IM SO MAD THIS NEED TO STOP RIGHT NOW
Katherine Larson, from Radial Symmetry; “Gardens in Tunisia”
[Text ID: “There are days that walk through me / and I cannot hold them.”]
221213 - bts on twitter: our hyung!! Come back safely!! 💜 Love you 💜
summary: in which jungkook loves you, and he wants you both to eat well.
> fluff, slight angst / wc: 3.4k
> warnings: yn doesn’t have a very healthy relationship with food :( + jungkook’s spit? 😭
note: this has always been in my drafts and i guess i was lowkey scared because it gets personal, but i finally wrote it :D
—
“sometimes it feels like i’m only eating for the sake of survival, you know? so i can’t be too bothered to cook, or care if it doesn’t taste good when i do.”
once again, your casual words from a long time ago echo in jungkook’s mind this fine sunday morning, as he works hard to perfectly fold the omelette on the pan.
he smiles to himself when he succeeds. he hums a song as he places it on top of the hot kimchi rice on your plate, sitting beside his with the not-so-successful, practice round omelette. that’s when he hears the familiar sound of your fluffy slippers dragging against the floor, too sleepy and tired to make an effort to do proper steps. he carefully sets down the two plates infront of the chairs facing each other, before meeting you halfway at the entrance of the kitchen.
“morning, baby.” he chirps his greeting as he wraps his arms around you, but you hold onto his muscled biceps to stop him.
“back hurts.” you cry out quietly, turning around to clasp your hands together around your nape. he chuckles, understanding what you’re asking him to do in a heartbeat.
he wraps his arms around you again before picking you up effortlessly, making sure to support your elbows as he leans back and squeezes you. you moan in satisfaction when you feel the cracks, relief instantly rushing into your veins as you feel significantly lighter. when he brings your feet back to the ground, you turn around and embrace him properly with your arms around his waist. you bury your face in the smell of your boyfriend’s favorite fabric softener, brain so hazy you almost fall back into sleep.
“feel better?” he asks to confirm, soothingly rubbing your back, putting pressure here and there- around your shoulder blades. this is why he scolds you about your posture regularly, because you are a stubborn creature of habit.
“breakfast smells good.” you stand on your toes to take a peek of the food over his shoulder. “and that’s a lot of rice.”
“just eat what you can finish then.” he kisses your forehead before pulling away to head towards the dining table again. “where do you want to eat?”
“living room.” you reply while rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, feeling uncomfortable because of the hair framing your face being damp after you freshened up. “want to watch queer eye. so they can inspire me to clean.”
jungkook brings out a wooden tray from the shelf. he carefully places the two plates, two glasses, and a pitcher of cold water. “i can clean instead. you rest. don’t you need to study for your exam later?”
“i’d rather clean than study.” you pout, following his footsteps leading to the living room. “i hate it more than cleaning.”
“what about jungkook?”
“what about you?” you plop down on the couch, knees on your chest as you sink into the cushion. he sets down the tray on the center table, and it produces a thump sound. “i love you.”
with a radiant smile, he offers you a plate. “wait,” you mumble, putting a pillow over your lap before taking it from his hands.
“ah!” his eyes widen with late realization. “i forgot the utensils. hold on.”
he speedwalks to and from the kitchen, and you turn on the television to play the episode you’re going to watch.
this day began with you thinking that you don’t have much of an appetite, but after the first spoonful of your favorite kimchi fried rice jungkook special with a bite-sized piece of omelette on top, you became unstoppable.
he steals a glance every now and then, delighted to see your plump cheeks devouring the food that he cooked. the joy it brings him never changes, no matter how many times he has served you his food. you make him feel loved and appreciated, and most of all, happy when you’re eating well.
needless to say, he’s been worried. you have been eating less than the usual, finishing the food in no more than ten minutes so you could go back to doing school works right away.
“my busy bee.” he sighed, squatting infront of you.
you looked up from your laptop, straightening your posture when you realized you were hunching over again.
“hi,” he greeted you again, fixing your glasses before it completely slid off your nose bridge. he could see the reflection of a research article reflecting on the lens.
you scrunched your nose, the simple action making you blush. “hi, my love. need anything?”
“just came by to give you a snack.”
he inched the bowl of assorted nuts mixed with colorful m&m’s closer to you. they reminded you of the highlights decorating your notes.
“i mixed them myself.”
you could tell. you have never seen a trail mix with these many types of nuts in your life. “chopped the nuts yourself too?”
“of course.” he grinned proudly before pointing at the m&m’s. “that’s dark chocolate too.”
a look of bewilderment painted your face. “dark m&m’s exist?!”
jungkook tucks your hair behind your ear so it won’t get into your food. pretty, he thinks to himself when you give him an appreciative smile.
he finishes his food first, gulping down his glass of water as he watches a guy have a makeover in preparation for his marriage proposal to his girlfriend.
you finish yours as well, leaving your plate on the tray as you chew on the final bite. by no exaggeration, you did not leave a single grain of rice.
“oh, my baby! you finally ate well.” he beams, pinching your cheek lightly.
“i got inspired to clean my plate because the food was yummy.” you praise him, slumping against his side after drinking three gulps of water.
“i’m proud of you. you should wear the angel pajamas tonight.” his tattooed hand squeezes your thigh, covered by seokjin’s devil pajamas from the artist-made collection.
his suggestion makes you chuckle, finding the character holding a pitchfork printed on the cloth adorable. “should i?”
—
you and jungkook eat samgyupsal for dinner, because apparently, last night wasn’t enough to satisfy his craving. but you barely ate yesterday that you forgot that you even had it, which you suspect is part of the reason why he wants to have it again. and you’re grateful, because you can enjoy it with an appetite this time.
