Fic Dextrocardia - Tumblr Posts

dextrocardia | 04

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: 5.3k

warnings for this part: none really, except sexism and insults and jk is HOT but confusing (also,,,, k i s s i n g)

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 4/? 

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

Behind you, Jeongguk must be looking even more confused than you. 

“It’s hard not to notice the tv when you don’t have any curtains and really big windows,” Eunha elaborates with a chuckle.

Shit. Your heart starts to race, and you can feel your hands go clammy. That’s your fault. You leave the ginormous tv on during the night whenever it’s your turn on the couch. 

“He snores,” you blurt. “And I don’t wanna disturb him so I sometimes go downstairs because I know he needs his sleep.”

You know you’ll be skinned alive the moment you’re alone together, but you needed a believable explanation and you needed one fast. Technically, you could’ve pinned the snoring on yourself, but… no, Jeongguk and his friends have made your life a living hell, and you’re not about to forget that just because he’s got a tender touch and kissable lips.

“Oh?” It’s Hoseok who speaks, “That must be rough.”

“Yeah, I’ve told her to wake me, but she insists on going down, herself,” Jeongguk answers, his voice gentle and warm, and even if you can’t technically hear it, you do hear it; the irritation.

You zone out after that, relieved that your quick thinking worked but still frozen in some kind of fear, the others’ voices becoming muffled as they move on to small talk. You nod here and smile there, but soon enough, you and Jeongguk turn to leave.

“Why the fuck did you have to say that?” he seethes the moment you’re out of sight, turning to walk down the neighborhood’s sidewalk. 

You keep your eyes forward and your emotions in check, knowing that there could be neighbors watching. “Because we needed an excuse.”

“And of course, your first instinct is to throw me under the bus.”

“No, but I don’t see why I should always be the one to sacrifice myself?”

“‘Sacrifice yourself?’ I can’t recall you sacrificing anything, actually.”

You can’t say that he doesn’t, once again, disappoint you, but you glance at him, your lips parted. You definitely shouldn’t be surprised.

“You’re an ass,” you inform, “and on second thought, I think I’ll head back. Don’t really feel like hanging out with you.”

Holding your hand out, expecting him to pass the leash to you, you have to admit that what does surprise you is seeing him sigh and almost look… apologetic. Almost.

“I can still take him for a walk. I know you said he needed it, so I can do it, I don’t mind.”

For two seconds, you contemplate. But you don’t have the energy to argue and while you stare at Jeongguk, Fenrir pulls on the lead, excited for a long walk. You may dislike Jeongguk, but he seems weirdly fond of your dog.

“Fine.”

They’re gone for nearly two hours, leaving you to plan the coming days in peace, and when they return, Fenrir snoozes off happily under the dining table.

It turns out that the house’s sad excuse of a flower bed comes in handy for you. There are weeds and corpses of a few different plants you can’t identify sticking up from the dry dirt that lines the inside of the fence in the front yard. It’s not like you have an extreme interest in gardening, but thanks to your grandma, you know a few things, and coincidentally, working on it will give you a good reason to be outside, observing both the neighbors and possibly that god forsaken cat.

Wiping your forehead with your wrist so as to not transfer dirt from the gloves to your face, you gaze up, irritated at the sun. It just had to be an exceptionally warm summer, didn’t it? Insane beyond words, Jeongguk left about an hour ago to join Namjoon on his jog, and you almost hope he perishes from sunstroke or dehydration while away.

You’re wearing another light blue, flowy dress, your bare knees on the grass as you’re kneeling in front of the dirt. Despite the result of the flower bed being absolutely not important whatsoever, you’re still happy with what you’ve accomplished during the last hour or two.

Behind you is the pile of weeds you’ve managed to unearth, which is a lot. Unfortunately, you don’t have any live plants or even seeds to plant, so there’s just one more thing you can do today, which is watering the flowerless flower bed thoroughly.

It takes way too much effort to unroll the garden hose from its wall-mounted holder, but with the hose on the ground and the tiny little lever pulled just right, you hear the telltale sound of water moving through it.

The area you’ve “moved” into is a fairly dry one, so you’ll have to really drench the soil all the way down, and you waste no time.

As soon as you twist the muzzle, the water sputters until there’s a steady stream flowing. You twist some more, and the stream evolves into something more like a shower. It’s pretty, how the sun’s rays scatter on the many, many droplets, and you feel the slight breeze carry the very smallest of them to your skin. 

You take a deep, relaxing breath, enjoying the feeling and letting some tension go. You’ve been so uncomfortable here. Unsurprising, really, considering who else shares your house and what the mission means, but it’s really put a dent in your health. You have a hard time sleeping, scared of being snuck up on and murdered, and you don’t eat much, paranoid of being poisoned. Danger and evil is everywhere, around every corner.

You lift your gaze from the ground, and it falls on a specific house on the other side of the street. The cat, a ragdoll?, has shown himself maybe once. Perhaps you’ve also seen a suspiciously fluffy tail swish past a window once. His relative absence confirms your suspicion that he spends most of his time at a window facing the backyard and not the front.

You’re in the middle of planning a shorter side mission that might entail you, dressed in black from head to toe, and crawling through the tiny little, tree-sparse forest behind the Jung’s backyard fence when a sound catches your attention.

Before realizing that it’s Jeongguk calling your fake name, you’re startled, your body tensing up and turning around.

Still with the hose in your hand.

“What the?!” he exclaims, as he’s doused in the cold hose water, and you’re immediately trying to get your surprised hands to twist the muzzle shut.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry,” you apologize, eyes lowering from a half-naked (to whose surprise?) and dripping Jeongguk to your hands. 

The wet, slippery hose doesn’t cooperate, and so all you can do is redirect the water down onto the ground while you try your best to shut it off. 

Somewhere in the back of your head, you register… laughter, and big hands suddenly appear in your vision to take the hose from your hands.

When you peer up, you’re eye to eye with your partner, his hair wet and dripping water onto his face. But he’s grinning, seemingly carefree and not… angry?

Gently, he takes the hose and twists it shut, and when you look around, you notice the reason. There’s laughter coming from the small audience of Namjoon, also half-naked and sweaty from their run, and Eunha and Hoseok, leaning against their own fence on the other side of the street. Perhaps you also spot one of the older ladies living in a house further down the street peek her head out the open door at the ruckus.

“Thank you. And, uh, sorry,” you smile sheepishly, watching a droplet run down Jeongguk’s face and drip from the tip of his nose.

“It’s okay.”

But his smile grows as he takes a step back, and before you know it, he’s turning the water on again with you as his target.

“Jeo–Jaehyun!!” you shriek, holding your hands out in a feeble attempt to stop the cold stream from soaking your dress.

Oddly enough, your nemesis turns the setting to the softest stream, but you realize it perhaps wouldn’t look the best if he was witnessed trying to powerwash his wife’s skin from her bones.

Luckily for you, he only keeps it on for a few seconds, but you definitely think he enjoys it. When he shuts the water off again, he drops the hose to the ground to approach you.

