Park Minhee

Although you were glad that he didn’t. You were more than happy that he didn’t witness tears rolling down your face, gathering below your chin and dropping down at the immaculate fabric of your wedding gown. 

Do tears leave stains? You hoped that was not the case. 

It’s not that you pictured a fairytale married life for you. You know arranged marriages come with more cons than pros. You knew you would have to pay the price.. but at the same time you had no choice. You were even more reluctant to do anything because it was him. 

It was and is Min Yoongi, who you fell in love with over the course of charity galas, executive meetings, quarterly gatherings, parties and so on. And he never once looked in your direction. But then again, there are very few people Yoongi really looked at. 

It was foolish for you to expect a man of his stature would not have someone to love, to be loved by. And it was even more foolish for you to think, you can be his wife, a real one.. and lead a life with him. 

However, now you know it’s impossible. And the realization made you feel helpless, caged and broken. 

“I won’t expect anything, I promise, but in return… Can we at least be friends? It will make things easy for both of us.” you’d uttered upon managing your voice and emotions. 

Only then he looked at you, like really looking at you with a small smile playing on his lips, he’d said “sure.”  

That was the moment you realized you had a girl crush. And it was the woman who managed to make Yoongi, your husband, fall in love. 

“I got it real bad.. Want everything she has That smile and that midnight laugh.. She's giving you now.” 

You thought, you would be angry. You thought every possible darkness would cover your senses, when you’d meet her for the first time. 

But wrong… you were. 

You had so many prejudices about this woman and you hated her with every drop of blood your body owns but all of it evaporated in thin air when she smiled at you standing right at your and yoongi’s door. 

She is beautiful, she is kind, she is loveable… and maybe everything else you can’t ever be. 

“Thank you so much, Y/N. I never thought I was going to see Yoongi ever again.” she’d murmured as she stood close to you in the kitchen, preparing dinner for you three. 

You had stared into her eyes then.. Trying to find mockery and a hint of brazen victory telling you, “you’re only his paper wife. I own his heart.” 

But again.. Again you were disappointed. 

In her eyes, there was no mockery, no pretense, no dishonesty.. Rather only understanding and kindness. Only then you understood why Yoongi loves her so much. 

Why will it never be you and always be her.  

That night as you stood at the balcony, enjoying the stinging sensation cold wind brought to you, you heard them laughing.

It was the first time you heard Min Yoongi laughing. Even though faint and muffled, you could still sense his happiness through the sound. 

Min Yoongi was finally happy... for the first time since the wedding ceremony... and you were not the reason. 

All of a sudden, you were jealous again, even though you were not sure if you had the right or not. 

“I want to taste her lips… Yeah, 'cause they taste like you I want to drown myself… In a bottle of her perfume”

You didn’t know what you were thinking when you invited her to your and Yoongi’s honeymoon. 

Both of your and his parents have been pestering you to set out for the trip. You have been using excessive workload as the excuse and you assumed Yoongi to do the same.

But a week ago, everything went south when Yoongi had a fight with his father. As a result, flights were booked, accommodations were chosen and you two were notified only two days prior. 

That night, Yoongi didn’t come back home. And when he did, he didn’t speak a single word to you. 

The visible frown on his forehead and the cold aura that oozed from him, made you want to make him smile, made you invite his lover to the trip secretly.  

She was already there when you two reached and you will never forget Yoongi’s reaction when he realized what was happening. 

The grumpy cold Yoongi broke into gummy smiles and giggles as soon as he saw her. They kissed right in front of your eyes and you silently cried. 

Oh how you wish, you could taste him too. How you wish, he would hold you like that, caress you like that. 

How you wish… he would love you like that. 

“I want her long blond hair… I want her magic touch Yeah, 'cause maybe then… You'd want me just as much”

 “Babe, could you please turn your head a little? Yes.. yes just like that.” 

You watched the man as he clicked photos after photos of the woman he loves, seemingly trying to document her beauty for a long long time.  

You watched her as her long blond hair flowed like a waterfall down her shoulder, wind ruffling it gently making her look even more beautiful. 

“Let’s take a selfie, will you?” she shouted at him and he chuckled. 

He buried his head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, he said, “you smell so nice.”

You wondered, what she smelled like, what perfume did she use to make Yoongi look this satisfied. You even considered asking her, purchasing a bottle and drowning yourself in one of those if that means Yoongi would love to smell you too, he would curl himself around you late at night. If that means Yoongi would want you, just as much. 

“I don't get no sleep… I don't get no peace Thinking about her.. Under your bed sheets”

“Where are you going?” confusion dripped through Yoongi’s voice. You stopped at your tracks and turned to face him. 

“I will sleep in the other room. You two should have your space. I will send her in as soon as I am there.” you smiled at him, even though your heart bleed invisibly inside your chest at the thought of how they would spend the night together. 

“No, Y/N. We will adjust. You sleep here in the suite.” Yoongi commented, as firm as a verdict, as he stepped towards where you stood. 

“But Yoongi, I am alone, what would I do with all this space?” you sighed. You definitely didn’t want to be left alone at the honeymoon suite, decorated for the newlyweds. You hate it. Totally loathe the decorations. Those giant red hearts had been mocking you since the moment you stepped there. You might tear those to pieces if you were left there alone, raising endless questions regarding such an act. 

“You have done enough. You have done much more than you needed to and I feel like I’m taking advantage of your kindness. So, please… stay here. Enjoy the stay. We will manage.” giving you one of his tight lipped smiles, Yoongi slipped out of the room to spend the night with his lover. 

That night when you slid inside the covers, which smelled awfully like him because he took a nap earlier in the evening, you started breaking down. 

Your hopes, your dreams, and your heart all started crumbling right before your eyes. You held the duvet tightly around yourself and pretended it was yoongi wrapped around you, it was Yoongi, whispering sweet things in your ear, it was Yoongi, telling you that he loved you. 

Somewhere you knew, Yoongi is actually doing all these things in real-time but.. Not to you.. Not for you. 

You closed your eyes, tears streamed down your cheeks and wetted the pillow. You imagined your life as her… as your girl crush… as the woman your husband, Min Yoongi, loves. 

“I've got a girl crush… Hate to admit it but I’ve got a heart rush… It ain’t slowin' down”

As you wave goodbye to the last lovely couple dining at your restaurant tonight, you express how thrilled you are of their return. 

You stand in front of your father’s little restaurant and watch the lovebirds bundle up as they make their way to their vehicle, embracing each other and protecting themselves from the same frigid temperatures that threatened to ruin their Valentine’s day plans.

It’s nights like these that make the sacrifice of putting your nursing career on hold well worth it. This neighborhood doesn’t have a lot to offer as far as entertainment goes, so keeping this place in business is your top priority. This is your home, and the people you love put their all into this establishment. 

You’ll make sure it thrives and continues to be a source of comfort to the community.

You’re excited to tell your father about tonight’s turn out. You know he will be pleased. It’s been busy all day with dine-ins and take outs; everyone looking for the perfect date night meal. 

“The food is made with love,” is what your dad always says.

He always looks forward to this time of year, and he’s always talked about seeing you sitting in one of his booths with a special someone of your own some day. 

You only nod when he brings up your dating life; sometimes his love for you blinds him from reality. You’ve never brought anyone home, or ever mentioned being involved with someone to him. Even if you came out and said it, he’d never believe you’re the problem.

A chilly breeze in the mid-February air snaps you out of your thoughts—so as soon as the couple’s sedan departs from the parking lot—you slip back inside. 

The warmth instantly envelopes your trembling figure, and draws a small exhale from your lips.

Looking at your watch, you notice that it’s almost midnight. You switch the sign from open to close, but don’t bother locking the door because there’s one more visitor that should be arriving shortly.

You keep that in mind as you begin to clean the front of the house. 

One by one, your father’s employees complete their duties in a haste, then clock out so they can go home to whoever is waiting for them. Their eagerness only brings a smile to your face.

As you’re sanitizing a table, you catch a glimpse of one of the waitresses dashing towards the door.

“Well, see you tomorrow, Kaci!”

She halts, then turns around to say her goodbyes—and to gossip. 

“Night, boss lady,” she chirps.

Why she calls you “boss lady” is a mystery to you; your dad only left you in charge, but you’re just a manager. You still get on the floor and serve tables like everyone else.

You’re curious about the bit of mischief hidden in her tone. It’s not long before she reveals her true intentions.

“Did he stop by yet?”

And of course…she’s talking about Yoongi.

Usually, someone stops by on his behalf to collect the rent. His family allows your father and a few others to occupy the buildings on this lot for business. Payment is always to be paid in cash, so you make sure you visit the bank the morning of collections. 

Your family has had a close relationship with the Mins for years, so they’ve been working with you while your father recovers.

You met Yoongi right in this restaurant at the young age of four, and from there, your friendship blossomed. You were inseparable throughout grade school, but senior year is when everything shifted.

It had to be the first time you both realized that you were on different paths after graduation. While you prepped for college, he was being introduced to the hustle that built his family’s empire.

If that didn’t tear a rift in your relationship, the underlying tension and unspoken feelings surely did. People used to always say at least one of you would eventually want something different, and you used to always laugh at them…until it became a fact.

You’ve always wondered if he ever felt the same as you did—or if he ever thought about exploring something more.

Unfortunately, you’ll never know what he was feeling. After graduation, he shut you out and never looked back. That was so long ago, though. You’ve grown, and the pain of losing someone you cared about eventually went away.

…So you thought.

Being home again brings back so many memories and forgotten feelings. Things you wish you still had, and things you wish you could have had. After experiencing so much throughout college, and learning more about yourself, you’d kill to go back in time so you can handle things differently. 

You can’t help but think your friendship was torn apart by nothing more than a curious mind and raging hormones.

Yoongi’s so different now, though. However, you still see glimpses of the boy who would sneak into your window just to watch reruns of 90s cartoons with you. You smile just thinking about all the fun times you’ve shared, and all the trouble you got into.

“Look at you getting wet just thinking about him! I knew it. You’re whipped!”

“Can you keep your damn voice down,” you hiss. “Last thing I need is gossip right now.”

You’re so fed up with her teasing. If you two hadn’t just clicked when you took over the restaurant, you’d probably just kick her ass out in the cold.

“And, no. He has not. So, you can leave now, ma’am.”

“Oh, for sure,” she sighs dramatically. “Hell only knows what you two do when you are alone.”

Your jaw drops. 

Sometimes this bond you share is a blessing; but other times, it’s a curse.

Kaci’s a sweetheart, but her mouth… Well, let’s just say these comments are normal for her. 

And just like your father, she loves to play Cupid. No wonder he hired her.

“Just get your ass out of here.”

You can barely keep your laugh from bursting through your lips as you send a rag flying towards her. She dodges it, then proceeds to give you a middle finger. She has another shady comment ready to roll off the tip of her tongue, but then she glances out of the glass door and smirks instead. 

You scoff. “Bitch, what is it now?”

Kaci then shakes her head. 

“Nothing, babe. I’m out,” she winks. Kaci then points towards the parking lot and whispers, “Daddy’s here.”

“Huh? What are you talking about—”

Crawling into one of the booths, you partially open the blinds with your fingers and peek out of the window.

About seven sets of headlights stare back at you, all belonging to vehicles that are as dark as the midnight hour. A BMW sits in the center, blacked out with tinted windows and black custom rims. However, you don’t need a look inside to know who it is. No one else would pull up like they own the lot.

All the businesses are closed, which means these aren’t customers. It’s the boss.

Your heart rate builds up when the door opens and his sneakers touch the concrete. He stands there for a moment fixing his jacket and discreetly observing his surroundings. 

Your eyes follow his movements. You can only hear the bass from his music and the noises coming from your throat as you try to gulp down the saliva building up in your mouth. 

All you needed to see was the top of his head to confirm what you already knew. 

Yoongi’s here, and he’s the one coming to collect payment tonight.

You don’t know why your heart is about to pound out of your chest like you’re hexed by some teenage crush. Maybe you are still hung up on him a little bit. You can’t deny how attractive he still is. He definitely wears age well.

The dark hair suits him perfectly. You can remember the horror stories about the color experiments gone wrong when you were teenagers. It’s a surprise that it’s still luscious and healthy as it is.

However, that isn’t the only thing that has changed in his appearance.

They’re hard to spot under his jacket, but his torso, back, and arms are covered in tattoos. You only know about this because another waitress working here loves to share the story of how she was on her knees in a bathroom giving a shirtless Yoongi a blowjob. 

You would never admit jealousy, but damn; that lucky bitch.

Yoongi starts to make his way across the parking lot, pushing back his hair with his ringed-fingers to grant better vision out of his peripherals. You know he’s always watching his back; he can never be too careful when he’s making moves.

His haircut allows you to get a glimpse of the ink crawling up his neck, disappearing behind his ear. His earring dangles in the wind as he strides in your direction.

Each step is confident and dominant;  his aura dark and mysterious. 

A man who is about his business, it’s no shock that heads turn when he steps into the room. He’s reserved, but not afraid to enforce his authority when he deems necessary. You heard stories, and crossing Yoongi is considered a death wish. 

He’s like the hot badass described in movies or books, but he actually is that guy. Handsome, street-wise, tattoos and scars; paired with money, jewelry, and you’d be stupid to think he isn’t packing. 

You can smell the power and Dior emitting from his body all the way from where you are. 

Each step he takes towards the entrance of the restaurant gives you a better view without being noticed. It’s a sin how good he looks and he’s just wearing a simple outfit with some sneakers. You have no business feeling these kinds of things, but it’s impossible to not.

“Can he just bend us over already?”

You hear Kaci whisper the same words you were just thinking. But she can’t know that, so you swat her again for good measure.

“Fine…I’m leaving,” she whines, walking to the door.

You back out of the booth and move over to the host stand so you can roll silverware and act like you weren’t watching him.

Kaci opens the door just as he’s about to reach for the handle, and of course, she gives him a warm welcome.

“Hi, Yoongi,” she beams. You roll your eyes the second you hear that annoying high-pitched voice she uses when she’s being coy.

“Hey, can you hang back for a bit? It won’t be long.”

“Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”

The look he gives her sends your radar up, so you set down the utensils in your hand and join them in the lobby.

“Hey,” you greet him when he notices you. “What’s going on?”

Yoongi sighs before he answers, shaking his head as he gathers his words.

“You know the alterations shop over there?” 

His head nods in the direction of the Leonard’s shop a few stores down. Both of you nod because they take lunch breaks here everyday.

“Somebody hit them up about an hour ago. Left their daughter in bad shape before they stripped the registers,” he informs.

“Are you serious? That’s awful.”

“Yeah, they’re good people. Who would do something that disgusting?” Kaci asks.

Yoongi only shrugs. “Don’t know, but as soon as I find out…”

He doesn’t even need to continue. It’ll be bad; probably worse than you can imagine. One thing the Min’s don’t tolerate is disrespect. You mess with one of their people, you get handled. In this case, you can’t even feel bad for the bastard. That family doesn’t bother anyone. It’s a shame they were targeted.

“Anyway, I don’t want either of you lingering around here at night anymore. Stick together during opening and closing until we catch this motherfucker understand?”

“Yeah, got it,” you reply, and Kaci also agrees.

“Sure, not a problem.”

With everyone on the same page, you make a note in your mind to update the security system in the restaurant and think of some safety tips for employees. No one can ever be too careful, especially after what just occurred so close to home.

“And Kaci?” he calls, just as she’s getting ready to depart. 

“Yeah?”

“Don’t walk home. Your pepper spray is expired. Ask one of the guys to drive you.”

“Is Hoseok out there?” 

You and Yoongi share a look. He’s probably wondering what it’s about, but then again, who doesn’t know they’re fucking?

“Yeah…he is—”

“Kay, bye!”

Before the door slams in your face, you call out to her. 

“Text me when you’re home!... Or when you’re able to use your hands.”

Yoongi chuckles as the both of you watch her dash across the lot. You aren’t sure how she’s able to spot the right SUV, but she does within seconds.

“This has been going on for a while, huh?” Yoongi inquires.

“Mhm. Fight, fuck, repeat.”

After a moment goes by, you realize you forgot to bring the money you owe Yoongi. You snap your fingers when you remember why he’s there in the first place.

“Oh, yeah. Come on, it’s back here,” you tell him.

Yoongi follows you toward the back of the restaurant until you reach the small manager’s office tucked in a corner of the kitchen. While you dig in your apron for the key, Yoongi checks in with you to see how everything’s going.

“How’s your dad?”

You pause to look at him and answer with a proud smile. Your father’s been working really hard on his road to recovery; it’s nice to talk about his accomplishments without someone looking at you with pity, which Yoongi never does.

“He’s been doing better. Lots of physical therapy, but he walked on his own yesterday.”

With a nod, Yoongi’s expression softens.  “That’s the shit I like to hear.”

“Me too.”

Once you find the keys, you unlock the door and the both of you step inside the dark room.

“Thanks,” you whisper when he flips the lightswitch for you. 

You can feel him watching you as you walk around the desk, and when you squat down to open the safe underneath, you hear his footsteps approaching. 

You start entering the combination while he whistles and looks around your office. 

You’re curious about what he’s looking at, but right now you can't even take a peek without him noticing. Instead, you focus on gathering the cash you owe him for last month and this month while he’s busy snooping around.

After a while, you figure he’s found something interesting because the room becomes quiet. You grab the stack you set aside and close the safe, making sure it’s locked before you do anything else.

“So how was your day?”

Yoongi’s deep voice tears a giant rift in the silence, startling you and causing you to bump your head on the edge of the desk. Thankfully, his back is turned and he didn’t hear the small thud because you’d be beyond embarrassed.

“It was okay,” you reply as you regain your footing. 

Yoongi turns in your direction when he hears your words become clearer, indicating you’re no longer digging around in the safe. He meets you halfway and you extend your hand with the stack of money resting between your fingers. 

“This is all of it.”

Yoongi looks at the stack before he responds. Most of the time, it’s so hard to know what he’s thinking because his expression is always so stoic.

“Just okay?” he quizzes. 

“Yeah, pretty much. It was busy so I was stuck in autopilot most of the day.”

He still hasn’t made a move to accept the money. You feel kind of awkward being so close to him as is, and his lack of response makes you feel even more anxious. 

Finally, he speaks. “Do you even have this to give me?”

“Yeah, we’re good. Please, take it.”

You gesture for him to take the money, and he reaches for it, making you believe he’s going to grab it.

“It’s all here. If you want me to count it, I—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.

“What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said,” he shrugs.

“Yoongi, no. We haven’t paid in a month. My dad would already be mad at me for being behind.”

“Does he have to know?” The look Yoongi gives you reminds you of all the times he’s talked you into doing something wild. He’d always take the blame if you got caught, but the thrill always made getting grounded irrelevant to you. “Keep it. We’re good until he gets back, okay?”

“Yoongi, I can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I won’t,” you declare confidently.

“So you’re arguing with me?”

Your eyes widen, realizing that he wasn’t giving you an option.

“I-I’m sorry. I was just—”

“Don’t worry about it, alright? Just keep doing what you’re doing. I only hear good things about this place,” he concludes.

“Okay, ok. Thanks, Yoongi.”

“Don’t mention it.”

As you’re returning the money to the safe, Yoongi brings something to your attention.

“I don’t see your car outside.”

“Ah, shit. It needed to be serviced. I was supposed to pick it up on my lunch, but I forgot.”

After visiting the bank this morning, you dropped your vehicle off at the dealership for maintenance, but the breakfast rush swarmed in as soon as you arrived at work. By the time you thought about picking it up, it was well after business hours.

“Um, do you mind—”

“Wanna ride?” Yoongi offers.