“here, baby. eat your greens.” he wraps a piece of the freshly grilled meat in lettuce, feeding it to you with a happy grin.
your jaw works extra hard to chew the leaf occupying most of your mouth. “that was too big. the ratio was totally off!” you whine while reaching for the glass of water to push it down.
“it was? sorry.” but he doesn’t look or sound guilty, especially when he opens his mouth widely to stuff it full of his favorite food. with waaay more meat than lettuce.
you scoff, putting the cooked strips of samgyupsal in his bowl before laying out more on the grill. he tries taking the tongs from you to take over, but you put your hand behind you with a pout.
“let me. this is only the time i can cook without messing it up.”
it wouldn’t be shocking to learn that you do get insecure about your lack of cooking skills. look, you’ve tried. you lived alone for years before moving in with jungkook. there was no other choice but to try. about a couple million times. you followed the recipes, followed your instincts next. you didn’t like eating your undercooked or overcooked, too salty or too bland food— but eating outside everyday wasn’t a luxury you had. over time, it came to feel like a chore. eating. and you hated yourself for it, all because you couldn’t get shit right. it was not the right way to live, but you felt stuck.
so perhaps it was natural that you gravitated towards jungkook. jungkook who has the patience for cooking. puts the perfect amount of seasonings. has incredible chopping skills. watches cooking shows religiously. jungkook who enjoys food with his entire body. makes brain food when you study. jungkook who is feeding the both of you while you grill the meat because he just learned that you enjoy holding the tongs more than you’re afraid of oil splattering.
“this is only lettuce,” it starts off as a mere statement of observation, until it fully registers in your brain. “jungkook, i swear to god- if you don’t stop feeding me grass!”
after dinner, you go straight to studying to prepare for your test on tuesday. the center table of the living room being clattered with your study materials is a very familiar sight, somehow jungkook finds himself feeling fond of it, as he sits on the carpeted floor next to you. he has earbuds on, an audiobook paused on his tablet.
“hi. this seat isn’t taken, is it?” he sends a charming smile your way, his knee brushing against yours as he makes himself comfortable.
“well, it is now.” you roll your eyes jokingly, twirling the blue highlighter using your fingers as you try to retain the terms you’re reading inside your brain.
“i’m studying, too. english.” he makes space for his device, collecting the stray sheets of paper scattered on the table before tucking them in between one of your notebooks.
“do you have a test, too?”
“kind of?” he answers, sounding enthusiastic as he grooves and bounces to no music. he’s the exact opposite of you. “i have a schedule with my teacher on tuesday too. i want to make him proud that i did advanced reading.”
jungkook makes all of the people in his life proud. he is never not eager to learn— mistakes or fallbacks only motivate him to pour more of his time and effort into getting things right. putting aside the sad pouts, frustrated whines usually consisting of no, no, this is not it or please let me do it again or i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing wrong; and the tsk sound he makes as he tilts his head to the side as if he’s trying to knock some sense to himself before he tries again. what matters most is that he tries again and again and again, and he makes you want to do the same, too. you think of him when you want to give up, when things feel unbearable. you channel the willpower he thrives on because sometimes you forget that you don’t want to be a weak person, and you just need a little push to be reminded of that.
there is a sense of contentment and peace in the atmosphere as you study in your own little bubbles. you’re still memorizing while jungkook reads the story out loud with the narrator every now and then to practice his pronunciation. he uses his phone to search for the meaning of unfamiliar words. he decided that petrichor is one of the most beautiful words he’s learned so far.
he entertains you during your ten-minute break, peeling another orange as he speaks out his mind about something that he is both curious and annoyed about. “why are there so many words with a lot of different meanings? it’s too difficult. my brain has not much space left!”
you’re not really given a chance to speak because he feeds you a slice of orange, then himself, then you again. you can only smile in amusement with your mouth full, gathering the seeds at the corner of your tongue before spitting them out on the tissue he laid out.
you go back to studying, and he finishes up twenty minutes and two more oranges later. he plays around with the peels he carefully worked hard on not breaking earlier, making you a bracelet instead of the choker he originally wanted because of the warning look you gave him when he tried putting it on you.
he crawls on the couch you’re leaning on, scrolling through his phone for a few minutes until he grows restless again. he drags his body downward, folding his knees to level with you.
“are you almost finished?” he asks hopefully, his warm breath fanning on the shell of your ear.
you flinch with a giggle, rubbing your ear against your shoulder to make the tickle go away. “yup. just need to go over them again real quick.”
“okaaay.” he replies cutely. he suddenly gets up to leave the room, and you frown sadly when you find yourself alone again. the sound of the air purifier is almost deafening- it mocks you. reminds you of all the times you wished on ceilings for someone to make this silence bearable at most. you sigh, taking off your glasses to rest your tired eyes for a moment.
you crack your eyes open again when you feel your boyfriend’s presence infront of you.
“are you done now?” he repeats his question, holding up your angel pajamas he mentioned this morning. more than that, he’s wearing his own set, too. the first two buttons of the top undone. this is the first time you’re seeing him wear it, and butterflies erupt in your stomach at the thought of him wearing it because he wants to match with you.
so even though you’re not exactly done, you say yes anyway. you change into the pajamas, and exclaim “i’m already brushing my teeth!” with a mouth full of toothpaste when jungkook peeks into the bathroom to ask if you want a sandwich for your midnight snack.
—
it’s a reflex at this point, your feet carrying you to wherever jungkook is. the bus you get on from the university to his company, the three-minute walk it takes to get there from the bus stop. the smell lingering in the air changes with every five steps as you pass by the restaurants and street vendors. your stomach grumbles pathetically.
so when jungkook opens the door with his lips attached to his bottle filled with his favorite chocolate-flavored protein shake that you (not so) secretly take a sip or two of every now and then, your hands reach for it immediately.
