Anaïs Nin, Delta Of Venus, Originally Published: 1977

the main event

dextrocardia | 16

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

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

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

Spouses.

pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader

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

word count: 6.5k

warnings: none besides.... fictional police work...

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 16/? 

<previous | next>

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

Despite everything, you fill with a sense of excitement as you drive off, Sana in the passenger seat beside you. It’s nice to feel like you have a purpose again, and even if you technically had one during the last mission with Jeongguk, it was overshadowed by the danger you believed resided under the same roof. 

It’s a comfortable journey, and soon enough the highway turns into a pristine neighborhood, bearing no trace of the traumatic events that occurred there months ago. Most of it looks the same as you remember it but other parts don’t. There’s an unfamiliar car parked outside ‘your’ house, and not only that, but glancing through the large windows as you cruise by, you spot movement inside. Children? You knew people would eventually move into the house–a house that never even belonged to you to begin with–but it feels weird.

Putting your more than illogical feelings aside, you focus on parking your car outside the Jungs’ house instead. Before stepping out, you and Sana give each other one last once-over. Despite the relatively low risk of this initial part of the mission, you’ve still made an effort to appear inconspicuous, and it’s not only for your own sake. Considering what they’ve done for you–Hoseok especially–you don’t want to be a bother if they’d rather not have law enforcement be seen knocking on their door.

It’s Eunha who opens the door, eyes going wide when they land on your face. For a second, your worry grows; what if your presence isn’t actually appreciated? At all? But then her lips pull into a smile.

“Oh, hello?”

“Hi, we were wondering if we could ask you a few questions? About another case, not… yours,” you find your greeting turning into rambling.

“Oh, uh, yeah, of course. Come on in. I’m a little busy baking at the moment, but Hobi is home, and I’m guessing he’s the one you really want to speak with?”

She wipes her hands on her light blue jeans, leaving a white, powdery residue on the fabric before opening the door wider. 

“Thank you,” you smile as you step inside, looking around to see that, as far as you can tell, everything looks the same as when you last paid the Jungs’ a visit. When you think about it, Hoseok never brought up the bugs you placed in their house, so you’re guessing they never found them. Or if they did, they haven’t brought it up for some reason or another. You’re not sure, but what you do know is that you’re not gonna be the one to do it, just in case.

“Make yourselves at home. I need to check on the cookies. Hobi!” she turns to call out into the house, “We have guests!”

With an apologetic smile, Eunha excuses herself, and then you and Sana are left alone in the entryway. You share some kind of look. Sure, you didn’t expect too much hostility, but to leave you, two detectives, unsupervised in their home? 

A second later, the sound of footsteps approaches, and you smile toward the brown-haired man as he comes into view, his confused features turning happy. He takes in the sight of you before he closes the distance to give you a warm hug.

“How are you? You look good!” he compliments, also turning to shake Sana’s hand, a very sweet smile on his lips. “Hoseok.”

“Sana,” she greets.

“I’m doing well,” you answer, “He is too; made a full recovery.”

Hoseok’s smile falls, and he takes on a rather baffled look instead. “We saw on the news. About the station and the investigation and all that. Crazy. I mean, we knew there were corrupt cops, but to that extent?”

“Yeah.”

“So what brings you here?” he asks, a glint slowly returning to his eyes. “Was it maybe something I said one time at a hospital?”

You nod, “Yeah. Can you tell us what you know? Or give us any tips at all so that we can stop Kyung Sunghyun once and for all?”

You watch him contemplate. Since he first let that comment about Ksung slip at the hospital, you’ve felt that he’s a good enough man to at least not mind Sunghyun being investigated and possibly put behind bars. But what can he say without incriminating himself for essentially planning a robbery? And can he trust you if he accidentally lets something slip? You might seem like you’ve stopped pursuing him, but can he trust you not to, ever?

“Why don’t we take a seat in the living room?” He gestures for you to follow him, and after quickly taking off your shoes and jackets, you do, with Sana in tow.

Sitting on the Jungs’ couch, you wait for Hoseok to get comfortable and for Sana to pull her pen and notebook out of her bag. 

“Hey, love?” Hoseok calls out to his wife, turning to the two of you, “You want something to drink?”

“Oh, water would be fine,” Sana accepts, and you nod, “Yeah.”

“Hm?” Eunha appears in the doorway. She seems to have more flour on her pants than last time.

“Could you bring us some water?”

“Of course. Anything else?”

Hoseok thinks about it for a second before he lights up, “Oh, do we have some of those brownies left?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll bring a few pieces.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as Eunha leaves, Hoseok turns to you again, a look of concentration coloring his features. “So, what do you want to know?”

“Well, everything,” you say.

“Okay. I’ll warn you that I might not know as much as you think, and some things–not that I know them–I can’t say. I guess I can start by saying that, hypothetically, if I were a criminal of any kind, I would probably still stay as far away from other criminals as possible; especially if I had… valuables that might make me a target. No honor amongst thieves and all that, you know?”

Although his words deny any criminal activity, his expression reveals that he’s well aware that everyone in the room knows that he’s far from innocent. At least as far as the law is concerned. You watch him intently, waiting for whatever information he has and praying that it’ll help.

Sana drives you both home an hour or so later, you sitting quietly in the passenger seat and staring out the window as the world passes by.

“We need to tell Jihyo as soon as possible,” Sana says, “I can drive you home after if you want me to? Unless you’d rather stay with me?”

“No, it’s… fine. I’m fine.”

You are fine. Although it could’ve sent you into some sort of panic attack, it didn’t. It’s just a reminder of why you don’t trust men, and you feel yourself withdrawing instead.

Hoseok didn’t have too much info on the Ksung trafficking case. As you expected, they spent a pretty significant amount of time trailing Sunghyun and his closest men in order to map their routines. Not that Hoseok admitted it; it was very ‘hypothetical’. But from what you gathered, it was difficult to get close to the top men and almost harder to follow anyone. Then, when everything happened and Hoseok and Yoongi understood that you’d been watching them, they put the plans mostly on hold. Except for one thing.

“He, of course, doesn’t actually get his hands dirty if he can help it, and we weren’t–you’d have to be a whole team to keep track of everyone and what they’re doing. But …there might be a private plane flying mostly under the radar about once a month. Someone might’ve found… ‘receipts’ for fuel from different places, and when pieced together, they form a vague route.”

“I guess the question is, why the need to fly incognito? Is it possible it flies… cash or other valuables from the bank that they’d rather not have everyone know of?” Sana asks, and you nod in agreement. It’s a very valid concern; you wouldn’t want just anyone to know if you’re transporting valuable cargo, even legally.

“The plane is refueled more often and with less fuel than a cargo plane, according to the receipts. It seems to be a very small plane, with a correspondingly small fuel tank. And these days, flight tracking is the default; it’s definitely an extra step to opt-out. Sometimes even difficult to achieve.”

“So we’ll be looking into this plane, alright. Where are the receipts from? Is there a pattern? Somewhere we can go to see if we catch them as they’re refueling?”

“The first stop is around three hours from their headquarters, so you’d assume the plane is stationed around there somewhere, but it might have proved hard to actually find it. I’ll give you the coordinates for that and the other locations.”

“Thank you.”

It’s with genuine gratitude that you thank Hoseok. It’s truly ironic that one of the sweetest men in your story is a bank robber, while the police have taken on the role of your enemy.

“So how is your case coming along? You haven’t found them yet, I assume?”

You press your lips together briefly before sighing. You know you shouldn’t disclose anything, really, but again, with how much has been on the news, the public would’ve known if the wanted police officers had been apprehended. And they haven’t. You’ve been told not even the Jimin-lead actually led to anything.

So you shake your head. "Still looking.”

To your surprise, Hoseok looks to be thinking hard about something.

“Okay, so… this might not lead anywhere, but if you’re stuck and possibly trailing Ksung’s people anyway… rumor has it that Ksung has been paying off the cops for a while. Not sure what station, but maybe, someone–at least up until around two months ago–used to meet up with someone at seven a.m. on the fifteenth of every month. Like I said, it’s supposedly around two hours away from here, essentially smack dab in the middle between the closest stations, but given your previous colleagues’... reluctance to follow the law, it might be worth checking out.”

“But they’ve been on the run for months now,” Sana questions, “If Ksung has been paying for police protection or their deliberate ignorance, then what would be the point now? They don’t have anything left to offer.”

“Their silence, maybe?” Hoseok tries to offer an explanation. “They could be blackmailing Ksung into giving them the money they need while on the run. Pay up, or they’ll tip someone off?”