“Please.” Relieved, you exhale a needed sigh. “If it’s not an inconvenience.”

“Not at all, love.”

You quickly grab your purse and switch off the light in your office, ignoring that feeling you got from the little pet name. 

Yoongi leads the way this time. As you’re following him through the restaurant, you’re sure to double check everything before you leave. Even Yoongi turns to ask you if you’ve secured everything.

“Good?”

“Yeah, everything’s turned off and we’re locked up tight.”

“Cool.”

Walking into the dining area, you give everything a quick once-over before following Yoongi to the exit. Everything looks tidy and neat how you like it so you step out into the cold night with your chauffeur. 

He waits with you while you lock the front doors, looking around for any curious eyes. After you’ve finished turning the lock and key, you give the handle a tug to make sure it doesn’t open.

Growing up in this neighborhood will teach you a thing or two about being cautious and aware of your surroundings.

“It’s freezing tonight,” you comment.

Sometimes you like to make small talk with Yoongi, see where the conversation goes. Depending on the mood he’s in, he’ll either have one sentence responses or he’ll engage in light conversation.

You don’t mention the past much. It seems like pretending it never happened is easier for both of you. However, sometimes you have an impulse to bring up the subject, or at least try to mend what’s broken. 

If that’s possible.

“Cold? This is perfect weather.”

You roll your eyes. He’s definitely fucking with you.

“Oh, whatever. You know it’s freezing out here.”

You don’t care how ridiculous you look speeding towards his car. You’re shivering and Yoongi takes forever to unlock the door.

You shuffle from foot to foot, wiggling to build up some body heat. You can hear the fabric of your jeans rubbing together due to the friction.

“You know it’s already unlocked, right?”

Oh.

You climb inside and relief washes over you. The heat is blowing warm and strong, making the leather seats even more comfortable. The seat warmers keep your butt cozy, and the vents are aiming towards your upper body. It’s perfect; you could fall asleep right here.

When Yoongi gets in the driver seat, your head lolls in his direction.

“Thank you.”

“For?” he asks.

“Your car feels like heaven right now.”

Yoongi scoffs softly.

“It isn’t always this warm. Trust me,” he replies.

“Well regardless, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Not a problem, love.”

Fuck.

Yoongi’s engine revs as he pulls out of the parking lot. A thought comes into your mind as the vibrations travel up your body.

“Does it ever make your balls tingle?”

He coughs, clearing his throat while checking to see if he heard right.

“Uh, what?”

“The car,” you elaborate. “When you’re driving it…You don’t feel anything?”

Honestly, you’re just chatting to keep yourself from falling asleep. You don’t even expect him to answer as you stare out of the window, watching the SUVs fade in the distance.

“I guess I never really thought about it,” he responds.

You nod, vibing to the music. He’s turned the volume down since you’ve joined him, so you can actually hear each other speak.

“Hm. Sure does make your pussy tingle.”

You don’t think he heard that part. It was barely a whisper. If he did, he chose to ignore it.

“You alright?”

“Yup,” you answer. “Just ready to unwind.”

“Any plans tonight?”

You sit up in your seat, and turn to him.

“You bet.”

Yoongi laughs. “Oh, yeah?”

“I have a date with my bed, and I’m gonna let my blanket top me.”

“Gotcha. So you’re locked down, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, it sure sounds like it. I never see you having any fun.”

You give him a look. 

“Well, look who’s talking. Besides, you know I’m dealing with a lot right now.”

“Fair enough, but you’re still allowed to do something for yourself for a change. Some of us don’t have that privilege,” he replies.

“I think everyone has the privilege to do something for themselves. You just have to be selfish enough to go for it, I guess.”

“That is true.”

Yoongi then turns the music up a few notches. You already know what that means. He’s over conversation and wants to get lost in his thoughts. 

As you cruise through the streets, people may look on the surface and think this is some young bachelor taking his car for a late night drive—maybe heading to one of the city’s hot spots. 

But Yoongi is all work, and no play. If it’s not about moving product, it’s placed on the backburner.

You can relate, but tonight you’re switching it up. Self care is calling your name and you aren’t hanging up this time.

“What happened to the garden?”

You’re pulled from your thoughts by Yoongi’s voice. 

As he pulls up to the curve in front of your childhood home, he can’t stop himself from teasing you about your dying plants. You really tried your best with them, but unfortunately, you weren’t gifted with nurturing hands.

“You’re not funny,” you mutter, acting ignorant.

You know you’ve destroyed your dad’s flower bed, but he doesn’t have to make fun of you.

“I’m just saying, shouldn't you cover them?”

“I forgot!”

“You always do,” he mumbles.

You giggle as you’re opening the door; finally having a carefree conversation with your old friend again feels nice. As soon as you step out into the elements again, the winter air nips at your cheeks and you know you’ll be trembling by the time you get to your doorstep.

“Well, thanks for the ride.”

Yoongi just nods and tells you that he’d do it anytime you needed him to.

As you stand outside of the car, you start to get that feeling in your gut. That urge you know you shouldn’t have, but the temptation is stronger than ever.

Yoongi tilts his head, wondering why you’re standing in the cold. You’re frozen, silently debating on what you should do.

Ultimately, you go for it, knowing the risk you’re taking without being prepared for the aftermath. 

You’re even sure why you’re asking, or where you expect things to go. But tonight made you realize something. You miss having a best friend. 

Your best friend.

“Hey, it's late. You wanna come inside?... If you don’t have any plans.”

Regret washes over you as soon as the words leave your mouth. You weren’t ready, neither was he. You curse yourself for rushing it. The silence goes on for ages, but you’re so numb, the cold doesn’t faze you.

Finally, he gives you an answer. “You know I can’t do that.”

Well, now you know you’re the only one still holding on. By can’t, he means he won’t. 

Nodding, you lie and pretend that you understand where he’s coming from. “Yeah, I get it. Sorry about that.”

You were sure he’d be more open now that time has passed. However, you’re still stuck where you left off. He still won’t hear you out.

“There’s no need,” he assures. 

Still, you feel guilty. Selfish.

Foolish.

“Well look, I'll see you around, yeah?” He checks his phone and tosses it on the passenger seat. "I have to go deal with something."

“Okay, thanks again for the ride. Stay safe.”

You try not to look disappointed, but it’s probably no good. You’re sure he hears it in your voice. Or maybe you sound more tired than anything. You are exhausted. Maybe it’s your restless mind that's causing you to get ahead of yourself and open old wounds. It’s best you go inside before you can dig yourself a bigger hole. 

“You'll call me if you need me, right?”

If you need him… 

You always need him. He’s your rock. Well, probably not anymore. How do you learn to forget someone who’s always been there for you?

You swallow the bitterness coating your tongue before you reply. You’ll get over it. You always do. 

Just not right now.

“Yeah, I’ve tried that already. Goodnight, Yoongi.”

You shut his car door and retreat to the safety of your home. You’re unsure if he says it back or not. You walk away before he can respond. 

Everything in your sight becomes blurry as your vision is blocked by a wave of pending tears. You urgently open your front door in case he’s following you. 

A part of you wishes that he did. 

But the longer you stand there, back pressed against your front door, secluded from the same world you’ve just finished servicing—you realize that the chances of that happening are too slim to hold onto. 

Minutes go by, and you start calming down. You find your strength again, and you realize that your vulnerability made you panic. You got too comfortable, and that’s your fault. 

Tonight will just be another solo night; nothing you aren’t used to. 

You wipe your face and rid yourself of all the negative energy. Tomorrow you’ll be fine and the blow of rejection will start to fade away. Shaking your head, you clear your mind and start taking off your clothes.

You put it in your mind that you won’t hold this against Yoongi, and whenever he’s ready to talk—if ever—you’ll tell your side of the story if he wants to hear it.

Until then, you’ll just focus on you because he was right about one thing.

You should treat yourself; you deserve it.

“Get your sorry ass up.”

Yoongi stares at his hand as he walks away from the battered man lying on the ground. His knuckles are bruised and covered in the thief’s blood. The sight would bring shame to his father. He shouldn’t be out here behaving like a street thug when he’s got power moves to make.

But when he found out there was danger lurking so close to you, he had to deliver the message himself. He’s sure it was heard loud and clear.

Possibilities played through his mind with every blow that rained down on the guy. What if it was your father’s restaurant that had been hit up? What if you had been inside?

He’s furious, enraged; but mostly at himself for how he keeps letting you down. You wanted to forgive him tonight, put everything that happened behind you and maybe try again. But what did he do?

He ruined it.

He always figured that he would, but it’s what you needed to hear. He’s not a good guy or some bad boy you can turn good. Yoongi’s in this too deep to be pulled out. There’s no way he could ever look your father in the eye and tell him that he’s put your life in danger. 

That’s why he refuses to address those feelings he has for you. He’d either end up breaking your heart, or getting you into a nasty situation.

If the wrong person were to know that he has a thing for you, you’d become a weapon for an opp to use against him. Yoongi’s respected by many, but there are some who want everything he has; you’d be added to the top of that list if they knew he’d died for you. 

He can’t lose what his family’s worked hard for, but he can’t lose you either. 

There’s only two options if that line’s ever crossed. Either you’re with him, and you’ll have to step into his world; or you’re not; and the streets deem you fair game. 

The latter infuriates him. He’d kill anyone who would ever think of laying a finger on you. That’s why he has to make examples out of motherfuckers like the one behind him.

“You need to find you something safe to do, my friend.”

Yoongi turns around just as the man rises to his feet, staggering and weak from the beating he’s received. One of his arms cradles his torso while the other wipes blood from his lips. He’d receive pity from anyone without the context, but if they knew what he did to that seamstress—they’d be wondering why he’s still alive.

This is far less than what this scum deserves. His apologies fall on deaf ears. Yoongi’s men don’t give a shit about his apology, and neither does he.

“I’m so sorry. I…I didn’t know this was your block too. I was just—”

Yoongi pulls out his glock and fires a shot near the guy’s foot, barely missing him. He doesn’t recall asking him to speak.

“You better assume every block is mine, motherfucker. I own this fucking city. Have you forgotten?”

“I—”

Another shot nearly blows his head off because once again, Yoongi never asked him to talk.

“Who told you to open your mouth?...” he seethes. “Speak again and I won’t miss.”

The man nods, lifting his shaky hands as a surrender. 

Yoongi’s jaw clenches as he contemplates his next move. A few minutes ago, he was set on ending him right in this spot, but after thinking about you he’s calmed down a lot. 

That’s the only reason this man’s life will be spared. His mind is somewhere else now; all he can think about is his own mistakes. This guy’s learned his lesson; no need to waste anymore of his time here.

“Look, don’t ever put me in this situation again. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Sir. I won’t. I promise.”

Yoongi knocks the guy out cold with his gun. He looks over at the officer who was escorting the guy to jail and gives him a nod, giving him the clear to take him in. 

“This was a citizen’s arrest,” he insists, handing the cop a wad of cash.

“You got that.”

He dismisses his men, and goes to have a cigarette while he thinks.

After the criminal is placed in the back of the squad car, the cop rejoins Yoongi as he sits on the hood of his vehicle, having a smoke before he goes on with his night.

“Never thought I’d see you get dirty, especially tonight.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Yeah, me either.”

Yoongi looks at his personal phone, looking to see if you’ve texted him, or called. He doesn’t know why he’s checking. He shouldn’t expect you to reach out after how he left you tonight. It’d be a miracle if you ever wanted to see him again.

“It’s not too late, you know.”

“The fuck are you talking about, Shark?”

Shark is one of his longtime friends. He comes from a long line of crooked cops. 

He’s been present through the ups and downs of his friendship with you. Shark’s always been rooting on your side, always telling him to reach out when you left for college.

Yoongi has never taken his advice, though.

“I’m just saying. Maybe you should just call her,” he explains.

“Who?”

“You want me to say her name out here?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

Both of them share a laugh at Yoongi’s reaction, but then silence falls over the night. 

Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, Yoongi’s hands are beginning to throb with pain. He tries focusing on something other than that awful feeling, but he can only think about you.

Why couldn’t he just hear you out? That would have been fair. He’s regretting more and more as time goes by, wondering if the opportunity has slipped away.

He notices the way you look at him, the way you perk up when you see him. He knows there are a lot of unspoken words because honestly, he’s always had deeper feelings for you. It was way before you realized you like him as well. He bottled that shit up throughout high school, and when he had the chance to tell you how he felt, he fumbled.

You even gave him a second chance to come clean, and he still couldn’t get it together.

“Seriously, what happened tonight? I see it all over your face.”

Yoongi sighs. “I took her home, and she invited me inside.”

“And you said no? Dude, no way.”

Yoongi looks over and finds his friend’s face stuck in a grimace. He feels shame creeping up his neck, so he quickly shifts his focus somewhere else. 

“What was I supposed to say? You know I can’t let anyone see me walking in her place,” he argues.

“You could have invited her to yours, explained things a bit more. I’m sure she’s capable of making decisions for herself.”

Yoongi’s at a crossroads, but every way he turns leaves him with doubt. It’s like he’s damn regardless. 

“What if it doesn’t change her mind? What should I tell her dad, huh?” Yoongi rants. “He asked me to keep her safe, man.”

“And what do you think he meant by that?”

Shark looks at his watch and turns to Yoongi as he prepares to leave. 

“Look, my shift ends soon, so I gotta go. But I think you know as well as I do that you have the old man’s blessings. Just stop overthinking it. You’ll screw yourself.”

With that, Shark walks to his vehicle, and puts it in drive.Before he pulls from underneath the overpass, he rolls his window down and yells out.

“It’ll be alright, brother. Trust me!”

When Shark leaves, he switches cars with his right hand, not wanting to double back to your part of town in the same ride. As he starts driving away from the secluded area, he thinks back on how tonight has gone so far. That’s when something you said hits him…and it hits him hard.

“You said you needed me,” he whispers.

All day you’ve been surrounded by people, loving each other; only to go home to an empty house. You just wanted some company, a distraction. You wanted a friend.

It’s then he realizes that he’s hurt your feelings more than a little. You weren’t hung up on a crush you had over five years ago. He’s so stupid. How did his brain not perceive what you said as an invitation to hang out?

Just like you used to.

Yoongi does a U-turn and heads straight for your house. He has no idea what you’ll say to him, or if you’ll speak to him at all. But he needs you to know one thing; he gets it now. And he won’t ever let you down again.

No matter how many times you watch it, the horror classic Thirteen Ghosts never gets old. Your dad laughs whenever you call it your comfort flick, but he’s also not a horror fan so he just wouldn’t understand. 

That bath worked more magic than you could ever imagine. It’s super late, and you should be in bed, but you’ve been thinking about the bottle of wine you bought the other day since earlier.

You aren’t really a drinker, but the bottle was cute. You figured tonight would be the perfect chance to eat some snacks, watch a movie, and give it a try. But as soon as the glass touches your lips, your doorbell rings. 

You’re not expecting anyone this late. When you don’t answer, they pound on the door, startling you. Wine spills all over your hands. Quickly, you use your shirt to dry them off before making a bigger mess. You drink what’s left in the glass in one gulp before checking your Ring camera, letting out a gasp when you discover who’s standing at your doorstep.

“Yoongi?” you whisper.

Placing your phone and empty glass on the coffee table, you go to see what he wants. If you’re honest, you’re a bit worried. Did someone break into the restaurant? 

Your dad would be devastated. 

Without a second thought, you open the door, and interrogate Yoongi before he can even open his mouth.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen to my dad’s—”

“Oh, fuck. No! No, that’s not why I’m here,” he interrupts. 

You breathe a sigh of relief, clutching your chest as the panic slowly leaves your body. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay. What’s up? Are you okay?”

Now that you’re not shaken with worry, you notice how disheveled he looks. His hair is messy; his expression seems anxious, his knuckles bruised.

“Were you fighting?” you quiz.

“Huh?” Yoongi looks confused but then suddenly seems to remember his injury. “Oh, this is nothing. I’m good. I just came to uhh… To see you.”

Your eyebrow raises curiously. “To see me?”

“Yeah,” he confirms. 

“Okay, well… that’s nice of you, but I was planning on going to bed in a bit. I have to get up early.”

You aren’t sure why he’s acting weird. Is he in trouble? Surely, he’d tell you if he was. If so, why would he come here?

“Um, okay. Sorry,” he answers.

You tell him goodnight and attempt to shut the door, but Yoongi lodges his arm into the opening.

“What are you doing—”

“I’m listening.”

“What?”

You open the door once again, fully believing this man has lost his mind. It’s freezing out there, and he’s just standing there babbling.

“I said I’m listening,” he repeats. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what, Yoongi?”

You’ve never been more confused. First, he drops you off and hauls ass across town. Now he’s pacing at your doorstep, fumbling all over his words. Something’s going on.

“You wanted to talk, but I ghosted you, remember?”

Oh. So he remembers that.

“That’s water under the bridge. Just forget it,” you insist.

“So now I’m water under the bridge?”

“What?! No! That’s not what I said.”

“Well, explain,” he pleads. “Or just tell me it’s too late.”

“Yoongi…”

“I just wanna be friends again, but this haunts me. If you have feelings for me, I can’t—”

“I don’t,” you admit.

This is the first time Yoongi has stood completely still since he got here. He stares at you with wide eyes, not uttering a single word. 

It took you a long time to understand your feelings for Yoongi. You had to experience a few unnecessary hook ups and break ups to realize you weren’t in love. You just wanted to fuck him like everyone else.

Who knows where things would have gone? But it would have been nice to let things happen naturally than to bottle up feelings.

You open the door again, and step to the side. 

“Come in. It’s cold.”

This time he doesn’t reject your invitation. 

Yoongi follows you into your living room, looking around and probably reminiscing over the past. Nothing’s really changed other than the furniture. However, the memories of the days you two used to run around while your mom scolded you for messing up the floors are still present.

You point to the couch and offer him a seat while you stand there gathering your words.

“You can sit here.”

“Thanks,” he replies.

Yoongi sits and does that thing he does with his hands when he’s nervous. His fingers intertwine and he just watches his thumbs chase each other in a loop. He used to do it all the time whenever he’d stay too late at your house and his dad would come looking for him.

Your parents always were able to calm Mr. Min down before he could reprimand Yoongi. It took him a while but he finally understood that you and his son were best friends, and your place was Yoongi’s second home.

There are so many evenings he’d miss basketball practice to hold you while you cried after your mom died. Yoongi never left your side. Even when you were unrightfully resentful and angry with him for still having his mom in his life; he understood every stage of your grief.

So no, he’s not just water under the bridge to you. He could never be. He may be wrong for shutting you out, but everyone has their breaking point. 

“I wanted to tell you that I was in love with you. That I wanted you to go with me to college,” you confess.

Yoongi’s jaw nearly hits the floor. You can tell he’s shocked because he starts tripping over his words.

“I-I… I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. You—”

“...Was confused,” you add. 

You can’t help but laugh at yourself and at the situation. All this time you’ve been scared to rip the bandaid off, and the wound’s already healed.

“I didn’t have anyone to talk with about dating and stuff; not from a young woman’s perspective, at least. I would watch rom-coms and thought I had butterflies whenever I saw you. Whole time…”

You fold your arms and lean against the wall, watching the television with a blank stare. Already, it feels like a weight is being lifted off your shoulders. So much tension has built up over time, so many unspoken words and unresolved feelings that it’s a relief to get it all out.

“...My pussy was throbbing.”

Yoongi picks his mouth up off the floor, and straightens in his seat. Once again, he’s caught off guard.

“Huh-What?”

You snort. “I was horny, curious… I just wanted you to bend me over and deflower me.”

“Deflower you? The fuck?”