“what the-” he looks down at his empty hands, and then back at you taking small sips from the bottle as you spin around on his chair.
he shuts the door before catching the armrest to make the chair stop, standing infront of you with his arms crossed. “did you just steal from me?”
you smile at him innocently, his tall frame towering over you. you clutch the bottle tightly in your hand, wary of him taking it away. “what’s yours is mine, right?”
“then you get mad at me using your shaver once-”
“it’s my shaver.” you retort, in disbelief with the example he has given. and it was definitely not just once. “that’s totally different!”
he pouts so big his cupid’s bow touches the tip of his nose. “that has my saliva in it.”
you raise an eyebrow. “so? atleast it’s chocolate-flavored this time. your spit tastes like spit.”
“what does it taste like exactly?”
“water with a hint of mint?”
he sighs in defeat. nothing he says ever phase you, so why does he still try? so instead, he sits on your lap.
“yah, jungkook!” you gasp, hitting his back with your fists. femur, the strongest bone of the body- this must be the reason why god made them that way.
“you’re so- heavy! move!”
“no! give me back my protein shake!”
“i finished it! there was like three sips left, you dummy!” you groan, pushing him off with all your strength. he gets nudged off a little, and that’s your window of opportunity to make a move. you quickly part your thighs, and his butt ends up falling in the space between.
“here-” you hang your arm over his shoulder, waving the bottle infront of his face. he takes it from your hand, shaking it to check if you really finished it.
you didn’t. you just wanted to bicker.
he gulps down what is left with a satisfied hum, putting back the cover before setting it down on the left side of his table, far away from his equipment. he leans his back against you, reaching for your hands to wrap them around his waist. still heavy, but bearable.
if the protein shake wasn’t enough of an indication that he just finished working out, his damp hair touches your cheek. you shiver lightly at the coldness.
he clicks his tongue, staring at the ocean displayed as the wallpaper of his computer. “i’m hungry.”
at that, you feel your stomach grumble again. “me too.”
“did you eat the breakfast i left at the table?”
“i woke up late. i’m sorry.” you jut out your bottom lip, upset that you weren’t able to eat the food he prepared for you. “i put the berries in a lunchbox and ran out of the house.”
his lips brush against your cheek before he puckers them up to plant a kiss. “it’s okay. i picked the berries myself. went to three different farms.”
“now you’re just lying.” you flick his neck without force, and he winces dramatically. “i bought those at the supermarket.”
“but i bought the blueberries. now kiss it better.” he counters, pointing at his neck.
so needy and dramatic.
your arms wrap around his waist again to tug him closer. instead of kissing the part that you flicked, you go the other way to kiss his mole. your favorite, after the one under his lip. the light touch prompts jungkook’s heart to do somersaults inside his ribcage.
he intertwines his hand with yours over his stomach, and you end up back hugging him with your weight leaning forward. “how did your test go?”
“wasn’t sure about two questions, but i think i did pretty good.”
“hmm, that’s my baby.” he rasps, kissing the back of your hand.
you hide the overly pleased smile on your face, resting your cheek on his shoulder. “how ‘bout you?”
“oh, english is my next schedule. let’s go grab lunch first.” he checks his black wrist watch. “we have more than an hour. what do you want to eat?”
“sushi!” you blurt out, excitedly shaking his shoulders.
“okay!” he responds with the same level of enthusiasm, standing up from the chair to face you. “let’s get gimbap!”
“sushi.” you whine out, using the strength of your legs to anchor yourself to the chair when he tugs at your hand.
“but gimbap is better. let’s go.”
he laughs out loud when the chair starts rolling along with you as he tugs you towards the door. “you can’t bring the chair to the restaurant!”
you shake your head stubbornly. “love, sushi. i’ll order the ones with fish this time.”
“you? eating fish that isn’t tuna?” he raises an eyebrow skeptically. “i don’t trust you.”
“i’ll give them another chance. you can trust me this time.” you bat your eyelashes, making good use of your charms.
you will seriously try, but knowing yourself well, there is a 90% chance that your boyfriend will have to get them wrapped up for take-out and then order your usual.
and knowing him well too, he’s not difficult to persuade. “alright, sushi. let’s get it!”
“wait. my bag-” you turn back, reaching for the khaki shoulder bag you left on the couch.
“just leave it, baby. we’ll come back anyway.” he says impatiently, circling his arm around your waist to bring you outside of the studio with him.
“but i need my wallet because i’ll buy our lunch.” you scold him as you punch in the code of the locked door.
his face lights up comically at the mention of free food. “ah, really? then can i have ramen, too? oh! takoyaki!”
you roll your eyes at the cheeky smile on his lips, stepping foot inside his studio again. “okay. order anything you want.”
—
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this look!!!
park jimin’s precious old soul
I love this genre of bts' pics
it's a good day.
Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.
"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."
"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.
Spouses.
pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader
genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)
word count: 6k
warnings: self-esteem issues, feelings
rating: NC-17 – Adults Only
masterlist
part 15/?
<previous | next>
© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.
The ride home lasts ten minutes, during which you’re holding back tears the entire time. It’s only when you’re finally inside your own apartment that you let them fall. It doesn’t help to see Fenrir’s collar and leash hanging next to your jackets, or his bowls still on the floor. In a way, it feels like you’re back at square one.
You know you promised Jeongguk you’d call Jihyo, but you don’t, knowing she’d disapprove of you being on your own probably just as much as he does. Still, realizing that sooner or later you’ll need to either get back to work or find another job, you send her a text, asking if there’s any case for you to work on remotely until you’re ready to return fully.
The first night back is emotional, but you’re relieved to finally be home.