“If what we think about Ksung is true, wouldn’t he just… get rid of them if that were the case? Can’t be that much of a leap between trafficking and murder? Especially if they’re a threat to everything Sunghyun built?”

You adjust your position on the couch, sitting quite literally on the edge of your seat and looking at Sana. “Yeah, I honestly think so too. It wouldn’t make sense to let some of the most wanted people blackmail you like that. There’s a big risk that they’re caught and then they might blab and drag you down too. Better to get rid of them.”

“Maybe,” Hoseok adds, “But there were a lot of officers caught in the investigation, weren’t there?”

“Yeah. All fired,” Sana confirms.

“Again, I can’t promise it’ll help because it’s somewhat of a long shot, but what if you didn’t catch them all? What if…”

“--Someone’s still working at the station,” you continue where Hoseok trailed off. “And taking bribes?”

“And you think that person is helping Hoseong?” Sana wonders, her eyes wide.

“Don’t know, but what are the odds of two separate groups of officers being corrupt?”

You really don’t want to answer that.

Jihyo is surprised at your findings, but when you turn it around to look at it from another angle, it makes an awful lot more sense. Instead of questioning the odds of your two cases being connected, it’s not so strange to think that a criminal bank CEO might be bribing the town’s corrupt police. It’s just strange for you to have found yourself in the middle of it.

“So what do we do?” Sana whispers, glancing at Jihyo’s closed office door behind her.

“Wait. What’s today’s date?” Jihyo asks, her eyes going wide as she realizes what you’ve already had time to see.

“January fourteenth,” Sana explains.

Jihyo looks at you and Sana and the look you give each other. “No. We should wait for backup; the outsourced detectives will be here in a week.”

“We’ll miss the window,” you argue quietly.

Jihyo raises her eyebrows. “What if it’s not true? What if it’s a trap to get rid of you?”

“Set up by Hoseok? I don’t think so. He could’ve gotten rid of us today if he wanted to, and I don’t think he would; he saved us, after all.”

“Well, you more or less surprised him today, and people knew where you were, so it would’ve been stupid on his part. Getting rid of you while you’re ‘looking for someone else’ would be a better plan. And like you’ve said before, when he saved your life, he didn’t know that you were investigating him yet. Now that he does, he might’ve just been waiting for an opportunity. What are the odds of you finding all of this out on the fourteenth when the supposed meeting is taking place tomorrow?”

Well, when she’s putting it like that you have to agree that there’s a risk. Not a big one, you don’t think, but a risk nonetheless.

“I want to go,” you say before lowering the volume of your voice further, “If there is someone here still… if there’s a mole, we need to… we need to act as soon as possible. The longer we wait, even if we try to be discreet, the higher the risk of him finding out.”

Jihyo sighs, lifting her hand to rub her forehead until she seemingly decides.

“Fine. Do you want to go tomorrow? Together? Maybe you should bring someone else as well?”

“Who? We don’t know who the mole or informant is, and if you suggest bringing Jeongguk…” you trail off. Jeongguk is great, but this is not his area of expertise.

“He’ll want to go, regardless.”

“He’s not a detective.”

“He’s out on a call right now?” Sana asks.

Jihyo nods. “Yeah, I think so. Out patrolling, at least.”

“Don’t tell him,” Sana suggests.

“You don’t think it’s him, right?” Jihyo asks in disbelief.

Sana continues, “No, but… the more people who know, the bigger the risk. I think he’ll do more good here, keeping up the charades.”

A few hours later, you’re already in the car, heading toward the spot Hoseok pointed out on a map. The meeting isn’t supposed to take place until tomorrow morning, which gives you a valuable opportunity to scope the place out beforehand.

The sun has set by the time you reach a hill, the road ending in an empty cul-de-sac with a low stone wall overlooking the arches of a large, gray viaduct. There’s a road running parallel to you, only on the other side of the wall, below the hill. It doesn’t pass under the viaduct, which stands almost perpendicular to you, but instead turns to run alongside it. You lean your gloved hands against the stone wall, following the road and its sidewalk below with your eyes. 

The meeting point is supposedly a few meters from the sidewalk, up underneath the viaduct’s closest arches. From this spot, you can’t see beyond the arch, except for a few bushes and trees. It looks like it might be downhill.

Hidden by the elevation, the stone wall, and some trees, the current spot will be where you park the car tomorrow, and before checking in at a nearby hotel for the night, you decide to also check out the other side of the viaduct.

“So, how does it feel to be back for real?” Sana asks, stepping out of the bathroom and putting her toothbrush in her mouth.

Sitting on the bed, you flip through the TV channels. “Uh, good. I really missed this… feeling of having a purpose?”

She pauses the brushing, toothbrush still in her mouth as she speaks. “Mhm, I get what you’re saying. And… how does it feel, knowing that there might be someone we… missed?”

You take a moment to think about it. “I don’t know. I’m so used to walking around the hallways, paranoid of who might be waiting around the corner. Waiting for me to be alone somewhere. After a while, you just don’t have the energy to be that scared anymore.”

Sana nods in understanding, brushing her teeth thoroughly for another few seconds before she enters the bathroom again to spit the foam into the sink.

“Did you know that I basically didn’t fight them at all when they came for us during the undercover assignment?” you ask, fiddling with the remote on the white bedspread.

“Jeongguk mentioned something about feeling like you’d given up, but not a lot more. He wanted us to stay close and check up on you; said he thought the last year had taken a bigger toll on you than we’d assumed.”

“Yeah. I’ve been so scared for such a long time; felt for so long that I stand no chance whenever they actually decide to try it. I didn’t think there was any use in fighting them when they came, so I just… stood there. I closed my eyes.”

“But Jeongguk saved you.”

“He did, yeah. Let himself be stabbed by a fucking samurai sword.”

Sana’s quiet as she exits the bathroom again, a white robe in her arms. 

You let out a deep breath. “What would you do? If you were me?”

Immediately understanding, she sits down on the other bed. “I don’t know. I want to say that I’d give him a chance, but I think it might be easier said than done.”

You look down at your hands. “Yeah.”

“I do believe he’s a good guy, and I think he’s learned his lesson, but a relationship can’t depend on whether he’s good or not, if he deserves you, or whether you should forgive him, can it?”

“It shouldn’t?” you raise your eyebrow at her, smiling a little.

“No, I mean, you shouldn’t be with him if the answer to those questions is ‘no,’ but the next question is just… Do you want to be with him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then… does being with him make you happy?”

You feel your whole body practically answer her question. Your eyes drop sadly to the bedspread again, and your shoulders lift a little anxiously. “I think he makes me feel inadequate.”

She looks at you sadly. “You know that you’re not, though, right? You get to feel that way, and he has no say over your feelings because he’s the one who caused them, but you’re more than enough. We’ll support you no matter what you decide to do.”

Nodding slowly, you take another deep breath, getting up from the bed to brush your own teeth.

Usually, you find it hard to wake up fully when the sun has yet to rise and it’s freezing cold. Even the hotel’s hard but warm bed would be tempting you to stay in. But not today. The moment the alarm blares, you’re already reaching for your phone to quiet it, sitting up and looking around. On the other bed, not far from yours, Sana is rubbing her eyes and yawning. Today’s the day you might actually find a good lead.

Due to the nature of today’s assignment, you’re armed, just in case, and you’re clipping small body cameras to your thick, black jackets. On your head, you’ve got black beanies, and your hands are gloved as well to withstand the cold.

The sun still hasn’t made it far on its journey across the sky when you park the car in the same spot as you did yesterday. 

“I’m in my position,” Sana informs through the earpiece. You dropped her off closer to the other side of the viaduct, where she’s currently hiding a little farther down a walkway and behind some parked cars. 

“Good. Me too,” you confirm, leaning your elbows against the wall. Thanks to the trees and the relative distance, you’re well hidden as you kneel behind the stone wall, focusing on the meeting point through your black binoculars.

“It’s five fifty a.m., and we’re both in position,” you repeat, more so for the recordings.

“And so we wait,” Sana concludes.

Despite the thick jackets, it doesn’t take long before you’re freezing. If you could, you’d sit in the car, at least to be protected from the biting wind, but the angle from there wouldn’t let you see over the wall. Sana complains quietly about her fingers while your cheeks hurt the most. Every glance at your watch is painful.

