow politely, realizing that they won’t take no for an answer. The container is white with a red lid, impossible to see through.

“It’s no problem, I was baking anyways, but I thought of you.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” you smile, unable to keep your heart from warming. Eunha and Hyeji are about your own age, but you feel undeniably like a teenager getting fed at grandma’s.

“Like I said; no problem,” she dismisses with a casual wave of her hand. “By the way, how are you settling in?”

“Well,” you start, placing a hand on the door frame and glancing back over your shoulder as if you’re not a hundred percent aware of the state of your barren house. “We’ve gotten the bedroom mostly in order and the kitchen. There was a problem with the moving company we hired, so the last trucks won’t be here for another day or two. But we can eat and sleep, and we have our couch and TV, so we’ll survive!”

Hyeji rises to her toes in a subtle attempt at getting a look inside. “I don’t wanna come off as prying, but… do you think we could get a look inside? The previous owners were such hermits, but we saw them doing some sort of remodeling inside, and, well, we’re curious as to what they had changed.”

“Oh, uh… sure,” you smile nervously, realizing that declining would seem suspicious. 

Dashing through all the rooms in your head, you don’t think there’s anything incriminating left visible. You’ve made it a habit to not leave your binoculars and notepad out when taking a break, usually dropping them in the nightstand drawer if in the bedroom. The listening devices you hope to somehow place inside the Jungs’ house someday are still packed away in Jeongguk’s suitcase under the bed.

The women step inside, and you follow them as they look around, still holding the cookies to your chest.

“Where’s Jaehyun?” Eunha looks back at you.

“Who?” you respond absentmindedly before it hits you.

“Jaehyun? Your husband?”

“Oh! I didn’t hear you,” you lie, hoping it sounds believable and not like you don’t know your husband’s name. “He’s probably playing some ball with Fenrir out back.”

The involuntary tour begins with the living room, and you let them feel the fabric of your couch, lying when Hyeji asks what brand and material it is–you wouldn’t know, you didn’t buy it.

“What kind of curtains are you planning?”

Looking up at the cold walls around your gray couch, you improvise, not knowing if the furniture truck even contains curtains, much less what color.

“Well, we have a couple different ones; I like to rotate them, but… light ones, probably? White or some kind of cold beige?”

As if picturing the drapes, Hyeji and Eunha both listen, humming quietly in agreement.

“Yeah, that would fit nicely with the table too. Clean, I like it.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you mind if we look upstairs?”

Although still nervous, you shake your head, knowing there’s nothing weird for them to stumble upon. “No, no, go ahead.”

“Are you sure? We don’t want to intrude.”

“It’s okay, I definitely understand being curious,” you smile sweetly.

One after the other, you ascend the stairs, you at the very end. During the way up, you hope that they won’t ask about the lone chair at the window in the empty bedroom. It's what you’ve been using whenever Jeongguk’s been occupying the furnished bedroom but you’ve still had to observe the house across the street. 

Luckily, it’s possible to explain, and you can just claim to have used it to check the ceiling light socket or something.

The furnished bedroom is the one closest to the stairs and therefore the room Eunha enters first.

“Oh, this is nice!” she exclaims, twirling slowly to get a feel of the whole room. “Does Fenrir not sleep with you? I’m just wondering how you manage to keep it clean with a dog that size? Although I love light colors like these, I’d never dare have them with an animal in the house.”

You laugh along with her, “No, he does sometimes, but usually, he sleeps in his own bed–which hasn’t arrived yet–but at the moment, he prefers the couch, to be honest. I think it gets too hot for him to sleep with us.”

“Oh, I bet,” you hear Hyeji snicker from behind. It gathers Eunha’s attention.

Confused, you turn around, the color leaving your face–or more like rushing to it–when Hyeji lifts the metal handcuffs off the dresser with her finger. You hadn’t seen them beside the black shirt of Jeongguk’s, lying thrown onto the surface.

“Oh, uh..” you stammer, watching her inspect them.

“These look so real,” she eyes them wide-eyed before her eyes travel to something else on the dresser, “And, uh, this…?”

To your horror, it’s not only his handcuffs that Jeongguk has left out in plain sight.

Eunha blinks with her eyebrows raised slightly, “Is that a… baton?”