Yoongi’s laughter erupts from his chest, lightening the vibes in the room. It’s nice to hear him laugh, like genuinely grin and reveal his cute smile. You didn’t realize how much you missed seeing the image until it’s presented to you at that moment.

“Well, it’s true!”

“I see you are still an over-sharer,” Yoongi chuckles.

“And you’re still stubborn.”

Both of you look at each, shaking your heads and sharing a fond smile. You can tell this has been weighing on him as much as it did you. He’s regretful of how he handled the situation, and you’re sorry for staying away so long.

You should have tried harder. Yoongi always did whenever it got tough. 

Regardless, it’s in the past. It’s time to move on.

You walk across the room with your arms open, inviting your friend into an embrace.

“Seriously? No way,” he grimaces, trying to get up before you can close him in.

Unfortunately, he’s not fast enough.

“You know you want to. Come here.”

Wrapping your arms around Yoongi, you giggle when he acts like he’s all tense. He always pretends he doesn’t want to hug you at first, but then, he gives in.

“Fuck it,” he groans, pulling you closer.

You melt in his arm almost immediately. You don’t even care if you slide to the floor. All of your weight rests on him, but he still holds you up while complaining about you smothering him.

“I wish I could breathe,” he gripes.

“Fine…”

Yoongi expects you to back away; but instead, you climb on his lap.

“What are you doing?” 

You shrug. “My bad. I thought we were cool.”

Maybe you did move a little too quickly, but it’s nothing you haven’t done hundreds of times. You’ve shared beds, seen each other naked… accidentally found each other’s Pornhub accounts. You were just acting on instinct. 

You’re about to stand, but Yoongi stops you. “We are, but aren’t you mad at me?... From earlier?”

“A little, but…”

“But what?”

“Can’t friends kiss and make up?” you propose.

His hands rest on your bare thighs, fingers gently nudging at your big t-shirt. The room seems warmer now that there’s no distance between you. Or maybe it’s just the fires building in your belly that’s making you hot?

“Maybe…”

You trace his lips with your finger tips while looking in his eyes. You could spend the night like this if it were up to you. He’s beautiful; inside and out.

“Wanna try and find out?” he whispers.

You respond by softly connecting your lips, moaning instantly as your entire body begins to tingle. 

Yoongi pulls you closer, holds you tighter, and encourages you to deepen the kiss you share by parting your lips with his tongue. You don’t deny him, and he invades your mouth—taking over and leaving you dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

Suddenly, he pulls away, and you’re quick to whine.

“I smell wine,” he comments. “Are you—”

“I had a sip, and the rest spilled all over my hands.”

You show him the stains on your hands and shirt, and he just stares in disbelief. “Only you.”

“Whatever,” you dismiss, trying to steal another kiss from his wet lips. “I need you.”

You drag your crotch across his lap, seeking friction. You’re shocked when he grabs your waist, thinking you’re overstepped once again.

“Hold on.”

Yoongi reaches under his shirt and grabs his gun from his waistband. He shoves it in the folds of your couch, and throws you a wink.

“We’ve kissed. Now let's make up.”

With a smile, you get up and grab his hand.

“Follow me…”

“Get on the bed,” he moans against your lips, pulling away to take off his shirt. 

You begin to move, but a thought pops up in your mind. 

Instead of climbing on the bed, you watch him remove his t-shirt and reveal his ink covered body. You bite your lip in awe at the masterpiece standing in front of you. He has no idea how hot he looks while simply undressing. You’re ready to pounce on him right now, but you pace yourself.

You have all night.

When Yoongi notices you’re still standing in the same spot, he tilts his head with a puzzled expression.

“Change your mind?” he quizzes.

You shake your head, and close the small space between you. Before he can say anything else, you drop to your knees. With skilled hands, you pull on his belt until it's free from the buckle. You flash Yoongi a smirk when you discover he’s watching you with those dark eyes. 

As you pop open the button on his pants, your other hand flattens over his denim covered dick, noting the way it begs to be freed.

“I can’t wait,” you murmur, stroking it over his jeans. 

Once you’re finally able to access his underwear, you reach inside and retrieve his thick, warm cock. You don’t care if you moaned before your lips even touched it. Shame is long gone, and you aren’t afraid to show Yoongi how long you’ve been waiting for this.

“I can tell,” he scoffs.

You let his smart remarks slide for the sake of your impatience, and move in to run the tip of your tongue up and down his slit. His precum oozes out and coats your taste buds, giving you a tiny sample of what he’ll taste like when he dumps his load on your tongue. 

Yoongi hisses, probably reacting to sensitivity. You keep going, giving him a moment to ground himself before you give him the real deal.

While you tease him, you admire his girth. He’s heavy in your hand, but his dick is the perfect size to wrap your hand around it. It’s smooth, but textured and veiny—just like his hands.

No longer able to wait any longer, you part your lips and let your saliva cover the tip. You use your fingers and palm to lubricate the rest of his shaft so that it slides into your mouth with ease. Only when he’s dripping wet with spit do you take him in, and his reaction is golden.

“Ahh, fuck.”

If you could smile, you would right now. Knowing you have him on his tiptoes almost feels as good as the blunt head of his dick touching the back of your throat. 

You can feel his muscles tenses up once your head begins to bob up and down, purposefully slurping loudly to create sinful noises.

“Fuck,” Yoongi curses. 

His voice is rough as he pants through his words, attempting to keep his composure, but failing. 

When Yoongi’s hand finds the back of your head, you look up to see what he’s doing. You keep going as you watch him whisper profanities into the air, running his ringed fingers through his dark strands.

He gathers your hair in his palm, making your scalp tingle and sting due to his strong grip. He starts controlling your movements, managing how much of him you take in at once. It’s not long before you’re choking and gagging on his cock. 

Drops of your spit and tears fall to the floor. Your head starts to spin from the vigorous motions, but the feeling doesn’t prevent you from allowing Yoongi to fuck your throat until it’s raw. 

Craving more, he thrusts into your mouth. The look on his face and the desperation of his movements lets you know he’s almost near his peak. However, once he realizes what’s happening, he swiftly pulls out, leaving you coughing due to the sudden intake of air.

“Look at me,” he commands after you catch your breath. “You’re fucking hot for that.”

“Thank you—”

Yoongi’s hand smacks the smirk off your face. You’re caught off guard, but that doesn’t stop your pussy from gushing at the change in his tone.

“But is that what I told you to do?”

You try to shake your head, but he’s still holding your hair.

“No, use your fucking mouth.”

When you try to speak, he shoves his fingers in your mouth, pushing them deep enough to gag you.

“You like using your mouth, don’t you?” he asks, but you know he isn’t looking for an answer. “So speak.”

“I do,” you croak around his digits.

“Now get the fuck on the bed like I told you to the first time.”

Yoongi snatches you up, and you scramble to the bed. You sit and wait for him to take off the rest of his clothes, trying to remain patient as you see he’s not in the mood for disobedience. You weren’t bothered the slightest by his lack of respect.

In fact, you crave more; and if you have to beg for it, you will.

“Second thoughts?” he asks randomly.

You notice that his wallet’s in his hand and after a few seconds he pulls out a condom. You get butterflies the moment he places a knee on the bed. For you, it’s not even happening fast enough.

“No way.”

“Good,” he winks. “Because I’m not gentle.”

“And I’m not glass.”

Yoongi growls when he hears that response, crawling over to you at lightning speed.

“Come here.”

He grabs your thigh and pulls you closer, pushing your legs apart so he can access your center. His fingers trace over your lace panties until he ultimately decides to rip them off of you. 

You squeak in surprise when you hear the fabric tearing.

“Yoongi!”

“Shh,” he coos. “They’re ruined anyway.”

With a face burning with embarrassment, you turn away and stare at the wall while Yoongi puts the condom on. You can feel his eyes on you, observing the way he makes you fidget and squirm.

You get too comfortable lying there in your own thoughts. The sensation between your thighs catches you off guard. 

“Ooh, shit Yoongi!”

Your body reacts the instant his dick rubs against your clit. You’re already worked up and ready to be filled, but Yoongi doesn’t want to skip the foreplay.

“Damn, it’s wet.”

He rubs the tip over your crevice, taunting you each time he passes your entrance. Just when you think he’ll slide in, he moves up to your throbbing clit and repeats.

“Please stop teasing,” you beg.

Yoongi laughs. “Why should I?”

“Because—”

You begin to whine and complain, but your words get stuck in your throat when Yoongi suddenly enters your pussy.

“Oh my god.”

Your wetness allows him to slide in easily, but your body wasn’t prepared to take him all at once. 

You grip your sheets for support, but the initial shock of him moving so quickly takes almost a minute to subside. 

Yoongi’s patient, giving your body time to adjust before he worries about pleasure. His thumb slowly massages your clit, getting you to relax under his touch. When your grip on the sheets finally loosen, he makes tiny strokes to test the waters.

“Good now?” he asks.

“Mhm.”

With your approval, he positions himself over you and fucks you a little deeper. Once he finds the perfect rhythm, he moves your right leg and places it on his shoulder. 

You’re already moaning loudly, not caring who hears. You cry out everytime his dick digs into your cervix, exploring places you never knew could be reached. 

You’ve begged guys to go deep, but they’ve always been scared to test their limits. Not Yoongi; he’s giving you everything he has, and even though you’re barely holding onto your sanity, you’d probably cry if he stopped.

“Take that damn shirt off,” he growls, gripping the giant t-shirt draped over your body.

You almost can’t figure out how to get it off, but by a miracle you manage. Now completely naked, you toss the clothing aside and start groping your tits while you lift your hips to meet his thrusts. You thought Yoongi would enjoy watching you, but he’s not impressed.

“Who told you to touch yourself?” he presses.

You don’t answer quickly enough for him. Honestly, you weren’t going to reply because your mind is so far away that his words just drift through your ears.

A hand around your throat snatches you back to real time. He’s pissed, biting his lip and trying not to spill his load before he’s ready.

“Answer me.”

This time you speak up immediately. “No one.”

“Hm. So you just do what you want?”

The sound of his deep voice mixed with the sound of your slapping skin and squelching juices turns you on beyond explanation. That familiar tension starts to build in the pit of your stomach, informing you of what’s soon to follow.

“I don’t like rules, Yoongi.”

“Oh, you will,” he promises.

Yoongi’s thrusts get stronger, making your body shift towards the top of the bed. He somehow keeps you in place using the hand he has wrapped around your neck, but you’re still being bounced around like a ragdoll.

“Since you don’t like it, I’ll finish up and leave.”  His movements suddenly become faster, and it doesn’t take you long to figure out what he’s implying. “You can make yourself cum, right?”

“What?” you shriek. “No!”

His laughter resonates through your bedroom as he mocks your desperation. You try reaching between your legs, attempting to induce an orgasm yourself but he forbids.

“Uh-uh.” 

He pushes your hand away and pins your wrist to the mattress, leaving you with no other resort.

“Yoongi, I wanna cum. Don’t be an asshole.”

“Better watch what comes out of your mouth then.”

You groan, realizing he’s too stubborn to give in. He’s not bluffing; he’d actually leave you stuck. 

You can taste the pleasure on your tongue. You’re so close, but Yoongi’s thrusts are starting to become wild. If you don’t give him what he wants, you won’t get what you crave.

“Tell me now…” he grunts, lust oozing from his lips. He leans forward, pushing your leg to your chest as he tries to come closer. The coolness of his chains pressed against your feverish skin brings you a little relief, but it’s not nearly enough. “You sorry?”

Fuck.

“I am.”

He chuckles. “I know.”

Yoongi’s thumb then wipes the single tear rolling down your cheek. Your body’s restless and seeking some relief from all the tension building inside your core. 

He finally slows down, pacing himself so he’s no longer ahead of you in the race to ecstasy. His finger gently tugs at your bottom lip, silently asking you to relax your jaw.

“You’re mine, right?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Good... Now open.”

Gauging your reaction, he smirks when you don’t oblige. You stick out your tongue, waiting for what you already expected.

Yoongi spits directly into your mouth, and you don’t even flinch. You look into his eyes as you close and swallow. He’s pleased when you reveal that nothing’s left when you open again.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he moans, repositoning himself.

Whatever he says after that is lost between his swearing and muffled cries as he presses his lips against your leg. He slowly picks up his speed this time, allowing the heat to fill up inside of you before he drills you like before.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

“You too, Yoongi.”

You’re desperate for more tension, but you’re afraid you’ll be punished if you chase it yourself.

“More, please.”

“More?”

“Please…”

“I got you,” he assures.

Without another word, his thumb finds your clit. His name rolls off your lips over and over, surely traveling far outside your bedroom. Your body tenses aside from your fist pounding the bed. 

“Cumming!”

You can hardly breathe, air getting trapped in your lungs as his hips snap violently into yours. Your back arches as a wave of pleasure hits you like a ton of bricks. Your cries begin to fade away and all you can hear is your rapid heartbeat erupting through your ears.

Yoongi doesn’t let up, giving you his all until your body slowly falls back on you. He then pulls out and peels the condom off of his pulsing cock. As soon as it’s freed, he releases his hot seed onto your skin—painting your stomach and breasts white and sticky.

Both of you stay where you are, panting and struggling to catch your breaths.

You can see Yoongi through your heavy eyelids, slumped over and exhausted from everything he’s given in the past few minutes. His hair hangs over his eyes, but you know he’s just staring at your pussy, replaying everything that just happened in his mind.

“Yoongi?”

“Hm?” He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice, gently lowering your leg before he crawls toward you.

You feel like you’re melting when he kisses your lips. It's almost like a dream being this close to him again. Even after so long you remember the way he smells, the way he breathes… You remember everything like it was yesterday.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers against your skin.  lips make one final journey over your body, kissing every inch of you and not caring about the taste of his cum staining your flesh. He gives you endless compliments and praises, making you bury your face in your pillows. “I can’t forget to taste you.”

“Wait!” you gasp when he spreads your pussy and devours you.

Your sensitive clit throbs in his mouth as he slurps up all your juices. Your body is limp by the time he’s done, eyes nearly shut and your mind shut down for the rest of the night.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he mumbles into the darkness.

Whatever he says next is a mystery because your tiredness ultimately puts you into a deep slumber.

“I’m so fucking stupid.”

You groan as the sun pierces your eyes. Throughout the craziness of last night, you forgot to bring your phone to bed with you. Now, you’ll have to walk and—

Or you can ask Yoongi.

With that in mind, you roll over and unfortunately find an empty bed.

Of course, he left last night. He was probably out of the door as soon as you shut your eyes. You can only hope it’s because he has work to do and he’s not avoiding you after everything you talked about. You won’t even let your mind go there.

Instead, you get out of bed and stumble to the living room—finding your phone on the coffee table right where you left it. You’re still getting notifications as you pick it up; most from Kaci, one from another employee, but nothing from Yoongi.

Before you make your daily morning phone call to your dad, you text back that server regarding time off, and see what Kaci’s fussing about.

6:58am Kaci: BITCH YOU’RE STILL AT HOME!? 

7:10am Kaci: you so got fucked last night. i want all the detail STAT heaux

You roll your eyes. She won’t be getting anything other than the usual shoulder shrug. Last thing you need is for her to make a scene every time Yoongi’s in the room. 

7:23am You: omw. please cover for me.

7:23am Kaci: already am. get some ‘good morning’ dick sis

“I swear I wanna kill this girl sometimes,” you sigh.

Before you can leave the messaging app, your phone rings. The number isn’t saved so you answer it with caution.

“Hello?”

It’s Yoongi.

“Hey, what’s up?”

You hope he doesn’t hear the puff of air you let out as relief washes over you. You were sure you’d lost him again after the things you did and said to each other during the heat of the moment. Not like you didn’t mean everything you said, but you aren’t sure if he did.

“Nothing, just late for work. What’s up with you?”

“Not much right now. I might go home and catch some sleep,” he replies. “Your car’s outside, by the way.”

“Really?” You walk over to the window and open the blind, shocked when you see your car parked in front of your house. “How did you…”

“I told them I was taking it as collateral.”

“What?!”

Yoongi laughs. “I’m kidding.”

If he was standing next to you, you’d punch him. You don’t know how you fall for it every single time.

“I have my ways. Just um… do me a favor?” he asks.

“Yeah, anything.”

“I think my phone’s somewhere in your house. Can you check later?” 

You look around to see if maybe you can spot it but it’s nowhere in plain view. 

“I know you’re already late so…”

“Oh, yeah. For sure,” you respond. “If you want, you can stop by and look. The spare key is in the same spot it’s always been.”

“It’s cool. I’ll wait until you’re off work.”

“That works.”

Both of you stay silent, waiting on the other to speak. You realize you should be getting ready for work so you decide to end the call.

“Well, I have to get ready so… I’ll text this number later?”

Yoongi clears his throat before he answers. “Yeah, it’s a burner but I’ll get the message.”

“Kay. Bye then.”

“Hey,” he calls out before you can hang up.

“Yeah?”

“Still mine?”

A smile grows on your face, and you don’t try to stop it. You didn’t want to bring it up, but you were definitely still thinking about last night, wondering what it would mean today.

But you can’t let him have what he wants so easily, can you?

“Maybe,” you tease.

There’s a pause, but when Yoongi does speak his tone grows dark.

“You still haven’t learned, have you?”

You smirk. “I suppose I haven’t.”

“Well, then. I guess I’m coming over later.”

Shit.

If you didn’t think the restaurant would burn to the ground without your presence, you’d tell him to get his ass over here now. The mere thought of a repeat of last night has you clenching your thighs together.

No working late tonight. You’re sure it’ll be slow anyway.

“I guess you are.”

“I’m not being nice this time either,” he warns.

You bite your lip, trying to conceal your excitement, but you’re really bursting at the seams. You’re sure you’ll be anticipating his visit all day, letting your mind flood with scenarios. You decide to go ahead and taunt him some more, adding fuel to the already roaring fire.

“Good. Neither am I.”

He begins to speak but you end the call before he can get it out. 

As you stand in your living room giggling, a wave of nostalgia hits you. You remember he’d do the same to you after you’d complain about something silly. You’d be pissed, so the thought of him tasting his own medicine puts you in the lead on your imaginary scoreboard.

You’ve probably done a lot more that got on his nerves in the past, but who’s counting? It’s your job to push each other’s buttons and make up.

Isn’t that what friends are for?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jaehyun? Your husband?”

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

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

“What kind of curtains are you planning?”

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

“Do you mind if we look upstairs?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, love.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes widen. “I, uh, o–okay.”

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

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

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

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

But eventually, the kiss does end.

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

“Kissing my wife.”

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

It hits you then. Why he did it.

“...You’re jealous.”

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

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

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

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

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

Now that wasn’t what you expected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, you’re… baking?”

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

“Good idea, but…”

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

“Can you even bake?”

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

“No, don’t, those are—”

“—Poisoned?”

“—Hot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You gulp. Fuck.

<previous | next>

Few things make you as uncomfortable as the thought of being asleep on the couch while Jeongguk’s awake and walking around in the house, and the sound of the shower stops while you’re still cringing at how you didn’t manage to wake up before him. You guess you’re lucky that he needs you for the mission, otherwise, he wouldn’t have passed up a chance of suffocating you with a pillow, surely. Additionally, you probably looked even more disgusting than usual.

Touching your mouth, you’re at least relieved that there’s no drool, and although your hair feels slightly messy under your fingers, it certainly doesn’t feel like a bird’s nest. You're busy patting it down further when something moves in your peripherals.

Of course, it’s Jeongguk entering the room. And of course, he’s shirtless, the only thing he’s wearing being a pair of gray sweatpants hanging incredibly low on his hips.