Six fifty arrives, and you focus further. But there’s no one. Once every few minutes, a car or two passes on the road below you, but that’s it. Seven o’clock. Still no one. You’re starting to fear that maybe you missed them? Did they change location? Or maybe they decided on another time? What if they really just stopped meeting up, altogether? Hoseok didn’t seem too sure, after all. You bite your lip, trying to keep your cold body still. If there is an informant, you need to catch him.

Then, at seven twenty, you hear something. It’s the rustling of thick fabric as Sana adjusts her position.

“Dark-clothed male, moving in. 4 o’clock.”

As slowly and inconspicuously as you can, to not draw attention, you turn your head. Sure enough, a man is walking on the sidewalk below and to your right. 

Just like you, he’s dressed in all black, a bulky jacket covering most of his body except his legs. He’s got the hood pulled over his head and his hands in his pockets.

“Can you get a visual of his face?” you ask, watching wide-eyed as he passes below you.

“No, he’s got something–a shirt or something–pulled up over his mouth and nose.”

“Okay, looks like he’s headed for the viaduct,” you say, waiting to see if he follows the sidewalk as it turns to run parallel to the viaduct, or if he steps in under the arch. “We’ll wait and see if anyone else shows.”

But the man doesn’t stop to wait for someone. He steps off the sidewalk, casually walking over to the closest of the huge pillars, graffitied in blue and green, and swiftly retrieves something from under a small bush. A bag?

“It’s a dead drop,” Sana exclaims as the man continues on his path, heading in her direction. It only took a few seconds, and anyone less observant would’ve missed the pickup. 

“Do you recognize him?” you ask, on the edge of your seat. “Can you follow?”

You’re too far away to follow him on foot, and driving down would be impractical and likely draw his attention, so you stay put.

Instead, Sana moves, the rustling loud in your ears, and you hold your breath. It’s always more nerve-wracking to watch someone else pursue and track a target than doing it yourself. If this man discovers her, you don’t know what will happen, much less what he’ll do if he recognizes her.

The man disappears from view, and for a while, all you hear is Sana’s breathing and that same occasional rustling of her jacket as she moves. Then, there’s a bout of silence before her quiet, shocked voice comes through. 

“I can’t follow him further; he’s getting into a black car. I… I think it’s JJ.”

As quickly as possible, you drive back to the station, wondering if you ever missed a clue about JJ. Considering how many men work at the station and how you’ve had to keep a very close eye on some of them, JJ has flown under your radar a bit. The tall man wasn’t anyone you’ve paid much attention to or interacted with, but he never came across as weird or suspicious; just as a regular man. He never outright harassed you, but he never stood up for you either, but then again, he wasn’t the only one using that approach. Additionally, you’ve seen him with Jeongguk a bunch of times, and you figured Jeongguk had cleared all the remaining men. Not that it’s Jeongguk’s fault, but still; you don’t think he’s easy to fool.

“How sure are you?” Jihyo asks in a hushed voice, her worried eyes flitting between you, Sana, and the closed office door. You know JJ is already at the station, you walked past him in the hallway, dressed in uniform. You weren’t able to follow the man, but considering you had to wait a bit and then drive down to collect Sana, it’s entirely plausible he made it back before you.

“Like eighty percent. It was hard to see, but… I’m pretty sure. Don’t know if I captured anything of value, but we can go through the recordings to be sure?”

“Maybe we can look through the work schedule as well?” you suggest. “If he hasn’t been clocked in at seven to eight a.m. on the fifteenth of the last few months–probably since they went on the run–then–” 

“–We still can’t rule him out,” Jihyo interrupts sadly. “Even if he’s been clocked in, he–maybe together with his partner–could’ve simply driven there while on duty, assuming they weren’t on an active call. Maybe not super likely, but not impossible. So if he’s been clocked in, we’d need to look at those exact hours and place him on specific calls.”

“Which might take a while,” Sana adds, and you nod, realizing that she’s right.

Your heart races. “So what do we do?”

“His car’s in the garage, right?”

Jihyo gives Sana a warning look. “We’ll need a warrant to search it, and this is not enough for one.” 

“But not to take a look through the window,” you say, biting your lip and meeting Sana’s eyes.

You wait for Jihyo’s objection, but it doesn’t come. “Be careful,” she whispers instead, following you toward the door. “If there’s one, there might be more.”

“Yes, boss.”

Being the first one to step out of Jihyo’s office, you glance the other way, just in case JJ happens to be watching. However, you don’t look where you’re going, and of course, you run headfirst into someone’s chest.

“Hey,” a deep voice says, its owner steadying you by your arms. Of course. 

Embarrassed, you look up, only to meet Jeongguk’s dark eyes. He’s dressed head to toe in uniform, the sleeves rolled up to expose his veiny forearms, tattoos and all, and it’s clear that he’s on his way out to patrol. You didn’t know he was really patrolling again, but then again, it doesn’t seem like they were getting anywhere on your case, and well… you don’t talk much these days. Like always when he’s near, your heart rate picks up, and your skin heats under his hands despite the fabric between you.

“Uh, sorry,” you apologize, looking away. You know you’re normally a pretty good actress, but today, you just feel too wound up and on edge. Jeongguk holds onto your arms, his observant eyes gazing over you.

“Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Everything’s fine,” you say with a nod, glancing at Sana. “But we need to go.”

But Jeongguk doesn’t give up. “There’s something’s going on, isn’t there?”

“No,” you lie again.

“You’re making me worried.”

“You don’t need to be.”

His gaze flickers between you and Sana, and even though you don’t think he’s completely buying it, he lets go. “Promise me you’ll tell me if you find out anything.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, already moving away. Technically, you being ‘off’ can simply be explained by the fact that you’re not entirely comfortable around him.

After getting rid of Jeongguk, you and Sana enter the station’s parking garage. The personnel floor is empty, save for about twenty to thirty vehicles, Jeongguk’s motorcycle included. Still, you make sure to look around before you start.

“What did the car look like?” you ask, peering through the back window of the closest one, a small dark blue car.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t make out much besides the color and size. It was black and a pretty small one, I think.”

You look around. Almost all cars are black. Or at least dark enough to be mistaken for black. "Do we even know what his actual car looks like?"

“Well... Let’s just check all of them. Just to be safe.”

Even though you make sure to check carefully, the process goes quickly. Until Sana calls your name quietly, the black car in front of her being her sixth or seventh.

“That could be it, right?” she points toward something barely visible, halfway under the passenger seat. But yeah, it looks like black fabric, maybe part of a small bag, but you can’t be entirely sure.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“If we could only look inside,” Sana mutters.

“Yeah,” you sigh, your shoulder dropping in disappointment. “But all he did was maybe pick up a bag of unknown contents outside. It’s not enough. Should we just check the rest of them and then head back?”

Sana nods, “I’ll finish this row.”

Jihyo is still in her office when you return, having found nothing but the maybe-bag. She’s pacing on the phone to someone, motioning for you to enter when you cautiously peek your head through the door.

“Okay… Just get back to me as soon as you can, alright?” she says, sitting down behind her desk. “Yeah, okay, bye.”

“We saw what we think could be the bag, halfway hidden under the seat of a car that looks about the one the man got into,” Sana explains quietly after you’ve closed the door behind you.

“Okay, so nothing’s ruled out and nothing’s confirmed,” Jihyo concludes.

You nod, trying to think of the next steps. “Well, what if we review the camera footage? We were probably too far away, but you never know, right? And Jihyo, you could check the schedules and work hours, start cross-checking them with the calls responded to. I’ll see if I can dig up anything else about him.”

For a few hours, you work in Jihyo’s office, all three of you focused. Jihyo sits behind her desk,  trying to see if she can match JJ to specific calls on any recent fifteenths and thus provide him with an alibi. 

Sana sits in a chair on the other side of the desk, her laptop open in front of her as she goes through every frame of your recordings, and you sit on the floor, back against the wall, scrolling through both your phone and laptop. 

“Finding anything?” Sana wonders, sighing in frustration–a sign that the recordings aren’t giving her anything useful.

“Maybe…” Jihyo replies, eyes locked on her screen. “Can you read line thirty-seven for me?” She hands Sana a sheet of paper listing the calls.

“Sure. Uh… Call about vandalism came at six twenty-seven a.m., reported closed at eight thirty-two. October fifteenth, last year.”

“Six twenty-seven to eight thirty-two,” Jihyo repeats as you scroll through JJ’s instagram, clicking on yet another tagged friend.

“Mhm,” Sana hums.

“Well, he was clocked in… But it seems like… yeah, Min and Mark were the ones who responded to it.”