“I don’t think it matters how hard you throw it,” a worried Jimin watches Jeongguk hurl a dart at the dartboard. “Actually, I’m pretty sure you’d see better results if you didn’t throw it like an Olympic javelin thrower.”
Jeongguk doesn’t reply, just rolls his eyes and grabs another dart. The music around them is surprisingly quiet, drowned out by the chatter of the bustling bar.
“So, care to tell me what’s up with him?” Jin asks, nodding toward Jeongguk as he sets the three pints of beer on the table and takes a seat.
“His little lady left him,” Jimin explains sadly, sliding one of the pints closer to Jeongguk.
“Oh. Why? You weren’t a couple, were you?” Jin asks.
“No,” is all Jeongguk mutters before he heads over to the dartboard to retrieve the darts. He has three of them, but only one actually hit the board; the other two embarrassingly stuck to the wood-paneled wall. From the marks already there, he’s at least not the first terrible dart-thrower. When he returns to the table with all the darts in hand, he pushes his designated pint back toward Jimin. “Can’t drink.”
Jimin meets his eyes, looking defeated. Jeongguk already explained that when you’re not with him, he can’t risk being drunk in case you need him. If you called, saying Hoseong had found you, Jeongguk would not hesitate to get on his bike or in his car, no matter how much he’s had to drink, and driving under the influence is something he’d rather avoid.
“She’s scared of me,” he repeats what you told him a few nights ago. Hearing the words from his own mouth stings less, but his heart still aches and his blood boils. He throws another dart but misses the board, and it sticks to the wall a few inches left of it.
“Wait. What do you mean?” Jin asks, confusion written all over his face.
“Yeah. Although I’m pretty sure she hasn’t ruled out that I’ll just snap one day and kill her, she’s mostly scared that I’ll want to hurt her emotionally.”
“But why would you? I thought you two were doing alright? I mean, she’s been living with you for, what, the last month?”
“We were. Or at least, I thought so. She kissed me, and we were… getting closer, but I guess it freaked her out.”
“Why?”
“Remember how I told you I was horrible to her before I found out what Hoseong had done? Yeah, the things I said… they were inhumane.”
“What did you say?”
Jeongguk throws another dart, swinging his arm and using way too much force. “What haven’t I said? I’ve told her that she’s too ugly for me to look at, that she needs to stop eating, that she’s incompetent, and that she basically deserved being trafficked if only the traffickers would take her. That’s the short version.”
“Fuck, man,” Jimin breathes in disbelief. Jeongguk told him what happened ages ago but not explicitly what he’d said to you.
“Yeah. I just… I wanted her to hurt, to pay for what I thought she’d done, but she never seemed affected. I’d call her something, and she’d flip me off or glare at me or call me an idiot or whatever, but she never… I thought she didn’t care, so the next time I saw her, I said something worse. But I wouldn’t have, obviously, if I… If I… knew.”
Jin puts his glass down, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “I mean, I haven’t met her, but isn’t she, like, objectively very pretty? From what I’ve heard?”
“Yeah, she is,” Jeongguk sighs. “Which is also why I didn’t think she’d take it to heart, ‘cause what I said isn’t true in the slightest.”
“But can’t she see how pathetically in love you are? No offense,” Jimin asks. “I mean, I take it you’ve apologized and probably told her what you really think? She doesn’t trust that?”
Jeongguk falls silent as he retrieves the darts again, shamefully avoiding eye contact with his friends on his way back.
“Wait, you haven’t apologized?”
“Of course I have,” he argues before lowering his voice. “I just kinda… fucked it up.”
He feels the confused stares of his friends. “I’ve apologized many, many times for how I treated her, and she seemed to kinda accept that? But I never explicitly apologized for the things I said. Nor have I told her how I actually feel about her.”
He sees how Jimin is about to tell him exactly what he thinks about that, but Jeongguk cuts him off before he's able to.
“After I somehow convinced her to stay with me, I thought carefully about how to act around her. I thought that it would be better to apologize for… everything. I thought ‘I’m sorry for how I treated you’ would cover it. And I didn’t want her to second-guess my intentions, so I didn’t actually tell her what I really think.”
“You mean ‘second-guess your intentions’ as in…” Jin trails off.
“As in think that I chose to help her because I was interested in her. I didn’t want her to think I had an agenda or to feel like she’d owe me in any way. She hasn’t had the best experience with men—men in law enforcement, especially—so I wanted to be as… safe, I guess, as possible for her. I didn’t realize she was still thinking about it, taking what I said as the truth.”
Jimin sighs. “So she thinks you might still consider her the ugliest creature to walk the earth is what you’re saying?”
“Apparently. I tried to convince her before she left, but of course, it didn’t seem genuine. I don’t blame her.”
A bit more optimistic, Jin tilts his head. “You don’t think she’ll believe you if you just tell her exactly what you just told us?”
But Jeongguk lets his shoulders slump. “I don’t think so. She told me I scare her because I have a desire to hurt anyone who wrongs me, and she doesn’t feel like she can read me. And I believe her. I wanted to hurt her, and during the mission, I had to pretend to love her when I really didn’t, so I kept switching up on her.”
The atmosphere shifts from frustrated and sad to just sad as Jeongguk runs his thumb over the dart in his hand.
“I lose either way. If I tell her that what I said back then was true, then I think she’s ugly, and I wanted to hurt her by saying so. But if I say that I lied and that she’s really the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, then I still wanted to hurt her. And after everything she’s been through, she doesn’t want a man with a desire to hurt.”
“But like you said, you didn’t mean to hurt her to that point, more so to be taken down a notch? And it got out of hand?”
“Is there a difference? I’ve hurt her, probably beyond what is salvageable, and she thinks I’m still capable of that; that if we disagree on something, I might turn on her.”