You lock eyes, your heart beating heavily, and you don’t have the brain capacity to think about the others watching.

He steps closer, so much so that you’re nearly chest to chest, and your heart comes to a standstill instead as you peer up at him. Your skin is wet, almost as wet as his although your hair remains a bit dryer.

A water drop threatens to fall from a black strand hanging nearly in his eyes. Eyes that don’t waver from yours. They’re warmer, almost freckled with gold under the sun.

“Your dress is see-through.”

Not once, as he walks you back to the front door, shielding you with his own body, does he look down. Not even as the distance between you increases when you go to open the door to slip inside, instead, he looks away.

“Thank you.” You don’t know why you’re thanking him. Well, you do, but you don’t.

“No problem,” he smiles, turning around to head back to his new-found buddy.

Around twenty minutes later, when you’re in a dry change of clothes, Jeongguk enters the house. 

“Eunha’s visiting her mom in two days. She’ll spend the night there too.”

You look up from your laptop where you’re sitting on the couch. Jeongguk is still half-naked because when is he not, but he’s also still a bit wet. Not as much, so you figure he must’ve dried off quite a bit out in the sun, already disappearing into the bathroom to return with a towel to pat the remaining water away with.

“What? How do you know that?”

“I heard her. She asked Namjoon where to buy a bonsai tree for her mom.”

“Oh,” you answer, trying not to stare as Jeongguk rubs the towel all over his hair, making his abdominal muscles flex. “That’s good. So, today is… Tuesday, meaning that she’ll leave on Thursday, and spend the night. Their cat’s favorite window is guaranteed at the back of the house, so if we find a way to figure out which exact window it is by Thursday… We can get inside then.”

“No, that’s too early. You want me to go to the poker night–the first one I’ve been invited to–and skip out early? Even if we do crack which window it is, it’s too risky. Too suspicious. I say we wait a week; watch the cat in the meantime, and I’ll leave early next week.”

You’re almost a bit taken aback. Since when does Jeongguk know how to converse–about your different opinions nonetheless–without calling you names and looking at you with disgust? Silently, you wonder if he slipped and fell on his head outside.

“It’s not. We use one of the battery-powered mini cameras and we set it up on their backyard fence tonight after dark, and you go to Namjoon’s on Thursday, stay for a drink or two, for maybe… an hour or two? I’ll call you and tell you that I’m sick.”

He watches you, still unconvinced but with a surprisingly optimistic look on his face.

“The quicker we get even the smallest lead that we can use in the investigation–and we can leave, the better. Even if it’s a bit less suspicious to postpone a week, the risks increase each day we’re here. Besides, we don’t know when the house will be empty again.”

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything, and so you shut your eyes for a second before opening them and looking at him. “They’re not telling us anything; our best bet is to bug the house as soon as possible. You can tell them I’m pregnant or something. Say that it’s early on but that I’m still affected. You can even say that I’ve been sleeping on the couch because I throw up a lot and want to be near the bathroom and not disturb you. That I lied about you snoring because I didn’t want to tell anyone yet. ”

Finally, he seems to actually consider it, biting his cheek before he speaks. “Fine. We rig the camera tonight, and depending on how it goes, if we get clear enough evidence on the cat, we do it this week.”

“What do you say?” Jeongguk’s quiet voice sounds from your phone that’s lying on the kitchen table.

“A little more to the right. No, no, tilt it to the right,” you guide, both hands gripping the Ipad screen. Jeongguk follows your instructions and the Jungs’ house moves within the borders.

“There, there! That’s good; all windows are in frame.”

“Good, I’ll just… fasten it,” he informs, and you can hear the slight rustling and see the camera move minorly. “Still good?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. I’ll be back within five.”

With that, the call ends, and you sigh. The house is still displayed on the screen, in the night vision mode’s green tint. You make sure the screen is plugged in properly, and you adjust the settings to start recording at the smallest sign of movement.

Then, with approximately one minute left until Jeongguk’s return, you start preparing. He’s been more focused on the job the last few hours which is positive because the more focused he is, the less vile he is toward you.

You take a deep breath when the front door opens, silently reminding yourself to not stare at his body. Before he left, he got changed into a black, long-sleeved compression shirt and black cargo pants, and you’re not sure what’s worse, the usual lack of a shirt or this one because you can still see every little shape and bulge and dent in his upper body.

“Works?” he asks the moment he steps into the kitchen, heading directly toward the cupboard with glasses.

“Yeah, good, uh… job.”

The second it’s out, you shut your eyes briefly. You didn’t need to say that, he was gone for less than fifteen minutes. He taped a camera to a fence. Immediately, you brace yourself for the incoming insult. ‘It’s not hard when you have the slightest bit of talent in your body,’ or ‘do you really think I need compliments from you?’

“Thank you.”

You blink, certainly surprised. 

It would’ve been your turn on the couch if you hadn’t gotten fucking exposed. What bothers you is also that, after hearing Jeongguk’s reasoning, a small part of you is actually considering sleeping in the bed with him.

“We don’t even have curtains. And our windows are too big, if they look through them even from the street, they’ll most likely see you.”

Maybe you’re the one who hit their head somehow? Because you’re currently standing in the bedroom, watching Jeongguk pull the covers away. 

“That’s all you’re wearing?” you question, fidgeting with your hands and nodding toward his mostly-naked body. Of course, he’s bare up top, only wearing a pair of shorts, and it’s ridiculous how fit and muscular he is. The muscles in his arm flex when he grabs a pillow, and his abs move too when he positions it to his liking.

“Uh… Yeah? It’s summer; it’s hot as fuck.”

It doesn’t matter that he isn’t spitting insults in your face–you’re still not comfortable with him. Maybe even less so because why would he suddenly not take a very good chance to hurt you? Why didn’t he insinuate that you’re lucky to be able to witness a body like his? Sleep next to him in bed?

Should you do it? What happens if you don’t, and they notice you on the couch? You don’t think your neighbors are suspicious of you but will they be? If the mission fails–if you fuck it up–what will happen? You won’t pretend that your safety isn’t at risk.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or…?”

“What about Fenrir?”

Jeongguk plops down on the bed in a sitting position with his back against the headboard and clasps his hands behind his head. You try not to look at how his biceps bulge.

“I don’t mind him. In fact, I’d rather sleep beside him than you, so he might as well sleep in here too.”

There it is, some sort of insult. In fairness, you guess having someone as gorgeous and talented as Jeongguk also be kind would offset some sort of balance in the world. You just can’t have it all. 

While he watches, you open the closet and gather some shorts and a t-shirt in your arms, and without a word, you head out to the bathroom on the bottom floor.

Fenrir looks at you with his big, brown eyes when you unlock the bathroom door a few minutes later, having washed up and changed for the night. He’s an attentive dog–that’s why you got him–and he surely knows that you’re nervous. 

“Okay, we can do this,” you whisper to the dog, “It’s just one man, and you’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours.”