The room feels… tense in a way, something Jihyo is about to put into words. Meanwhile, you focus on your phone, fingers tapping away quickly and your heartbeat rising.

“Doesn’t seem like we can rule him out. Which, you know, sucks because we all trust him–maybe trusted him–and we don’t want yet another one to have betrayed us. But if it is him, then maybe… we might finally be getting somewhere? Maybe?”

“Yeah, I agree. Don’t like the direction we’re moving in, but at least we’re moving.”

“Hey, guys,” you say, your eyes still glued to the screen in your hands. “JJ has a stepsister named Jimin.”

“What?” Sana exclaims, her voice hushed and eyes wide as she turns to you.

“Yeah. JJ’s mom seems to be dating this Jimin’s dad, but it doesn’t look like they’re married; not even like they live together.”

“So there are no ties on paper?”

“No, no ties.”

All three of you exchange silent looks, realizing what this could mean. You might have an address.

After discussing your findings–all hushed voices and big eyes as you conclude that, yeah, maybe Jimin visited her brother at the station and stumbled across Hoseong–you decide to take a break. You need to pee and Sana complained only a minute ago of her rumbling stomach. To be fair, you haven’t had time to take any real breaks, much less eat.

Determined, you leave the office, discreetly looking around before heading toward the bathroom. Sana leaves for the cafeteria.

After using the bathroom, you sit on the closed toilet lid to gather your thoughts. It almost feels like you need to catch your breath, too. Do you dare hope that you might finally get them? Still, you find yourself imagining what you’d do if that were the case. It’s not like they’ve haunted you for decades, but even a few months stretching into years feels like such a long time. A lifetime, almost. You experienced life at the station before everything went down, but is it even possible to return to that? Maybe it isn’t; you’re not the same person anymore.

Still thinking deeply about what this revelation might mean, you head back toward Jihyo’s office. Occasionally–like now–the white halls are empty, but as you approach the wooden door with the frosted window, you hear voices inside. They’re not abnormally loud per se, but louder than they should be.

You open the door, and for a moment, the voices fall silent. Already back, Sana stands with a Saran-wrapped bread bun and coffee in her hands. Jihyo sits behind her desk as usual, her laptop open and the call papers scattered across her normally tidy desk. And Jeongguk is standing in front of it, still in his uniform, wild eyes looking back at you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything for the better,” you say, stepping in fully and closing the door behind you. “You’re with the guys more than we are. We don’t want them to find out.”

“There’s a risk anyway,” he says, turning to Jihyo, “We need to go there as soon as possible.”

Jihyo meets his gaze, her expression understanding but firm. “Jeongguk, like I said, we need to wait for backup. We’re understaffed, and there’s too much of a risk that they’ll recognize you. Besides, all of you inside this room are too emotionally involved at this point.”

His hands fly out, and though he tries to keep his voice down, frustration seeps through. “They were allowed to watch JJ accept a bribe in the first place?” he argues.

“Yes, and that was risky enough. If they recognize you, they’ll probably try to kill you. They’ve got nothing to lose, and you’re the reason they’re in this mess to begin with. Just hang in there until backup arrives.”

He shakes his head in frustration and disbelief. “This is crazy. They’ve tried to kill her so many times, and someone connected to them is still here. For all we know, he could be planning something on their behalf as we speak!”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I understand you’re frustrated; we all are, but this is the best course of action.”

He gestures toward you, “She needs to leave in that case. She can’t stay here.”

To be honest, you’re not that scared of JJ. He’s never seemed particularly interested in you, and you don’t think he’s planning to kill you or anything like that. Months have passed without you even suspecting he might be involved, and nothing has happened. Sure, you were mostly with Jeongguk until recently and not that often at the station, so while the opportunities might not have been plentiful, JJ has had his chances.

Jihyo sighs, leaning back in her chair. “It’s up to her.”

He turns to face you fully. “Come stay with me? Take a week off, stay at my place.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m staying at my place, and I’ll continue to work if I feel like it.”

“Please?”

You’ll never stop being surprised at how easily Jeongguk lets go of his pride. But by doing it so quickly, with so few reservations, it’s almost as if he grows in your eyes. You try not to think about him in that way.

You shake your head. “I don’t want you to think that you need to save me all the time. I’ll be fine on my own.”

He glances around at the three women in the room, none giving him the support he wants. He looks like he wants to say something, but suddenly, someone calls for him on his com radio.

“Go,” Jihyo instructs as Jeongguk gives you one last longing look before quickly exiting through the door.

Jeongguk can’t shake the new information, and as the day progresses, it keeps gnawing at him, his mind turning over every possible option again and again. While that last call–regarding a break-in—kept him distracted for a bit, his thoughts return as he enters the station again, Min heading off to the cafeteria.

He knows you’ve already gone home by the time he’s clocking out and heading for the locker room, still unsure of what to do. It terrifies him to know that there’s still someone who might want to hurt you, walking these halls. That he missed someone. 

He’s got three options to choose from. The first: go home. Get some sleep. Or at least try to get some sleep. And then just hope that JJ didn’t spot you this morning and is waiting to attack you outside your apartment door. Jeongguk knows that it’s what you want him to do; go home and not get involved. But he’ll never forgive himself if something happens to you.

Option two is to drive to your apartment and sit in his car outside it all night. He’ll do it if needed, but it’s not very tempting, and it’ll render him useless at work tomorrow. Additionally, if nothing happens tonight–which, yeah, it might not–then he’ll need to guard you the night after as well. Sooner or later, he’ll need to sleep.

Biting his lip, he enters the locker room, taking a lap to make sure he’s alone before pulling out his phone. Google gives him the number to the nearest car rental, and he wastes no time, pressing ‘dial.’

He’s picking option three, and he needs a car that isn’t his.

<previous | next>

author's note: i hope you liked it!! <3<3

which team are you? team crust or no crust? 😆

if I can never give you peace — eight || Jungkook

[Moodboard by @jeonlovescoffee]

Pairing: Jungkook x reader // Word count (chapter): 7.5k // Genre: Mafia AU, Hybrid AU, enemies to lovers

↳ It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy,  who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then  it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father  decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fights and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

Until he comes back.

Warnings and tags (chapter): toxic parental relationship, explosion, general angst

First · Previous · Next

(there is a long author's note under the chapter, feel very free to skip it lol)

“How is everything looking, Hector?” is the first thing you say when you walk though the new building’s glass doors.

The simple action brings you a sense of satisfaction you haven’t felt in a long time, as you take in what you’ve achieved. Of course, the situation is still far from what it was before Mr. X was murdered. The Organization doesn’t own this building, and it’s merely renting one floor from it. It’s also not quite as impressive of a building as you would have liked, but it will have to do, and you know that getting your hands on this place in a couple of weeks is nothing short of a miracle.

But then, knowing which strings to pull and which palms to grease had always been your thing, hadn’t it.

God, it felt good to be back to doing things the way you used to.

“Everything seems to be in order, ma’am,” Hector replies, matching his step to yours as you walk towards the elevator. Despite the fact that it’s still early in the morning, the lobby is already bursting with life. The image you’re giving the group right now is an excellent one. There’s still a lot of work to be done on the floor you’re renting, but that is only temporary and, frankly, you cannot find it in yourself to care about that right now.

“Mr. Jeon should be coming in to check on things in about twenty minutes,” you say as the elevator doors close, his schedule clear as day in your mind. “I want everyone ready.”

Everything won’t be ready by then, even you can only manage so much, but arranging for people to greet him and for his office to be in order should be feasible. You know he won’t be all that impressed by it, can picture his expression of annoyance and vague disgust. Still, it should make it clear that you have everything under wraps and that he wasn’t wrong in giving you free reign in handling the building. As you were taking the steps to do that, you had been able to tell that he wasn’t happy about all of your choices. He’d held back saying anything on that, though.

That was ultimately a good thing, of course, but you weren't sure what to make of it. Before, at least, you knew what you were dealing with. You’d tried to fight back all the paranoid thoughts you’d been having ever since the shift in Jungkook’s demeanor, tried to just trust, for once. That had been— easier said than done. Maybe you just weren't wired that way, maybe you just didn’t have it in yourself.

Knowing, from the looks you sometimes caught him giving you, that the feeling was mutual had brought a surprising sense of comfort.

The elevator doors ding as they open, and you step out on the busy floor. People are rushing in every direction, carrying boxes, chairs, computers, papers, and the occasional plant. Behind a circular desk, directly facing you, a woman is setting up a computer and doesn’t notice you. In fact, no one so much as glances in your direction, and it takes you a few long seconds to find one of the security guards that you’ve hired.

