Just Jungkook Bragging About Bam’s Huge Poop Lmaooooooooooo I’m Screaming

dextrocardia | 13

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: descriptions of and talk about sa!!

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 13/? 

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

It keeps raining, and two hours later when it’s hitting the roof in a calm rhythm, you enter the garage through the open door. Rock music sounds from a speaker but it’s overshadowed by the powerful hits of Jeongguk’s gloved hands against the sandbag hanging from the mount. He’s foregone a shirt, his sweat-covered muscles glistening.

“You call that ‘taking it easy?’” you call out, notifying him of your presence.

He stops his punches, turning to face you with his hand steadying the bag.

“Huh?” he questions, chest heaving.

“I said: ‘you call that taking it easy?’”

He smiles, very out of breath. “I didn’t say ‘easy,’ just easier than what I’m used to.”

You shake your head, venturing further into the garage and reaching the bike.

“How do you even get on this thing? It’s so tall?” you wonder skeptically out loud as you trace the black leather seat with your fingers. It’s definitely a lot taller and wider than just an ordinary bicycle.

Jeongguk steps away from the sandbag, loosening the gloves with his teeth as he heads your way, heavy breaths echoing. You follow him with your eyes as he approaches, but instead of demonstrating like you thought he would, he stops behind you.

“Here,” he places his hands under your armpits.

“Oh, no, no, no,” you try to protest, but it’s too late, and you’re already being lifted onto the seat like a three-year-old.

You definitely also feel like a three-year-old because you don’t even try to reach for the handlebars, instead holding onto the little hill in front of the seat. It probably goes without saying that your feet don’t wholly touch the ground.

“We could go for a ride someday if you want?”

You turn your head to look at his grinning face.

“Uh... no.”

“What, you don’t trust me?”

You see the realization of what he just asked flash across his face, but you know it wasn’t how he meant it.

“You don’t seem to value your life very much, no,” you argue, hinting at how he almost died for you.

His face turns relieved, a small smile decorating his lips. “I do. But sometimes, there might be risks I’m willing to take.”

It’s your turn to not know exactly what to say, so you're quick to ask something else instead. You lean forward, actually managing to grab the handlebars somewhat correctly. “Do I look cool?”

Jeongguk’s smile widens, “Absolutely. Even more so if you had the appropriate gear.”

“So… highway patrol? Car or one of these things?”

“One of these things,” he chuckles. “It was exciting, especially car chases really got your blood pumping. Although I think my mom was in a constant state of a heart attack. And the chases didn’t happen that often; most of the time, it was just writing tickets, and I wanted to make more of a difference.”

“Understandable. Your mom, I mean.”

“Yeah. Also, who told you?” he narrows his eyes playfully.

“Jimin. He told me absolutely everything there is to know about you. All your secrets.”

“Nice try; I don’t have any secrets.”

You wonder to yourself how true that really is.

You’ve managed to keep your mind busy and occupied during the day, but when night time rolls around and the rain has only increased, you’re feeling a little anxious.

Standing outside the door to your room and staring at the handle, you don’t notice Jeongguk.

“You know, I don’t mind you sleeping with me.”

You lift your head, meeting his eyes. He’s shirtless again, looking as if he just came from the kitchen. Should you? Last night was very cozy, and if you're being honest with yourself, you liked it a lot. Probably more than you should. You felt… safer.

You hesitate.

“It’s up to you, but I’ll leave the door open.”

He prepares to leave, but you’re quick to make up your mind.

“No, I, um… I’ll just go and change, first?”

Giving you a soft nod, he leaves for his bedroom.

It takes you five minutes to change into a large t-shirt and some shorts and to wash up, and when you enter through the open door, closing it behind you, Jeongguk is folding a pair of pants to hang over a chair. You won’t pretend that you don’t let your eyes quickly skim over his shirtless body as he moves, your heart skipping a beat or maybe two.

“Is that the ring you wore during the mission?” you ask, watching him turn, first to face you and then to look at the object in question on his nightstand.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you keep it?”