“Oh, those….” you step forward, your cheeks warmer than in a long, long time, and you take them gently from the hands of a grinning Hyeji, “belong in the special drawer. I, uh, got them for him a while back. You know, a man in uniform…”

It fucking pains you, having to embarrass yourself due to Jeongguk’s fucking carelessness. He might as well have left his gun and police badge out for anyone to see.

“You know, I can’t even blame you, honestly,” Hyeji smirks as you open the dresser with blazingly warm cheeks to shove the baton into it. “I didn’t take you as the role-playing type, but with a man like that?”

“Yoongi’s crazy hot too, though,” Eunha points out, and you definitely have to agree. Although not as cold and imposing appearance wise as Jeongguk, Yoongi is a hell of a looker. Possibly also part of a criminal community, but you don’t have any concrete evidence for that yet.

“Yeah, of course, but he’s not into that kind of stuff. But I bet Hobi is,” Hyeji’s smirk grows wider, and she wiggles her eyebrows. 

To be fair, Hoseok, Hobi, is also incredibly hot, and he certainly doesn’t lack authority. Honestly, you could throw him into the station and he’d fit right in, who knows what some of those police officers have done behind closed doors?

Eunha blushes. “I know Hobi looks… dominating, but we don’t really engage in those… dynamics. I respect people who do,” she chuckles and nods toward you (please, God, if there’s ever a fitting time for a freak accident to annihilate you), “but that’s just not us.”

Me neither, you want to shout, but painfully enough, you can’t. Instead, you’re searching your brain for a way to change the topic in a natural way.

“I know that J–Jaehyun’s hot and that he can look stern and intimidating, and although I enjoy… that side of him, as you know now,” you chuckle while breathing through the pain, “he’s… so much more than that. He’s sweet and kind, and he’s my best friend in the whole world. So definitely more than gorgeous, and I’m so lucky to have him.”

Hyeji lets out an aw, and you smile shyly in turn. Jeongguk fucking owes you one. Big time. 

“Oh, hello,” Eunha suddenly greets sweetly, and you hear the sound of paws before turning around and seeing Fenrir trot into the room. 

Well, that means Jeongguk is probably also back inside, and that’s definitely your cue to break it up.

After another five minutes and a ton of comments and decor suggestions, your new friends have looked through the entire house, leaving only when you carefully work ‘still feeling tired’ into the conversation. They don’t appear too disappointed as they step outside, perhaps it has something to do with a shirtless Jeongguk giving them a wave as he passes them on his way to the kitchen.

Your blood is already boiling when you close the front door behind them. In vain, you spend twenty seconds trying to collect yourself, but you’re so incredibly angry. The whole point of having a house, shipping furniture to it, and pretending to live a happy little life in it is to be prepared to let people near you. 

Yet, Jeongguk almost blew your entire cover and put you in incredible danger had you not saved the both of you. You’re just lucky they bought it.

With furious steps, you enter the kitchen, only to find Jeongguk leaning back against the counter with a glass of water in his hand. You get that it’s warm and that he was playing with Fenrir, but why does he always need to be shirtless?!

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” you hiss at him, still keeping a respectable distance. “Care to explain why you’d risk the entire operation–our fucking lives–with these?!”

Reaching into your pocket, you grab the handcuffs, throwing them at Jeongguk’s chest. Of course, he catches them. 

“And your fucking baton?! Which I have no idea why you’d need now, and even less so why you’d leave out?!”

“I guess I forgot,” he shrugs, playing with the silvery cuffs in his veiny hand, “Sorry.”

“Are you for real?!” you question, his apology not exactly having simmered your anger. “Do you realize what could’ve happened if they suspected we’re fucking cops?!”

“Well, luckily, you managed to convince them that you want to be. Not that it took much.”

You glare at him, his words not clicking in your head but his face and the way he starts to smile arrogantly keeping your anger alive. You understand that he heard you, but what else?

“Fucking cops. Cops that are fucking, I mean. Want me to tie you up?” he places the glass down on the counter to take a step closer, eyeing you with disgusting confidence. “Cuff you to the bed?”

In response, you take a step back, feeling your stomach churn. The hottest layer of fury dwindles, and you’re left nearly speechless. “Besides stupid, you’re… you’re… vile,” you manage to say, “Try to touch me, and I’ll cut your hands off. And put a fucking shirt on.”