That simply won’t do.

“Who is in charge of watching the elevator?” you ask the man without bothering to greet him.

You see him blink as he tries to figure out who you are. Finally, he seems to recognize Hector and, though he clearly still hasn’t placed you, he must decide that you’re important.

“Sorry, ma’am, we’re pretty busy here, I—”

“One person needs to have eyes on it at all times,” you order. There’s no inflection to your tone, no anger, and yet it leaves no place for discussion. “That is the only thing that is needed of you. Anything, and I mean anything that happens in here must be white noise to you. Is that clear?”

He swallows.

“Yes, ma’am. Understood.”

But you don’t think he does. No matter. You’ll fix it soon enough. Perhaps it would be smart to put one of Jungkook’s men at this spot. You doubt this man truly realizes what is happening here, what this company even is, and, frankly, what he risks, being here. You suppose you’ll find somewhere else for him, and you mentally file the task before briskly turning away from him.

“Mr. Jeon’s office is that way, Hector?”

You barely need to ask. You’ve studied the plans, you've chosen the emplacement for the office, to the point that you already know this place like the back of your hand, even if it’s your first time actually stepping foot in it.

Hector hums in affirmation, following after you as you make your way through the corridor. You don’t miss anything happening around you. You glance at the wide room where half of the desks have already been set up, and at the people who are already there. They’re here to act as the legal front of the business, which really is mostly just a way to launder money. None of them are actually of value, and you haven’t bothered remembering their names or faces, but they’ll come in handy as a group.

You do recognize, in a corner, two accountants that you managed to hire again. You’ll need some more, but these two are capable of actual magic with numbers, and it’s a relief to you that that’s one less thing you’ll have to worry about. One of them looks up, meeting your eyes, and you give her a polite nod, which she returns. The quiet respect of the interaction is one more thing that helps grounding you.

You wish everything could be this simple.

When you walk into Jungkook’s office, you know exactly what you’re going to find. Except what catches your eye isn’t the elegant wooden desk, the leather chair, or the impressive view on the city you have through the picture window. No, it’s the floral arrangement that sits proudly on the desk, and the rich perfume that’s emanating from it.

You don’t know much about the language of flowers. You’ve never had to give it much thought. You do know that you don’t like these colors. Lots of red, dark greens, some unpleasant touches of purple. It’s too intense, jarring, almost tacky. When you take the card that’s planted in the middle, you know exactly what to expect.

‘Jungkook,’ the card reads in elegant calligraphy, ‘I see you keep walking in my father’s footsteps. There are things that we need to discuss. You know where to find me. —A.’

Even though your back is turned to Hector, you only stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the last second, and you want to scold yourself in response to it. If you start letting emotions slip through, you’re not sure you’ll be able to hold them in next time it really matters. You know that. You need to— you need to stop slipping.

The card goes into your wallet. New filing. You’ll have to remember to burn that later.

“Throw these out,” you order Hector. “Take the stairs to avoid running into Mr Jeon, and go out the back. Then try to find out if anyone saw them getting delivered.”

“Are you sure, ma’am? If he finds out—”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

At the finality of your words, Hector just nods stiffly and takes the basket the flowers came in. Not long ago, you would have thought he had an excellent point, would have taken pains to ensure Jungkook wouldn’t find out. It was true that he still wouldn’t be happy about you hiding things from him, but it was— things had changed, too. You didn’t think he would mind that much. He’d probably understand.

Shit. Since when did you work on probably’s when it came to your safety? You needed— you weren’t sure what you needed. To get a grip or to trust him on this?

Anna trying to contact him was undoubtedly bad news, though. Your mind latches to the obvious distraction, all too happy to move away from the dilemma. Thinking of Jungkook's possible reaction to her is enough to make your stomach twist at the thought of what happened last time. You don’t want to have to go find him, all bruised and battered, after spending the night at the Circle. You don’t want to have to see him in that state again. And most of all, you don’t want to think about what he must have felt like, to inflict that upon himself.

You breathe in, slowly. As unreasonable as it is, that is probably your main reason for not letting Jungkook see the flowers and the note. You just, desperately, irrationally, want to protect him. It’s something you did a pretty shitty job at all those years ago, no matter how hard you tried, and it’s something you’d like to do better now, since you have the chance.

That isn’t the only reason, though. You’re also not sure Jungkook can be trusted around Anna. She’s been playing the manipulation game for a long time, possibly as long as she’s been alive, and it’s clear that she still has some form of influence on him. You don’t want to give her a chance at figuring that out — figuring him out. You’re certain that it would jeopardize the Organization, and, again, you don't think that would be good for Jungkook. Falling back into Anna’s arms is the last thing he needs.

Maybe you should put more faith in him, but you’ve been doing a lot of that already, lately. It looks like this is where you find your limits.

You straighten your shoulders, glancing around the room. You cannot stay here immobile, waiting for Jungkook to arrive. Without a doubt, the potent smell hanging in the air is one he will notice. There’s even a strong possibility that that consideration impacted Anna’s choice of flowers.

It certainly would have impacted yours.

You don’t linger on that thought.

In just a few steps, you’re at the window. It takes you a second to get it opened, and when you do, the harsh, cold wind of November comes rushing in. You suppress a shiver, dig your teeth into your cheek to keep them for chattering. To finish the job, you retrieve an air freshener from a nearby closet. You made sure there would be some on hand, considering the fact that a number of hybrids would be working there. While they are not fond of the artificial smell, it’s still better than most of the unpleasant, natural ones that humans don’t necessarily notice.

And, apparently, it can be used when your bitch of an ex-boss keeps trying to sink her teeth in your new one. Like she hasn’t done him enough damage, like she hasn’t hurt him enough, like he won’t forever bare the scars she’s inflicted on him—

You still your movements, mind racing.

You’re used to the gnawing of irritation, the bite of the desire for revenge, the cold feeling of injustice. This white-hot anger is— new. It’s unlike you, frankly, and that fills you with fear. But what you find truly terrifying is the fact that you don’t find completely unpleasant. You should know better. You usually do.

Yet, for some reason, you cling on to this specific emotion.

Why?

“Why the fuck does it smell like that in here?”

Turning around to face Jungkook, the question is yet one more thing that you file away in the complex system that is your brain, making a mental note to come back to it later.

Or not.

“You’re here early, Mr. Jeon,” you say with a polite nod of your head. He’s standing in the doorway, nose scrunched in disgust, black hair falling in soft curls to frame his face and underline that perfect jaw of his. A scowl twists his mouth, no doubt due to the smell he was mentioning. “There was a strange smell in here,” you say flatly, without batting an eye. Not lying but not quite telling the truth either. “I assumed you would rather avoid that in your office.”

He doesn’t question what you say — why would he? — and just lets out an annoyed groan. You’re starting to suspect that it’s just your voice that gets on his nerves. He walks inside the room and looks around critically.

“I suppose this doesn’t look too bad,” he admits after a few second.

“This should only be temporary,” you tell him. “If everything goes well, you should be able to have your own floor.”

‘If everything goes well’ sure carries a lot of weight here.

If he makes it through the next day.

If he’s not horrifically murdered in the next few months.

If you don’t fuck up.

“I don’t know if I like this,” Jungkook comments, and there’s something in his tone that makes you look at him. He’s not really saying this to you, expecting you to react to this information. He’s just— saying it. Sharing his thoughts with you. It throws you off more than you would like to admit. “I’m not going to be running things from behind a desk.”

You bite your tongue, force yourself to think about what you want to say.

“Then think of this as being about your image, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “Ideally, I would prefer if you worked from here, at least until things settle down but,” you keep going, expecting his anger, “I would understand if you didn’t. Still, this place should be safe.” And you add, somewhat self-consciously. “I upped the security.”

He seems puzzled, and then an amused — somewhat mocking, but mostly amused — grin forms on his face.

“As long as you have some hybrids on the team, no one should be able to do what we did.”

You nod politely. You’d thought something along those lines.

“We will ensure that we do.”

“Frankly, even we didn’t think it would be that easy to take you on,” Jungkook adds, burying his hands in his pockets and taking a step towards you. The grin’s still dancing on his lips, and you stare. Is he trying to get a rise out of you?

You realize you’re taking too long to answer, and you look away, though you can tell that he's still looking at you, still smiling. You have no idea what to make of that or what you should reply. So, instead of going down that route, you clear your throat and pull out your phone, looking at it to read the schedule you know by heart.