Not that Jeongguk would even look at Fenrir with anything remotely close to disgust, but it feels better when you remind yourself that Fenrir’s on your side. Sure, Jeongguk may like him, and perhaps Fenrir likes him back, but the dog is yours, and you are his favorite person.

When you return, Jeongguk is still sitting in bed, but he’s preoccupied with the phone in his hands. 

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow, then?” you ask, flicking the light switch off and trying to ignore your nerves as you approach the bed. 

“I’m not sure,” Jeongguk answers without looking up. The only lightsource in the room is the device in his hands, and it illuminates his face, “what do we need before we’re ready to enter the house?”

“Well, we’ve got the equipment and hopefully the window of time when Eunha’s away and Hoseok’s at Namjoon’s. If we’re lucky, we’re able to confirm which window to enter through tomorrow. I’d say all we need to do is perfect our excuse as to why you’ll have to return home without it seeming suspicious.”

You stop at the foot of the bed, disgusted at the thought of having babies with Jeongguk, even if they’re made up. 

“Also, we should probably see if we can find out more about their cameras, if there’s, you know, a plug to pull before entering just in case either of them decide to take a look. You could always try to steal Hoseok’s phone during the poker night or otherwise prevent him from looking, but Eunha might want to check in on the cat through hers.”

“I can have the chief make some calls to cut the power to their house for a few minutes?”

Surprised, you look at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“I mean–yeah, if that’s a possibility? I didn’t know it was?”

He puts the phone down on the bedside table. “I think it is. It won’t work for the alarm since those have backup batteries, and there’s a small risk the cameras could as well, but it would be better than only disconnecting the router while already inside in case they have their own connection. We don’t know if the cameras are set to record movement or, like you said, Eunha decided to take a look either.”

His suggestion is good, you can’t deny that, but it makes irritation bubble in your veins. Yes, the chief is sexist like so many men in law enforcement, and your relationship isn’t the best, but to hear Jeongguk speak of the man as something like a friend? You doubt he’d be cutting power if you asked.

“So, are you getting in, or?”

Blinking in the low light, you realize that you’ve just been standing at the foot of the bed with both Jeongguk and Fenrir watching you, Fenrir from the floor beside the bed.

“Yes,” you sputter, not wanting your nerves to show. More determined than you’ve felt in quite some time–fake determination or not–you grab the duvet on your side to get under it. “Just a warning, though. If you touch me, I’ll get Fenrir to bite you. Fenrir, up!”

The big dog jumps up and lies down between you and Jeongguk, and you feel confident enough to lie down with your back toward him.

“If I touch you? You think I want to touch you?”

Like so many times before, your heart sinks. Of course, it doesn’t make sense that you care since you hate the man, but evidently, you do. You’ve begun to reach the conclusion that something’s wrong with you.

Unsurprisingly, you don’t sleep much. At all, really. So, you rise with the sun because what’s the use in lying in bed with an unconscious Jeongguk? He’s definitely pretty to look at, and sleep somehow makes him look almost… endearing, but you definitely know you shouldn’t, so you grab a change of clothes and leave the bedroom.

It’s eight a.m., and you’re sitting at the kitchen table when a newly awoken Jeongguk drags his feet into the kitchen. You look up from the tablet just in time to see him stretch his arms over his head and yawn. Still half-naked, of course.

“Didn’t expect you to be awake at a reasonable time,” he comments, nearly tripping over his own feet. It makes you snicker, and you curse to yourself.

“Dude, I don’t think you’re even awake.”

Jeongguk squints his light sensitive eyes at you, his hair sticking out in every direction and swaying as he approaches the fridge. After opening it, he reaches for the orange juice, and you think you feel the air turn slightly… awkward.

“So, today… We should look happy. Like, even happier than just newly-weds. As if we just found out you were… pregnant? Or should the story be that we’ve known a little while?”

Oh. Your fingers trace the rim of your own mug.

“Well, if I’m supposed to be sick tomorrow, then maybe it would be best if we say that we, or I, have been suspecting it because I’ve been feeling… the symptoms? And that it’s the reason I decided to test for it yesterday? We can act like we’re happy but trying to keep it a secret for a little while longer because it’s still early?”

Taking a sip from the blue mug in his hand, Jeongguk nods. “I’ll do the rounds, looking excited, but I won’t tell them until poker tomorrow when I explain why I’ll need to go home.”

“Because I’m sick and worried something might be wrong?”

“Yeah. By the way, did you have time to look through that yet?” he gestures toward the screen in your hand. “Did it show anything?”

“Yeah, I think we got it,” you smile hopefully.

Your sleepless night catches up to you, and while Jeongguk locks the door behind him to meet Namjoon for yet another morning run, you dive back into bed. Can you call it a nap if it’s not even ten a.m.? Who knows, but the extra sleep in a quiet house does you good.

At eleven, you stick your feet into your sandals to take Fenrir for a walk, but it isn’t long after you’ve stepped outside that you spot Jeongguk and Namjoon outside your short fence. Both are breathing heavily and more or less drenched in sweat. In all honesty, Namjoon is both slightly taller and bigger than Jeongguk, even if Jeongguk looks more… defined, but… it bothers you how your eyes are drawn so much more to Jeongguk. You, if anyone, know what a terrible person he is, and how he finds you appalling and gross and disgusting, yet you find yourself looking at him.

You manage to pass the men quickly, but since you’re supposed to be extra happy and in love today, you still make an effort to give your fake husband a heart-eyed smile and a kiss from your tippy toes, your hand on his sweaty chest. He looks down at you warmly, and you hope that you manage to look as happy as he does.

You allow Fenrir to do his business, and then, you’re on your way to Hyeji’s house. She’s on her porch when you approach, excitedly waving you closer.

“Good morning!” she greets, and even Bubbles comes running from inside the house, barking.

“Morning, how are you today?” you lean your arms on the fence, giving her your best ‘I just found out I’m having a child with the man of my dreams but I’m keeping it a secret for now’ smile.

“Great! How are you? Care for some tea?”

“I’m pretty great too. And sure, I’d love to,” you smile, intending on acting like you’re feeling sick but pretending to be good. Layers.

Hyeji grins, and as you head inside the fence and toward her porch with Fenrir in tow, you realize that perhaps you’ll miss her when all of this is over. If you make it out, that is, there are still a ton of risks.

For almost three hours, you sit and chit chat. You even forget that you’re supposed to act somewhat happy because you don’t have to act. In a way, Hyeji reminds you of your friends back home, of Sana and Jihyo, but despite how much you’d rather stay and talk about anything and everything (except your real life) with her, you should probably get going. 

Your mind is in overdrive during the short walk back to the house. Dark, mysterious eyes, friends, assignments, weapons. Gunshots. When you slide the unlocked front door open, the house is eerily quiet. Your heartbeat picks up.

“J–Jaehyun?” you call carefully, just in case Jeongguk is home but not alone. There’s no reply, but another sound. Like… groaning?

Briefly, you wonder if someone’s hurt, and logically, it would be Jeongguk. Slowly, you sneak through the front part of the house with Fenrir’s collar tightly gripped, until you see him.