With a deep breath, you pull open the doors to the police station one chilly Monday morning, the sky outside gray and heavy with the threat of snow. It’s been three weeks since you came home, and though Jihyo put up a fight, she eventually agreed to let you stay.
Since months have passed, and you still haven’t caught Hoseong and his crew, you figure you might as well try to get back to normal. So you started planning your return to work, but then Christmas came, which you spent at your mother’s, two hours away.
Jihyo also agreed not to tell Jeongguk about your living arrangements, per your desperate request. You’d rather not deal with his savior complex, and you know he’d park outside your building if he thought you were in danger. You scoff to yourself, but almost immediately, guilt settles in. A savior complex isn’t why he’s worried about you; he’s just a good guy. You know that. Still, you don’t want him to know.
Walking through the station at nine a.m.—on your way to Jihyo’s office to discuss your new assignment—you almost hold your breath. Some officers glance your way, still not used to seeing you back, and maybe even less used to seeing you without Jeongguk. Or maybe they know you had a “falling out?” Would he tell anyone here? Jihyo, maybe, if she didn’t already know, but you’re not sure if he’d tell anyone else; his closest friends besides Jimin don’t work at this station anyway. And Jimin probably wouldn’t gossip about you either.
Jihyo is waiting for you when you reach the door to her office, calling out for you to come in as soon as you knock.
“Hey,” you say, closing the door behind you.
“Hey. Want a donut?” she asks from behind her desk, happily pointing to the open box, a half-eaten donut in hand and what you assume is part of the other half in her mouth.
“Nah, I’m good,” you grin, sitting down in front of her.
“Alright,” she says, swallowing and wiping some crumbs from her lap. “So, I’ve been looking over your request and proposed methods.”
You watch as she pulls her laptop in front of her, setting the donut down on the table, and starts scrolling.
“And I’d say it’s very reasonable if we’re okay with the risks.”
“I don’t think there are any risks at all, actually,” you argue softly. “We parted on good terms.”
“Yeah, I know. And they played a part in your survival. But I’m still gonna need to have a risk analysis performed. Who would you want to go with you? I could assign Sana, I think, if you want her? She’s on an assignment right now, but we’re hoping they’ll be done by Wednesday, give or take.”
“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”
“No problem. I’m glad to see you back and wanting to work on what matters to you. I know the chief—ex-chief—did his best to be a pain in the ass for you.”
“Yeah. I can’t wait until the investigation’s finished, honestly. He deserves to rot in jail.”
“Agreed. I haven’t heard anything else from the higher-ups, so they’re probably still elbow-deep in it. Anyway, if you have any details you’d like to show me, I’m all ears.”
Your smile grows, and you reach into your bag for your laptop and notebook.
“Thanks,” you smile, standing up an hour later with your bag in hand. But before you exit her office and close the door behind you, you glance back at Jihyo. “By the way, I’m so glad you got the job. You deserve it more than anyone.”
“Thank you. It’s been… rough, these last couple of months. A lot to do and a lot of stress and pressure, but I think it’s worth it. And I’ve had help, making it easier for me to adjust.”
You know who she’s talking about; you don’t need to hear a name.
“He asks about you, you know.”
Holding onto the door, you look away. You’re well aware of what Jeongguk has done for not only you but also Jihyo, Sana, and the entire police station.
“Let me avoid him for at least another month. Then you can tell him whatever you want, and I can try to be a better colleague. But now? I can’t… I don’t…”
Jihyo looks at you, seeing the pain well up in your eyes when you think about the reason you left his house that night. If you can just have another month to force the warm, yet invalid and hurt feelings you have for him back into the box they broke out of when you first kissed him, you can try to be more civil with him. Hell, you’ll even work with him if he can keep it professional as well.
Jihyo nods, sad but understanding. After all, she had a front-row seat when he used to tear you bloody.
For another hour, you sit at an empty desk, excitedly looking over the preliminary plan that starts on Thursday. You can’t believe it’s about to actually become reality.
Step one:
Preliminary timeframe: Thursday.
Possible obstacles and risks: Low risk of hostility or danger.
Safety measures: Two detectives, civilian clothes, civilian car, concealed firearms.
Step two: Plan A or B, depending on what you find, if anything.
With your notes full of prepared questions, you rise from the chair, deeming it time to leave the station for the day. As you stand there, organizing your papers, movement catches your eye, and you look up just in time to see Jimin enter the big room. And of course, who does he have in tow if not Jeon Jeongguk, dressed, like so often, in the academy's navy crewneck and uniform pants?
Meeting both of their eyes, you’re saved by your phone’s ringtone, a sound that seems to stop even Jeongguk from taking an impulsive step toward you.
Fishing the phone out from the pocket of your black pants, you swipe your finger across the screen to answer. It’s Sana.
“Hello?”
“Hey! So I talked to Jihyo, and she said that your request got pre-approved? I’m a little busy at the moment and for the next few days, but send me anything you’d like me to look over in preparation.”
“So you’re up for it?” you ask, a wide smile forming. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Jeongguk reluctantly follow Jimin further into the room, where they start talking to two other officers with their backs turned. If you were more of a hopeless romantic instead of a realistic one, you’d describe the glances he sends your way as… yearning. To avoid his gaze, you focus on the notebook lying on the desk.
“Of course! You and me, just like old times.”
“Old times? It’s only been like a year since we worked on a case together.”
“You know what I mean. Anyway, I gotta go. See you.”
“I’ll send the info tonight. See you.”
Discreetly, you end the call and gather your things, quickly but quietly heading for the exit. But in the corridor, you hear a call of your name. You shut your eyes for a second before turning around. It hurts to see him, to walk these halls, avoiding him just like you used to. Only this time, it’s a different kind of pain.