“There is still work to be done up here,” you say, voice coming back to you now that you’re going down a familiar script, “so most of the appointments you have for today are outside. In the future, we’ll ideally hold most meetings here or in restaurants nearby.” You don’t add that you want to make sure people come to him, in a place where you can be in control, rather than the opposite. You know he wouldn’t like that, and you know he’ll likely keep his habits or going all around town. That is just something you’ll have to compose with.

“Right,” he says, tone just a little too sharp, and you hear all that he doesn’t say loud and clear. You could take issue with it, but you know that he’s making the same kind of effort you are.

You glance up at him and your eyes meet. In that moment, you both choose not to add anything that could get your defenses back up.

“Let’s get it done,” he says, and you nod.

This is something you think you could get used to. Actually, this is— nice, almost.

Almost.

While Jungkook has given you more freedom lately, not forcing you to be on his heels at all time, you are still in his presence more often than not. You are not entirely sure of how much of that is necessary. Since he now actually listens to you, it certainly makes more sense than it used to, but you can’t help but think that there has to be a better use of your time. You did mention, once, the possibility of having someone else filling in for you — someone who would be able to explain the inner workings of the Organization shouldn’t be that hard to find — but Jungkook just let out a dismissive scoff, and you didn’t bring it up again.

You did not want to push your luck, not for something that was ultimately harmless, when it was clear that you had finally reached a fragile truce. You still managed to get things done on your phone while Jungkook did— did his thing, more or less. It involved a lot of talking to people, a lot of handshakes, and many meetings in small offices that you were not always allowed into.

You were familiar with such interactions; Mr. X made sure to meet with the higher-ups at least once a month, and had frequent dinners with them individually. The difference was that Jungkook didn’t limit himself to the higher-ups. They were on the list, certainly, but it wasn’t all that rare for you to have to spend your afternoons in a freezing warehouse while Jungkook was talking with people who were only in command of a small group — sometimes, the meeting involved the whole group.

You did not say a word about it. At this point, you suspected that he knew what your feelings on the matter were, but he didn’t comment on it either. Those were differences that you could accept, especially because you could somewhat see the use in what he was doing.

Mr. X had never done anything to ensure the loyalty of those people and, though you sometimes met with one of your informants in person, neither had you. Usually, fear was enough to keep them in line. But with someone as charismatic and as confident as Jungkook… It was no wonder that that they felt they had a shot.

And, of course, a large number of the people Jungkook met with were hybrids. Some hid their attributes underneath hoodies and gloves; others flaunted them threateningly. You spotted lots of sharp teeth and claws, split tongues, scales, and, on one occasion, additional eyes on the temples of a spider-hybrid, usually hidden behind glasses.

Jungkook fit right in. The way he spoke, the way he held himself, it was obvious that he was seen as one of their own.

The same thing could not be said about you. Your mere presence could offset the balance in the whole room. On the few occasions when you interfered to talk to Jungkook, you were met with glares and even a couple of growls.

While there was no way Jungkook wouldn’t have noticed, he didn’t say anything about it. You weren’t sure what that meant. It seemed unlikely that he was putting you in these situations to make you fear for your life, not when he’d made it clear that you were not to be harmed by his men. That, however, did not help you figure out what his true reasoning was.

You were starting to wonder whether or not there was a reasoning. That was hard to wrap your head around, so unlike anything you had experienced in the years since you had joined the Organization. But then again, Jungkook was unlike anything you had experience since then.

And maybe that was not a bad thing.

During that time, you had started to send Hector do some of your less sensitive work. He’d recoiled at first at the idea of leaving you alone but, for once, he had not seemed too upset when you had insisted. You couldn’t say for sure if that was because he was mad at you or because he believed you when you told him you would be safe. He had simply nodded, and then he’d gotten to work. As it turned out, his heightened sense of hearing was an invaluable ability when he met with people or inspected places. You were always cautious not to send him anywhere too dangerous, of course, and you suspected that he knew that.

Trust might have been growing here, too, now that you thought about it.

Huh.

“This group is in charge of weapons entering the country,” you tell Jungkook in the car. “The government pays close attention to that, so they lay low when there’s no shipment coming in. The recent change in the group’s direction seems to have been well-received, even among the human members.”

Jungkook snorts at that.

“Yeah, ‘cause you would be the first to know if that wasn’t the case.”

“I actually keep a close eye on that group, considering their importance,” you reply, not even blinking at his derisive tone. “I would have heard about it.”

That makes him glance in your direction, raising an eyebrow.

“You have eyes everywhere, don’t you?” This time, he’s not mocking you.

“There seems to have been some movement within the group,” you continue, unwilling to reveal your secrets any more than you need to, “but most of the humans who were there kept their place. If anything, the new arrangement ensures more stability within the group, because the hybrids face less danger.”

You notice a muscle in Jungkook’s jaw contracting at your words, and you know exactly what he's thinking about. While weapons are strictly regulated in the country, humans caught carrying them can essentially get away with jail time, a fine if they’re lucky — or able to corrupt the police. For hybrids, however, punishment could go up to the death penalty. It says a lot about the Organization’s views that the team charged with handling the weapons was mostly hybrids.

So disposable that their lives could be lost to avoid jail time for humans.

“Most humans within the group seem to take no issue with the new arrangements,” you conclude. You’re not sure why you add that; it is an unnecessary assessment. It could be an attempt to ensure that the meeting you’re about to enter will be productive and that Jungkook won’t be out for blood. It could be you trying to stop the situation from worsening.

Or it could be a clumsy way of trying to bring him some comfort.

If that is what you are doing — and you refuse to look into it, refuse to analyze the way you’re feeling right now over something that insignificant — God are you bad at it.

“They better not,” Jungkook just growls.

There is more that you could say. According to your informant, something akin to friendship — comradeship at the very least — has developed within the group. These people look out for each other. Considering what happened in other factions once authority changed hands, you believe this to be significant. But none of this is objective, nor does it actually matter. Factions have been run without any of that for far longer than you've been involved with the Organization.

So you don’t say anything, merely lean back into your seat, and look out the window. The car is smoothly following along the bay, dwarfed by the massive cargo ships entering and leaving the harbor. Despite yourself, you feel your shoulders tensing. You’re always careful when you’re around here — would never set foot in here unless you absolutely had to. It’s too crowded, full of too many people from different factions. The ones that don’t belong to the Organization despise the ones that do. In the best of times, you’re not welcome there.

This is far from being the best of times.

Still, when you get out of the car alongside Jungkook, no one would be able to tell that the atmosphere here makes your skin crawl. Now that you frequently work with hybrids, your control over your breathing has become constant. One less thing for others to pick up on and to use against you; one more thing for you to constantly be mindful of.

You wonder if this should have been harder for you to implement, but the truth is that it only took a few days of effort. The control you have over your body at this point is— absurd, probably.

But even that doesn’t stop your heart from dropping in your chest and your blood from turning into ice in your veins when you spot a familiar face among the small group that is already gathered in the warehouse.

It’s been a while since you’ve last seen him. He’s aged considerably since the last time, grey streaks in his hair, circles under his eyes, and you wonder if anything happened and how he got affected to this job. The last time you had been in contact with him, he was still at the quiet position you had ensured he had, supervising the bouncers in a club that was not so secretly a brothel as well.

You remember the look on Mr. X’s face when you had asked him for the favor, the pleasure he’d taken in seeing you squirm.

You were almost— you were certain that this part of the business had not been affected by Jungkook’s reorganization of things. There was no reason for him to be here.

So then why are you suddenly staring at your father’s face, standing in the middle of a shady warehouse?

Had something happened? Was there an issue with money? Why wouldn’t your family have contacted you and why, why hadn’t you kept better fucking track of his whereabouts, why hadn’t you known—

Your thoughts are interrupted by Jungkook’s voice as he greets the group’s leader, and you immediately try to correct yourself. You can tell that your jaw is clenched too tightly, know that there is probably a tension in your shoulders that looks unnatural. You can only hope that people will blame it on you being a stuck-up bitch; anything that they already believe to be true about you. Anything but the truth.

You barely lay eyes on the man who brings Jungkook in a brief embrace. Hoseok, you’d learned when checking your intel. There are doubts as to what type of hybrid he is. The unnerving smoothness with which he moves makes you suspect snake, but it could just as easily be something else. He shoots you a quick smile, which would have caught you by surprise if you weren’t hyper focused on the situation at hand, wringing your brain in an attempt at understanding it.