He shrugs as he approaches the other side of the bed, the same side he slept on yesterday. “I don’t know. I wore it, then the hospital put it in one of those bags with my other belongings while they took me into surgery. Took the whole bag home, put the ring there. Didn’t wear it because… well, we’re not married, but I didn’t want to get rid of it.”

“Hm, okay,” you accept what sounds like a reasonable explanation.

Jeongguk lifts the duvet, getting into the bed while watching you. “You didn’t keep yours?”

“Don’t know what happened to it, but it was fake and pretty much worthless, so…”

“Ouch,” Jeongguk says, clutching his chest.

“Okay, first of all, you just said we weren’t married. And there was no material worth to it. Second, your heart is on the other side.”

Smoothly–and definitely making you giggle while you follow his lead and get into bed–he switches hands to hold the right side of his chest instead. You guess it’s a learning curve.

“Ouch,” he repeats, “Just tell me if you want a divorce.”

It’s with a big smile that you get comfortable, pulling the white duvet up to your chin as you lay on your side, facing the nightstand.

You feel Jeongguk move around a bit too.

“I think the rain’s gonna let up tomorrow,” he mumbles. “It’s been a while since it was this… persistent.”

“Yeah… Thank you for letting me sleep here. It feels… better to not be alone.”

“It’s no problem; I don’t mind.”

Silence falls after that. You listen to the rhythmic beat of raindrops hitting the roof, trying to slow your breaths and heartbeat enough to fall asleep. Although you don’t feel as anxious anymore, it still doesn’t happen. 

Minute by minute ticks by, and you don’t know if Jeongguk is asleep or not.

“It was raining,” you say, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “That night when we followed a suspect into a hotel bar.”

You take a breath, listening to the silence of the room, half expecting Jeongguk to stop you. But he doesn’t; maybe because he’s asleep? So you continue quietly, revisiting a memory.

“He stayed there for quite a few hours, so we did as well. We were hoping he’d lead us to his brother so we could arrest both of them for arms trafficking. Hoseong ordered us beer, more so for appearances, but still, and we talked while we kept an eye on the man and waited for him to leave. I remember that we talked about another case we’d just solved, and Hoseong was going on and on about how smart he thought I was and how glad he was to have me as his partner. I was smiling ear to ear, thinking that I was so incredibly lucky, getting to work with and learn from someone who truly saw me. When the suspect instead got a room there for the night, we did as well, figuring it would be more comfortable than sitting in the car all night.”

It’s still quiet, but it feels cathartic to get it out, regardless if Jeongguk is awake to hear it or not. While you've unfortunately noticed more similarities between him and Hoseong than you'd like--like their dark, expressive eyes--Jeongguk feels... different.

“We were meant to do shifts, always have the door open just a sliver so we’d notice if he left. We took our jackets off and Hoseong placed his stuff on the bedside table. Since it was summer, I was wearing a t-shirt and a skirt with my gun strapped to my thigh under it, and so I put the gun in the pocket of my jacket. When I turned around… he kissed me. I was caught by surprise, but I… I kissed him back at first because… Well, I loved him. But then I tried to step back to tell him that we really shouldn’t, that we needed to be alert and ready to follow if the suspect left. But he didn’t listen.”

You pause, feeling the pain and the fear from that day all over again, your skin turning cold. There’s movement behind you, and an arm is slowly and gently draped across your middle, grasping your freezing hand. It makes you feel something, peering down at his hand and the tattoos covering his skin. He’s very warm, and he feels like he’s… stable. Like he has roots growing into the ground that makes him unshakeable. Meanwhile, you’re a leaf; at the mercy of everyone and everything. Easy to blow away, to rip to shreds, to stomp flat to the sound of your bones crunching.

“He held my jaw so tight, I couldn’t speak, and he told me that I’d been teasing him all day in the skirt and that I should be happy because he knew that I loved him. Said I should just suck it up and put out. He… ” you go quiet, unsure of how many details you’re willing to relive. 