Let’s just say that if you weren’t entirely awake, you for sure are now.

It’s truly ridiculous, and you hate how the vision in front of you–Jeongguk holding a towel in one hand and drying his black strands with it, occasionally lowering it to dab away a stray drop that’s run down his chest–almost makes you forget how much you hate him.

You knew very well how fit he is, but to see the evidence? The way the muscles bulge under his skin? It turns your skull into an echo chamber. 

You especially despise how insanely attractive he is. Because sure, muscles are hot on their own, but it’s the way he’s so nicely proportioned, his wide, strong shoulders that evolve to impressive but not exaggerated biceps, and veiny, sturdy-looking arms. 

As he rubs his hair with the towel, you can even see parts of some kind of back muscle peek out on his side, a little lower than the bottom of his shoulder blades. And why does his waist look like that? Tiny, defined, and the contours of those muscles making up his abs and v-line move with his every breath. And you haven’t even mentioned the tattoos snaking up his arm and making him look all the more dangerous.

At least you find some sort of solace knowing that with a body fat percentage in the negatives like that, if the world were to end, Jeongguk probably wouldn’t survive anything colder than a mild winter.

“So you decided to finally wake up?” his voice snaps you out of it, and you meet his eyes, annoyance starting to trickle into yours. “Don’t you think you should get up earlier? What if someone pays us a visit to see you still asleep at this hour? Not very housewife of you.”

“Oh, shut up. As if you’ve accomplished anything at this hour except being an ass,” you roll your eyes, turning your head and trying not to let him see how your cheeks are just a bit warmer than before. “And put some clothes on, will you?”

“Well, I did find out that the guys spend Thursday nights at the Kims’, playing poker, and managed to get myself invited,” Jeongguk boasts. “And no, I don’t think I will. I realize you’ve most likely never seen this much of a man before, but if I were you, I’d take advantage of it. Who knows when someone will let you see anything like this again. Never, probably.”

He gestures toward his abs, and you have to admit that the single water drop running down the bulging muscles looks very delectable. Of course, you don’t let him know that, hurt and anger still boiling in your veins.

“Unfortunately, I have, but it doesn’t matter, I don’t wanna see you. At all, actually. And when would you have had the time to find anything out?”

“Oh, right. I forgot. And I found it out when I went on my morning run just now? And keep telling yourself that, honey. You may hate men, but you can’t deny the fact that you'd get under me in a heartbeat if you had the chance.”

It’s the way he takes a step closer, arrogance reeking from him, and you despise how, for a split second, your gaze lingers on his thighs, visibly thick even through the fabric, and the evident bulge, not even visibly hard, front and center. You loathe how you just know that Jeongguk is most likely big and pretty, and how he definitely knows it too.

Seething–and with your heartbeat racing–you reach underneath the duvet to pluck the razor blade from its container strapped to your thigh. “Come closer and I promise you, I’ll cut your corneas out, and my face will be the last thing you see.”

“You’re fucking mental,” he shakes his head in disbelief, seemingly not very scared by your threat or the blade between your fingers. “What kinda name is ‘Fenrir’ anyway?”

You follow his line of sight, eyes landing on the new topic of conversation lying beside you. Carefully, you place the razor blade back.

“Norse mythology? The evil wolf that killed Odin?”

You take his raised eyebrows as a ‘no’. “The gods tried to bind him with magic chains, but Fenrir refused, only allowed it if his handler, the god Tyr, dared put his arm in Fenrir’s mouth.”

“So? Did he?”

“Yes, and Fenrir bit it off.”

You can’t really decipher the look on Jeongguk’s face except that he looks disinterested. He hums a ‘huh,’ and turns to leave the room. Weird.

Deciding to follow his lead even though your body is screaming at you to go back to sleep, you stand up and fold the duvet over your arm. Fenrir jumps down from the couch and follows you as you head up the stairs to return the covers to the empty side of the bed.

With the bed made, you shut your eyes briefly. You need to get started with the day and the mission, but that means going back downstairs and most likely having to spend time with Jeongguk close by while you’d much rather just stay in the bedroom alone.

Sucking it up, you change into another dress provided for you, a light pink summer dress with a pattern of the tiniest flowers on it. It’s pretty, but as you stand before the mirror, your eyes fill with worry. It’s not as tight as the blue one, but you’re still scared Jeongguk will comment on your body. You sigh and will yourself to not think about it and move on. It doesn’t matter.

When it comes to your hair, you would’ve just combed your fingers through it if you were home, maybe tied it away from your face somehow, but you wouldn’t have carefully combed through it like you do now. Neither would you have reached for a small bottle and pumped it twice into your hands, rubbing them together before applying the oil to the lengths of it.

You meet your own eyes in the bathroom mirror. Should you just apply some make-up? It’s no surprise that you look exhausted, and you don’t think you could hide it–along with all your imperfections–with make-up, but maybe just to smooth out your skin tone? Add some eyeliner and mascara to make your eyes look bigger? Contour your cheekbones a bit?

With a deep sigh, you retrieve your make-up bag, starting off by washing your face. Surely, they could’ve sent another female detective? If not Jihyo then Sana? Someone more appropriate and definitely more fitting than you. Because you’re… alright, but objectively and infuriatingly speaking, you don’t belong with Jeongguk. How no one has already called you out on your bluff is beyond you.

Looking somewhat presentable, you decide to take Fenrir out on his first walk of the day. It’s nice to have a backyard where he can relieve himself but he needs a lot more than just that.

The sun is already high in the sky when you close the front door behind you, leash in hand. Discreetly checking out your surroundings, you notice some of your neighbors doing various yard-work and gardening. 

Although these are people you’re supposed to spy on and put on your life’s act in front of, you honestly feel more relaxed outside than you do inside the house with Jeongguk. Fenrir stretches his body out before lowering his nose to sniff the lawn.

For a moment, as you walk through the neighborhood that’s actually pretty lovely, you almost forget about everything bothering you and the challenging mission you’re on.

The sound of someone calling your fake name snaps you out of your thoughts as you walk along the sidewalk. When you turn around, you see Hyeji waving excitedly, a leash of her own in her hand. Her dog is much smaller than Fenrir, and it’s white. A maltese perhaps?

It’s with a bit of smug pride that you return to the house one hour later, opening the door for yourself and Fenrir. 

You expected Jeongguk to be there, of course, and not to be at his very happiest because of, well, the situation, but when he comes to meet you at the door, he’s angrier than you could’ve guessed. 

“Where were you?” he crosses his arm over his chest–at least wearing a navy t-shirt now–his jaw tight.

“Walking Fenrir?” you state, stepping back and definitely not understanding what his problem is. You’ve been gone for a little more than an hour, not the entire day. 

The dog in question stands between the two of you, giving Jeongguk his stink eye. He doesn’t like men all that much, especially not if they seem threatening or unstable in any way, and Jeongguk does give off that kind of vibe.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Well, no? I didn’t think I had to ask for permission?” you blink in disgust. “You do know that this housewife, bread-winning husband thing is just an act, right? Besides, we just woke up, you’d think you’d understand that he needs to go outside.”

Jeongguk scoffs, “Just tell me when you leave and where.”

“Because?”

“Because,” he lowers his voice to a strained whisper, “we’re not exactly here on vacation, and I wanna know where you are.”

“But you didn’t tell me when you left for your run?”

“Because you were sleeping, and besides, I’m a man.”

“You’re a real dick, Jeongguk, you know that, right?”

Jeongguk just rolls his eyes, still standing with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“And I was gonna tell you about the lead I just found.”

This seemingly piques his interest, “What lead?”

For a split second, you consider not telling him as a punishment for being an ass, but honestly, you don’t want to anger him more than necessary. 

“Hyeji’s got a dog. I just met her, and we walked them together, so I’m thinking that’s my way in.”

Jeongguk hums, his professionalism taking the lead. “Yeah, that could work. Getting close to her will get you closer to Eunha too.”

“By the way, just so our stories match, should someone ask, I told her that I got Fenrir after a burglary before I met you.”

“What? Who did you tell? Hyeji? Just her?”

Confusion colors your expression, “Yeah, why?”

“Because I told Namjoon, the guy living in twelve, that I got Fenrir.”

You shut your eyes in frustration. “Now why would you do that? And why wouldn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because it’s such a masculine dog, it wouldn’t make sense if he was yours?”

“And why is that?”

“Look, stop being a feminazi for once. He doesn’t fit your character. Sure you’re not this sweet, pretty girl in real life, but that’s who you’re trying to be here, right? It makes more sense that he’s mine.”

You press your lips together. It shouldn’t hurt what he thinks of you. “Fine, just tell me if you do something like that again.”

“Fine.”

“And we really need to hurry up and get this over with so we can leave before everything starts to crumble around us.”

You stay inside for most of the day, reluctantly showing Jeongguk the commands you use when walking Fenrir, and even letting him play soccer with him in the backyard. It’s good for your image as a couple, you begrudgingly realize, and if you’re ever confronted about the contradicting backstory of Fenrir, you’ll just say that Jeongguk’s male ego is too fragile to admit that Fenrir’s originally yours. 

Stuck inside, you wonder what you’re going to do about the food for the remainder of your stay. Yesterday, you ate what Hyeji and Eunha brought you, even though you were hesitant in case it was poisoned. Since Jeongguk disregarded your warning and seemed fine, you followed his lead.

Although frustrating you beyond belief, you realize that you might as well bite the bullet and cook for the both of you. You don’t really want to provide any type of service for Jeongguk, but at the end of the day, it’s your job. Not to be his maid–cough–wife, but to be undercover and finish this mission.

You hear the sound of paws on the kitchen floor before you hear Jeongguk’s voice.

“You know this is probably the best part so far, Mrs Jeon,” he taunts smugly. 

Turning away from the pans on the stove, you roll your eyes. At least he seems to be in a better mood. 

“First of all, I’m not a Mrs, and certainly not your Mrs. Secondly, unfortunately I have to eat, and I know you’d use the opportunity to poison me, so I might as well do it.”

“Might as well do what? Poison me?”

“No, idiot, cook. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to because you’re a grown man and surely able to feed yourself? But I don’t have very much reason to poison you. Yes, I hate you with everything in me, but how would I explain your absence? What would I do with your body?”

“Oh, there are probably plenty of things you’d do with my body.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Jeongguk, I don’t want to be anywhere near you, dead or alive.”

“Hmm, let’s say that,” he shrugs.

He does end up eating the food you serve. In a different room from you, of course.

Your heart beats quickly, and your veins are filled with anxiety as you stare at your options of dresses. The fact that even though it was your turn to sleep in the bedroom, you didn’t manage to get a good night’s rest, doesn’t help.

The barbeque is today, in a few hours actually. You haven’t spoken to Jeongguk about what he’s wearing, and you really don’t want to, treasuring the fact that you haven’t seen much of him today so far.

It’s probably best to go for cute and proper, casual yet… elegant? Something not too revealing or form fitting around the chest as well. You sigh, not having put this much effort into your looks in a while. It’s not like you have anyone to impress at work, anyway.

In the end, you settle for a light yellow dress, reaching just below your knees and with a square neckline and short sleeves. It’s cute, you think, as you hold it in your hands. It won’t look its very best on you, but it will have to do. You just hope Jeongguk will keep his mouth shut because you really don’t need it today.

Ten minutes to six, you open the front door with a large oven dish containing food in your hands, Jeongguk right behind you with a case of beer in his hand. The few sentences you’ve exchanged so far were all about the plan, and it’s placed you into some kind of bubble. 

Until Jeongguk’s voice breaks you out of it. 

“Wait,” he says, hand still on the open door when you turn around.

He’s wearing a dark blue button up shirt, the first two buttons undone, paired with black chino shorts, and it’s incredible how good he looks. The outfit brings out the darkness of his hair and eyes and shows off his impressive physique. 

You never thought someone’s knees and calves could be attractive, but that’s obviously the case when it comes to Jeongguk because you’ve found yourself glancing even at those more than once. His whole body is just so… manly. Strong and athletic. And it makes you hurl on the inside how you’re unable to stop your body from appreciating his.

He’s quiet until you take a step closer, looking up at him questioningly. “What?”

“Let your hair down.”

Instinctively, your hand flies up to feel the loose ponytail you put your hair into an hour ago, but you don’t feel any particular bumps or loose strands that would make it look weird.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Glaring at him and his non-informative answer, you shake your head. “No.”

But he doesn’t give up. “Come here,” he instructs, and you’re well aware that people could be watching you, so reluctantly, you decide to listen.

“Just trust me for once,” he looks down at you when you come to stand in front of him. Your heart starts to race when he puts the beer down to lift his hands to your head, taking the hair tie out and letting your hair fall freely. You hate that you know how he smells, and you hate that you like it.

“I don’t trust you,” you state because it’s true. The only reason you’re somewhat going along with him is because you’re outside where your neighbors could see, and they can’t witness you arguing.

If your heart was beating quickly before, it’s nothing compared to what it does when Jeongguk chooses to run his hand through your hair to fix it to how he likes. Being so close to him makes you nervous of meeting his eyes, but when his focus lies elsewhere, you chance a glance at his face. 

He looks concentrated and stern, but you notice a mole under his bottom lip that makes his entire face almost… cute. It’s disgusting, really, how kissable his mouth appears.

“It makes you look younger, more care-free,” he explains absentmindedly. “Now, you need to act well, so if you can do me a favor and hide your man-hatred for just one night.”

You hadn’t felt how your eyes had softened just a tad, but you damn well feel the glare return stronger than before.

“Excuse me, I’m a great actress,” you bite in a strained whisper. “A great detective.”

“Let’s just agree to disagree on that one,” he smiles down at you, but it’s sarcastic and full of distaste.

“Fuck you,” you mutter, stepping away from him.

The walk to the Jungs’ is a short one–it really is just on the other side of the street–but you’re clutching the oven dish tightly in your hands the whole time. You begrudgingly realize that Jeongguk is an even better actor than you thought.  

As soon as you arrive at the Jungs’ backyard, all attention is on the two of you. The new couple. All in all, there are maybe ten to twelve people gathered, most watching curiously. Jeongguk is quick to hand the beer away and then take the oven dish from you to put it down on a table filled with food and ingredients. 

After that, he doesn’t leave your side for the ten minutes it takes for everyone to greet you, his arm resting comfortably around your waist. You try your best to ignore the nerves as you’re basically held against Jeongguk’s firm body, but you’re almost sure he can feel your heartbeat through your clothes.

Remembering what he said before, you throw caution to the wind and place your hand on his abdomen. Jeongguk doesn’t react and only continues to speak with your new “friends,” and you try to act as if having your hand on his firm stomach–moving slightly under your touch with his every movement and breath–is a common occurrence.

“Awh, that’s so romantic,” Wheein exclaims when you once again tell the story of how you and Jeongguk ‘met.’ She and her two friends watch you with heart eyes, but it’s definitely mostly because of your fake husband. If only they knew the evil that resides behind that ridiculous beauty.

“Yeah, and we just knew, right, honey? Right away?”

“Yeah,” you smile up at him, and you’re almost floored by his warm smile. 

If you’ve learned anything so far, it’s that you’ve never seen him really smile before coming here, and it’s so convincing. You take notice of how dimples appear on his cheeks and how the corners of his eyes crinkle when he looks the very happiest. It’s almost jarring.

Fortunately, you can’t stay together the whole time, and Jeongguk decides to help out with the meat, seeing it as a chance to get closer to the guys. You, on the other hand, talk with some of the wives. And unsurprisingly, they just really wanna gush about your hunk of a husband.

You nod along to their fawning over Jeongguk until Hyeji calls for them from inside the house. She needs help with the food, and Wheein, cradling her practically newborn baby, holds him out for you.

“You wanna hold him a little bit for me? I’ll be right inside if you need anything, but he’ll most likely just sleep.”

It’s been a while since you held a baby, the latest being your cousin’s daughter, and she’s almost seven now, but you nod. It’ll be nice to not have to listen to Jeongguk’s new admirers for a while. Even nicer not to have to agree with them.

“Uh, sure.”

Gratefully, she hands him over and disappears into the house.

Turns out that Wheein wasn’t lying, and although Doyun isn’t asleep, he’s very calm. You spend another ten minutes easily watching the little baby in your arms, mesmerized by how incredibly adorable he is. He’s got a lot of hair for such a young baby, his entire head covered in black tresses.

“New here?”

When you look up, you’re met with an unfamiliar face. It’s a man, tall and with black hair. He must’ve just arrived.

“Uh, yeah,” you answer, “moved in just a few days ago.”

The man smiles, and you’re hit with how pretty he is, but there’s a… feeling in your stomach.

“I’m Haneul”

“Nice to meet you,” you greet, thankful for the little human occupying your arms and rendering you unavailable for a handshake.

“The pleasure’s all mine, nice to finally have some beautiful new women in town.”

“Oh, uh, I’m flattered, but unfortunately, I’m married,” you smile politely and shift Doyun around to give Haneul a glimpse of your fake ring.

He only glances at it briefly before hitting you with a lazy smirk. “‘Unfortunately,’ huh?”

Fuck. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, I love my husband.”

“Is he here?”

“Yeah,” you answer, turning your head to search for your tall, dark-haired husband. But you don’t see him at the grill, and your stomach drops. “Uh, he was there just a moment ago.”

“I see. Listen, I know a lot of husbands can be… lacking… in certain areas, and I’m having a hard time tearing my eyes off you, so I thought I should at least offer, you know?”

You hate men so fucking much, the audacity to come onto you in this manner after you already told him you were happily married? You’d also bet every penny you own that he wouldn’t have made the offer if he saw Jeongguk, because your fake husband–regardless if you’d ever admit it to anyone or even yourself–can be really imposing. He’s tall, strong, and has great posture. 

Honestly, they’re probably not even that different, Jeongguk and Haneul. At least they both seem confident and very entitled.

Your pulse races, but not in a good way, and you instinctively take a step back. You can feel the plastic case lying in your bra, but unless it is a real life or death situation, you can’t reach for it.

“Well, I’ll have to decline, and you should probably know that not a lot of husbands would appreciate your offer,” you warn politely, realizing that this is a man who won’t respect a woman’s opinion, but only her male owner’s.

You continue walking backward, smiling nicely just because you know it’s in your best interest not to cause a scene. He follows you, still with his lips pulled into that smirk. “Oh but they don’t need to know.”

Luckily, Jeongguk has returned from wherever he went, talking with the other men–Hoseok included–when you reach him.

He’s looking the other way, not having noticed you as you almost bump into him before hoisting Doyun up and holding him with one arm and carefully snaking your free one around Jeongguk’s.

“This is my husband,” you tell Haneul. At the same time, Jeongguk turns his head questioningly, looking between you and the man. 

Truthfully, it hurts you to have to come to him for any sort of help, but you guess you can at least play it off as your cover–Kim Yeji–needing him and not you. 

Certainly understanding why you’re suddenly seeking his protection, when you peer up at Jeongguk, you see his stern face observing the other man. 

Haneul only smiles apologetically and raises his hands, palms facing you.

You know that Jeongguk’s lack of pleasantries doesn’t mean that he’s angry at the guy–he’s probably only annoyed at you for interrupting his mingling–but Haneul accepts his defeat and leaves anyway. With him gone, you step away from Jeongguk, making sure it’s inconspicuous enough. 

In true Jeongguk-manner, he raises his eyebrows minimally at you, but all you do is give a little dismissive wave. 

For the few minutes it takes you to make sure Haneul isn’t lingering, you stay in Jeongguk’s proximity. Although keeping his confused aura whenever he peers over at you, there aren’t any opportunities for him to ask, and the other beer-drinking men keep him busy.