The rest of the afternoon and evening pass without much action. You don’t eat any of the cookies Eunha baked, but you do watch Jeongguk gobble them down without a single worry. 

Funnily enough, you almost think he feels… bad… for fucking up earlier. You would’ve never guessed he had any sort of conscience, but you don’t know how else to explain his actions.

Why would he offer to walk Fenrir when he paws at the door after you’ve just let out a sigh–much less subtle than you thought–so tired you’re struggling to keep your eyes open?

Although still incredibly suspicious, you do let him, and you stand at the window of the bedroom as they leave for, according to Jeongguk, an hour’s walk.

You don’t like the bedroom, you don’t like the couch. Hell, you don’t feel at ease anywhere in the house, but as you’re left with it to yourself, and it’s your turn to spend the night in the living room, you take the opportunity.

Locking the door to the bedroom, you set an alarm for fifty minutes on your phone.

You make a phone call later that day, and the morning after, Jeongguk receives another, informing you that the moving truck is set to arrive at one p.m.. 

You’re not too excited–not at all, really–but it does bring some satisfaction to finally see Jeongguk struggle.

He skips his morning run, stating that he’ll take a rest day with only the exercise that hauling heavy stuff around provides. When the truck pulls up, he’s however still wearing his normal workout outfit, meaning–shirtless. 

It does draw a roll of the eyes from you, but you feel like you can’t blame him too much; the sun really seems extra harsh today. When it comes to your own outfit, you’ve opted for a shorter light pink and flowy dress, held up by spaghetti straps. You try not to think of Jeongguk's opinion.

You stand back when the two men introduce themselves, letting Jeongguk do most of the talking, but when they open up the back of the truck, you’re happy to grab some brown boxes to carry inside.

Honestly, you have absolutely no idea what’s inside all these boxes, but at least they’re labeled by room to make it easier. The plan is to just carry them inside and procrastinate unpacking them for as long as possible, ideally until you’re done and there’s no longer a need to pretend anyway.

And although there are countless disadvantages to being a woman in this world, there is also at least one perk. 

It turns out that both moving guys, Donggeun and Gaeul, are surprisingly… chivalrous. They’re also just regular movers and definitely not law enforcement. Gaeul works primarily from within the big truck, handing the boxes out, and you, Jeongguk, and Donggeun accept them to move them inside. 

Well, as soon as Gaeul lifts a particularly heavy one–or just not one weighing basically nothing–he immediately counts you out. 

If he’s there and ready, Donggeun is Gaeul’s first choice, and he only hands it to Jeongguk if his colleague is busy. More than once, you reach for a brown box, only to have it gently snatched from your hands with an ‘I’ll take that for you, miss.’ 

You don’t like being made to feel weak, especially not by men, but to be honest, today you don’t mind taking the backseat. 

Still, you walk to and fro the house at least ten times, and you start to wonder if the chief and whoever coordinated the props miscalculated something because this many boxes truly is overkill. There are only so many things you do need for your short stay and only so many more to make your pretend life believable.

Despite making more runs than you, carrying a whole lot heavier things and sometimes two boxes at once, Jeongguk is clearly irritated whenever he misses his chance of taking a box from you to carry himself. Even more so when Donggeun beats him to it. Like you said, you don’t mind. Additionally, you don’t feel the threatening aura from either of the movers despite them being men, and you’re pretty sure both of them wear wedding bands. All men are shit, you know that, but evidently, some less so than others.

After having given you an appropriate-deemed box, only for Donggeun to return from the house and happily take it from you, Jeongguk calls for a break. By now, even if you hate the mere thought of it, you and your fake husband have gotten quite good at looks. Subtle glances, pointing gazes–it’s clear that your communication has improved, and you don’t miss his hint.

“Something to drink? That’s not water, I mean?” you clap your hands together smilingly as Gaeul runs his forearm across his sweaty forehead and Donggeun sighs tiredly. They both nod appreciatively, and so you turn, entering the house.

Rummaging through the cupboards, you find a big glass jug that you fill with raspberry lemonade. Jeongguk would’ve probably appreciated a cold beer, but honestly, Gaeul and Donggeun can’t drink on the job, and neither should he.

“Here you go,” you set the jug down on the little plastic garden table placed just inside the fence that’s already holding glasses and the guys’ water bottles. “I added some salt and a bit more sugar to restore fluid balance now that it’s so hot.”