It is Jeongguk, and he’s doing pull ups on one of those bars he installed in the doorway to the bathroom. Like earlier, he’s wearing shorts, his sweaty back facing you, and he appears to be listening to music through his headphones. For just a second, you let yourself admire him; his strong back and arms, and the sounds he makes. Then, you unleash Fenrir, chuckling a little to yourself when he lunges in excitement, startling Jeongguk to the point he almost falls on his ass.

“Didn’t hear you,” he heaves, bending down to scratch Fenrir behind the ears. 

“We noticed. How has it gone today, so far?”

Jeongguk straightens up, “Uh, pretty well. I’ve mainly been, you know, trying to build relations and acting extra happy. Also went through the footage up until now, and the result’s the same. It’s for sure that window.”

You nod, “That’s… good. Means we can proceed with the plan.”

The plan may not have been the most detailed or…  planned, and it definitely didn’t contain Jeongguk moving the old hammock–left behind in the backyard by the old owners–onto the porch and waving you closer when you step outside.

“It’s… cold,” you excuse, looking out over the street. It’s nine p.m., and the sun is setting over the neighborhood, but it doesn’t mean that its residents have retreated inside yet. In the distance, there’s still laughter and chatter echoing from someone’s backyard, and two houses over, people are sitting on the steps of their porch with wine glasses in their hands.

In a surprisingly good mood, Jeongguk keeps motioning for you to come closer. You do slowly, wrapping your arms around your dress-clad self.

Seeing Jeongguk look anything other than seething confuses you and nearly has you squinting your eyes at him in suspicion. An hour earlier, you went looking for Fenrir, calling his name throughout the house and starting to grow worried. Then you saw them through the window, playing in the backyard, and you stayed there, watching.

You don’t like seeing Jeongguk happy. It’s just not believable. To be fair, he didn’t know you were watching him, and he was alone with your dog with no one else around, so there was no use for him to pretend, but… it just can’t be real.

The eyes that are usually so dark with hatred and disgust–or at least used to be–crinkled in a way you’ve never really seen before. He smiled as he called for your dog’s attention, laughing happily when Fenrir went running for the ball Jeongguk threw. You observed as they played for a while, and then as Jeongguk sat down in the grass and patted his lap, Fenrir trotting over with the ball between his jaws and lying down across Jeongguk’s legs.

“Stop whining,” he teases, looking so handsome as he rises to stand before you, “and sit with me.”

Taking you by surprise, Jeongguk shrugs off the navy sweatshirt he’d been wearing and places it over your head before you can say anything about it. Somewhat reluctantly, you put your arms through the holes, gasping in surprise when Jeongguk tugs you down beside him by one of the inevitable sweater paws.

“Do you think they’re fooled?” he wonders quietly, still holding onto the sweater, “Do we look like newlyweds that can’t keep their hands off each other?”

“Umm, I don’t know. Never been a newlywed. Or married at all, actually.”

You’re not sure what it is, if it’s your quiet voices in the summer night air, or if it’s something else, but a calmness starts to settle in your chest.

Jeongguk chuckles, locating your hand in the fabric, “Well, me neither. But we look like we could be, at least I think. You’re not the worst actress, after all. Or wife.”

Eyebrows raised slightly, you meet his eyes. “How generous of you.”

He keeps smiling but doesn’t say anything more, and slowly, he raises his hand, stroking your cheek before gently holding your chin. Then, he moves closer, and he kisses you.

You let him, and you definitely do kiss him back. Slowly at first, then a little more eager. He tugs a little on your waist, and carefully, and with your heart beating out of your chest, you move onto his lap. He keeps his warm hands on your waist, rubbing soft circles with his thumbs, and you feel the rough fabric of his jeans against the skin of your legs.

At that moment, he’s sweet. Kind. Funny. You don’t think about the cockiness, the arrogance, the rolling of eyes, and insults directed your way. You live the fantasy, ringed fingers and feelings growing warmer. Being cared for, desired. But even if all of it were true, you’d have a lot to work through. And it isn’t true, it’s an act, especially from his side. The neighbor you saw peek over her hedge a minute ago just reminds you of it. It doesn’t stop you from coming to the realization that you want it. You want him to like you, you want him to want you.

Despite you not moving much on his lap, something soon happens. At first, you thought you imagined it, but no, he’s definitely getting hard underneath you while also slowly, slowly lowering one of his warm hands to the naked skin of your outer, lower thigh, and it triggers your fight or flight response. 

You pull back, fear in your eyes as you climb off him.

“Hey, I–” he tries, but you’re already back away.

“I gotta go, I, uh, have to get ready,” you excuse. 

Of course, there isn’t anything to get ready for, not until tomorrow anyway. But you turn, and you hurry inside, locking yourself in the bathroom.

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dextrocardia | 08

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: 6.3k

warnings: a lot of talk about assault of different kinds (sexual included), harrassment, sexism, there's blood and very serious injuries, trauma heavy. if you feel very bothered reading stuff like that, please skip this <3

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 8/? 

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

“Answer me. You’re a double agent?!”

You’re too terrified to be embarrassed by the way you’re trembling, sitting on the floor in your pair of black cotton shorts and gray t-shirt, pressing your back against the wall furthest from the door. Not that nor the tears that start to wet your lashes and soon enough roll down your cheeks.

Despite not being too surprised, you’re obviously not any less scared.

“Please don’t,” you beg, your vision starting to become blurry from tears, “you don’t have to do this. Please, Jeongguk.”

You focus on the silhouette of him, the dark blue dress shirt and black pants. “I know what I did was wrong, I know, but I didn’t know what else to do. He was pressing t–too hard, and I couldn’t breathe.”

Tears and fear block your throat, and your heart beats a thousand beats a minute, but you try your best to get the words out, try to convince him even though you know it’s a lost cause.

“I know I’m not im–important or pretty, but I didn’t want to die. What was I supposed to do? My hand slipped out, and I–I just reached for his g–gun.” 

Wiping the tears with your wrist, you see how he changes tactics, the way Jeongguk’s eyes have gone from furious to looking worried. How he’s put on his acting face.

“What… what are you talking about?” he asks, voice void of any anger as he takes another step toward you. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice or scare you, I’m sorry, but what… are you talking about?”

Quickly reaching for the razor blade in your bra, you accidentally cut your finger when you remove the blade from its case. Blood drips down your hand as you raise it in a pathetic warning.

“Don’t come any closer,” you try to sound confident, but maybe it is a bit embarrassing how your voice shakes and your hand is so unsteady that you have to support it with the other. “Please, just let me go, Jeongguk? I’m pulling the report, and I’ve apologized. If you let me go, I’ll disappear tonight, okay? You won’t ever have to see me again.”

Your gaze is drawn to the knife still gripped by his veiny hand, and so is his. A second later, he tosses the knife to the other side of the room where it hits the floor with a clinking sound and looks to bounce underneath the bed, closer to you than him, as if he wouldn’t still be able to reach it before you.