Soon enough, you find yourself at the border between the Jungs’ and the Choi’s yards, sitting down on the low stone wall dividing them. Doyun is wide awake but so well behaved and calm that he might as well have been knocked out, and you don’t even try to keep your eyes off him.

It’s not until someone sits down beside you that you look up. Surprisingly, you breathe out in relief when the brown eyes you meet belong to Jeongguk. Who would’ve thought you’d ever be relieved to see him?

“It’s going well, but unfortunately, I haven’t found out anything else of importance,” he updates you.

Realistically, you’ve always known you wouldn't be able to solve the case in an afternoon, but realizing you might be stuck here for longer than you expected makes your heart sink.

It’s quiet for a moment. Something about this cute little being on your lap lessens your anger, and you’re forced to realize that there’s just no point in overworking your heart at the moment. You can’t run, and there’s nowhere for you to hide.

“Isn’t he the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” you ask quietly, focusing on the little being that’s still pure.

As if he didn’t see the tiny baby before, Jeongguk peers over into your lap. “Hmm, he’s pretty cute.”

Hit by another realization, you turn your head to first look at Jeongguk and then Doyun again.

“Do you have something to tell me?”

You can practically feel Jeongguk’s confusion. “What?”

“I mean, he a hundred percent looks like he could be yours,” you smile a small smile, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you think it’s mostly genuine. If someone told you two weeks ago that you’d try to make light conversation, joke even, with Jeongguk, you would’ve laughed at the insanity.

But, of course, no good deed goes unpunished, and the peace is short-lived.

“So you think I’m cute?”

“That’s definitely not what I said,” you scoff, not even sparing Jeongguk a glance.

“But it is what you meant.”

You grow quiet, not feeling a fight but unable to lie at the moment. Jeongguk just needs to ruin everything not already terrible, doesn’t he?

“So you do?”

“Jeongguk,” you sigh, holding the little boy’s hand, “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you you’re handsome.”

“No, but it’s always nice to hear,” he says, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “But honestly, you’re right, he does look a lot like me. I’m pretty sure I looked exactly like that when I was a baby.”

For some reason, you find the irritation slowly melting away once more. You’re just tired of always being angry with him, and since he’s not terribly mean at the moment, you guess you can allow yourself a little break. It’s not like he’s going to insult you and your family and then bash your head in with a rock in front of all the neighbors.

“It’s the nose, right? And the eyes—yours are also really round.”

“Yeah.”

You watch as Jeongguk offers his hand and as Doyun grips his finger. The vision of his large, tattooed hand being held by this tiny little one ignites just a little bit of warmth in your chest.

“That guy… what was up with him?”

You tear your eyes from the cuteness in front of you to peer at the side of Jeongguk’s face. He seems curious.

“I don’t know, he…”

But you just don’t have the energy to start anything. Telling Jeongguk about how men never respect you and how you hate the way they only stop when there’s another man involved will only make him roll his eyes and call you a man-hating lesbian. 

Besides, even if you think Haneul was interested in you in some way or another, you can’t tell Jeongguk that either. Although you’re well aware that men frequently only show “interest” to prove their power over you as a woman, Jeongguk will only retort that you’re being negative. He’d call you self-centered for thinking that Haneul wanted something because how would someone that pretty possibly be interested in you?

So you don’t continue your sentence. Neither does Jeongguk. 

A moment passes before he places his hands on his knees. “Well, I’m gonna head back to the guys and keep trying.”

“Yeah, me too. They’ll probably be back soon,” you nod toward the house. 

Jeongguk nods as well, “Good luck, then.”

“You too.”

The food is delicious, even if you do wait to take the first bite until everyone else has, just in case. You’re seated at the end of the table, Jeongguk on the short side with the corner between you.

It’s more difficult than you would like to admit to find a balance in eye contact, or just any contact, really. 

Ideally, you’d prefer to pretend he doesn’t exist, but he does, and you can’t seem too avoidant or there will be suspicions. 

On the other hand, if you look too much at him, he’ll for sure call you out on your obsessive behavior later, and you don't want to give him any more ammunition than he already has. He really doesn’t need to know that you don’t think you’ve ever seen a man as handsome as him before. 

Hyeji sits on your left side, turning to you often but otherwise talking animatedly to her husband Yoongi on her other side.  

Jeongguk speaks a bit with his neighbor too, but it’s not someone of importance–Hyeji’s visiting cousin. You don’t know her name but she doesn’t hide how interested she is in your “husband.” Which sort of makes you unreasonably irritated. Or maybe it isn’t so unreasonable since it makes you feel disrespected. For what she knows, Jeongguk is yours.

Luckily for you–for the mission–Jeongguk only interacts with her in a clearly platonic way, no too joyous smiles or any touches at all. Just small talk.

If it were up to you, you would’ve preferred going through the evening without as much as another word to your partner, leaving him to talk to whoever he wants, but there’s one thing that makes the hair on your arms stand up. One man.

Hoseok.

He sits on the other side of the long, rectangular table, approximately five seats away. He’s too far away for you or Jeongguk to really speak to, but that in itself doesn’t bother you too much because you don’t want to risk coming on too strong, anyway. 

What does bother you is the curious, even inspective way he turns his head to look at you. He’s a handsome man, with dark brown eyes and hair and sun-kissed skin, but he makes cold shivers run down your spine.

Without meeting his eyes, you try to appear confident and like your new friends are demanding all your attention, but whenever Hyeji turns away, you’re left to your husband.

In an attempt to at least look like you enjoy having him on this earth, you place your hand on top of his that’s resting on the table. Not executed in the smoothest way possible–a little bumpy–you still think it looks somewhat genuine.

At the action, Jeongguk turns his head to face you, but you’re already turning yours away, this time asking Hyeji where she grew up and ready to tell your own made-up childhood story. To your surprise, you feel Jeongguk turn his hand over and intertwine your fingers, and for quite some time, your hands remain like that.

“Hi! Good to get away from the others for a bit, right?”

You match Hyeji’s grin as you come to stand before her, Fenrir and her dog, Bubbles, sniffing each other. 

“Yeah, I just zone out when they start talking about sports,” you chuckle, referring to the few couples still at the Jungs’, and particularly the men. “They’re so passionate about it, too?”

“Oh, definitely! Does Jaehyun invite his friends to watch important games? Or just… all the games?” she laughs, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her in the chilly night air and taking the lead on the sidewalk.

You call for Fenrir’s attention and follow Hyeji. “Yeah, not all the games, and they’re not always at ours, but yeah, they can’t seem to watch anything alone, can they?”

“No, meanwhile I just watch my series with Bubbles, but he’s so much better company than Yoongi, honestly.”

“I can relate to that! How old is Bubbles, by the way?”

“He’ll be seven in December, so almost an old man,” she smiles fondly down at the dog who stops to pee on a neighbor’s fence. “Oops,” Hyeji smiles childishly. “What about Fenrir? How old is he?”

“He’s five.”

“He’s so big,” she marvels over the dog that dwarfs her maltese.

“Yeah. He’s made me feel a lot safer since… what happened.”

“I get that. I’m sorry that happened to you, it must’ve been awful. But at least you’ve got Fenrir and your husband too now to protect you.”

You almost laugh at the irony. If someone broke into your fake home, Jeongguk would probably serve you up on a silver platter for the burglars to take you. He’d interrupt them, only to happily offer them a knife and remind them to really stab you through the heart before they leave.

“Jaehyun is… strong and all, but I honestly think he’s a little too relaxed,” you complain, appearing worried. “Speaking of security, we’re looking to install a home alarm, but we’re not sure which one to get. Do you have any recommendations? Since you also have a dog?”

“Oh, of course! I can’t remember the name of our model, but I remember that one of our criterias was that there are no motion sensors because even though Bubbles mostly sleeps while we’re gone, we really don’t want him to trigger the alarm.”

“Exactly. So we’re looking at an alarm with just door and window sensors?”

“Yeah. I’ll look up the name of ours but I’d honestly recommend getting another brand because we have so little time to enter the code from the moment we unlock the door that it gives me half a heart attack every time.”

You chuckle at the dramatic way she clutches at her heart. “Oh, yeah, that would stress me out too.”

She tilts her head curiously. “How is Fenrir inside when he’s alone? Is he destructive?”

“No, he’s pretty good. He can bark a bit if he hears something outside and he can paw at the door sometimes, but he leaves furniture and such alone.”

“That’s good. He’s not on the windows, then?”

You pretend to think about it, already knowing that Fenrir’s very well behaved and absolutely never up to anything bad whenever he’s alone. “Hm, not that I know of? Maybe if he sees something, I’m sure he could bark and press his nose against it.”

“I’m just asking because I know you can choose an alarm that has window sensors but disable it for specific windows. Did you know that Eunha’s got a cat? He sits at this one window day in and day out, looking at the birds, but if he sees a squirrel in the tree outside, he goes crazy and basically tries to claw his way through the window.”

“Oh, really?” you exclaim curiously, grinning victoriously on the inside.

“Yeah, and their alarm isn’t connected to any kind of first responders or security company just because he sometimes decides to smash his head into any of the other windows too.”

Hyeji laughs and you chuckle along as well, although, you can definitely think of a few more reasons that the Jungs wouldn’t want any sort of authorities visiting their house.

“It just sends alerts and activates their inside cameras. Which is good if there’s a risk that your pet triggered it.”

“Oh, so you can check for yourself? That sounds smart. I’ll look into it with Jaehyun. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

To say that you get back to the Jungs’ with a little extra determination in your step is an understatement.

Jeongguk is still sitting outside at the table with the guys, their passionate voices talking about various sports and athletes sound through the summer night air. The sun set quite some time ago, the tables now only lit by candles and strings of fairy lights hanging from the few trees.

Your discovery lies heavy on your tongue, and you want to tell Jeongguk as soon as possible. He doesn’t notice you and Hyeji walking back to the table until you’re standing at his side. They’re all looking so relaxed, leaning back in the rattan armchairs.

“Hey, uh, honey? I think I’m gonna head back home. It’s getting late, and I’m getting tired.”

He looks up at you and then to Fenrir who sits behind you patiently.

“Oh, already?”

You can tell by his eyes that he wants to stay to work on his own connections, but you feel like the best tactic is to take it slowly and not push too much. Additionally, you’ve already found a huge lead.

The voices are still loud as Jeongguk’s new friends discuss a particular game from five years ago, a few of the remaining wives having gathered at the other end of the table and talking animatedly to each other about something. Hyeji joins them with Bubbles on her lap.

So you make sure no one’s watching too closely, and you lean down.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper in Jeongguk’s ear.

He pulls back to look at you questioningly, still reluctant to leave so you gesture with your hand for him to lean back in.

“I think I found our way in.”

But the moment after you say it, your gaze travels carefully over the other neighbors and lands on the eyes of Hoseok himself. He’s watching you with something unclear in his gaze.

In a slight panic, you recall the chief’s words, and with no time to second guess yourself, you slide your hand down Jeongguk’s chest, mindlessly toying with the first thing you feel, which happens to be the third button. It’s the first one that’s actually buttoned, and perhaps unfortunately, it accidentally opens under your touch.

“He’s watching,” you explain quietly but rushed into Jeongguk’s ear, and to make sure your act is believable, you press your lips against his cheek and with your other hand coming up on the other side of his face from behind, you tangle your fingers carefully in his hair.

Truthfully, you don’t think Jeongguk minds, otherwise you would’ve definitely been more careful. Well, he’ll probably spend an hour in the shower when you get back, scrubbing his body free from your touch, but he allows it, even encourages it since it’s vital to the mission. 

Along with what the chief said about needing to look in love, Jeongguk’s own words from the first day ring in your head.

“Touch me like you love me” 

Or something like that. So you definitely have his permission.

What shouldn’t surprise you but still does is when he raises his hand to cover yours on his chest, sliding it to the side, underneath the fabric of his half-open shirt.

You let out a shaky breath against the side of his face, hoping, most likely in vain, that he doesn’t notice. His hand is warm over yours, and his chest under your palm is too. The heartbeat you feel is just your own, pulsing through your entire body and to your hand, not his, even though your hand is basically right above it. You honestly aren’t sure he has a heart.

Although knowing you’d see more of him than you ideally wanted, you wouldn’t have guessed that you’d essentially be feeling him up in public like this, but honestly, his body isn’t the problem. 

Somewhere in your mind, you’re already dreading having to sooner or later look him in the eye.

Surprising you even more, you feel his other arm wrap around your waist, somehow tugging you, gasping, onto his lap.

Ending up sitting sideways over his thighs, you decide to make the best out of the situation and look relaxed, leaning back against him. You don’t check if Hoseok’s still watching, but you’d rather play it safe than make him suspect something.

“Did I tell you how pretty you look today? My little wife.”

You try your best to conceal your surprise, but you still feel your eyes widen a tad at Jeongguk’s quiet words. And of course, your cheeks start to heat up even more than before. 

Yeah, you guess that Hoseok must still be watching.

Looking at Jeongguk, meeting his eyes, you almost lose your breath and the leash still grasped in your hand. You get why the chief sent him. 

Jeongguk is probably the officer that hates you the most out of everyone, yet he has no problem gazing up at you like you're his entire world. It’s not that much of a surprise that he’s a god damn talented actor because he’s just good at everything.

You’re in no position to do anything but play along, and you don’t really want to admit it to yourself, but after today and at that specific moment, it doesn’t seem that terrible. 

At first, you’re extremely aware of every little area where you and him are touching, even through your clothes. You’re aware of your breathing and his–both slow and calm, but his feeling just a tad bit more naturally unaffected than yours.

But his embrace is soft yet sturdy, and he has the audacity to slowly and softly rub your back and sometimes your shoulder. Ten minutes pass just like that.

And you’re tired. So incredibly exhausted. You’ve barely slept at all, and strangely enough, you don’t feel threatened at the moment despite being surrounded by dangerous people.

So you drift off. Right then and there, in the arms of the man that despises your very being–your head resting right by his neck–and in the backyard of one of the country’s most accomplished robbers. One of them will for sure be the death of you, and you don't think it will be Hoseok.

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Few things make you as uncomfortable as the thought of being asleep on the couch while Jeongguk’s awake and walking around in the house, and the sound of the shower stops while you’re still cringing at how you didn’t manage to wake up before him. You guess you’re lucky that he needs you for the mission, otherwise, he wouldn’t have passed up a chance of suffocating you with a pillow, surely. Additionally, you probably looked even more disgusting than usual.

Touching your mouth, you’re at least relieved that there’s no drool, and although your hair feels slightly messy under your fingers, it certainly doesn’t feel like a bird’s nest. You're busy patting it down further when something moves in your peripherals.

Of course, it’s Jeongguk entering the room. And of course, he’s shirtless, the only thing he’s wearing being a pair of gray sweatpants hanging incredibly low on his hips.

Let’s just say that if you weren’t entirely awake, you for sure are now.

It’s truly ridiculous, and you hate how the vision in front of you–Jeongguk holding a towel in one hand and drying his black strands with it, occasionally lowering it to dab away a stray drop that’s run down his chest–almost makes you forget how much you hate him.

You knew very well how fit he is, but to see the evidence? The way the muscles bulge under his skin? It turns your skull into an echo chamber. 

You especially despise how insanely attractive he is. Because sure, muscles are hot on their own, but it’s the way he’s so nicely proportioned, his wide, strong shoulders that evolve to impressive but not exaggerated biceps, and veiny, sturdy-looking arms. 

As he rubs his hair with the towel, you can even see parts of some kind of back muscle peek out on his side, a little lower than the bottom of his shoulder blades. And why does his waist look like that? Tiny, defined, and the contours of those muscles making up his abs and v-line move with his every breath. And you haven’t even mentioned the tattoos snaking up his arm and making him look all the more dangerous.

At least you find some sort of solace knowing that with a body fat percentage in the negatives like that, if the world were to end, Jeongguk probably wouldn’t survive anything colder than a mild winter.

“So you decided to finally wake up?” his voice snaps you out of it, and you meet his eyes, annoyance starting to trickle into yours. “Don’t you think you should get up earlier? What if someone pays us a visit to see you still asleep at this hour? Not very housewife of you.”

“Oh, shut up. As if you’ve accomplished anything at this hour except being an ass,” you roll your eyes, turning your head and trying not to let him see how your cheeks are just a bit warmer than before. “And put some clothes on, will you?”

“Well, I did find out that the guys spend Thursday nights at the Kims’, playing poker, and managed to get myself invited,” Jeongguk boasts. “And no, I don’t think I will. I realize you’ve most likely never seen this much of a man before, but if I were you, I’d take advantage of it. Who knows when someone will let you see anything like this again. Never, probably.”

He gestures toward his abs, and you have to admit that the single water drop running down the bulging muscles looks very delectable. Of course, you don’t let him know that, hurt and anger still boiling in your veins.

“Unfortunately, I have, but it doesn’t matter, I don’t wanna see you. At all, actually. And when would you have had the time to find anything out?”

“Oh, right. I forgot. And I found it out when I went on my morning run just now? And keep telling yourself that, honey. You may hate men, but you can’t deny the fact that you'd get under me in a heartbeat if you had the chance.”

It’s the way he takes a step closer, arrogance reeking from him, and you despise how, for a split second, your gaze lingers on his thighs, visibly thick even through the fabric, and the evident bulge, not even visibly hard, front and center. You loathe how you just know that Jeongguk is most likely big and pretty, and how he definitely knows it too.

Seething–and with your heartbeat racing–you reach underneath the duvet to pluck the razor blade from its container strapped to your thigh. “Come closer and I promise you, I’ll cut your corneas out, and my face will be the last thing you see.”

“You’re fucking mental,” he shakes his head in disbelief, seemingly not very scared by your threat or the blade between your fingers. “What kinda name is ‘Fenrir’ anyway?”

You follow his line of sight, eyes landing on the new topic of conversation lying beside you. Carefully, you place the razor blade back.

“Norse mythology? The evil wolf that killed Odin?”

You take his raised eyebrows as a ‘no’. “The gods tried to bind him with magic chains, but Fenrir refused, only allowed it if his handler, the god Tyr, dared put his arm in Fenrir’s mouth.”

“So? Did he?”

“Yes, and Fenrir bit it off.”

You can’t really decipher the look on Jeongguk’s face except that he looks disinterested. He hums a ‘huh,’ and turns to leave the room. Weird.

Deciding to follow his lead even though your body is screaming at you to go back to sleep, you stand up and fold the duvet over your arm. Fenrir jumps down from the couch and follows you as you head up the stairs to return the covers to the empty side of the bed.

With the bed made, you shut your eyes briefly. You need to get started with the day and the mission, but that means going back downstairs and most likely having to spend time with Jeongguk close by while you’d much rather just stay in the bedroom alone.

Sucking it up, you change into another dress provided for you, a light pink summer dress with a pattern of the tiniest flowers on it. It’s pretty, but as you stand before the mirror, your eyes fill with worry. It’s not as tight as the blue one, but you’re still scared Jeongguk will comment on your body. You sigh and will yourself to not think about it and move on. It doesn’t matter.

When it comes to your hair, you would’ve just combed your fingers through it if you were home, maybe tied it away from your face somehow, but you wouldn’t have carefully combed through it like you do now. Neither would you have reached for a small bottle and pumped it twice into your hands, rubbing them together before applying the oil to the lengths of it.

You meet your own eyes in the bathroom mirror. Should you just apply some make-up? It’s no surprise that you look exhausted, and you don’t think you could hide it–along with all your imperfections–with make-up, but maybe just to smooth out your skin tone? Add some eyeliner and mascara to make your eyes look bigger? Contour your cheekbones a bit?