The brief speech Jungkook gives is completely lost on you, though, even in that state, you don’t miss how easily he manages to captivate and rile up his audience. Charisma rolls off of him in waves, and no one seems to be immune to it — well, no one but you and your father. His eyes remain bored and he keeps on staring at the ground.

He does not look at you once.

It is not until Jungkook starts talking with people individually that he steps towards you.

“Fred Lucas asked me to relay a message to you, ma’am,” he says.

It’s, objectively, a good lie. He used to work for Fred Lucas, and you’re the only one who deals with him. From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook glancing at you, looking annoyed. You doubt he’ll look into it very much.

The word “ma’am” still feels like a slap in the face, coming from him.

You tilt your head towards a corner further away in the warehouse. There is wind blowing through the gate, and with the loud noises of the harbor, you’re hoping it will be enough to cover your voices.

“What is it?” you ask, voice quiet, when you get there. “What are you doing there?”

He clicks his tongue like he’s annoyed at your questioning.

“Don’t you think you switched sides a little too quickly?” he asks you in return. “Nothing’s done just yet, and it’s not looking good for you. Some people might think it was an inside job.”

“Then they’ll think that,” you reply without batting an eye. “The choice was between this and death. What are you doing here?”

You see disapproval flash in his eyes.

“You've only delayed things,” he hisses. “You should lie low until the storm passes. Not everyone will find you indispensable.”

You discreetly flex your hand. His chastising tone brings to the surface parts of you that should remain buried at all times.

“I know you got this opportunity handed to you on a silver platter twice now,” he keeps going, shaking his head, “but you won’t always be so lucky.”

You know this should get a rise out of you. You should get angry. You should have something to reply to his words. Instead, you just feel yourself growing emptier and emptier.

Lucky.

He built the altar on which he sacrificed you, and he’s calling you lucky for it.

He’s jealous, a distant part of you supplies. It’s probably true.

“What are you doing here?” you ask for the third time. You bite back any other question, any offer of moving him, should he need your help. You know he would find it humiliating.

You’re not sure why you feel the need to shield him from that feeling, but you still do.

“It’s an important job,” your father replies dismissively. “Might as well take the opportunity to make a good impression.”

You can’t tell if he means that he wants to preserve his life or if he wants to try to climb the ranks of the Organization. You refuse to let yourself think about it, because if it’s the second option you’ll—

You can't think about that either.

“I see,” you nod. “In that case, you know where to reach me should anything be needed.”

For a second, you consider asking him about the rest of your family.

You think better of it before you act on that. You always do.

“Lie low,” he tells you again as the two of you are parting. “It’ll be better off that way.”

It’s only when you reach Jungkook that you consider the possibility that he might have been trying to look out for you. That is a thought that you could take comfort in, and yet you can’t even do that because, no matter how much you look at it, you just cannot find yourself to believe that.

“What did he want?” Jungkook asks you in the car as you drive away from the warehouse, away from the harbor, away from your father, and back to a place where you have control.

It takes a second for things to click into place.

“An update on the Heaven’s Doors situation,” you respond, though his eyes on you feel heavy in that moment. “Or rather, a lack of update.” A vague shrug. “Fred’s usual antics.”

“Is that it?”

You look up at him, meet his gaze. He’s just staring at you and you're not— You can’t read him. You can’t let yourself think that there's something akin to concern in his eyes. Not right now.

So you just nod.

“I will make sure to let you know if there is any actual development, Mr. Jeon.”

He openly rolls his eyes and, thankfully, the moment passes.

If this keeps up, you will definitely need to find a technique to keep that heart of yours in check.

Though you don’t mind being out and about with Jungkook nearly as much as used to, and though you still regularly have to be in the field yourself, you find immense relief in knowing that you have an office to come back to. As the preparations that you’ve made for the floor you’re renting come together, it becomes more and more of a place you can work from.

Of course, that means that every now and again, you cross paths with people you would rather not see. Some mostly harmless, like Fred Lucas, who you’ve learned how to handle, others clearly trying to determine the importance of your role in the Organization. And then there's Junho, the shark hybrid who you thought was going to be your end, who gives you a bright grin that reveals all of his teeth as you walk past the front desk where he's talking with Jungkook.

There is not an ounce of kindness in it.

You walk by with a mere, polite nod towards the two of them. You’d like to think that you haven’t let anything show — you know you’ve suppressed the shiver, you're pretty sure you kept your lips tightly pressed together — but the truth is you know cracks have formed in what used to be a perfect mask. You’ve caught it a few times now, a twitch of your lips, fingers tapping on your thigh. It’s not much. Most people wouldn’t notice it or care.

Yet it worries you, bubbles in your throat sometimes. If you let yourself slip in front of the wrong people, you could reveal too much about yourself. The thought is terrifying to you; not too long ago, it would have meant certain death. The thought that things might have changed and you might not need this anymore to your survival is perhaps just as scary.

What if you crumble? What if all those things buried deep inside your soul wreck everything you've built as they come back up to the surface?

Worse, what if they don’t?

“I’m out of here,” Jungkook announces loudly, though you’re the only one with him in his office. “Are you staying caged up in here?”

You glance up at him to find him already staring at you, jacket slung over his shoulder, and you feel your breath catching in your throat. You can only pray that your poker face holds up as you do, because all of your self-control is needed not to look away immediately. Once more, while you still can, you bury everything that comes with it, and you reply with a perfectly smooth expression.

“There is much left to be done, Mr. Jeon.”

That is not untrue, but if you were honest with him or with yourself, you would admit that the main reason for your decision is that overexerting yourself and coming home to your apartment only to collapse into a dreamless sleep actually sounds like the best way of spending your time these days.

Jungkook’s lips twist in a displeased expression, but he doesn’t seem angry, just annoyed. You can’t help the curiosity that fills you as you examine him. He seems more relaxed around you than he’s ever been. There’s still tension in his whole body, but it is not vibrating with anger and distrust anymore. In his eyes, you also cannot find the hatred you used to see. There’s a lot swirling inside them, it is true, things that you think you could spend hours deciphering, but—

“Suit yourself,” Jungkook shrugs, “but you won’t be able to stay hidden in here all the time.”

You snap back into focus, in time to press your lips together and nod at him.

“If there is anything you would like me to handle outside, make sure to let me know.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, but seems to think better of it before snapping at you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, turning around and vaguely waving a hand at you, though you cannot tell for sure if it is a salute or if he is merely dismissing you.

“Certainly, Mr. Jeon.”

The glass door closes softly behind him, and your eyes go back to the spreadsheet in front of you. You’ve stared at the numbers for far too long now, but you want to ensure that they are right before forwarding them to one of your trusted accountants. You could handle it all yourself; you’re fairly good with numbers. If there is one thing you’ve learned over the years, though, it’s that you should delegate whenever possible. The hard part, of course, was finding people that you could trust.

As a result, few people in the company, outside from the bosses, are paid as well as the accountants — and are under as much surveillance.

That is how they got Capone, after all, and you have no intention of seeing Jungkook or yourself go down the same way.

Your phone dings while you’re still staring at the numbers and you check it immediately, having effectively trained yourself to do that over years of juggling the informations given by your numerous informants.

The text is brief, three words to be exact, but it makes your blood run cold.

‘All out war’.

You’re on your feet before you can process it completely. Jungkook has left less than two minutes ago, your brain supplies while you rush to the door and then through the corridors. You should still be able to get to him — but the elevators are both taken. You feel more than you notice people throwing you surprised glances. You don’t have time to think about it, nor do you have time to listen to the voice in the back of your brain that comments on the fact that you’ll need to ensure that an elevator is available at all time for the higher-ups.

You’re running down the stairs before you know it. Hector, you realize at some point, though you can’t tell when exactly, would have been faster than you, but he’s probably getting his coffee somewhere on the floor and it’s too late to go get him. On your phone, you try to get a hold of Jungkook, but he doesn't reply, likely because he’s still in the goddamn building and has no way of knowing how swiftly the situation just changed and— Fuck, you need to get to him.

Based on the text you received, you have to assume your informant texted you in the middle of the meeting. Depending on where they are in the chain of command, the decision could have been made hours, maybe a day earlier. Which would leave ample time for them to plant—

You burst through the door of the lobby, earning yourself surprised looks from the people in there — among which you don’t find Jungkook. Normally you would worry of appearances, but you don’t have time for such considerations, and so you run through the lobby, wincing when your ankle twists unpleasantly, and then, finally, through the glass windows, you see him about to get in his car. He seems to be making small talk with the driver, thank God, and then gives you just enough time to walk through the door and call out to him.