“What… report?” he asks, sinking down to one knee, still only a few steps into the room. “What are you talking about?”

But you’re not fooled by those pretty eyes, and it frustrates you how he thinks he can look at you softly and have you forget everything. It lives permanently in the back of your mind. The threats, the attempts, the fear, and now ultimately, the defeat.

“Stop pretending, Jeongguk,” you plead, sniffling. “We both know what this is. If you’re going to do it, just… get it over with. Please. Don’t play with me like this.”

Like he’s thinking hard, maybe even realizing something, his eyes lose focus, and he stands up.

“You’re talking about Hoseong, aren’t you?”

You’re quiet—well, as quiet as a crying, pathetic mess can be—when he looks down at you. You’re not sure what it is that he’s hoping for, if it’s for you to lower your guard and vulnerably crawl into his arms or if he’s deliberately trying to provoke you to get a reaction that he can answer. You meet his eyes with your razor blade slowly lowered, and he waits for something, his eyes searching yours for answers he already knows. But you can’t give them, and he backs out of the room with you still trembling on the floor.

Raindrops smatter against the windshield as Jeongguk drives toward the city.

His phone dings with a text, and he raises it, reading the preview.

He sets his course toward a more specific goal. A bar.

It’s long since dark when he steps out of the car, locking it behind him and looking around. It took him around forty-five minutes to reach the well known destination, and he spent them all in silence, his thoughts loud enough.

The wet pavement reflects light from the streetlights and a few neon signs, and Jeongguk walks with determined steps up to the door and pushes it open, placing the car keys into his breast pocket for easy access.

Inside, it’s busy as usual. People are sitting in booths or on bar stools around round tables or the bar itself, and they’re laughing, chatting loudly and singing along to the music.

Not long after entering, Jeongguk spots them. His friends. There’s three of them, sitting around a circular table.

“JK, hey!” Seunghwan calls, alcohol evident in his flushed cheeks.

Jeongguk nods in a neutral greeting, coming to stand before their table. Hoseong tips his bottle of beer slightly to the side, looking at him curiously. 

“Thought you were shipped out? How’s it going?” he speaks loudly over the music. “Can’t believe you got her to apologize, man,” he grins, leaning back.

“Had to ask you a few things,” Jeongguk answers at the same volume, finding it harder than he thought to keep his emotions at bay, “about her, actually.”

 Hoseong and Ryung both raise their eyebrows, but Jeongguk continues. “I want to know what happened that night. When you got shot.”

Although looking surprised, Hoseong still lets a smile pull on his lips. “Well, I fucked her. You know that, and she got pissed because I wasn’t interested in being her boyfriend.”

Seunghwan chuckles, but Jeongguk doesn’t find it funny.

“You ‘fucked her?’” he repeats. He knew that, but this time, he’s looking at the situation in a new light. 

“Yeah, I fucked her,” Hoseong shrugs, toning it down just a tad, like he’s suspecting where Jeongguk is taking the conversation.

“Well, did she want you to ‘fuck her?’ Did she threaten you with the gun because you turned her down, and you were shot by accident?” Jeongguk stares at the person he thought was his friend. “Or was it intentional?”

For about two seconds, Hoseong just looks at Jeongguk like he’s… assessing something, and Jeongguk isn’t sure how the man in front of him will react.

But he leans back again, rolling his eyes lightheartedly. “Oh, come on, man, don’t be like that. You know how women are these days, they want to be tied up and fucked, but when you don’t want her to call you ‘sweetie pie’ and hold hands, they scream ‘rape.’”

Jeongguk holds his breath for a second, trying to keep his cool. He looks around at the unsuspecting environment. “Let’s talk outside, I can barely hear you in here.”

Before he turns on his heel, heading back toward the exit, he sees Hoseong stand from the barstool nonchalantly.

It doesn’t rain anymore, and the outside air is a lot colder than the sweaty atmosphere inside. Somehow, the difference in sound level makes the situation all that more real. Jeongguk walks away from the entrance to give them some privacy, not to be nice but to maximize his chances of getting the entire story.

“You forced yourself on her, didn’t you?” he turns around, putting his clenched fists in his pockets. Hoseong and Ryung followed, but Seunghwan stayed behind. “You tied her up in the hotel room you were staked out in for that case, and you raped her. She got free and shot you in self-defense. Am I getting close?”

“You’re overreacting, dude. You know she was in love with me, right?”

Jeongguk feels his anger and frustration grow, but he tries to keep calm. “I knew that she loved you, yes, but it doesn’t mean she automatically wanted to sleep with you. She filed a report too, didn’t she? What happened with that?”

Hoseong shrugs indifferently, and it’s unclear if he doesn’t know or doesn’t care. Or maybe he just doesn’t want Jeongguk to know. Jeongguk shakes his head in disbelief and turns around. He needs to leave before he does something stupid.

Ryung calls his name, but Jeongguk is already walking back to the car briskly. He gets into the driver’s seat, slams the door shut, and starts the car, and when he glances back in the rearview mirror, he sees the people he thought he knew standing close together, talking. They’re looking his way.

The drive back is tortuous and slow. Jeongguk navigates back out of the city with ease, but then he’s stuck on the freeway with nothing and no one else but himself and his thoughts. He’s been living a lie ever since he started his current job, and slowly but surely, his brain puts all the pieces together. The pieces he has—some, he’s certainly still missing.

In a fit of rage and despair, he gives the steering wheel three harsh and undeserved hits with his palm, the horn blaring each time.

“Oh, God,” he whispers, shutting his eyes for a microsecond. What has he done? What has he done, what the fuck has he done?

He bites his lip, reaching for the phone he threw onto the passenger side, his eyes alternating between the road and Google, where he’s searching for a phone number.

Your limbs are frozen and your senses both feel like they’re hyper tuned to your surroundings and numb all at once. You don’t know when Jeongguk left–actually, you’re not even certain that he did leave. Sure, you heard the door close and the car drive off, but he could’ve parked it a few houses down and snuck back inside somehow, waiting somewhere in the dark for you to lower your guard. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hear Fenrir bark, but all you can focus on is that dark doorway.

Then, you hear sounds. A car door, then the front door. Fenrir stops barking, and your worry grows. Then, there are steps, and someone is coming for you. Is it Jeongguk? Or did he leave you to one of his friends? Is it Hoseong? Unable to stop them, tears start to flow again. You promised yourself you’d meet your end with at least a bit of dignity, but you’re not that brave, evidently.

It’s Jeongguk who appears in the doorway, his hair and clothes slightly wet. You look behind him, waiting for the rest of his colleagues to come into view, but they don’t.

“Hey,” he greets quietly, looking like he’s trying to appear non-threatening, but you remember hearing him promise his friends to put you in your place, show you that it’s a man’s world you’re living in. 

Put an end to it. He’s certainly tried before.