With a deep sigh, you retrieve your make-up bag, starting off by washing your face. Surely, they could’ve sent another female detective? If not Jihyo then Sana? Someone more appropriate and definitely more fitting than you. Because you’re… alright, but objectively and infuriatingly speaking, you don’t belong with Jeongguk. How no one has already called you out on your bluff is beyond you.

Looking somewhat presentable, you decide to take Fenrir out on his first walk of the day. It’s nice to have a backyard where he can relieve himself but he needs a lot more than just that.

The sun is already high in the sky when you close the front door behind you, leash in hand. Discreetly checking out your surroundings, you notice some of your neighbors doing various yard-work and gardening. 

Although these are people you’re supposed to spy on and put on your life’s act in front of, you honestly feel more relaxed outside than you do inside the house with Jeongguk. Fenrir stretches his body out before lowering his nose to sniff the lawn.

For a moment, as you walk through the neighborhood that’s actually pretty lovely, you almost forget about everything bothering you and the challenging mission you’re on.

The sound of someone calling your fake name snaps you out of your thoughts as you walk along the sidewalk. When you turn around, you see Hyeji waving excitedly, a leash of her own in her hand. Her dog is much smaller than Fenrir, and it’s white. A maltese perhaps?

It’s with a bit of smug pride that you return to the house one hour later, opening the door for yourself and Fenrir. 

You expected Jeongguk to be there, of course, and not to be at his very happiest because of, well, the situation, but when he comes to meet you at the door, he’s angrier than you could’ve guessed. 

“Where were you?” he crosses his arm over his chest–at least wearing a navy t-shirt now–his jaw tight.

“Walking Fenrir?” you state, stepping back and definitely not understanding what his problem is. You’ve been gone for a little more than an hour, not the entire day. 

The dog in question stands between the two of you, giving Jeongguk his stink eye. He doesn’t like men all that much, especially not if they seem threatening or unstable in any way, and Jeongguk does give off that kind of vibe.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Well, no? I didn’t think I had to ask for permission?” you blink in disgust. “You do know that this housewife, bread-winning husband thing is just an act, right? Besides, we just woke up, you’d think you’d understand that he needs to go outside.”

Jeongguk scoffs, “Just tell me when you leave and where.”

“Because?”

“Because,” he lowers his voice to a strained whisper, “we’re not exactly here on vacation, and I wanna know where you are.”

“But you didn’t tell me when you left for your run?”

“Because you were sleeping, and besides, I’m a man.”

“You’re a real dick, Jeongguk, you know that, right?”

Jeongguk just rolls his eyes, still standing with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“And I was gonna tell you about the lead I just found.”

This seemingly piques his interest, “What lead?”

For a split second, you consider not telling him as a punishment for being an ass, but honestly, you don’t want to anger him more than necessary. 

“Hyeji’s got a dog. I just met her, and we walked them together, so I’m thinking that’s my way in.”

Jeongguk hums, his professionalism taking the lead. “Yeah, that could work. Getting close to her will get you closer to Eunha too.”

“By the way, just so our stories match, should someone ask, I told her that I got Fenrir after a burglary before I met you.”

“What? Who did you tell? Hyeji? Just her?”

Confusion colors your expression, “Yeah, why?”

“Because I told Namjoon, the guy living in twelve, that I got Fenrir.”

You shut your eyes in frustration. “Now why would you do that? And why wouldn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because it’s such a masculine dog, it wouldn’t make sense if he was yours?”

“And why is that?”

“Look, stop being a feminazi for once. He doesn’t fit your character. Sure you’re not this sweet, pretty girl in real life, but that’s who you’re trying to be here, right? It makes more sense that he’s mine.”

You press your lips together. It shouldn’t hurt what he thinks of you. “Fine, just tell me if you do something like that again.”

“Fine.”

“And we really need to hurry up and get this over with so we can leave before everything starts to crumble around us.”

You stay inside for most of the day, reluctantly showing Jeongguk the commands you use when walking Fenrir, and even letting him play soccer with him in the backyard. It’s good for your image as a couple, you begrudgingly realize, and if you’re ever confronted about the contradicting backstory of Fenrir, you’ll just say that Jeongguk’s male ego is too fragile to admit that Fenrir’s originally yours. 

Stuck inside, you wonder what you’re going to do about the food for the remainder of your stay. Yesterday, you ate what Hyeji and Eunha brought you, even though you were hesitant in case it was poisoned. Since Jeongguk disregarded your warning and seemed fine, you followed his lead.

Although frustrating you beyond belief, you realize that you might as well bite the bullet and cook for the both of you. You don’t really want to provide any type of service for Jeongguk, but at the end of the day, it’s your job. Not to be his maid–cough–wife, but to be undercover and finish this mission.

You hear the sound of paws on the kitchen floor before you hear Jeongguk’s voice.

“You know this is probably the best part so far, Mrs Jeon,” he taunts smugly. 

Turning away from the pans on the stove, you roll your eyes. At least he seems to be in a better mood. 

“First of all, I’m not a Mrs, and certainly not your Mrs. Secondly, unfortunately I have to eat, and I know you’d use the opportunity to poison me, so I might as well do it.”

“Might as well do what? Poison me?”

“No, idiot, cook. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to because you’re a grown man and surely able to feed yourself? But I don’t have very much reason to poison you. Yes, I hate you with everything in me, but how would I explain your absence? What would I do with your body?”

“Oh, there are probably plenty of things you’d do with my body.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Jeongguk, I don’t want to be anywhere near you, dead or alive.”

“Hmm, let’s say that,” he shrugs.

He does end up eating the food you serve. In a different room from you, of course.

Your heart beats quickly, and your veins are filled with anxiety as you stare at your options of dresses. The fact that even though it was your turn to sleep in the bedroom, you didn’t manage to get a good night’s rest, doesn’t help.

The barbeque is today, in a few hours actually. You haven’t spoken to Jeongguk about what he’s wearing, and you really don’t want to, treasuring the fact that you haven’t seen much of him today so far.

It’s probably best to go for cute and proper, casual yet… elegant? Something not too revealing or form fitting around the chest as well. You sigh, not having put this much effort into your looks in a while. It’s not like you have anyone to impress at work, anyway.

In the end, you settle for a light yellow dress, reaching just below your knees and with a square neckline and short sleeves. It’s cute, you think, as you hold it in your hands. It won’t look its very best on you, but it will have to do. You just hope Jeongguk will keep his mouth shut because you really don’t need it today.

Ten minutes to six, you open the front door with a large oven dish containing food in your hands, Jeongguk right behind you with a case of beer in his hand. The few sentences you’ve exchanged so far were all about the plan, and it’s placed you into some kind of bubble. 

Until Jeongguk’s voice breaks you out of it. 

“Wait,” he says, hand still on the open door when you turn around.

He’s wearing a dark blue button up shirt, the first two buttons undone, paired with black chino shorts, and it’s incredible how good he looks. The outfit brings out the darkness of his hair and eyes and shows off his impressive physique. 

You never thought someone’s knees and calves could be attractive, but that’s obviously the case when it comes to Jeongguk because you’ve found yourself glancing even at those more than once. His whole body is just so… manly. Strong and athletic. And it makes you hurl on the inside how you’re unable to stop your body from appreciating his.

He’s quiet until you take a step closer, looking up at him questioningly. “What?”

“Let your hair down.”

Instinctively, your hand flies up to feel the loose ponytail you put your hair into an hour ago, but you don’t feel any particular bumps or loose strands that would make it look weird.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Glaring at him and his non-informative answer, you shake your head. “No.”

But he doesn’t give up. “Come here,” he instructs, and you’re well aware that people could be watching you, so reluctantly, you decide to listen.

“Just trust me for once,” he looks down at you when you come to stand in front of him. Your heart starts to race when he puts the beer down to lift his hands to your head, taking the hair tie out and letting your hair fall freely. You hate that you know how he smells, and you hate that you like it.

“I don’t trust you,” you state because it’s true. The only reason you’re somewhat going along with him is because you’re outside where your neighbors could see, and they can’t witness you arguing.

If your heart was beating quickly before, it’s nothing compared to what it does when Jeongguk chooses to run his hand through your hair to fix it to how he likes. Being so close to him makes you nervous of meeting his eyes, but when his focus lies elsewhere, you chance a glance at his face. 

He looks concentrated and stern, but you notice a mole under his bottom lip that makes his entire face almost… cute. It’s disgusting, really, how kissable his mouth appears.

“It makes you look younger, more care-free,” he explains absentmindedly. “Now, you need to act well, so if you can do me a favor and hide your man-hatred for just one night.”

You hadn’t felt how your eyes had softened just a tad, but you damn well feel the glare return stronger than before.

“Excuse me, I’m a great actress,” you bite in a strained whisper. “A great detective.”

“Let’s just agree to disagree on that one,” he smiles down at you, but it’s sarcastic and full of distaste.

“Fuck you,” you mutter, stepping away from him.

The walk to the Jungs’ is a short one–it really is just on the other side of the street–but you’re clutching the oven dish tightly in your hands the whole time. You begrudgingly realize that Jeongguk is an even better actor than you thought.  

As soon as you arrive at the Jungs’ backyard, all attention is on the two of you. The new couple. All in all, there are maybe ten to twelve people gathered, most watching curiously. Jeongguk is quick to hand the beer away and then take the oven dish from you to put it down on a table filled with food and ingredients. 

After that, he doesn’t leave your side for the ten minutes it takes for everyone to greet you, his arm resting comfortably around your waist. You try your best to ignore the nerves as you’re basically held against Jeongguk’s firm body, but you’re almost sure he can feel your heartbeat through your clothes.

Remembering what he said before, you throw caution to the wind and place your hand on his abdomen. Jeongguk doesn’t react and only continues to speak with your new “friends,” and you try to act as if having your hand on his firm stomach–moving slightly under your touch with his every movement and breath–is a common occurrence.

“Awh, that’s so romantic,” Wheein exclaims when you once again tell the story of how you and Jeongguk ‘met.’ She and her two friends watch you with heart eyes, but it’s definitely mostly because of your fake husband. If only they knew the evil that resides behind that ridiculous beauty.

“Yeah, and we just knew, right, honey? Right away?”

“Yeah,” you smile up at him, and you’re almost floored by his warm smile. 

If you’ve learned anything so far, it’s that you’ve never seen him really smile before coming here, and it’s so convincing. You take notice of how dimples appear on his cheeks and how the corners of his eyes crinkle when he looks the very happiest. It’s almost jarring.

Fortunately, you can’t stay together the whole time, and Jeongguk decides to help out with the meat, seeing it as a chance to get closer to the guys. You, on the other hand, talk with some of the wives. And unsurprisingly, they just really wanna gush about your hunk of a husband.

You nod along to their fawning over Jeongguk until Hyeji calls for them from inside the house. She needs help with the food, and Wheein, cradling her practically newborn baby, holds him out for you.

“You wanna hold him a little bit for me? I’ll be right inside if you need anything, but he’ll most likely just sleep.”

It’s been a while since you held a baby, the latest being your cousin’s daughter, and she’s almost seven now, but you nod. It’ll be nice to not have to listen to Jeongguk’s new admirers for a while. Even nicer not to have to agree with them.

“Uh, sure.”

Gratefully, she hands him over and disappears into the house.

Turns out that Wheein wasn’t lying, and although Doyun isn’t asleep, he’s very calm. You spend another ten minutes easily watching the little baby in your arms, mesmerized by how incredibly adorable he is. He’s got a lot of hair for such a young baby, his entire head covered in black tresses.

“New here?”

When you look up, you’re met with an unfamiliar face. It’s a man, tall and with black hair. He must’ve just arrived.

“Uh, yeah,” you answer, “moved in just a few days ago.”

The man smiles, and you’re hit with how pretty he is, but there’s a… feeling in your stomach.

“I’m Haneul”

“Nice to meet you,” you greet, thankful for the little human occupying your arms and rendering you unavailable for a handshake.

“The pleasure’s all mine, nice to finally have some beautiful new women in town.”

“Oh, uh, I’m flattered, but unfortunately, I’m married,” you smile politely and shift Doyun around to give Haneul a glimpse of your fake ring.

He only glances at it briefly before hitting you with a lazy smirk. “‘Unfortunately,’ huh?”

Fuck. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, I love my husband.”

“Is he here?”

“Yeah,” you answer, turning your head to search for your tall, dark-haired husband. But you don’t see him at the grill, and your stomach drops. “Uh, he was there just a moment ago.”

“I see. Listen, I know a lot of husbands can be… lacking… in certain areas, and I’m having a hard time tearing my eyes off you, so I thought I should at least offer, you know?”

You hate men so fucking much, the audacity to come onto you in this manner after you already told him you were happily married? You’d also bet every penny you own that he wouldn’t have made the offer if he saw Jeongguk, because your fake husband–regardless if you’d ever admit it to anyone or even yourself–can be really imposing. He’s tall, strong, and has great posture. 

Honestly, they’re probably not even that different, Jeongguk and Haneul. At least they both seem confident and very entitled.

Your pulse races, but not in a good way, and you instinctively take a step back. You can feel the plastic case lying in your bra, but unless it is a real life or death situation, you can’t reach for it.

“Well, I’ll have to decline, and you should probably know that not a lot of husbands would appreciate your offer,” you warn politely, realizing that this is a man who won’t respect a woman’s opinion, but only her male owner’s.

You continue walking backward, smiling nicely just because you know it’s in your best interest not to cause a scene. He follows you, still with his lips pulled into that smirk. “Oh but they don’t need to know.”

Luckily, Jeongguk has returned from wherever he went, talking with the other men–Hoseok included–when you reach him.

He’s looking the other way, not having noticed you as you almost bump into him before hoisting Doyun up and holding him with one arm and carefully snaking your free one around Jeongguk’s.

“This is my husband,” you tell Haneul. At the same time, Jeongguk turns his head questioningly, looking between you and the man. 

Truthfully, it hurts you to have to come to him for any sort of help, but you guess you can at least play it off as your cover–Kim Yeji–needing him and not you. 

Certainly understanding why you’re suddenly seeking his protection, when you peer up at Jeongguk, you see his stern face observing the other man. 

Haneul only smiles apologetically and raises his hands, palms facing you.

You know that Jeongguk’s lack of pleasantries doesn’t mean that he’s angry at the guy–he’s probably only annoyed at you for interrupting his mingling–but Haneul accepts his defeat and leaves anyway. With him gone, you step away from Jeongguk, making sure it’s inconspicuous enough. 

In true Jeongguk-manner, he raises his eyebrows minimally at you, but all you do is give a little dismissive wave. 

For the few minutes it takes you to make sure Haneul isn’t lingering, you stay in Jeongguk’s proximity. Although keeping his confused aura whenever he peers over at you, there aren’t any opportunities for him to ask, and the other beer-drinking men keep him busy.

Soon enough, you find yourself at the border between the Jungs’ and the Choi’s yards, sitting down on the low stone wall dividing them. Doyun is wide awake but so well behaved and calm that he might as well have been knocked out, and you don’t even try to keep your eyes off him.

It’s not until someone sits down beside you that you look up. Surprisingly, you breathe out in relief when the brown eyes you meet belong to Jeongguk. Who would’ve thought you’d ever be relieved to see him?

“It’s going well, but unfortunately, I haven’t found out anything else of importance,” he updates you.

Realistically, you’ve always known you wouldn't be able to solve the case in an afternoon, but realizing you might be stuck here for longer than you expected makes your heart sink.

It’s quiet for a moment. Something about this cute little being on your lap lessens your anger, and you’re forced to realize that there’s just no point in overworking your heart at the moment. You can’t run, and there’s nowhere for you to hide.

“Isn’t he the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?” you ask quietly, focusing on the little being that’s still pure.

As if he didn’t see the tiny baby before, Jeongguk peers over into your lap. “Hmm, he’s pretty cute.”

Hit by another realization, you turn your head to first look at Jeongguk and then Doyun again.

“Do you have something to tell me?”

You can practically feel Jeongguk’s confusion. “What?”

“I mean, he a hundred percent looks like he could be yours,” you smile a small smile, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you think it’s mostly genuine. If someone told you two weeks ago that you’d try to make light conversation, joke even, with Jeongguk, you would’ve laughed at the insanity.

But, of course, no good deed goes unpunished, and the peace is short-lived.

“So you think I’m cute?”

“That’s definitely not what I said,” you scoff, not even sparing Jeongguk a glance.

“But it is what you meant.”

You grow quiet, not feeling a fight but unable to lie at the moment. Jeongguk just needs to ruin everything not already terrible, doesn’t he?

“So you do?”

“Jeongguk,” you sigh, holding the little boy’s hand, “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you you’re handsome.”

“No, but it’s always nice to hear,” he says, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “But honestly, you’re right, he does look a lot like me. I’m pretty sure I looked exactly like that when I was a baby.”

For some reason, you find the irritation slowly melting away once more. You’re just tired of always being angry with him, and since he’s not terribly mean at the moment, you guess you can allow yourself a little break. It’s not like he’s going to insult you and your family and then bash your head in with a rock in front of all the neighbors.

“It’s the nose, right? And the eyes—yours are also really round.”

“Yeah.”

You watch as Jeongguk offers his hand and as Doyun grips his finger. The vision of his large, tattooed hand being held by this tiny little one ignites just a little bit of warmth in your chest.

“That guy… what was up with him?”

You tear your eyes from the cuteness in front of you to peer at the side of Jeongguk’s face. He seems curious.

“I don’t know, he…”

But you just don’t have the energy to start anything. Telling Jeongguk about how men never respect you and how you hate the way they only stop when there’s another man involved will only make him roll his eyes and call you a man-hating lesbian. 

Besides, even if you think Haneul was interested in you in some way or another, you can’t tell Jeongguk that either. Although you’re well aware that men frequently only show “interest” to prove their power over you as a woman, Jeongguk will only retort that you’re being negative. He’d call you self-centered for thinking that Haneul wanted something because how would someone that pretty possibly be interested in you?

So you don’t continue your sentence. Neither does Jeongguk. 

A moment passes before he places his hands on his knees. “Well, I’m gonna head back to the guys and keep trying.”

“Yeah, me too. They’ll probably be back soon,” you nod toward the house. 

Jeongguk nods as well, “Good luck, then.”

“You too.”

The food is delicious, even if you do wait to take the first bite until everyone else has, just in case. You’re seated at the end of the table, Jeongguk on the short side with the corner between you.

It’s more difficult than you would like to admit to find a balance in eye contact, or just any contact, really. 

Ideally, you’d prefer to pretend he doesn’t exist, but he does, and you can’t seem too avoidant or there will be suspicions. 

On the other hand, if you look too much at him, he’ll for sure call you out on your obsessive behavior later, and you don't want to give him any more ammunition than he already has. He really doesn’t need to know that you don’t think you’ve ever seen a man as handsome as him before. 

Hyeji sits on your left side, turning to you often but otherwise talking animatedly to her husband Yoongi on her other side.  

Jeongguk speaks a bit with his neighbor too, but it’s not someone of importance–Hyeji’s visiting cousin. You don’t know her name but she doesn’t hide how interested she is in your “husband.” Which sort of makes you unreasonably irritated. Or maybe it isn’t so unreasonable since it makes you feel disrespected. For what she knows, Jeongguk is yours.

Luckily for you–for the mission–Jeongguk only interacts with her in a clearly platonic way, no too joyous smiles or any touches at all. Just small talk.

If it were up to you, you would’ve preferred going through the evening without as much as another word to your partner, leaving him to talk to whoever he wants, but there’s one thing that makes the hair on your arms stand up. One man.

Hoseok.