The shame creeps in at the same rate Jeongguk approaches. It’s the same shame for how he sees you, but also for how you’ve reacted. You can barely look at him, yet you’re ashamed for not giving him a chance, even though he’s the one who made the bed he’s now tossing and turning in. He's so handsome, looking so warm and strong as he approaches, his black hair looking soft, shiny and just a little longer than last time. A part of you wishes he’d close his eyes so that you could throw your arms around his neck and breathe him in.
“Can you please leave me alone for a while?” is what you ask instead, clutching your notebook to your chest.
Now standing right before you, he looks down at you with sad, desperate eyes. “I’ll be quick, I promise. Two minutes is all I need.”
You’re not sure why, because you’re not an immature person, but you press your lips together, trying to suppress a smile. Noticing the shift in your expression, Jeongguk thinks back to what he said, smiling as well. “I set that one up pretty well, didn’t I?”
You turn your head, trying to stifle the smile, but you find that it fades easier than expected.
“And you think I’d wanna fuck that?” he snaps, eyeing your body with disgust.
Your gaze locks on the lower part of the wall. You wish someone would lend you the cloak of invisibility so that you could hide yourself from him and the world.
“Look at me,” he instructs, but you don’t. The more you think about his eyes on your body, the more you want to leave.
“Look. At me,” he repeats, firmer this time but still without sounding angry.
So you do.
“I get it if you don’t want anything else to do with me, but I can’t have you walking around, believing what I said is true.”
Although you don’t cry, you reluctantly let him see just how hurt you are.
“You were right. I wanted to hurt you. I said those things because I was angry, and I wanted just… some kind of justice. When you instead seemed so… unfazed, I let it get the best of me, and somewhere along the way, I lost myself. But I was wrong and although I wanted payback, I didn’t mean to hurt you to this degree. I was only looking for a reaction, anything that showed me that you were paying for what I thought you’d done. If I’d known how I really made you feel, regardless of if you were innocent or not, I would’ve stopped.“
“So you’re just a man, after all?” you ask, and maybe it’s uncalled for, maybe it’s not.
Jeongguk takes half a step back, appearing lost for words, and with enough pain in his surprised eyes for you to think he looks hurt.
He blinks and lowers his voice. “Yeah. Just a man. But listen to me—the things I said were. Not. True. Okay? You hear me? I cannot let you go around thinking you’re anything like what I told you.”
“I find that hard to believe. How else would you know exactly where to hit? What to say to cause maximum damage? Talking about my cellulite and my… weight and…”
“I said what I figured any woman would be scared to hear.”
“Yeah, sure,” you dismiss.
It doesn’t matter what he says now—he did know exactly what to say, which means he must have looked at you, inspected your body and found every single one of your flaws. It makes you nauseous, as if some of those flaws didn’t exist to the world simply because no one other than you had noticed or mentioned them. Then Jeongguk and his friends scrutinized every inch of you, uncovering them all and putting them on display.
“I think you’re gorgeous.”
“You would’ve told me.”
You really think he would have. The Jeongguk who wants you to sleep in his bed, holding you from behind, who asks to hold your hand, and who puts frosting on your lips as an excuse to kiss them—he would have told you if he liked you. If he thought you were beautiful.
“I didn’t. I thought–incredibly dumbly–that if I told you what I really think of you, you’d think I was hitting on you. If things were different, if we ran into each other somewhere without all this… baggage, I would’ve hit on you, but all I wanted at the time was for you to trust me as a friend and to trust that I just wanted you to be safe. I didn’t want you to think I was looking to get laid or that I would… that I was anything like Hoseong. I didn’t know that you took my bullshit to heart—because again, it’s just not true—and so I chose not to say anything.”
“But we’ve been past that point for a while, haven’t we?” you ask, finding his explanation a little too weak to believe. “I trusted you enough to tell you about the worst moment of my life, I kissed you, and I told you how pretty I think you are, yet you couldn’t even…”
Frustration boils in your veins, mixing with the raw disappointment and hurt which cools you back down. You feel so… small, so defeated. “I don’t need compliments. Just… something. Something that would’ve shown me you weren’t being sweet only because you felt guilty.”
Jeongguk doesn’t know what to say to that. In retrospect, yeah, he should’ve told you, and thinking back to his joke about pretty being for girls makes him cringe with both shame and regret. Especially since he’d used multiple occasions to taunt you with the fact that you’re not a pretty girl. But it had been hard, finding a balance in showing his affection without scaring you off. When you reacted the way you did that night during the power outage, he... didn’t want to risk making you more uncomfortable or afraid. He’d decided to take a step back, let you lead, and he would follow. Of course, that backfired horribly.
You look at him, hurt still brimming in your eyes.
He searches for words, trying to explain himself better. “I should’ve told you, but I… I didn’t want to risk making you uncomfortable. I wanted to follow your lead and let you decide everything. You wanted me handcuffed and blindfolded—of course I realized you were nervous. But I thought you were more worried I’d do something to you, rather than what I would think of you. I didn’t want to influence you to do anything you would’ve regretted.”
You’re clearly not convinced, and you shake your head slowly.
“You could’ve just given me a ‘you too.’ That’s all I would’ve needed.”
Jeongguk can only watch as you leave, obviously still very much hurt by him. Ten seconds after your footsteps have disappeared, he heads back to the desk area, his head hung low.
Jimin looks at him, JJ and Min gone. The unasked question hangs in the air, and Jeongguk can see Jimin realize that no, it didn’t go very well.
“You gotta remember that she’s had a hectic few months and maybe wasn’t really able to process everything. You being an ass was probably the least of her worries for a while—until it wasn’t anymore. And healing isn’t always linear. I’m sure she’ll come around one day.”