You press yourself impossibly closer to the wall as he takes another step into the room. You’ve cheated death four times–that you know of–but you won’t be able to this time.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”

It doesn’t matter that his brown eyes look kind and soft, they’re not, and he doesn’t care for you. He thinks you’re ugly, doesn’t think anyone could ever want or love you. He only cares about him, his friends, and their pride. He thinks that you should’ve died that night, and he made you apologize for surviving.

Now he’s just playing with his food. 

“Stop, don’t come any closer. I’m warning you,” you panic, raising the blade again.

Jeongguk stops, and his eyes land on your other hand, on the nick in the skin of your ring finger. “You’re still bleeding.”

He takes another slow step, and another. You keep your terrified eyes on him, but you’re sure he can tell that with every step of his, your trembling worsens.

“Please stop playing this game with me,” you plead, tears rolling down your cheeks. He won, they all did, can’t he just put you out of your misery?

“I’m not playing. Here, let me look at your finger.”

He’s so close now that he sinks to one knee and holds his hand out. You’re still gripping the razor blade, but he obviously doesn’t think you’ll actually cut him. You don’t make any move to let him see the hand you’ve put in your lap, so as slow as he can, Jeongguk reaches for it, himself.

You don’t have the courage to fight him. Logically, you know it’s your skin that’s freezing cold, probably due to shock, but his skin is burning against you when he grabs your hand. He must feel every little tremble as well. You shut your eyes. It helps not seeing him, but you still smell him, feel him around you.

“I can’t hurt you. You knew that,” your shaky mess of a voice states your discovery quietly.

Just… any second now. A blow to your head, or a knife to your throat. You made a breakthrough in the case, so he doesn’t need you anymore. He’s going to end your life, plant whatever weapon he uses at the Jung’s, and frame them for your murder. An undercover mission gone wrong–they found out about your real identities and killed you. Jeongguk escaped, and he gets the glory of clearing the case and putting the bank robbers and subsequent murderers behind bars. Not to mention the relief of knowing you’ll take the truth to the grave, and the new chief, whoever they are, will be none the wiser.

“Where’s Fenrir? What did you do to him?” you whisper, breathing becoming more difficult by the second as you’re imagining all the ways he could kill you.

Surprisingly, Jeongguk lets go of your hand and stands up, backing a few steps. You chance a glance at him and see that he looks worried–there’s a crease in his forehead and his eyes are wide. 

“I haven’t done anything to him. He’s in the backyard.”

So he’s dead then. You don’t comment on it, instead you shut your eyes as another wave of tears runs down your cheeks. Like before, the rate at which you’re breathing increases, and you feel lightheaded, even as you’re sitting down.

“I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” he mumbles, and the sound of movement has you peeking in fear. “Just… hold on.”

For some reason, he’s backing out of the room, leaving you once again in the limbo of not knowing what he’s planning. The rain beats harshly against the roof, and the sound of thunder makes you jump. You hate storms, nothing good ever happens during them.

You feel yourself going insane, waiting for him, but he’s not gone for long this time. Do you prefer him in the room with you? At least then you know where he is and what he’s doing. It makes you anxious, not knowing. Maybe he’s pouring gasoline over the furniture, waiting to light a match?

Surprisingly, you watch as he returns to round the bed–away from you–and approaches the dresser. He rummages through the top drawer, searching for something, until he finds it and turns around. 

It’s when you see him, rounding the bed again–towards you–with the handcuffs in hand that you scramble back along the wall and into the corner. You remember how he teased you about it, arrogantly offering to tie you up, cuff you to the bed. If he’s planning on resuming what Hoseong started…

Noticing your distress, Jeongguk’s eyes grow wider, and he stops and stands in front of the bed with his hands raised.

“Oh, no, no, they’re not for you,” he explains, looking at you, sitting terrified in the corner. His eyes move from you to the silvery cuffs dangling from his hand and back again. “He cuffed you, didn’t he? Hoseong?”

You’re not sure where he’s going with it, but your guess has evolved. He wants to act sweet and like he cares so that you’ll give in and he can do whatever he wants to punish you, gloating about how he managed to trick you. The dumb feminazi falling for it and thinking he cares for her.

“Look.”

You do, watching anxiously as he opens one side of the handcuffs and locks it around his wrist. The other side, he closes around the metal bed frame, leaving about two yards between you. He sits down and throws the key, which lands at your feet.

“I can’t hurt you.”

You don’t think about the fact that even if the bed probably weighs a ton, Jeongguk could surely pull it with him if he wanted to reach you. No, you don’t know what you’re thinking about, if anything, you’re just so overwhelmed and scared and relieved that you barely have time to reach for the empty, gray plant pot before you’re throwing up. It’s just bile, proof that it’s been a while since you’ve eaten anything. 

Another thing you haven’t done is sleep. And for your poor, terrified, starved, and sleep-deprived body, it’s too much. As carefully as you can when the room is spinning, and someone is speaking in the background, you lie down, your cheek against the cold floor, and you pass out.

You’re still absolutely exhausted when you come to. It takes a while for your eyes to even open, and you can guess what a mess you must look like. Your head is pounding, surely from dehydration, and your entire body aches. At least some parts of you don’t feel that cold anymore–someone has thrown a duvet from the bed over you, covering your body pretty well except for your left foot and your right shoulder. You’re not trembling anymore, not even as your eyes find Jeongguk.

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but he’s still sitting there, across from you with his wrist cuffed to the bed. He’s moved the bedside table away in order to lean his back against the wall. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake yet–after all, you haven’t moved–and he keeps his eyes on his right hand that he rests atop his knees, his feet flat against the floor. 

You can’t help but think that he looks like he’s waiting patiently for something, maybe the train, worried that it might be late but understanding that there’s no use in pacing. As you observe him tiredly, you notice something very faintly, so faintly you’re not sure if you’re imagining it. It almost looks as if his eyes are puffier than usual, maybe just a tad bit red too. Like how people look when they were crying a long time ago. Now that you think about it, his hair looks a little messier than usual, and he’s unbuttoned a few buttons on his shirt, as well as the sleeves that he’s rolled up a tad.

A chill runs through your body, and slowly, you pull the duvet closer around your body, notifying Jeongguk of your consciousness.

“Are we waiting for your friends?” your voice is so strained, it comes out as a whisper.

He looks at you, smiling the saddest little smile you’ve ever seen on anyone, and he shakes his head. “No, I called Jihyo, and she’s on her way to pick you up. It’ll take her a while to get here but she’s on her way.”

You narrow your tired eyes slightly. He’s lying.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” he apologizes gently. “If I had, I wouldn’t…”

It’s the way he looks bothered that almost has you believing him. But you know just how good of an actor he is. He has despised you ever since he arrived at the district, commented on you and your body with disgust. Yet, you’ve seen how he’s capable of holding your hand in his, kissing you gently and like he means it. Only to go back to insulting you. 

“Everyone knows,” you state quietly, calling his bluff.

“I didn’t. And I’d never dream of hurting you, I promise.”

“You hate me more than anyone, Jeongguk.”

It really is true. Jeongguk obviously feels immense loyalty to his friends, and he’d do anything for them. He’s been one of the most vocal ones, letting everyone know just what a terrible, disgusting, worthless person you are.