He sits on the other side of the long, rectangular table, approximately five seats away. He’s too far away for you or Jeongguk to really speak to, but that in itself doesn’t bother you too much because you don’t want to risk coming on too strong, anyway. 

What does bother you is the curious, even inspective way he turns his head to look at you. He’s a handsome man, with dark brown eyes and hair and sun-kissed skin, but he makes cold shivers run down your spine.

Without meeting his eyes, you try to appear confident and like your new friends are demanding all your attention, but whenever Hyeji turns away, you’re left to your husband.

In an attempt to at least look like you enjoy having him on this earth, you place your hand on top of his that’s resting on the table. Not executed in the smoothest way possible–a little bumpy–you still think it looks somewhat genuine.

At the action, Jeongguk turns his head to face you, but you’re already turning yours away, this time asking Hyeji where she grew up and ready to tell your own made-up childhood story. To your surprise, you feel Jeongguk turn his hand over and intertwine your fingers, and for quite some time, your hands remain like that.

“Hi! Good to get away from the others for a bit, right?”

You match Hyeji’s grin as you come to stand before her, Fenrir and her dog, Bubbles, sniffing each other. 

“Yeah, I just zone out when they start talking about sports,” you chuckle, referring to the few couples still at the Jungs’, and particularly the men. “They’re so passionate about it, too?”

“Oh, definitely! Does Jaehyun invite his friends to watch important games? Or just… all the games?” she laughs, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her in the chilly night air and taking the lead on the sidewalk.

You call for Fenrir’s attention and follow Hyeji. “Yeah, not all the games, and they’re not always at ours, but yeah, they can’t seem to watch anything alone, can they?”

“No, meanwhile I just watch my series with Bubbles, but he’s so much better company than Yoongi, honestly.”

“I can relate to that! How old is Bubbles, by the way?”

“He’ll be seven in December, so almost an old man,” she smiles fondly down at the dog who stops to pee on a neighbor’s fence. “Oops,” Hyeji smiles childishly. “What about Fenrir? How old is he?”

“He’s five.”

“He’s so big,” she marvels over the dog that dwarfs her maltese.

“Yeah. He’s made me feel a lot safer since… what happened.”

“I get that. I’m sorry that happened to you, it must’ve been awful. But at least you’ve got Fenrir and your husband too now to protect you.”

You almost laugh at the irony. If someone broke into your fake home, Jeongguk would probably serve you up on a silver platter for the burglars to take you. He’d interrupt them, only to happily offer them a knife and remind them to really stab you through the heart before they leave.

“Jaehyun is… strong and all, but I honestly think he’s a little too relaxed,” you complain, appearing worried. “Speaking of security, we’re looking to install a home alarm, but we’re not sure which one to get. Do you have any recommendations? Since you also have a dog?”

“Oh, of course! I can’t remember the name of our model, but I remember that one of our criterias was that there are no motion sensors because even though Bubbles mostly sleeps while we’re gone, we really don’t want him to trigger the alarm.”

“Exactly. So we’re looking at an alarm with just door and window sensors?”

“Yeah. I’ll look up the name of ours but I’d honestly recommend getting another brand because we have so little time to enter the code from the moment we unlock the door that it gives me half a heart attack every time.”

You chuckle at the dramatic way she clutches at her heart. “Oh, yeah, that would stress me out too.”

She tilts her head curiously. “How is Fenrir inside when he’s alone? Is he destructive?”

“No, he’s pretty good. He can bark a bit if he hears something outside and he can paw at the door sometimes, but he leaves furniture and such alone.”

“That’s good. He’s not on the windows, then?”

You pretend to think about it, already knowing that Fenrir’s very well behaved and absolutely never up to anything bad whenever he’s alone. “Hm, not that I know of? Maybe if he sees something, I’m sure he could bark and press his nose against it.”

“I’m just asking because I know you can choose an alarm that has window sensors but disable it for specific windows. Did you know that Eunha’s got a cat? He sits at this one window day in and day out, looking at the birds, but if he sees a squirrel in the tree outside, he goes crazy and basically tries to claw his way through the window.”

“Oh, really?” you exclaim curiously, grinning victoriously on the inside.

“Yeah, and their alarm isn’t connected to any kind of first responders or security company just because he sometimes decides to smash his head into any of the other windows too.”

Hyeji laughs and you chuckle along as well, although, you can definitely think of a few more reasons that the Jungs wouldn’t want any sort of authorities visiting their house.

“It just sends alerts and activates their inside cameras. Which is good if there’s a risk that your pet triggered it.”

“Oh, so you can check for yourself? That sounds smart. I’ll look into it with Jaehyun. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

To say that you get back to the Jungs’ with a little extra determination in your step is an understatement.

Jeongguk is still sitting outside at the table with the guys, their passionate voices talking about various sports and athletes sound through the summer night air. The sun set quite some time ago, the tables now only lit by candles and strings of fairy lights hanging from the few trees.

Your discovery lies heavy on your tongue, and you want to tell Jeongguk as soon as possible. He doesn’t notice you and Hyeji walking back to the table until you’re standing at his side. They’re all looking so relaxed, leaning back in the rattan armchairs.

“Hey, uh, honey? I think I’m gonna head back home. It’s getting late, and I’m getting tired.”

He looks up at you and then to Fenrir who sits behind you patiently.

“Oh, already?”

You can tell by his eyes that he wants to stay to work on his own connections, but you feel like the best tactic is to take it slowly and not push too much. Additionally, you’ve already found a huge lead.

The voices are still loud as Jeongguk’s new friends discuss a particular game from five years ago, a few of the remaining wives having gathered at the other end of the table and talking animatedly to each other about something. Hyeji joins them with Bubbles on her lap.

So you make sure no one’s watching too closely, and you lean down.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper in Jeongguk’s ear.

He pulls back to look at you questioningly, still reluctant to leave so you gesture with your hand for him to lean back in.

“I think I found our way in.”

But the moment after you say it, your gaze travels carefully over the other neighbors and lands on the eyes of Hoseok himself. He’s watching you with something unclear in his gaze.

In a slight panic, you recall the chief’s words, and with no time to second guess yourself, you slide your hand down Jeongguk’s chest, mindlessly toying with the first thing you feel, which happens to be the third button. It’s the first one that’s actually buttoned, and perhaps unfortunately, it accidentally opens under your touch.

“He’s watching,” you explain quietly but rushed into Jeongguk’s ear, and to make sure your act is believable, you press your lips against his cheek and with your other hand coming up on the other side of his face from behind, you tangle your fingers carefully in his hair.

Truthfully, you don’t think Jeongguk minds, otherwise you would’ve definitely been more careful. Well, he’ll probably spend an hour in the shower when you get back, scrubbing his body free from your touch, but he allows it, even encourages it since it’s vital to the mission. 

Along with what the chief said about needing to look in love, Jeongguk’s own words from the first day ring in your head.

“Touch me like you love me” 

Or something like that. So you definitely have his permission.

What shouldn’t surprise you but still does is when he raises his hand to cover yours on his chest, sliding it to the side, underneath the fabric of his half-open shirt.

You let out a shaky breath against the side of his face, hoping, most likely in vain, that he doesn’t notice. His hand is warm over yours, and his chest under your palm is too. The heartbeat you feel is just your own, pulsing through your entire body and to your hand, not his, even though your hand is basically right above it. You honestly aren’t sure he has a heart.

Although knowing you’d see more of him than you ideally wanted, you wouldn’t have guessed that you’d essentially be feeling him up in public like this, but honestly, his body isn’t the problem. 

Somewhere in your mind, you’re already dreading having to sooner or later look him in the eye.

Surprising you even more, you feel his other arm wrap around your waist, somehow tugging you, gasping, onto his lap.

Ending up sitting sideways over his thighs, you decide to make the best out of the situation and look relaxed, leaning back against him. You don’t check if Hoseok’s still watching, but you’d rather play it safe than make him suspect something.

“Did I tell you how pretty you look today? My little wife.”

You try your best to conceal your surprise, but you still feel your eyes widen a tad at Jeongguk’s quiet words. And of course, your cheeks start to heat up even more than before. 

Yeah, you guess that Hoseok must still be watching.

Looking at Jeongguk, meeting his eyes, you almost lose your breath and the leash still grasped in your hand. You get why the chief sent him. 

Jeongguk is probably the officer that hates you the most out of everyone, yet he has no problem gazing up at you like you're his entire world. It’s not that much of a surprise that he’s a god damn talented actor because he’s just good at everything.

You’re in no position to do anything but play along, and you don’t really want to admit it to yourself, but after today and at that specific moment, it doesn’t seem that terrible. 

At first, you’re extremely aware of every little area where you and him are touching, even through your clothes. You’re aware of your breathing and his–both slow and calm, but his feeling just a tad bit more naturally unaffected than yours.

But his embrace is soft yet sturdy, and he has the audacity to slowly and softly rub your back and sometimes your shoulder. Ten minutes pass just like that.

And you’re tired. So incredibly exhausted. You’ve barely slept at all, and strangely enough, you don’t feel threatened at the moment despite being surrounded by dangerous people.

So you drift off. Right then and there, in the arms of the man that despises your very being–your head resting right by his neck–and in the backyard of one of the country’s most accomplished robbers. One of them will for sure be the death of you, and you don't think it will be Hoseok.

<previous | next>

There’s no time for you to ask questions before the chief opens the dark wooden door located at the back of the room and motions for you to enter his personal office first.

You do, but the sight of what’s inside nearly causes you to stop and the chief to bump into you from behind. The sight of who’s inside.

Jeon.

“Are you kidding,” you hear him mutter under his breath, and it’s obviously not because he’s so elated that his detective is you. No, it’s because he despises you.

Disgusted eyes burn holes in the side of your face as you follow the chief's command and sit down next to your colleague from another division.

The tension definitely doesn't go unnoticed, but Jeon Jeongguk isn't an exception; you know that all male officers feel more or less the same way about you. It's the reason that the tension goes unmentioned and why you’d hoped for your usual female detective partner to sit there.

"Where's Jihyo? I assumed we'd work together as usual," you question, ignoring your own annoyance and the immature man next to you, who you know is doing his best to let you know just how much you appall him purely by facial expression. 

"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. Not only has the chief dismissed a really important case that you’ve been trying to get flying for a long time, but you’re supposed to play… spouses? Unfortunately, you know better than to anger the chief more than necessary, so you focus on suffocating the most urgent fire.

"I'm sure that's not needed," you argue calmly, attempting to sound like the more mature one in the room. "One of us could go alone, or I could go with Sana? People are much more accepting of same-sex couples nowadays."

"Of course, you man-hating lesbian."

"Oh, grow up, you fucking child,” you bite in Jeon’s direction before returning your hopeful (and desperate) eyes to the chief. “She and I could be roommates? Cousins?"

"Stop it," the chief warns half a second before you can suggest acquaintances, and it’s easy to see that the slightly above middle-aged man feels like he's talking to two preschoolers. 

"Look, I'm not going to argue about this. We don't send anyone out alone, you know that,” he berates lazily from behind his desk with a pen pointed in your direction.Rumor has it that he’s set to retire in a few months, and you’re sure he’s looking forward to it more than ever at that moment.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You two are newly-weds, moving in basically across from the Jungs. It's a bit of a religious neighborhood, but like, weirdly so, so you'll be a housewife and Jeon a lawyer. It allows you to stay home during the days to get to know the neighbors, and Jeon can say he's taken a week or two off to help settle in."

Your jaw clenches as the details keep coming, and you know, without even looking, that even if he’s just as upset as you are, at least your "professions" are amusing to Jeongguk. He’s probably even smirking.

“What about him then?” you question, nodding toward Jeongguk while keeping eye contact with the chief, “He’s got his whole arm covered in tattoos, won’t that be a problem?”

“No, a lot of the suspects have them too, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh, so it’s only a trip back in time for women, got it,” you seethe. It can't get any worse than this.

The chief ignores your comment, "Look, this is what we've deemed the most inconspicuous; a young, married, heterosexual couple. You'll blend right in, and being recently married, it'll give you an excuse to seem a little… distant."

You understand perfectly well what he’s implying, but you can't help but question it. "And what does that mean?"

The chief sighs and lowers his head a little, "It means that you two need to put on your happy faces and act like you're madly in love and like keeping your hands off each other is harder than the donuts Officer Kim brings on Tuesdays. That way, sneaking off together and whispering in each other’s ears, as well as a missed neighborhood barbeque or two, might go unnoticed. Or at least seem… well, inconspicuous."

A scoff sounds from beside you. "I don't get why I have to be the one to go with her? Isn't there another detective to do all that pretend lovey-dovey shit with her?"

Apparently, that's the thing that really upsets Jeongguk, and even though you find him self-centered and immature, it still hurts a little to know that even fake being in love with you is unmentionable.

"No. Like I said, I won't argue. Time is of the essence here; I need a man and a woman that can pass as a couple and work together. You're a great officer, and she's a great detective."

"You sure about that? And what about my safety, then? I don't want to "accidentally" get shot because I'm a man and she feels inferior to me!"

Ah, there it is. The reason you're so insanely disliked. A mission ends with a gunshot wound to the thigh of your former detective partner–now officer and Jeon’s best friend–and suddenly everything’s your fault and everyone’s turned against you. It wasn’t your fault, and it’s not like you ever wanted or planned for it to end that way!

For the first time, you turn your head to really look at the man beside you, your glare powered by years of anger and frustration. His face is flushed, revealing just how irritated this whole ordeal is making him.

In another universe, one in which men don't have personalities, you'd for sure want him. There's no denying the attractiveness that oozes from him, but masculinity is both a blessing and a curse.

He's gorgeous, raven hair parted to expose his just as dark eyebrows and his forehead. He’s got cheekbones and a jaw from another world, and it looks like he's wearing the black pants of his uniform but has foregone the shirt in favor of a dark blue sweatshirt with the police academy's print on it. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his veiny forearms–one of which tattooed– and hands are on display, and it's hot.

He's hot. Intimidating and hot. 

But he's also so… mean. So spoiled and entitled and just such a man. It’s been less than a year, maybe eight months or so, since he transferred from another district, and during those months, you've never spoken more than a few sentences to each other.

Still, you’ve known of him since before he even put his foot in the building, his reputation preceding him. Unfortunately, he's one of the best officers to grace this part of the country in a long time; his accomplishments piling up like golden trophies.

It's harder to measure for a field officer, still, the dude has an unbelievable rate of cleared and successful cases, surprisingly few complaints made against him, and the fitness competitions held every year among the officers are just another opportunity for him to improve his previous impressive record. He could probably bench five times your bodyweight and kick in whichever steel-reinforced door he wants. Everything turns to gold underneath his skilled fingertips, and it makes it all exponentially worse.

Perhaps he deserves some of the praise, but you still stand by the fact that Jeongguk is spoiled and entitled and just such a man. Almost all the males inside this building are. Pumped full of the worst kind of drug, produced by their own body—testosterone—and you're so fucking tired of it. 

Before you can defend yourself, bite back that he needs to shut the fuck up, you're interrupted.

"She's still not allowed to carry,” the chief clarifies calmly. “You've done mostly field, and she's done investigating. You'll work together, combine your strengths and eliminate your weaknesses. Okay?"

"Fine," you huff, "but I'm bringing my dog."

When you leave the room—Jeongguk exiting behind you only to be greeted by another male officer—you hear it.

“You’ll put her in her place, right, Jeon? Put an end to all of this and show her it’s a man’s world she’s living in?”

“Of course,” he replies just as confidently, “I’ll show her.”

And you know you might as well start writing your will.

Three days later, you’re sulking in the passenger seat of a sleek black car, being driven by none other than Jeon Jeongguk himself. It’s not his personal car, and it for sure doesn’t belong to you; yours is still at the repair shop where it’s been for faulty brakes three times in the last six months. 

You wanted to drive, but apparently, your fake new neighbors are so sexist that you can’t be seen stepping out of a car after driving your “husband” around. Because everyone knows driving is a man’s job, right?

Jeongguk has a big suitcase in the backseat. You have two, one containing clothes and whatever you need for your stay and another that holds food and other dog stuff. In the actual trunk, inside a crate–because you value his safety over everything–your Doberman sits.

You don’t know much about the house except that it’s big and mostly empty. The basic furniture has apparently already been moved there yesterday, but the rest of “your” furniture and possessions are scheduled to arrive within the next few days.

Ideally, you’ll manage to solve the case before the moving trucks pull up, sparing you the work of hauling heavy objects inside when you know it’s just for show and that someone’s gonna want them back eventually. If that happens anyway, you’re already contemplating leaving it to Jeongguk since he wants to be the man so badly. He’s obviously not happy about being partnered with you, but it at least brings him joy to see you have it worse. Except for having to be around you, he’s living the dream, getting to be a lawyer and have a housewife to be serviced by.

Among the chief's instructions is a dress code, and so today, Jeongguk is wearing black slacks and a white, crispy button-up shirt while you’re wearing a dark blue off-the-shoulder sundress. Unsurprisingly, you need to look put-together at all times which makes you hate your new fake neighbors even before meeting them. Well, a few of them are suspected to be some of the most successful bank robbers in the country’s history, but besides that.

The thought makes you huff quietly, and even with your gaze out the windshield, you see from the corner of your eye how Jeongguk glances at you. Probably giving you more of a glare, if you’re being honest.

There hasn’t been much going on conversation-wise either. The arguing of who was to drive happened an hour ago, and after that, you’ve laid a few comments on his choice of roads, and he’s answered them with just as much attitude as you’ve muttered them. You see this adventure ending in one or two ways–you and Jeongguk becoming friends isn’t one of them.

At five p.m., you pull up in front of your new house, and at first glance, it’s lovely. The entire neighborhood is. Big, pristine houses painted in white with green, mowed lawns and backyards, and white Picket fences. Your house is no different.

When the engine’s silenced and the key in Jeongguk’s right palm, you start feeling nervous. But you can’t let him know, so you focus on the task at hand. 

Your hands are a little sweaty, and to lessen the tremors, your fingers play with the diamond on your ring finger. It’s fake, but they’re done so well these days that even a professional would have a hard time differentiating. There’s a ring decorating Jeongguk’s finger too, a gold wedding band that you have to admit really suits his brand. 

Another thing he has with him is a gun, something you’re not allowed. But joke’s on anyone who thinks you’d willingly go unarmed. You have razor blades with you, sometimes a blade lies in your bra, protected in a plastic case. Other times, it’s strapped to your thigh. Like now.

As soon as you open the car door and step out with a fake smile on your face, you head to the trunk to get Fenrir. It’s unnerving how you can see your closest neighbors peeking out through their windows already, and you know instantly what kind of neighborhood this is. The brown Doberman jumps out, wagging his undocked tail and stretching after the drive.

“Since people are watching,” you hear Jeongguk from behind you. When you turn around, you almost lose your breath.

As he’s grabbing your bags to carry them inside, he’s wearing a smile that looks so incredibly genuine you’re almost left speechless. But of course, you can tell by his gritted words that he’d gladly let you carry them yourself if there weren’t witnesses. Actually, if no one was around to see, he’d probably just deck you with one of them.

“Fuck you, I can bring them myself,” you mutter through a sweet smile of your own, head tilted slightly.

“Just go inside before anyone can come here and start interrogating us, we still have things to go through.”

“Fine,” you snap, and together with Fenrir, you walk toward the entrance, unlocking it.

Jeongguk isn’t far behind, dumping your bags by the door that he closes behind him before turning to you.

You’ve gone through a few things regarding your disguise, but a lot of details still need to be agreed on.

Jeongguk is Kim Jaehyun and you’re Kim Yeji, high school sweethearts that married just a few months ago. The honeymoon was set in Paris at Jeongguk’s request, making you roll your eyes at the laziness. Jaehyun is just such a romantic.