You’re straightening up, wiping your hands on your dress when you feel a hand on your waist. There’s barely any time for you to react before you’re gently tugged into someone’s side and there’s a casual yet sweet kiss placed on your temple.

“Thank you, love.”

You’d be lying if you said his actions and low voice didn’t affect you, and it’s with warming cheeks and surprised eyes you glance up at him. But he’s already directed his focus elsewhere–onto the red liquid that admittedly looks very tempting–and as he’s moving away, his hand slips from your waist.

You breathe out. Man, you gotta get it together.

After twenty minutes and multiple denied offerings of cookies from your side, you get back at it. Well, Jeongguk and the others do; he tells you that he’s got it from here and that there aren’t that many boxes left. 

So you carry the empty jug and glasses back in, pretending that you don’t hear one of the moving guys–you’re not sure who–call you a sweetheart.

The air conditioner does you good, and you take your time washing the glassware, leaving it to air dry before you find yourself standing in the middle of the living room, gazing out over the sea of brown cardboard boxes. You really hope you and Jeongguk can make enough progress in the next few days to finally go home and continue the investigation from there.

Still in your thoughts, you head toward the door to go back outside. As soon as you open it, you see Jeongguk approaching, his head turned back over his shoulder and seemingly also deep in thought as he watches the guys.

He only notices you when you’re a few steps out of the door, his gaze falling onto you, and there’s something in it that you can’t quite decipher. It’s not hate or disgust; those he appears to keep contained for the moment. 

It happens very quickly after that. Without visible hesitation, he marches up to you, his hand already reaching for your face. Naturally, your heart bursts into an attack of some sort, and you’re just lucky he can’t feel your pulse and know how he makes your body react.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and it’s quiet enough that no one else hears, but clear enough that you do. 

Your eyes widen. “I, uh, o–okay.”

He’s doing it for the mission, you’re aware. You just haven’t had the time to figure out exactly why. And at first, you have no intention of figuring his exact reasoning out because Jeon Jeongguk is already kissing you. 

His hand that reached for your cheek travels to the back of your neck, and he uses it to pull you closer, his other hand finding your waist. 

And you… you can’t even say that you hate it. Well, you hate how gentle he is, even when eager, and you hate how he smells nice despite being a bit sweaty. You loathe how soft his lips feel against yours as they kiss you sweetly, and how he tastes of raspberries. Additionally, it’s disgusting how firm and warm his skin is when you run your hands up his back.

Most of all, you hate how someone like him can dent all your walls and how a part of you actually wouldn’t mind kissing him for longer.

But eventually, the kiss does end.

“What are you doing?” you ask quietly, embarrassingly out of breath.

“Kissing my wife.”

You almost laugh at the absurdity, but also… you can’t be mad because he did ask and it was… probably the best kiss you’ve ever had.

It hits you then. Why he did it.

“...You’re jealous.”

Unsurprisingly, Jeongguk scoffs, “No, I’m not. I just think… you know, you don’t talk about someone else’s wife and be all nice.”

The last part he mutters as he turns his head away, and you can’t resist.

“Oh, you so are,” you chuckle, watching him. “So you’re the jealous type of husband. Who would’ve thought?”

Actually, it’s not that much of a surprise. Jeongguk is incredibly competitive, that you do know, and those features tend to correlate. He doesn’t like you in any way, but he still can’t handle other men giving you attention?

He rolls his eyes, “No, I'm just irritated that they don't think I can take care of you on my own.”

Now that wasn’t what you expected.

“I don’t need to be taken care of, though. I can carry some boxes. I may be a woman, but I’m not that weak.”

“I know. Even though you are pretty weak,” he smirks, but it’s less arrogant than usual when it’s only the two of you. “The thing is that you don’t need to.”

You curse your heart for… doing something, and to hide your… fluster…? you sidestep him. “I’m glad we’re not actually married,” you whisper, “You’d be a terrible husband.”

From behind you, you hear how he follows, “You’d be an even worse wife, though. Can’t cook for shit.”

But his insult doesn’t carry that usual bite, and you don’t feel that usual surge of anger. Maybe it has to do with the fact that you’re not alone–at least two witnesses not too far away–or that you still feel him on your lips.