Does Jeongguk need to know every step you were pushed toward the bed, how he threw you onto it and got on top of you while you fought? How he unzipped his pants and how he violated you? He probably doesn’t.

“He used his handcuffs and cuffed my hands around the metal bed frame. I tried to…. He said he’d kill me if I screamed.” You remember his hushed yet furious voice in your ear, remember knowing how it was going to end, how he’d kill you right then and there.

“I don’t know if he did it at first because he enjoyed it or if he realized right away that he would need to get rid of me, but he put both his hands around my neck and squeezed as hard as he could. I pulled my hands so violently that I dislocated a thumb, but… I got one out. So I tried to stop him, but he was too strong, using all his body weight. My nails on his skin didn’t faze him, and I was losing consciousness. At the very last second–while my vision was turning spotty–I managed to grab the gun from his holster. I aimed it for his thigh and pulled the trigger. He let go. Somehow, I managed to get him off me, and… out of me… but I could barely see or breathe, and there was blood everywhere.

“He swore at me, and I think he tried to get up but couldn’t, so he reached for his phone, and I ran for the door as best I could. But what was I supposed to do? Call the cops? What do you think he was doing? I heard him ask our coworkers for help, and I knew. They were coming to help him. So I stood there, in the hall of a shitty hotel, with no car keys, no phone, and nowhere to go, while his back-up was mere minutes away.

“Then, someone down the hall opened their door. It was a young woman, and she peeked out, looked at me where I stood, a shaky, bloody, wheezy mess, and she came and pulled me inside right before the police exited the elevator. I managed to say that we were all law enforcement, but I didn’t need to tell her that they’d kill me off if they found me because we heard Ryung’s voice through the door, telling the rest to find me and make me… pay.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever been as scared as I was when they knocked on her door. She gestured for me to get inside the bathroom, and I did, watching as she pulled a bathrobe around her body, turning most of the lights off and opening the door to pretend like she’d just woken up. I heard them ask for me, and I heard her politely tell them that no, she hadn’t seen a woman or noticed any commotion. But I saw how her hand trembled behind the door, and I thought the whole time that they knew and were just waiting to push their way inside to get me. But they didn’t. Instead, they left. Shaken, she sat with me on the bathroom floor as I cried, and she helped me clean up a bit and loaned me some of her clothes before she helped me to the hospital across the city border. I stayed the night to have my injuries tended to and documented and a kit done, and the next day, I went to that city’s station to file a report. A female officer helped me, and she’s the only one I’ve told most of this stuff to. Well, except for you now, but I take it you read the report? And the station… you weren’t working that day, but it was your station, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” comes a strained mumble, and you feel him hug you just a bit tighter.

You stare at the wall, feeling both anxious and numb. “It changes you, having someone do that to you. All my life, I’ve known, theoretically speaking, that there’s a risk. A man, anywho, anywhere, anytime, can decide that I don’t get to live anymore. But to experience it, to see the intentions in his eyes, and how he’s… deciding… and not being able to do anything about it. It changes you. It’s always there, the feeling of helplessness.” “I…” Sounding like he wants to say something but can’t find the words, Jeongguk lets silence fall again. 

“You don’t know what to say, do you?” you smile a sad smile to yourself. “No.” “It’s alright, you don’t need to say anything, I just thought I’d tell you.”

You feel him move closer while also gently pulling you back toward him. You roll back, finding yourself inches away from him where he lies, head supported by his hand and looking down at you. “I’m just… furious, and frustrated, and I wish so badly that I’d been there to help you. If I had just transferred earlier… maybe I could’ve prevented it, or stopped it, or even just caught him and helped you get your justice. Instead, I came along and made it worse.”

You find yourself so lost in him. In the warmth of his body that’s thawing the entirety of yours, and in his kind brown eyes. You can’t believe he’s the same person who took every chance he could to hurt you as recently as a few months ago. He just… looks so sweet.

“You know, you look like a little kid when you’re sleeping” you smile, watching Jeongguk slowly open his eyes, looking a little confused. “You’re also always up before me, so I’ve rarely seen you asleep. I’m not really a morning person.”