But only a few minutes after the door is closed, a gentle but firm knock is placed on it. You exchange somewhat panicked looks with Jeongguk before inhaling and exhaling deeply and reaching for the door.

On the other side, dressed in colorful blouses and flowy skirts and with a plastic container each, two women stand.

“Hi,” you start, trying to channel your shy but polite inner housewife.

“Hello! Welcome to the neighborhood!” one exclaims happily, nudging the other subtly with her elbow.

“Yes, hello! Such a surprise to see new neighbors already! I’m Jung Eunha and this is Min Hyeji, we live just across the street. Or at least I do, Hyeji is your next door neighbor!” she nods toward the other woman.

“Oh, uh, nice to meet you,” you greet, hoping that the discomfort behind your smile isn’t visible. “I’m Kim Yeji, and this is my husband Jaehyun.”

Improvising, you turn around hastily and go to… well, touch him somehow, but he’s closer than you expected and so your hand bumps into his shoulder, and you just… keep it there somewhat awkwardly before slowly dropping it.

“Nice to meet you,” Jeongguk starts, his focus laying beyond you. “Yeah, we’ve been looking for a new home for a while, and when we saw this, we just fell in love immediately. Such potential and with a really nice neighborhood.”

“Yes,” Hyeji smiles proudly, “Perfect for when you get little ones!”

You feel yourself hurling on the inside, disgusted by the thought of having kids with someone as vile as Jeongguk, but he manages to keep his cool even though you assume he’s taken by surprise as well. How can they already know that you don’t have children? Unless they really supervised your entire arrival?

“Yeah, we’re not really there yet, but I agree; it’ll be perfect for our future kids, right, honey?”

He looks down at you. They all look at you.

Honey.

“Oh, yeah, absolutely!” you smile, trying to blink away the image of your archnemesis gazing at you so fondly. You would’ve never guessed it, but when they’re not overflowing with murderous disgust, Jeon Jeongguk has the prettiest brown eyes. Soft, brown eyes.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you, but we gotta run. Here are some cookies,” Eunha excuses, taking a step closer to push her container in your hands. Hyeji follows, stacking hers on top. “We’ll see you around soon!”

And then, they’re gone, and the door’s closed.

You remain silent for a moment, just to make sure no one’s lingering and hearing stuff they’re not supposed to.

“Dude, what was that?” Jeongguk asks, and when you meet his eyes this time, the softness is gone, traded back for that familiar hatred.

“What?” you question with an irritated whisper, still paranoid the women might stand with their ears pressed against the door.

“I thought you were supposed to be a good actress?! Yet you touched me like I was your new colleague? ‘H-hi, I’m K-kim Y-yeji and th-this is m-my husband J-Jaehyun.’”

“Shut the fuck up,” you grit, walking away to place the containers on the kitchen counter.

“Maybe you don’t understand, I wouldn’t expect you to, but we need them to believe us. Either you touch me like you love me or you don’t touch me at all.”

After a few more digs at each other, you split up. Jeongguk disappears somewhere further into the house while you unpack Fenrir’s bowls, the gifted containers left on the counter. The big dog follows you closely to the kitchen sink, propping his snout in between you and the counter and hoping you’ll fill his bowl with something tasty.

“No food now,” you explain, setting the water-filled bowl down in an appropriate spot in the kitchen. “There you go, you must be thirsty.”

Although surely disappointed, Fenrir sniffs at the bowl before lapping at the water. You take a step back, watching him with a crease of worry between your eyebrows.

This whole arrangement has you incredibly nervous. You’re used to spying on people and such, but it’s usually just... observing. Many times, you’re seated inside a car with binoculars, or you’re tailing someone through the mall. Rarely, you even have to talk to the suspects, and now? You’re living next door to them, trying to get to know them.

You don’t even know what’s worse; living in the house next to your enemy, or living with your enemy. For all you know, Jeongguk might suffocate you in your sleep with a pillow over your face before the armed robbers even get the chance at taking you out.

“You’re the only man I can trust,” you coo, scratching Fenrir behind his ear when he approaches, a few leftover water drops making it onto your dress.

But with a sigh, you accept the fact that you’re stranded in the house for the coming days, and so you might as well follow your partner’s lead and look around.

It’s a nice house, you conclude. Not the very biggest, but still spacious enough. On the ground floor, there’s the kitchen, a dining area, and living room, all equipped with the basic necessities.

The dining area has a large dining table and eight chairs surrounding it, and the living room harbors a huge, gray couch and a very nice wooden coffee table. A wooly blanket hangs over one of the armrests, and a huge tv is mounted on the wall opposite the couch. 

What you don’t necessarily like is the fact that it’s... open. There aren’t really any separating walls except for around the kitchen, which means that if you need to hide from someone, you can’t. Well, maybe you can lock yourself in the bathroom, and hopefully, the bedrooms also have doors with locks.

The stairs creak a little under your feet, and you definitely take notice of it as you climb them to check out what’s upstairs.

To your surprise, the first thing you see is Jeongguk’s back. Confusion sets in as you watch him. He’s looking inside one of the two bedrooms, frozen with his hand on the handle.

You approach carefully, not sure you want to one; be so close to him, and two; know what’s gotten him so... confused? Confounded? Surprised?

Maintaining as much distance as possible, you peek inside. But it’s just a room? You can’t see the entirety of it since you’re not about to squeeze yourself through the doorway with Jeongguk still in it, but it looks… normal? Nice, actually.

There’s a queen-sized bed placed against the cream colored wall, drowned in beige linen bedding with an oak nightstand on each side. On the opposite side, to your left, there are doors leading to a built-in closet, an oak dresser, and a gray, empty plant pot, standing in the corner.

“You... like this one, or…?” you turn your head to glance toward the other door, leading to the other, unexplored, bedroom. 

You don’t want to let him choose before you’ve seen both because you know he’d rather die than give you the better one without a fight, and you’re not about to sleep in a bed covered in rat shit or something.

But before you can even walk toward that other door, Jeongguk opens his mouth.

“Yeah, well I have to, since this is the only room with a bed.”

At his surprisingly casual words, your heart drops. No. That can’t be true. Your steps are quick, and when you glide the door open, you curse to yourself. The room is empty, completely barren.

With your hand still on the handle, you turn your head toward Jeongguk, horrified. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“And you think I’d wanna fuck that?” he snaps, eyeing your body with disgust. 

You hate him, you really fucking hate him, and you wish his words didn’t mean anything to you, but they do. The dress you’re wearing makes you uncomfortable, it makes you feel vulnerable under his gaze, and you wish you were allowed to wear your own comfortable clothes and not the ones given to you.

It’s beautiful, it really is, but you loathe that it leaves your shoulders, arms, and lower legs exposed. You hate that you’re supposed to be pretty for your ‘husband’ and even other men, and you hate that they always have to look, that they have to judge. Your value as a woman lies in the way you look, you learned that at a young age just like everyone else, and you hate it. You just don’t wanna be perceived.

Despite already being well aware that the number of men willing to date you would be close to zero—if you’d even want to date, that is—you feel like he’s stabbed you right through the heart.

It especially hurts because he’s so goddamn beautiful, so of course, you respond with the usual anger. “I didn’t mean it like that, you fucking idiot, but yeah, the feeling’s mutual.”

Briefly, you see how Jeongguk rolls his eyes before he lets go of the door and steps back. “So what do we do? I’m not sleeping next to you; I heard you carry a knife wherever you go.”

Well, it’s not technically a knife, but he might as well continue believing that. “Yeah, well there are men everywhere I go? And don’t tell me you’re stupid enough to believe I’d come here unarmed?” you question. How many brain cells does he have? One? “And there’s a couch, so I suggest one of us just takes that.”

You glare at each other. He knows, just as well as you do, that no one is going to volunteer. “Fine. We’ll take turns.”

Sleeping on a couch isn’t necessarily the worst thing that could happen, you just don’t want to sleep out in the living room and feel so exposed and vulnerable. But you’re also tired, fighting with Jeongguk has taken so much of your energy already, and by the looks of it—of him—he’s not gonna give in very easily.

You sigh and roll your eyes, “Fine, you can take the first night.”

He smirks victoriously, immediately going downstairs to retrieve his suitcase to unpack his clothes. Since a neighbor could visit literally any second, you need to be able to keep the act up inside the house as well, and so, as soon as Jeongguk is finished unpacking his clothes, you bring yours. And you hate seeing them hang next to his in the closet, just like you hate him.

Just a few hours after your arrival, there are more knocks on your front door. You’re upstairs when you hear it, descending the stairs to see Jeongguk at the door, talking to one of the women from earlier with a small bouquet in his hand. Eunha.

“We’d love it if—oh, hello again!” she greets when you come to stand next to him. “I was just telling your husband about the barbeque we’re throwing on Saturday! You’re more than welcome to join us if you want. Get to know your neighbors and all that,” she smiles excitedly.

“Well, we can’t pass up an opportunity like that,” Jeongguk chuckles, “Right, honey?”

You’ll never get used to it. The way he looks down at you so fondly, with warm brown eyes and a sweet smile. It both melts your heart and sends an ice cold shiver down your spine.

“Yeah, no, of course,” you smile, looking forward as you try to ignore Jeongguk wrapping his arm around your waist.

Meanwhile Eunha just watches the two of you with heart eyes, smiling when you meet her gaze. “We’ll bring meat of some kind, some... chicken? Maybe?”

“Great idea, and some beer,” Jeongguk adds, finally tearing his eyes from the side of your face. You breathe out. He’s just so intimidating, no less when he’s as close as he is, his disguised scrutinizing gaze on your face and his warm hand on your waist.

“Great, see you then!” she nods, taking a few steps back.

“See you, and thanks again for the flowers,” Jeongguk grins before closing the door and thrusting the bouquet in your hands.

“Excuse me?”

“Be of use and trim the stems and put them in water.”

“There are few people ruder than you, Jeon Jeongguk,” you hiss quietly. “Very few people I hate more.”

“It’s not as if you’re very liked, so go ahead,” he scoffs.

Asshole, you think, but still move toward the kitchen with the flowers in hand. They’re actually very pretty, and you turn the bouquet around to admire them. You’re not very familiar with the different sorts of flowers, and the only kind you can identify are daisies. They’re  blended together with other kinds in a variety of colors and sizes. There are light yellow ones, pink ones, and a few tall, blue ones. You especially like those blue ones.

Trim the stems and put them in water, Jeongguk said. You open a drawer in search of some scissors and find a pair that looks like they could get the job done.

Then you start cutting. It’s harder than you thought; the stems are much thicker and the scissors aren’t sharp enough.

What you don’t notice is Jeongguk, standing behind you and peering down over your shoulder.

“Oh my God, step aside,” he exclaims in annoyance, making you jump. Before you know it, he’s grabbed a knife from a drawer and pushed you to the side. “Have you never gotten flowers or what?”

You back away, scissors lowered uselessly. “Shut the fuck up, you idiot.”

“So, you haven’t?” he taunts, “I don’t know why I’m surprised, flowers are for pretty girls after all.”

Lips pressed together in frustration and humiliation, you watch his back as he finishes the job, clearly happy with his remarks.

You hate it so much, how there’s nothing for you to retort with. Jeon Jeongguk is gorgeous, he’s smart, and he’s talented. He learns a new skill in the blink of an eye, and can get anyone to like him. And the worst part is that he’s very aware of it. He knows he’s unmatched, and there’s nothing you can say that would hurt him.

“I hope you get kicked so hard in the balls that they rupture.”

Jeongguk winces slightly at your words, not long before he rummages through another cupboard and produces a glass vase to store the flowers in. “Rough,” he comments, and you roll your eyes.

“By the way, you know that dress looks horrible on you? You don’t have the tits for it.”

You swallow, feeling your heart break further and your confidence that’s already ninety percent anger, crumble. You feel even uglier around him than usual, humiliated to have to be perceived.

More than anything, you wish that you could just rip your clothes out of that closet, stuff them into your suitcase, take Fenrir, and go the fuck home, but you can’t. You know you’re one misstep away from being fired, and you wouldn’t exactly get the best of recommendation letters with as much shit as you’ve accidentally stirred up. Not that it was your fault. Still, no one in your field is going to hire you, so it’s better to stay, even if that means Jeon Jeongguk will be the death of you.

“We need to plan,” you mutter, subconsciously folding your arms over your chest to hide yourself. “The barbeque is in two days.”

Jeongguk carries the vase to the dining table and sets it down in the middle before turning to you. You make sure to maintain enough distance and focus your eyes on his face and not the way he’s leaning back against the table–his weight supported by his arms–or the way his shirt strains over his chest. Ridiculous how he can be so pretty but so vile.

At least you’re relieved that he seemingly turns his professional mode on as he bites his lip, thinking.

“Well, we know the ultimate goal is to—”

“—Get inside the Jungs’ house.”

“Yes,” Jeongguk agrees. “We need to figure out a way to get inside the house so we can bug it. That’s gonna be the best chance, and hopefully, we’ll get some kind of confession. Maybe they’ll even lead us to the money.”

It takes you ten minutes to plan for the next two days. It’s a bit rough, mostly open to let you see what happens and adjust accordingly, but it’s a good start.

In forty-eight hours, give or take, you’ll show up at the Jungs’ house for the barbeque. You have a feeling Jung Eunha isn’t that involved in her husband’s criminal adventures, but she could be sitting on valuable information. If not about the heists or money, then at least on how to get inside their house. 

So, your focus lies on her and the other wives, while Jeongguk will try to get close to the men, and thus, Jung Hoseok, himself.

You pack away the blue dress.

<previous | next>

It's true, you hadn't texted Jungkook over the weekend nor replied to his messages. He just wanted to make sure that you got to your family safely but you just wanted a weekend without having to deal with Jungkook.

"Is having a conversation to apologise to you on the menu for today?" he asks, eyebrows raised in anticipation.

You'd like to answer no but when you look at Nabi's smiling face, who is strapped against Jungkook's chest, you realise that you two are in need for a conversation.

So you sigh, turning to Jimin who was  refilling the showcase with fresh pastries. "Can you cover me for a sec, Jimin?"

Wiping his hands off on his apron, he nods. "Sure." His gaze changes a little when he takes sight of Jungkook but nevertheless, he doesn't say anything.

You sit down a small table close to the cash register. Jungkook sits in front of you, a worried look on his face. In contrary to that, Nabi is happily gurgling with her tiny fist in her mouth.

"First of all, I know that I haven't been the best friend. I acted like an idiot and I am so sorry for that."

You wait for him to continue, arms folded.

"I just thought that I could have a little of my old life back and while doing that I kinda forgot all my responsibilities."

"Do you realise how irresponsible that is of you? Jungkook, the shit you pulled makes me actually doubt your abilities to be a dad." It's like pouring salt in the wound. Jungkook had doubted being a good dad from the beginning. It took him long conversations with you to realise that he just had to come accustomed to fatherhood, learn everything step by step.

He looks hurt, grimacing a little at your taunt.

"I'm sorry for last week. I even told Areum that I have to get Nabi a little earlier but then I forgot because - "

"Because you were too busy fucking your girlfriend, I know, but Jungkook - this isn't how you should treat someone who offers to take care of your baby. I didn't have much time that day and you still didn't care. You didn't even check your phone when I was calling you for I don't know how many times." You huff, leaning back. Talking about his behaviour over the past two weeks is riling you up.

"It was on silent," he says quietly, patting the back of Nabi's head.

You furrow your brows. "Why the hell would you put your phone on silent? What if something bad had happened to Nabi and I needed you to come? Jungkook you're -" You stop, sighing heavily. "You're frustrating me."

"I know, I said the same thing to -" he stops, mumbling something to himself. "You're right, I shouldn't have done that," he says defeated. He looks down at Nabi when her tiny fist grabs his pullover, a sound that comes close to complaint bubbling from her lips.

"I mean, you can still have your fun, Jungkook. It's not like just because you have a baby you can't live your life like you used to. But you can't just drop Nabi off at my place and then forget about me."

It's like Nabi knows that you're talking about her. She turns her head and a little smile adorns her face. Your eyes grow soft at her sight but you're still too upset to give her the attention she wants from you.

Looking back at Jungkook you say,  "I don't need to help you when all the thanks I get for being kind is getting treated like that." Your voice is small now, the anger is still storming inside you but you can't hide the fact that Jungkook's behaviour has also made you feel aggrieved and hurt.

"I swear, this won't ever happen again," Jungkook promises. You can see the sincerity in his eyes but it won't make the ache go away.

"I really want to be there for you Jungkook, but I can't do that all the time. I love Nabi, but she isn't my responsibility."

Nabi lays her cheek against Jungkook's chest, a little scowl displayed on her face.

"I know, and you've been so helpful to me, y/n. I...I know that I am bad at showing you my gratitude, especially in the last few weeks, but I'm so thankful to you." When you rest your hands on the table Jungkook is quick to grasp one with his hand, thumb rubbing over the back of your hand. "You've done a lot for me and...I should've showed you that, my thankfulness I mean. Its not natural for you to do all of this for me. And I should've been more vocal about my appreciation." He squeezes your hand and it feels like your hearts gets a squeeze as well. "I won't ever treat you like that again, I promise."

Hearing his sweet words and apologies while looking into his doe eyes is too much for you. You avert your gaze to the back and notice Jimin staring at the both of you. His eyes eventually flick down to Jungkook's hand enclosing yours. You can't read the expression on his face. Jimin turns his head when a new customers arrives.

"Maybe...Maybe it's time to look for an actual babysitter." The memory of his girlfriend calling you babysitter still fresh in your head.

Jungkook runs his fingers through his dark, fluffy hair.

"Fuck, y/n. I swear, after you left I told Areum that you're not the babysitter. She knows that you're my best friend now. She just assumed that you are the babysitter because I never properly talked about you, she didn't mean anything bad by saying that."

"It's okay, really, I don't want to talk about her." If he's curious as to why you don't want to talk about her, he doesn't show it.

"I'll look for a babysitter. It's about time now I think." You know that the reason he hasn't done this before is because he doesn't trust anyone. He has other friends as well, but they're all male and are barely able to cook themselves a proper meal every day. Jungkook would never leave Nabi alone with any of them.

"I can help you with that," you offer.

"I've got this." As soon as Jungkook will get home he'll search the whole internet for the perfect babysitter in town. "Are you still mad at me?" he asks, playing with the dainty rings on your hand.

"A little," you answer truthfully.

"I'll make it up to you," Jungkook assures.

"I think I have to get back to work." The queue was getting longer and Jimin still had to get done with his job.

Nabi whines, her lips formed into a pout. You hear Jungkook mumbling and cooing at Nabi as you stand up. Bopping her nose and squishing her cheeks has Nabi smiling and giggling again. You heart warms when you hear Nabi's adorable squeaks.

You feel a little bad for saying that you doubt Jungkook's skills as a dad. You really shouldn't have said something about a topic he is already insecure about.

Jungkook stands up as well. "Want a cookie?" he asks, thumb pointing at the back.

"Sure."

Main Parts:

Part 1: Strawberries

Part 2: Honey

Part 3: Milk

Part 4: Cream [1/2] [2/2)

Part 5:

Side Content:

Ask: Yoongi spoiling MC

Drabble: Yoongi brushing MC's tail

Drabble: MC cuddling with Kook

Drabble: MC getting scared by a bug

Drabble: Just Jungkook doing dog things

Drabble: MC making kook feel better

Drabble: Jimin realizing MC has felt abandoned

Drabble: Yoongi scolding MC

Drabble: Aftermath of Yoongi scolding MC

Drabble: MC not taken seriously except by kook