“Mr Jeon!”

He turns around to look at you, surprised, while you wince at the way your voice just cracked.

“Changed your mind?” he asks, and you think you see the hint of a smirk on his lips.

You shake your head. All you can think about is that you have to get him away from the car. You gesture at him to approach, but he either doesn’t understand or chooses to ignore it.

“Mr Jeon,” you repeat, “there is something I need you to take a look at.”

Even from where you’re standing, you know he’s rolling his eyes at you.

“Then show it to me,” he replies. “I’m not getting back in there.”

You swallow painfully, eyes going back to the car. No. You’re not getting close to that thing with Jungkook. The two of you are probably at the very top of the kill list, and even if the blast might not kill you if you’re not inside, you know that is a risk the enemy faction would be willing to take, because it is a risk you would be willing to take.

“Mr Jeon,” you say, once more. “Please.” You try to convey everything you need to say into the intonation, but even to your ears, your voice barely varies. This is not an exercise you are used to — far from it, in fact.

You think Jungkook frowns, takes one step in your direction, before stopping himself. He turns to say something at his chauffeur, which you don’t quite manage to catch. He’s not showing sign of moving, and with each second in the open with minimal protection, you feel yourself growing more desperate. This is supposedly a safe part of town — but realistically, with an open war in the Organization, there will be no safe parts of town for the next few months.

“Jungkook!” you finally hear yourself shouting, and his head immediately whips in your direction, eyes wide. This time, finally, he walks in your direction, and the relief you feel is so overwhelming that you can feel your legs grow weak under you.

“What the fuck?” he growls in a low voice when he reaches you. Normally, you’d try to figure out exactly what is going through his mind then — if he’s angry, if he’s surprised, if you’ve made a mistake — but right now, all you can do is exhale in relief.

“It’s war,” you say simply, voice low. “You need to get inside, and we need to call reinforcements for this place.”

You shouldn’t be surprised when Jungkook doesn’t budge and simply looks at you like you've just grown a second head, but it does take you aback. This kind of information would have been enough for you to formulate a dozen instructions — it was enough for you — and you curse yourself quietly for not realizing you needed to express it differently for him. Letting your emotions get the best of you like that… There was a reason why you didn't do that.

“What do you mean, it’s war? I thought you said they were lying low since you started hunting them—”

Your eyes keep darting between him and the street, trying to figure out where the threat is going to come from — because you don't doubt there is going to be a threat. Any second now.

“I was wrong,” you interrupt him. “You need to get inside, Mr. Jeon, please, until we figure out—”

“Don’t bullshit me, if it’s war I won’t be doing it from here, I’ll be—”

You tune him out when you hear a honk. A car arrived behind Jungkook’s. You see the drivers shouting at each other, before Jungkook’s driver gets in his. Quietly, you pray that you were wrong.

The car has moved less than a meter when it blows up.

Then it's chaos. People shouting and running, a burst of flames shooting up in the sky, the smell of burning gasoline.

Jungkook turns around slowly, shouts a name that you don't recognize but that you have to assume refers to the driver. He starts moving in the car's direction, but you regain enough control over your body to catch him at the last second. Your fingers wrap around his arm, and that makes him pause. He looks lost when his eyes find yours.

“Jungkook,” you say, barely more than a whisper, and he likely wouldn’t hear you if he wasn’t a hybrid, “you need to get inside.” Then your voice gets quicker as urgency replaces fear in your veins. You start saying out loud what your brain is processing in the moment, both because you need him to understand the severity of the situation and because you likely won't have time to fill him in later. “They just blew up a car in one of the richest areas of the city. Either they don't care about repercussions by the police, or they’ve already bought the police. Even if you weren’t in there,” thank God he wasn't in there, “they've sent a clear message. They won't stop at anything now. Either they will die in this fight, or—” You swallow, throat suddenly dry. “Or we will.”

Jungkook just stares at you for a few seconds longer. His jaw tightens as he clenches his teeth, and then, slowly, his face hardens. His fingers close around yours, just a second, before he takes your hand off of him.

You hadn’t noticed you were still holding him.

You do, however, notice that the very tip of his fingers linger on your skin, and the gentleness of the gesture.

You choose to make nothing of it.

Once more, he looks at the car, before he looks at you again. He doesn’t look lost this time. He looks resolute.

“He’s dead already,” he tells you. “Let’s get inside and do— whatever it is you said to do. Call— whoever you need to call.” You nod, having to rush to follow his long strides back inside the building. “Let’s show those bastards.”

As the elevator doors close on the two of you, you find yourself staring at the burning car. It is a strong blow, to be struck in front of your headquarters. But Jungkook is alive, standing next to you, and filled with such determination that you want to believe in him against all hopes. So, instead of keeping your thoughts to yourself, you nod decisively.

“Certainly, Mr. Jeon.”

standard author's note: i'm sorry it took me so long, i hope you still enjoyed seeing oc and jungkook after all this time, i hope you'd missed them a little bit and you enjoyed their dynamic, and i hope you liked the chapter :) if you did, it would mean the world to me if you would reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask, everything is welcome! i wish you all a great day and i'll see you in the next one.

lengthy author's note: sooooo, it's been a while. if you've followed my blog you know i've been struggling with various stuff — first finishing my master's thesis, and then just. life in general and writer's block in particular. on top of that, with this story there's such a slow burn that everytime i step away from it, i'm afraid i'll pick things up 'wrong'. you know, if i make them too close/if i make them a step back, if i repeat myself too much (repetition of oc's thought-process is intended but only to a certain degree), etc. i hope this stil works. i'm also... idk, i guess i'm afraid of disappointing people after all this time. it's scary to think that people have waited for so long and might go 'oh, i waited all that time for this'.

and most people have been very sweet about the time i was taking to write the chapter and i'm not saying this to be all 'woe is me' or to get sympathy!! please know you don't have to read this and feel bad for me or comfort me lol, and vice versa if you didn't like the chapter it's all good lol. it's just... that's the kind of things that can make writing harder.

thank you for reading all that, genuinely seeing the continued interest in iicngyp on my blog and continuously getting asks about it by people who were so invested in the characters played a huge part in getting me to write and finish the chapter and i'm endlessly grateful for that. hopefully i'll see you a little sooner next time, and i wish you all the best!

☆̲̲: 𝑏𝑡𝑠 (𝑅𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑚 ) 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑠

Like and Reblog

Hope you like it

jungkook x naver post - world cup opening (5)

jungkook and bam doing instagram live with uncle tae ♡ for anon ♡

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.

Would you like to learn more about crafting realistic character who lead the plot FOR you? 🤯

You might want to give my 6-month group coaching program a go! It's designed specifically to help overcome this issue and teach you how to plot ANY story with ease. It uses a mix of writing their classes, with group coaching sessions to work specifically on YOUR project.

The first group kicks off Feb 11th, so grab your spot now!

Find out more through [the link here] or below!

https://www.novlr.org/the-complete-novel-coach

bem, você poderia fazer algumas locks do bangtan por favor? desde já agradeço 🌷

     ✩      𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒐 ( 𝒃𝒕𝒔 ) 𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒏      !!⠀   

There's a scene - and I've seen the footage out there, but they cut the scene - in the first...film where, when our characters are kidnapped, right before we get thrown on the ornithopter...Paul and Jessica. Then there's a scene where Jessica is lying with her arms bound and her legs. And she's lying on this huge open space, it's a carpet, and you see it from a bird perspective, I think. In this tiny little fetal position, right? Now what the scene is that they cut is, all of a sudden, you come down to her face, and this thing in the background is just lowering himself, on top of her, and rolls his body on her. And you see that it is Vladimir Harkonnen. And he's pushing air out of her, so she can't breathe. And literally her eyes are nearly popping, and he whispers something in her ear. And it was cut.

And my sadness is the fact that when you find out [Jessica is Baron Harkonnen's daughter], it becomes a really odd dynamic, that scene, because it's oddly sensual and sexual and weird. And also it left us wondering what this relationship was, and I wonder if that's why he cut it. Because it did link us. That private moment really put us in a room by ourselves. That's one of my favorite scenes, which I was sad, but it always happens, right? - Rebecca Ferguson on ReelBlend podcast

Rebecca Ferguson and director Denis Villeneuve on set of Dune (2021) photographed by Chiablella James | Dune: Part One : The Photography