The moment he comes to properly, he smiles lazily and rolls his eyes half-heartedly. “I’m not a morning person either, actually,” he explains, his voice lower and raspier than usual.

“Then why are you always awake so early?”

He looks at you as if he’s not sure what to say. “Cause… I have… stuff to do?”

“Okay…”

Jeongguk doesn’t address the suspicion in your voice, instead, he stretches his arms over his head. The duvet moves, exposing his chest and the scar to your eyes.

Letting your fingertip hover just above it, you look back at his still very sleepy face. “Did you really never know about your organs being mirrored?”

“No,” he yawns. 

“But… how? Didn’t you ever have your heart and lungs listened to?”

“I did, but apparently, it’s not too much of a different sound. Sure, my heart beat would have sounded a bit fainter from my left side but it’s such a rare condition that there was no real use investigating further. I had a heart that beat in the right rhythm and no other symptoms so that was enough, I guess,” he shrugs.

“Can I listen?” you bite your lip hopefully.

He raises his eyebrows, “To my heart?”

You nod enthusiastically

“Buy me dinner first, why don’t you?”

Rolling your eyes, you feel warm. You meet his gaze and slowly lower your head to his chest while moving your hair out of your face.

His skin feels nice against the side of your face, his chest moving up and down under you slowly, and you hear it. It’s strong, rhythmic, but…

“Are you sure you’re fine, though?” you ask, turning a little more serious, “It’s beating kinda… fast?”

Surely a fit guy like Jeongguk has a slower resting heart rate? 

“You’re also, you know, listening to my heart,” he says, like it’s supposed to mean something?

Wait. Is he… Is he implying that you listening to his heart is making it race? That can’t be true, can it?

You lift your face off of his chest, and for a moment, you’re just looking at each other softly, curiously. His black hair is a little messy, but he looks so warm, and you–.

His phone rings.

Jeongguk sighs but reaches for it where it lies on his nightstand, his eyes widening when he reads the screen. “Shit, I gotta take this.”

He throws the duvet off of him and gets up as he answers the call, and you see him in just his shorts as he disappears out of the room with the phone to his ear.

Following his lead, you rise from the bed, but instead of going wherever Jeongguk disappeared to, you head into your room to throw on a hoodie and some sweatpants. While alone, you take a moment to think about last night. You weren’t actually planning on talking about it. You never have, not in that much detail, although you definitely left some things out. And while it feels… hard, it also feels… better? Or, like you’re at least not too scared of him looking at you weirdly or saying it was your fault. Or even worse, like you opened his eyes how easy it was to render you entirely helpless…

Quietly, you enter the kitchen, spotting Jeongguk standing at the counter with the tray of cupcakes you made together in front of him. He’s wearing a dark green t-shirt now.

He places the phone between his raised shoulder and ear as he peels a wrapper off, “can you ask them to mail copies of the documents to the station? And how did it go, did you manage to reach the mechanic?”

You watch him as he listens to whoever’s on the other side, putting half a cupcake in his mouth. “Mhm, no, no, just book whatever time she’s available. We can meet at the station if she wants to come in or I can go to her. Same for the hotel staff.” 

Is he… looking into your case again? Like, thoroughly following up on all leads and with all possible witnesses? You definitely know it’s not because of what you told him last night; he must’ve decided to do it priorly.

His eyes find you as he listens intently to what the voice has to say. You take a few steps, coming to stand next to him, smiling softly at how cute he looks when he’s multitasking. With one hand, he lifts the other end of the cupcake to you. You take it, watching him as he looks off into the distance absentmindedly. “Alright, thank you.”

You pop the piece into your mouth, chewing it while making a note to definitely bake more.

He ends the call and puts the phone down on the counter. “These are actually really good,” he says, putting his frosting-covered fingertip to his mouth.