The next day, you’re already up and about when Jeongguk goes for his morning jog, and you see him exit the front door with Fenrir and a shirt on. The former with your (reluctant) permission and the latter by what can only be a belated Christmas miracle. 

Jeongguk seems to have taken a liking to Fenrir, which isn’t that weird considering the dog is an absolute angel, what’s weirder is that Fenrir likes him back. 

Honestly, you don’t really know what you think of it, but a part of you definitely dislikes it. Fenrir’s supposed to have your back, but instead, he’s frolicking with the enemy while you’re working your ass off.

You knew that signing up to live undercover would entail doing a lot of things not directly tied to the operation, but just how much came as a bit of a surprise. 

For instance, you hadn’t planned to be halfway through a recipe, flour on your cheek and a bit of egg white on the floor, but here you are.

Baking has never really been your thing, but you begrudgingly realize that you need to repay Eunha for her cookies and also simply for their generous welcoming. Okay, you probably don’t need to, but being perceived as friendly definitely won’t hurt you on your quest. 

Besides, doing something might help you not think about the day before and how your fake husband’s body feels pressed against yours and under your hands. Or his lips. Your heart almost giving up. His scent–

So, after crawling way too far down Google in search of something you could make yourself and pass off as a family recipe without being called out by an avid baker, you’re taking the tray with cookies out of the oven.

Inspecting the round little things, you tilt your head. At least they look… homemade.

Fifteen minutes later, while you’re in the middle of cleaning up the mess you accidentally made, a sight you’ve unfortunately grown used to enters kitchen.

Jeongguk. Half naked and sweaty. And out of breath. You pretend not to notice him although definitely always keeping an eye on him. Of course, the shirt was just too good to be true as it appears to have vanished into thin air. If you had less self control, your eyes would be glued to the way his abs move with every labored breath.

“Oh, you’re… baking?”

“Yeah,” you pretend to look for something in a drawer, “thought it would show some friendliness and give us a reason to go over.”

“Good idea, but…”

You close the drawer and look up. “What?”

“Can you even bake?”

He moves before you can react, approaching the counter top, and it’s at the last second you manage to open your mouth.

“No, don’t, those are—”

“—Poisoned?”

“—Hot.”

He meets your eyes, and you’re faced with a horrid realization that changes absolutely everything. 

Jeongguk lowers his hand, head turning and eyes spotting the cookies already gathered off a tray and onto a plate. “I guess I’ll have to volunteer as the guinea pig.”

You don’t stop him from biting into one of the cooled-off cookies, and when he tells you–after licking crumbs off his lips–that they’re not terrible, you’re not sure how to feel other than scared.

That feeling doesn’t go away, not even as you watch Jeongguk curiously sift through some of the brown boxes he didn't have time to yesterday, grinning in excitement as he finds some sort of “authentic samurai sword” to hang above the tv.

If baking and your realization had you scared, it’s nothing compared to delivering the cookies. 

A few hours have passed since you took your creations out of the oven when you’re knocking on Eunha’s door. Behind you, Jeongguk stands, looking around absentmindedly with Fenrir’s leash in his hands. You’re stopping by to return the container with your own cookies inside as thanks before going on a walk together; that’s the story.

However, it’s not only Eunha that comes to the door, but also Hoseok. Instantly, your blood freezes. You haven’t spoken much to him, much less than you’re sure Jeongguk has, but there’s just something about the man.

You’ve seen him talk and laugh with his friends and wife, but in between those moments, he seems so… cold. Or… scheming.

“Hi!” you greet, happy to the best of your abilities, “we came to return the favor. And the container.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” Eunha assures but still takes the box from you, opening it to inspect the contents. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you, it was really sweet to bake for me. Actually, you’ve all been very sweet to us, so thank you.”

“No need to thank us,” Hoseok speaks from behind his wife, and your heart skips a beat. “Although if your go-to ‘thank you’ is cookies then I don’t mind.”

You laugh and so do Eunha. Even Jeongguk lets out a chuckle from behind you.

“So how are you? Not fighting, I hope?” she grins.

You blink at Eunha’s question. Why would she think you were fighting? What could she have seen? Or heard?

“I’m just wondering since it looks like someone’s sleeping on the couch.”

You gulp. Fuck.

<previous | next>

so what are your thoughts?? what do we think of jk?? 😅😀