Jeongguk sighs. “I don’t think she will, and I can’t expect that of her. I just… hate myself for what I did to her. I never even realized she was just walking around, bleeding from my words.”
You haven’t fixed your car since the last tampering, but fortunately, Jihyo agreed to lend you one of the station’s unmarked cars. A discreet black thing that you park outside the station at ten a.m. on Thursday to pick up Sana, who needed to retrieve some things and told you to meet her there.
Getting no reply, you lock your phone and step out of the car with a sigh. The ground is powdered white, your shoes leaving tracks as you walk up to the station’s main entrance.
Warm air envelops you as you step inside, the doors falling shut behind you.
“Good morning!” Sana rushes over, a coffee in hand. “Sorry, I’ll be done in a minute, I just gotta ask Mark something.”
She gestures for you to follow, and you do, trailing behind her into the sea of desks. The place is unusually crowded with officers, so you decide to wait near the wall, leaving her to weasel her way into the middle on her own.
There usually aren’t this many people here when you’re around, but in your case, the problem isn’t necessarily people; it’s big, strong, law enforcement men. Though they’re not paying you much attention—they must be preparing for something big—you still can’t will your body to fully relax.
By instinct, you tug at your clothes, wishing you hadn’t left your jacket in the car. Since you decided to wear civilian clothes today, you thought you might as well dress somewhat according to your original mission’s dress code. Except adjusted for winter, of course.
You’re wearing winter boots that reach your upper calves, a pair of those invisibly fleece-lined pantyhose you’ve seen all over social media the last few months, and a cream-colored knitted turtleneck dress. It’s been in your closet forever, but unfortunately, you didn’t try it on before you had to leave.
It feels too tight on your body. Not to wear into a ‘strangely religious neighborhood,’ but too tight to wear here. You pull at the hem where it ends at your mid-thigh, keeping your eyes down when people pass you and hoping no one is looking at you and taking note of how awkwardly shaped your body is.
You stand there for a while, avoiding people’s eyes while you wait for Sana.
However, when you—out of the corner of your eye—notice a uniformed man walking toward you, you look up. Jeongguk’s eyes flicker between you and the people walking past you, as if he’s seen exactly the shameful way you carry yourself around men—these men—nowadays. It’s gotten worse since you left his house; you know that, but when all of your confidence was fueled by anger and then denial, removing those leaves… not much left.
He comes to stand in front of you, looking down at you with frustrated eyes. He’s so broad, so imposing, and it’s very evident when he wears his navy uniform, the sleeves rolled up his veiny forearms.
“Listen to me—”
You look away, about to step back, but he grasps your hand—not just to stop you but to guide the two of you a few steps away from the path of officers and behind the tall panels of a cubicle.
“No. Listen to me. I’ll leave you alone after this if that’s what you want, but I need you to know that you are so incredibly beautiful.”
You sigh, looking at him and wordlessly begging him to just give up already. He’s quiet for a few long seconds, his frustration seemingly growing.
When he speaks again, his voice is calm, more earnest. “Do you remember the first time we met?”
“No,” you shake your head. You can’t recall the very first time you met him.
“I do. It was a rainy day—my fourth at the station—and I ran into you at the main entrance. The rain had wet your hair, and I held the door open for you. You thanked me, but you didn’t really smile much, just politely. I think you also bowed your head slightly. I remember thinking that you must’ve been cold from the rain, but I realize you were wary around the men here, even if you and I didn’t know each other.”
Sounds about right.
“And I thought that you were just so beautiful.”
You look down. It’s humiliating, and you feel like shit, hearing him throw compliments your way just to make you feel better. You can’t tell if he’s lying or not, but what else would he say? You can’t exactly say you expected him to approach you today to call you ugly.
Noticing your hesitation, he appears to be searching his mind for something, and you glance at him.
Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly, and he reaches into the pocket of his navy uniform pants. It’s his phone that he pulls out, and he starts to scroll. He scrolls, and he scrolls, until he finally finds what he’s looking for.
“Look,” he says, handing you the phone.
Although you’re not too keen on entertaining whatever this is, you can’t help but be a little curious. What could he have on his phone that would convince you?
Accepting the device, you start reading the words on the screen. They’re text messages from an old group chat, dated years back, and though you can’t remember the exact date Jeongguk first showed up at the station, you assume it was right around then. The chat seems to have consisted mostly of him, Ryung, Hoseong, Seunghwan, and Junseo.
Seunghwan: Yeah, we’re excited to have you, just let us know if you need anything.
The next few texts are from the following day.
Jeongguk: So I just met the most gorgeous woman I think I’ve ever seen??
Jeongguk: Quick question, is there a work dating policy here? I can’t remember.
Jeongguk: And if not, where do I find this woman again? Is she an officer? I’m not even kidding when I say that I’m absolutely head over heels from a three-second interaction, and she didn’t even really say anything.
Jeongguk: I’d love to ask her out.
Ryung: If it’s who I think it is then you better stay away, man.
You read on, seeing how Ryung goes on to describe a woman’s features, which happen to align with yours. The length, color, and style of your hair, the color of your eyes, and your height. But also a very generous way of describing your face and the shape of your body.
Jeongguk: Yeah! Is she with one of you already? In that case, I apologize!
Ryung: No, but Hoseong did her briefly, and she’s absolutely mental. Pretty, but crazy
The next words are not very nice, the men urging Jeongguk to stay away from the woman who could only ever be you, promising to tell him what happened the day after.
“See,” Jeongguk says, “Even Ryung knew exactly who I meant; I didn’t even have to describe you, just say that you were the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.”
You’re not sure. Yeah, the evidence points to that, and you can’t deny that you’re definitely feeling some form of relief, but… you can still hear his voice in your ears, see the anger and hatred in his dark eyes.