You smile, admiring him and all he’s done and is doing for you. A little overcome with emotions, you place your hand on his shirt, pulling it down slowly at the collar and him toward you. He looks curious, but you focus on his lips. Biting your own, you try not to let the fear of rejection win, and you stand on your toes, and you kiss him carefully.

It’s brief, and it’s sweet, and you can’t help but smile when your heels touch the floor again.

“Thank you.”

He blinks, looking happy but surprised.

“What?” you chuckle a little nervously when he doesn’t say anything.

“Nothing. I just… wasn’t sure you actually liked me. Like, at all.”

You tilt your head, listening to him as he continues.

“I know that we kissed that time on the hammock, but we probably weren’t on the same page then, were we? Cause I thought we were, that we were alone and that we had something, but you… you played along because there were people watching, right? You were still acting while I wasn’t.”

You haven’t thought a lot about that moment, embarrassed about what happened and how you reacted, but he’s right. You were acting. You weren’t sure he was, but if he really wasn’t… What were his motives that night?

“Yeah, but you kinda literally took a sword to the heart for me later, and you’ve been really, really kind and sweet to me ever since.”

He grabs another cupcake, chewing a piece of it with a look on his face that tells you he’s… planning something. You wait, expecting him to say something but he just smiles and lifts the other piece to your mouth. Before you can even decide whether to take a bite or not, he nudges the cupcake against your mouth, getting streaks of frosting across your lips.

“What the…”

But he grins, puts the cupcake down, and smiles in a way that lets you know this was exactly what he wanted. Putting his fingers under your chin to lift your head, he leans down to kiss you. You hold your breath, feeling his soft lips against yours again.

He tastes of frosting and racing heart beats, and you’re pretty sure your cheeks are warmer than usual.

“You don’t need to thank me for that.”

And you feel warm, almost ecstatic, but also like you’ve… forgotten something.

The day after, Jeongguk receives a call that has him hurriedly looking through the house for the keys to his bike, rushing off somewhere after telling you that he’ll probably be back in a few hours. ‘A few hours’ is too vague to really tell you anything, and you’re so used to not asking questions that you don’t think to.

While he’s gone, you decide to start the dishwasher, and you’ve come to learn that Jeongguk always has at least one mug in his office that he’ll keep refilling with coffee way too many times without washing.

Approaching the office, you’re not surprised to see the door to it ajar. It’s rarely closed, and it’s almost like it signifies the transparency between you. Jeongguk doesn’t say much about the case, but it’s not because you can’t know; it’s because he knows you don’t want to know. 

Or didn’t want to know. As you’re standing in the quiet room, his blue mug in your hand, you see a disheveled stack of papers. Usually, you would’ve walked past it, or maybe even re-stacked it neatly before walking past it. 

This time, Hoseong’s name catches your eye. Of course, it’s not weird considering it’s Jeongguk’s main case, but you still find yourself staring at the printed letters. 

Three hours after he left, Jeongguk unlocks his front door, opening it and stepping inside. He sighs at how the people he despises most on the planet always just seem to slip out of his grasp. But when inside, he finds himself easily letting go of that thought and instead thinking about something that has him smiling to himself.

With his shoes and jacket off, he begins his search, expecting to find you either in the living room or your bedroom and getting confused when you aren’t. He peers inside the kitchen and even puts his head into his own bedroom, almost starting to get worried when you’re nowhere to be seen.

He’s about to visit the second bathroom when he passes his office, seeing movement from within the small sliver in the doorway.

“There you are,” he comments happily as he opens the door wider, looking around and taking a moment to process what he’s seeing. “I almost thought you’d evaporated.”

You look up from the floor, where you’re sitting with a bunch of papers spread out in front of you, Jeongguk’s empty cup beside you.

“These are the ones you’re observing?” you ask, lifting a paper toward him, a pen wedged between your index and middle finger.

He takes it from you, quickly reading a summary of months of hard work. “Mhm.”

“Okay,” you say, looking at another paper in your hand, twirling the pen absentmindedly in your other, “I think I have some suggestions.”