“And I’ve gotten to know you pretty well since you transferred, especially here. You can say how sorry you are and how you didn’t know all you want, but I know you’re lying. I hurt your friend and now, with the chief retiring, I’m a threat. What would happen if the new chief is a woman and our station’s little secret gets out? Pretty unlikely, but not impossible, right?”

You swallow, blinking away tears. “You can lie all you want but we both know I was never going to make it back home.”

There’s something that looks like pain in his brown eyes as he watches you.

“I don’t hate you. I thought I did because–fuck–I thought the chief was protecting you by not dealing with the problem, not that he was protecting him. Us.”

His frustration turns into something reminding you of guilt when he continues. “You have no idea how sorry I am. And I can promise you, it’s never occurred to me to hurt you. Not physically, at least. I know I’ve been a dick to you–which is obviously coming back to bite me now–and I wanted to make you feel bad for what I thought you did, but I’d never want to injure you. No one has any plans on doing so.”

His words make you chuckle even though it’s not fun in the least. 

“What?” he looks confused.

“Do you think I’m stupid? Not only have I found the trackers you’ve put on my car, but you’ve tampered with the brakes on it three times in the last months. My mechanic keeps bugging me about filing a report, saying I shouldn’t drive any car for my own safety. How do I explain to her that I can’t exactly go to the police?”

Jeongguk only stares at you, and it makes you all the more frustrated.

“Obviously, I can’t say exactly which one of you is doing it, or who it is standing across the street from my home, just watching, late at night sometimes. Or whose breathing it is on the phone calls. Do you remember like three months ago when I made the mistake of getting coffee and stopping by the printer, leaving my mug unsupervised for three minutes? Who was it that put the fucking cyanide in it? You can tell them that it left a bit of suspiciously chunky foam on the surface.”

“Cyanide?”

“Yeah. Had it tested. You can also tell whoever it is that keeps throwing poisoned meat into my yard that I always check it before letting Fenrir out.”

Jeongguk is quiet, looking like someone just turned his world upside down.

“You really meant it when you said you thought I’d poison your food if you let me cook. That’s why you barely sleep too, right? You’re scared I’m going to hurt you. You brought the razor blades and the dog for me, didn’t you? You’re more scared of me than of the suspects.”

“Why on earth do you think I have a trained personal protection Doberman to begin with?”

Jeongguk puts his face in his free hand, “Fuck, I’m so stupid. I had no idea.”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly, closing your eyes for a second. You know Jeongguk is only playing with you because there’s just no chance he’s gone so long being besties with a rapist and attempted murderer without knowing. Partaking in harassment without knowing the reason why? No, no way. But does it matter at the moment? No, probably not.

“Why did you agree to come here?” he asks, sounding almost… helpless? “If you thought it was a setup?”

“Well,” you start, pain spreading through your exhausted body. Your lips pull into a small, sad smile. “I can’t exactly decline anything at work or I won’t have a job to go to. With the kind of letter of recommendation the chief would leave me, no one else would hire me. Besides, we both know I wouldn’t be safe just by quitting.”

The smile fades, and a tear escapes the corner of your eyes, dropping toward the floor. “And frankly… I can’t do it anymore. It’s been two years, and it only escalates. I don’t have the energy to always look over my shoulder, or lock and barricade my doors and windows at night. I can’t afford to have my car fixed every or every other month, and one day, I’ll miss something, or you’ll go after my mother. It’s just a matter of time.”

“So you… came here, convinced that… I was going to kill you?”

Slowly, you move a hand to your face, wiping the tear away. “Yeah. I mean, I always hoped things wouldn’t end up this way. Or that, at least I could defend myself from… prolonged pain. But at the same time, I knew nothing would change. And I… I promised myself that I’d try my best to be brave and not fight it cause it’s going to happen sooner or later, but… well, I’m evidently not very brave. I’m a coward, coming here to die but still fighting it and begging you to spare my life.”

Then again, the last couple of days have made you doubt yourself. If Jeongguk came after you with a knife, could you… hurt him? With Hoseong, it was a no-brainer, and you fought for your life on pure instinct, only making a conscious effort not to shoot him where he wouldn’t survive it. 

But Jeongguk? He hates your guts, finds you disgusting, and is a man like them all. But as you look at him now, you see the way he held baby Doyun’s hand at the barbeque, and you see him playing and cuddling with Fenrir when no one’s looking. You remember the feeling of his hair between your fingers as he rests his head in your lap, and his gentle hands around your waist. You walked into the trap, and you got trapped. You couldn’t hurt him.

“So, I’m essentially your… terminal illness,” he speaks, looking at you sadly. Your eyes widen. “Eunha told me; said she wanted me to take care of my wife. But you’re not sick, are you?”

“No.”

“Fuck,” he shuts his eyes tightly before opening them and looking straight at you with a pained look, “I know you don’t believe me, but I’ve never regretted anything more in my entire life. I thought I was doing the right thing, but instead, I–fuck, I made you apologize? For–”

He hides his face in his free hand again. “I am so sorry.”

It’s hard not to believe him when he looks and sounds so genuine, but you’ve experienced his talent before. Not only that, but he’s a man–he’s not capable of caring for you.

“You said you called Jihyo?” you speak, ignoring his fake apology. 

He removes his hand from his face and nods. “Yeah, she should be here in an hour or so, I think.”

“Okay, say you actually did, why would you? She’d bring unwanted attention and risk unnecessary suspicion. Or maybe you’re just trying to kill two birds with one stone, literally?”

Jeongguk’s face remains soft even as you’re practically insulting him.

“I called her to pick you up because you trust her, and this is no place for you to be right now.”

“But you’re risking the mission. We’ve got a breakthrough but it isn’t all the way through yet, and the bugs still have almost a week’s worth of battery life left. The last thing you want is for them to become suspicious and search for the bugs.”

You don’t know why you’re so intent on letting him know just how thoroughly you see through him. Perhaps you’re simply so used to always having to prove yourself, your capacity and intelligence around men that you can’t let him think you’re nothing more than a dumb girl. You saw through everything, and he needs to know that. 

“You think I give a fuck about the mission when I literally just saw you throw up because you’re so scared of me? I’ve handcuffed myself to the bed, but you’re still shaking in the corner, looking terrified.”

At his words, you realize he’s right. You didn’t even notice the return of the tremors, and they’re not because you’re cold underneath the duvet. Thunder sounds again.

“I promise you,” he starts, looking into your eyes with what looks like a determined sort of kindness, “I’ll do my very best to make things right.”

You wouldn’t have known what to say even if you weren’t interrupted by the sound of a car. Worried but still relieved to finally see Jihyo, you carefully sit up, and then you stand, feeling weak but almost… hopeful. Maybe you’ll get out alive, after all?

But that hope is soon replaced by an ice cold chill running down your spine and filling your stomach as you peer out through the window and onto the cars that have stopped below. It’s not Jihyo. 