You hand the phone back, and Jeongguk looks around, sighing before turning his attention back to you. “You want me to be completely honest? Tell you exactly what I think of you?”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “No? That’s the point? I know that I’m not your type. I’m full of flaws. I don’t have a body fat percentage in the negatives like you, I don’t always have the energy to shave every inch of my body, and I’ve never gotten flowers. No matter what you say now, I’m not someone you want.”
“You think I’m someone who would care about any of that?” he asks, his voice tinged with hurt.
“You look like someone who would.”
Jeongguk looks away, taking a second to gather his thoughts.
“I… wanted to ask you out that day, after I first met you. You looked so pretty out there in the rain, and I think my heart stopped for a while. I think that you’re cute—really fucking adorable—and charming, and you’re smart and kind, and you’re absolutely breath-taking and sexy as hell.
"Which was another reason I was so angry at you; I saw this… stunning woman, who appeared to live a very privileged life, yelling ‘sexism’ whenever something didn’t go your way to… I don’t know, avoid consequences and get ahead, not realizing what sexism truly meant for other women. I didn’t think there was that much harm in what I said because I thought you knew very well how goddamn pretty you are, so I gripped at every straw, trying to get a reaction.”
You listen to every word he says, still unable to decide. You want to believe him, but the deep wounds he carved into your skin are still bleeding.
“I was so conflicted during our mission. On one hand, I had to pretend to like the person who had shot one of my best friends, who got away with it and refused to be held accountable for it. On the other hand… I liked seeing you pretend to like me too. First, out of spite, but then I realized that I liked seeing you smile, and how nice you were to the people around you, except for me, of course, but I guess I always started it. Then you fell asleep in my arms at the barbeque, and I knew I was fucked. I felt like I betrayed my friends for… feeling something other than hatred for you.
“But this little thing, that hated me so much, let herself be so vulnerable as to sleep in my arms. And I guess I looked at you differently after that. The more I realized that you might actually be a pretty decent detective; a decent person, the harder it was for me to be mean to you. After everything, and after I’d found out what had happened, I wanted to tell you how much I liked you and how pretty I thought you were, but I was scared you wouldn’t come with me if I did. I was scared they’d look for you at your apartment, so I kept quiet.
“Even after you came to stay with me, and it seemed like you started to trust me, even just a little bit, I had to convince myself to wait. And the more I got to know you, the harder it became. Do you have any idea how much I wanted to bury you in flowers? Hold you and kiss you silly? And you know why I was always up before you—or at least I tried to be—when you slept in my bed with me?”
You shake your head because you don’t know.
There's something else in his eyes when he holds your gaze, “Because I dream about you, and I wake up hard. But I remembered how I freaked you out when we made out back at the house, when you were on my lap and I got hard. I didn’t want to scare you or make you uncomfortable, so I made sure to wake up before you, just in case.
“I wanted to kiss you and hold you and really, it would’ve been my pleasure if you’d wanted to sleep with me. But more than that, I wanted you to be safe and feel safe, never doubting why I was doing what I was.”
He shuts his eyes for a short moment. “I guess that’s all I can say. I don’t need you to forgive me, I just need you to know that all I wanted was revenge; nothing of what I said was true.”
He opens his eyes again, looking into yours with his soft, brown ones and a gentle sincerity. Though it’s overshadowed by something else. “I have many regrets, but you are my biggest. What I did to you.”
Regret.
As if she’s been waiting for the right moment to make her return, you hear Sana call your name. When you turn around, you spot her approaching.
“I gotta go,” you excuse yourself.
Sana looks between you and Jeongguk, but when no one says anything, she shrugs and turns her attention to you. “So, Jihyo said you had a problem with your apartment? The door, was it? Cause I can call my brother, and he’ll fix it for free next week if you want?”
“You’re living in your apartment? On your own?” Jeongguk questions, his voice upset.
You turn back at him, “Yeah. Have been since I left your house. It’s fine.”
Despite the clear worry his eyes display, he makes no effort to follow you and talk you straight, probably realizing that there’s nothing else he can do; that was his last chance.
<previous | next> author's note: so there's that! thanks for waiting for it <3 this was the last puzzle piece of their past, i think, and i'd love to hear your thoughts on everything, but especially him lol <3<3
he is love
THIS is what I needed to read to break my poor heart in a cool way~ I enjoyed every word, amazing writer and story, forever in my heart ❤️🩹
the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins.
pairing: fuckboy!jk x f reader
genre: fluff, angst, smut, college au, fuckboy au, bet au
word count: 24.5k
warnings: male masturbation, a lot of flashbacks that include: oral (f receiveing), fingering, penetrative sex. also contains non-descriptive domestic abuse.
rating: NC-17 – Adults Only
masterlist
part 6/7
<previous | next>
© evolution of a lover’s heart is copyright jeonstudios 2021/2022. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.
author’s note: yes you read that right, this is part 6 out of 7, and im still in my circus tent. hope you like <3 and im very interested in what yall think of jk after this lol
It surprises you, how Jeongguk’s hurried steps already carry him towards his car. And although you’ll never keep him from leaving, you can’t just watch him go. Not like that.
”Hey, I’m gonna have to call you back, sorry,” you interrupt the voice in your ear, confused feet already moving forward.
She doesn’t seem to really understand, or she just didn’t hear you, so you excuse yourself, ”Yeah, yeah, listen, I’ll call you tomorrow,” and you do something you’ve never done before. You hang up while someone’s still talking.
”Gguk, wait!” You call, but he doesn’t stop. He’s almost reached the black vehicle, and you don’t run after him, knowing that if he wants to leave, you won’t be able to stop him anyway. In that case, you’ll just have to knock on the door to his apartment in the coming days.
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