After spending hours and hours with Jeongguk, having him explain the progress they’ve made and who they’re investigating, you take a step back to look at the post-its on the living room wall. It has all the fugitives’ relatives, their friends, coworkers, neighbors…. everyone. Since neither of the four men have used their card nor phone, they must’ve almost certainly gotten help, but from who?

You sink down onto the soft cushions of Jeongguk’s couch with a tired sigh, reaching for the remote and smiling when there’s a rerun of a zombie movie.

Jeongguk follows your lead, spreading out as well. “You wanna like… hold hands or something? Cause I could do with a good hand-holding.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, feeling your chest warm from the inside. It’s so easy for him to make you all giddy, forgetting about all of your pains and worries. Or almost all of them, at least.

Still, you nod, and your smile grows when he scoots closer to you and takes your hand in his warm one.

Even as he directs his focus toward the TV, you keep yours on him. On his tired yet still bright, dark eyes, his nose, the faint hollowness under his cheekbones, and his mouth. His hair is just calling out for you to run your fingers through, but you stand your ground, settling for getting to hold his hand. 

“What?” he asks, smiling cheekily at you.

“You asked to hold my hand?” you remind, moving his hand between the two of yours, tracing the veins on the back of it.

“Yeah?”

“It’s cute. You buy flowers and hold hands and open doors.”

Surely, a guy like him can’t exist, right?

“I do. Which reminds me, you were just giving my flowers away?”

He looks at you, faking hurt. Slowly, and with your heart beating hard to nourish the butterflies growing in your stomach, you intertwine your fingers with his. “I didn’t know they were from you; there was never a card or anything.”

“Fine.”

Seemingly accepting your short answer, Jeongguk watches the movie with you for a while in silence, your head coming to rest against the top of his arm. You keep his hand between yours, trying to stay cool despite how being this close to him affects you. There are definitely some sort of butterflies.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about as well?” he mumbles quietly after a while.

“No?”

“At the barbeque, the guy that you were talking to? Who was that? And what did he say?”

You search your mind for a second before it comes back to you; the tall, handsome man who approached you. “I don’t know. He said his name was Haneul, but I don’t think he lived there. I think I heard something about someone having their cousin over or something like that, so I think that was him. Don’t think I saw him again.”

“And what did he say to you? You didn’t look…. very happy.”

You recall the way he felt… off and how he wasted absolutely no time, insulting your husband and offering to take his place. You definitely remember the unfunny feeling of actually wanting to have a rude Jeongguk around just to keep Haneul away.

“Uh, he hit on me.”

“Did you say you were married?”

You scoff. “Yeah, but he didn’t seem to mind. Basically accused you of lacking in bed and offering to take your place in secret.”

“What?” Jeongguk asks, sounding surprised. “He didn’t look that ballsy to me?”

“It was before he saw how intimidating you are.”

“I’m glad it seemed like I scared him off then. If he was bothering you?”

“Yeah…”

“So why didn’t you tell me? When I asked about him? I would’ve kept an even closer eye on you.”

That, you don’t have to search your mind for. You remember very clearly how scared you were that Jeongguk would laugh. Or that he wouldn’t even believe you because after all, why would anyone hit on someone like you? Especially a man who looked like Haneul because creep or not, he was handsome. Like so often, you fill with shame. Embarrassment for who you are and how you look. It’s been surprisingly easy to not focus as much on it, but it will always be at the back of your mind, and this is just a painful reminder.

“I… didn’t think you’d believe me.”

He squeezes your hand, and you hear and feel him sigh sadly. “I’m sorry for being so mean to you and for being such an overall disappointment. I want to think that I sensed that you were scared and that’s why I kept an eye on you after and asked you about it. But I couldn’t even tell that you were afraid of me as well, so I don’t know, honestly.”

“It’s fine…”

“No, it’s not. I guess I hope your future real husband will be better than your fake one,” he jokes in an attempt to lift the mood.

“Oh. I’m not… I don’t think the possibilities of me getting married are very big.”

“Oh? Because you don’t like… men?”