You take a step back from the window right as at least two men are exiting the cars, one holding an aluminum baseball bat.

“You… you called… your friends,” you state quietly, feeling dumb for not foreseeing it. He was stalling, and you fell for it. “You’ll be taking turns until I…”

Jeongguk says something, a few rushed sentences, but you’re already exiting the room, not entirely sure why or what your plan is. The sound of his handcuffs rustling against the bed frame sounds as you’re descending the stairs onto the dark bottom floor. 

Should you try to find a way out? Is there one? Jeongguk is stuck upstairs, but you stand no chance against even one man in your current state. Not to mention that you’re unarmed. Where’d Jeongguk’s knife go? Your razor blade? Last you remember, you had it before you passed out. 

You’re so in your thoughts that you don’t hear the footsteps closing in on you from behind. 

“I confronted them, and I guess they’re mad. We’ll go out back, okay?” a familiar voice speaks quietly right above your ear, making you jump. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you, just come with me.”

You turn around, meeting Jeongguk’s eyes. He holds his hand out, no trace of the cuffs. How did he get free?

“I saw them from the window, and there’s four of them. They’re surely armed with more than just the baseball bat, but we might manage to sneak out through the back if we hurry.”

You look at his hand in the darkness.

“Trust me,” he encourages gently, “I’ve got you.”

For some odd reason, you meet his honest-looking but also worried and stressed eyes. And you put your hand in his. It’s warm, and he starts to pull you with him towards the back door.

However, stopping you in your tracks, one of the kitchen windows has been left open, and hushed voices sound through the crack.

“Absolutely no shots, okay? In and out, basically.”

Well, you guess that’s a good thing? You and Jeongguk exchange glances, and he mumbles something about his own gun being in the car. You’re just about to continue when the front door is unlocked. They have a key? Fuck, they must’ve gone to the station in search of the address and key before coming here.

The door glides open, and in steps Hoseong. And then Ryung with Seunghwan in tow. The last person inside is Junseo.

Hoseong stops when he spots you, a smile breaking out on his lips. “Well…”

“Leave,” Jeongguk orders, pulling you behind his body. A thousand thoughts are swirling around in your head, but you’re none the wiser. Any minute now, Jeongguk could start laughing at how you thought he’d protect you. Or, he could be genuine, but what sucks about that scenario is that there’s no way Jeongguk could take them all. Four against one.

“We can’t. Look, I thought we got each other, Jeongguk? Bros before hoes and all that? Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems like you might be causing us some trouble?”

Peeking from behind Jeongguk, you’re really not a fan of how Hoseong twists the bat in his hand, and your heart is freaking out.

“Technically, you caused the trouble all by yourself,” Jeongguk argues, visibly furious.

Then, before you know it, Hoseong lunges, and Jeongguk pushes you back, out of the way before he’s dodging too. Your heart is in your throat as you watch Hoseong swing at Jeongguk multiple times, Jeongguk dodging all of them before finding an opening and delivering a swift blow to Hosoeng’s head. Behind them, you spot Ryung’s dark eyes locking onto you, and you gulp.

All while Jeongguk somehow manages to grab the bat–which is good considering he’s fighting both Hoseong and Seonghwan–Ryung waits for his opening. Junseo, you don’t even know where he went.

Ryung’s chance comes when Jeongguk aims a powerful kick at Hoseong’s side, sending him flying into the kitchen table and knocking two of the chairs over and Jeongguk to the floor. Hoseong wheezes, like he got the wind knocked out of him.

Ryung decides to take the opportunity, setting off for you, but before he can reach you, he’s intercepted, Jeongguk’s wide shoulders knocking him off his path and into the fridge. While he gets back up, Jeongguk bashes Seunghwan’s head against the countertop once, and he falls down, groaning in pain. Jeongguk is about to follow, but Ryung grabs his shoulders, and manages to get Jeongguk on the ground and climb on top of him. 

You watch as Jeongguk swings the bat, Ryung catching it, but as his hands are preoccupied with it, Jeongguk uses all his strength and connects his fist with Ryung’s face so hard that you hear things crack and see blood spurt. As a result, Ryung falls off and to the floor, lying on his side. 

It’s at that moment you spot Junseo. He’s at Hoseong’s side–Hoseong who’s just gotten up–and is giving him something. Hoseong’s sinister and angry eyes find yours as he accepts the samurai sword.

Then, he’s running. 

It doesn’t take more than a split second for you to decide. You shut your eyes, preparing for the pain and the force that will surely knock you over. The force comes first, but there’s no pain, at least not for a while. It’s like Hoseong is… hugging you?

Surprised, you open your eyes, only to see that the person holding you in their arms is not Hoseong. It’s Jeongguk. Then, you become aware of the pain, a sort of… uncomfortable pin prick to your chest, only bigger? 

You look down between your bodies. There’s a hole in your t-shirt and you’re pretty sure the wetness on your skin is blood. What happened? 

Jeongguk coughs above you, and that’s when you see that the tip of the sword that’s digging into your skin is coming out of his chest. 

Even in your shocked state, you recognize the shape of the item he’s shakily stuffing into your hand. The car key.

“You need to…” he starts, his voice strained. He stumbles, and you see blood coloring his bottom lip. “...Get out of here.”

Suddenly, he groans loudly, and you feel the sword scratch your skin before Jeongguk is sinking to his knees. Behind him, Hoseong is twisting the handle roughly. Then, he lets go, letting Jeongguk’s body fall limply to the floor.

“See what you made me do?” Hoseong hisses at you, stepping over Jeongguk.

He’s caught off guard when you kick him, aiming your foot for the exact spot in which you shot him two years ago. He stumbles, his knee hitting the floor, but then he surprises you by grabbing your foot, and you fall, hitting your head against the floor. You groan in pain, lying flat on your back and seeing Hoseong stand up above you.

But before he can end you, there are gunshots. 

You’re not looking, but you hear Hoseong shout in pain, then a lot of shuffling and two other male voices you can’t quite place. 

All that you’re seeing is Jeongguk. He lies beside you, on his stomach, the long samurai sword he hung on that wall himself sticking out from his back. There’s blood, a lot of it. Some from his mouth and more from his chest and his back. You don’t need to examine him more to know that he’s already dead, that sword went straight through his heart with no chance of missing it, and there’s no surviving that. 

A face comes into view above you, and it takes your pounding head a good second to recognize it. Yoongi.

He meets your teary yet defeated eyes, and you open your mouth. “He’s dead.”

It’s both a question and a quiet statement, the side of your hand touching the side of Jeongguk’s. His eyes are closed, his face blank and void of any life, and you feel empty inside.

Through blurry tears, you see Yoongi look Jeongguk over. Then, gently and with a sad crease between his eyebrows, he nods. Abandoning Jeongguk’s lifeless body, he instead focuses on you. He tries to keep you awake, but something wet and warm pools underneath your own head, and soon enough, you can’t keep your eyes open any longer.

<previous | next>

hey pals... let me know what you think RIP <3

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.

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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)!!