You nearly snort. Honestly, yeah, all of your problems and issues could be summarized into that short sentence.

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I’m not interested in marrying a woman, but I’m not… I’ve never had a relationship of any kind with a man–that went deeper than acquaintances–which didn't leave me hurt in one way or another. And I don’t want to do that anymore.”

“I know you said your dad’s an ass, and I know what happened with Hoseong and us guys at the station, but what… If you want to talk about it, what else…?”

“Who else has hurt me, you mean? It’s complicated, I guess.” 

You look down at your intertwined hands, how Jeongguk’s looks so big between yours. 

You sigh at the memory of how… non mind-blowing your relationships have been so far. Most guys you’ve dated haven’t made even the slightest of efforts for your birthday–if they even remembered it–or to plan dates of any kind after the first honeymoon months. You’ve tried, but with many men, it feels more like they want a live-in maid, who provides sex. It's definitely a conscious effort, how you try not to match Jeongguk to what your younger self dreamed of in a man.

“You remember… at the house? When you said you loved your ex, and I laughed because you’re a man and not capable of love?”

“Yeah.”

“I think that sums it up. My dad didn’t care for my mom or me, he only returned when his new, younger girlfriends–whose bodies weren’t ruined by childbearing–grew tired of his disrespectful, old ass. He knew that she still loved him, and he took advantage of that. I guess I was a little weary around men from a young age after that, but still hopeful that there could be good men out there too. Then I started dating and noticed pretty quickly that… I wasn’t really important like I’d hoped. I wanted dates–even just a picnic in the park occasionally–and I guess I took birthday celebrations–of any kind–for granted. One guy got me a bunch of candy he knew I didn’t like, so he could eat it himself, and another guy entirely forgot it was my birthday even though his was ten days before, and I got him a relatively expensive watch he’d been wanting. One guy did take me out to eat at a pretty nice restaurant, but he was also shamelessly checking out the waitress right in front of me. I saw my friends be treated the same way, and we all just… kept trying. One of my friends was in a relationship for four years, and he was a real sweetheart; made time for her, got her flowers, gave her compliments, all that. Then she discovered he’d been cheating since day one. It wasn’t until Hoseong that I truly decided it wasn’t worth it.”

“You shouldn’t give up hope.”

“It’s easy for you to say, Jeongguk. You’re a man. Your fellow men look out for you and women still care for you. And to be honest… like I said, what happened to me… it’s not something you just move past. Wherever I go, I know that practically every man I meet on the street could decide to hurt me just because he wants to. And it would be up to him, the fate of my entire life is in the hands of every random guy I pass. If he wanted to kill me, there isn’t much I could do. Not only do I know that theoretically speaking, most of them are stronger than me and don’t care what happens to me, but I know the feeling of having it happen.”

“I understand,” he assures softly, squeezing your hand, “I didn’t mean it in a ‘get over it’ way, just that I know there are men out there who would treat you like an equal partner and who would like to do those things you described that you used to want.”

“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know, it just isn’t worth the risk for me. Romantic love isn’t everything.”

There is still a trace of pity in the look he gives you when you smile sadly at him.

After brushing your teeth and changing into your sleepwear, you find yourself outside the door to your bedroom. The storm has passed, so you definitely should go back to sleeping in your own room.

As if he could read your mind, Jeongguk, on his way to his bedroom, slows down as he passes you. He turns, looks at you and smiles gently as he continues to back toward his door. “You don’t need an excuse, you know? If you want to sleep in your room, that’s fine, but I can’t say I’m not hoping you’ll sleep with me.”

You lift your eyebrows at him, as if to say ‘oh, really?’ He should definitely stop saying ‘sleep with me.’

He shrugs, “I like having you close.”

For half a second, you shut your eyes, realizing you have no defense against him. So you open them, sighing and dropping your shoulders before following him with some species of critter in your stomach. He chuckles.

<previous | next>

author's note: please let me know if you like it! i feel like this part was really important and it was definitely hard to write because fortunately(!!!) i have not experienced what reader has and while i did my best to portray it how i think someone could react and deal with stuff like this, at the end of the day, i don't actually know and i'd hate if it comes off as wrong or glamorizing in any way. if it does, that is 1000% not my intention. on a lighter note; this is very much a calm before a storm lol

oh...

Me, Myself, and Jimin ‘ID : Chaos’ preview photos 1

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This is why your characters don't feel real

Here are the top reasons why your character could be feeling flat or unreal. What every author aims for is to make palpable realistic characters who feel like someone we could actually know.

They have no internal conflict(!)

You haven’t got a clue about their backstory.

Or about what their struggle/internal conflict is rooted in.

You write them to fit the plot, instead of letting them react the way they should in the given moment (even if this leads to a huge change in the story!).

You fail to think about their dynamics & backstory with each important character in their narrative.

You don’t give them a motivation/goal going into each scene.

There are so many factors that go into making a character feel real - and you might hear advice that this is because they don’t have an interesting personality, or a unique character voice, but honestly? These are surface-level reasons. These are not going to make or break your character.

What IS going to make them interesting is internal conflict —> a struggle which we meet them in, a story of overcoming the struggle that we get invested in, and a root cause for the struggle in the character’s backstory.

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Eunoia // Ch. 24

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 8.2k+

Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing, past violence, mentions of blood, panic attacks

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23

If you read this, please take some time to vote for BTS at the MAMAs on the Mnet Plus app and for the AMAs on the website VoteAMAs.com or on Twitter.

The taglist is now closed.

There was a deep lull after dinner, surrounded by fairylights on a late summer night with your bellies full of delicious food. You and Seokjin had cooked Michelin-level lasagna and for dessert the best custard tarts you had ever tasted. Seokjin truly was extraordinarily talented at cooking and baking. He could have been one of the best chefs in the world. The only obstacle was his DNA. There were no famous hybrid chefs, probably there were no hybrid chefs at all. For most people it was near impossible to look past the animal ears and tails.

“What are you thinking about?” Seokjin asked. You were the only ones left at the circular bench around the table. You were laying with your back against his side and your head on his shoulder.

“Nothing. Everything,” you said.

You couldn’t see his smile but you imagined it lighting up his face. Seokjin was always beautiful, he was one of the most beautiful people you had ever met. But when he was smiling, he was magical.

“You can never turn it off, can you?” he asked, bumping his hand with yours. You didn’t hesitate to take hold of it and intertwine your fingers. 

You looked up at the stars. Away from the heart of the city, they were bright and endless. “I don’t think that’s possible. It’s part of my charm.”

That pulled a laugh out of him and you reveled in it, in the ordinary sanctity of the moment. You took in the view of the garden and hybrids scattered around.

Namjoon and Hoseok were sitting by the pool, their feet dipped in the water, while Hoseok spoke excitedly about something moving his hands around, his tail wagging behind him. Namjoon listened to him like he didn’t want to miss a word falling from his lips. Jimin was curled around Yoongi on the grass, his eyes were closed and you could tell that he was purring without having to hear him. Yoongi was gazing at the stars peacefully, his arms at his sides. Further away, Jungkook and Taehyung were flipping through Jungkook’s latest sketchbook. Taehyung would stop him from turning the page sometimes to run his fingers over a sketch.

Taehyung was still reserved but he was slowly but steadily bonding with the other hybrids. Jungkook had happily told you that they had spent the afternoon painting together and proudly showed off their masterpiece, an artistic mess of colorful lines and funny faces that wouldn’t have looked out of place at a modern art gallery. You had said you were going to hang it up in the gallery unless Taehyung—whose cheeks had turned red for the first time—wanted to keep it. Timidly and in the best english he could master, he asked if he could take it to his room. While the lasagna was in the oven, you and Jungkook put it up on the wall above his bed.

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LOVE ME AGAIN V (OF BTS), 2023

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[Text ID: “But how ironic I must be / to have entered a language / wherein I mistake / I will leave you / for / I will love you”]

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