#when i chivalrously helped a girl who was locked out of my apartment building and then proceeded to open the metal door into my temple
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A Very Colin Christmas - Colin Shea x reader
Ch.1 - The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year
a/n - hey lovely people!! i’m so incredibly excited to finally share this series with you! this chapter is a bit shorter than the others as it’s more of a prologue / teaser even, but i hope you enjoy it! see you tomorrow with the next one (seriously, you have no idea how giddy i am that i can have consistent updates). enjoy!!<3
Summary: You were just doing your holiday shopping when you stumbled upon your neighbor. Friend. Crush? Oh, you weren’t going to label it right now... But he did ask for a favor. And it’s the holidays, so why not help him out?
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: a few curse words, thirst / innuendos (c’mon, it’s colin!)
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You went up the stairs to your apartment, struggling to keep the many shopping bags you were carrying in your grasp. One of them fell and tumbled to the bottom of the flight of stairs, stopping once it reached the bottom. You sighed and went back down, reaching down to try and grab it but instead the other bags in your hand fell from your grasp as well, scattering on the floor.
"Ugh," you groaned and started to get them all back in your hand. Sometimes you wondered why you knew so many people, and Christmas time was definitely one of these times. Coming back from a present shopping spree, you just wished to just lay down and do nothing after a whole day of running around. But apparently, you thought when you saw who was coming up the stairs, I'm not wishing hard enough.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing here this fine evening?" Colin, your next-door neighbor said in an amused tone.
"Fuck you," you said, annoyed. On some days, Colin's banter was actually funny. And he was extremely easy on the eyes, and when around his apartment, usually very close to naked, so there was that. But right now, you couldn't deal with him, and he was dressed, which wasn't helping his case.
"Is that a request? Because you know I'd be up for it, sweetheart," he smirked and you rolled your eyes so far into your head you thought they might get stuck. "But seriously," he continued, "do you need help with these?"
You were surprised at his sudden show of altruism, but you could use the help, and he was going up to your floor anyway. "Yeah, I guess if you could help me grab these bags it'd be great," you replied and gestured to the bags on the floor.
"Well, if it makes you drop the attitude I'll gladly help," Colin smiled cheekily and picked up the bags in one hand, extending the other towards you. You didn't take it, just smiled and rolled your eyes once more. He put the hand to his chest, feigning hurt, which made you chuckle.
The thing about Colin and you was that when you first came to the building, you had a huge crush on him pretty much from the moment you saw him. And well, no one could blame you, since the first time you saw him, he was standing just outside his apartment door wearing nothing but a towel covering his crotch and his whole sculpted-by-the-gods body on display.
He made you laugh, he was passionate, he was fun. He seemed almost too good to be true until you found out he was an absolute jerk to women he sleeps with when one morning he knocked on your apartment door, seeking shelter from his latest one-night-stand. So since then, you vowed to never get involved with Colin in any way more than a friendship. The risk to get hurt was simply not worth it. So, you were acquaintances, neighbors, friends at best, but that's it.
You reached your floor and you reached for your keys in your back pocket. But both of your hands were still full of bags, so you couldn't properly grab your keys.
"Let me help you with that," Colin 'chivalrously' offered and without waiting for an answer sent his hand inside your pocket, pulling out the keys. You narrowed your eyes at him and took the key from his hand, opening your door. You put in the bags you were holding and turned to take the bags Colin was holding, setting them down inside as well.
"Thanks," you said. "Are you feeling alright?" you smiled.
"What do you mean?" he looked puzzled.
"Well, you helped me with my bags and had your hand in my back pocket without trying to, ya know," you gestured vaguely with your hands, "do anything. So, either there's something wrong with you or I'm looking like an old lady. I'm personally choosing to believe it's the first one, so spill," you crossed your arms.
He chuckled and averted his gaze down. "Just distracted, I guess. You look great," he smiled and you returned it.
"Well, thanks again for the help. Merry Christmas," you said and went to close your door.
"Wait," he said suddenly and took your wrist only to quickly let go when he realized what he did. "I actually could use some help decorating, and since I just helped you…" he trailed off and raised his eyebrows at you.
"Well, I do owe you one," you smiled, coming out and locking your apartment. "After you," you gestured, and Colin walked the short distance to his apartment and unlocked it.
"Okay, wait here," he said and went somewhere else while you took in your surroundings. You were rarely ever in Colin's apartment, and every time you were it was for a very brief period of time, like to borrow some milk or something. His apartment was actually a little neater than you had thought it was, but was still kind of a mess.
"Aha!" Colin yelled in triumph and seconds later came back into the living room with a box in his hands. He opened it and spilled the contents on his couch, resulting in a pile of red and green holiday decorations.
"We just gotta hang these all around here," he gestured around the living room.
"Okay, cool," you said. "But some of these look like they're tree decorations…" you furrowed your brows at him.
"Shit! I knew I forgot something!" he smacked his forehead with his palm and you burst into laughter.
"Oh my god Colin, you're really gonna tell me you wanted to decorate for Christmas but you forgot the bring… a tree?" you asked incredulously while still laughing.
"Fuck," he cursed under his breath and clenched his teeth. Weirdly enough, he actually looked… a little upset about this.
"Okay, what's the time?" you asked him once you calmed down.
"Nearly seven," he replied after checking his phone.
"Well, that means you can still make it to one of the places that sell the small, apartment trees. I can come back later to help if you want," you offered.
"Really? You're the best," he replied and grabbed his keys. "I'll get you when I come back."
"Great," you smiled and got into your apartment.
You weren't sure what urged you to help Colin, but he seemed pretty serious about this decorating business, which was very much unlike him. But hey – kindness and holiday spirit are very important things, right?
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#chris evans x reader#colin shea x reader#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x you#chris evans fluff#colin shea fluff#colin shea x female reader
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Read Between the Lines
Summary: Solving cases was what you’d signed up to do, but solving them with your academy crush turned partner was not on the agenda.
Pairing: Yoongix Reader
Genre: Detective!Yoongi x Detective!Reader. Angst, fluff, bickering, romance, illusions to smut but nothing graphic.
Rating:PG15
Word Count: 18043
Warnings: TW:Death mention TW:Crime mention TW:Prostitution mention TW:Attempted Murder mention TW:Drug Addiction Mention. Nothing is described in great detail, but Yoongi and YN are detectives and this is typical of their line of work so there will be mention and talk of cases to do with these topics. I did research but I’m sure I still got details wrong, haha. This is all just for entertainment purposes.
YN is ethnically Greek but I’ve made an effort to not describe anything about her so she can still be reader insert. I thought about naming her, but decided it might be fun just to read as a reader insert instead.
**
You were craving Greek food, something with a lot of Kalamata olives. And feta; lots of feta. Maybe you were just craving salt. Your stomach grumbled as you stepped from the squad car, adjusting your belt and locking the door.
The interior of Mykonos diner was a bit grungy; run down with age and frequent foot traffic, mostly yours and your partners. Blue and white mimicking the streets of Santorini and heavy with 50 years’ worth of grime, but it was your favorite spot to go. It was family owned, after all.
Scanning the heads of the patrons, you spot Yoongi’s mop of dark hair in the corner booth, his neck stretched long as he craned over his paper work; oblivious to your entry. You made your way towards him, rounding the other side of the booth and sliding into the seat opposite him. He spares you a glance and a grunt as a greeting before returning to whatever he’s writing.
You scrunch your nose at the top of his head before glancing over at the kitchen where your aunt is working, back bent with years of effort. “You want your usual, anipsiá?” She calls and you smile, nodding.
“Thank you, theía!” Your gaze returns back to the restaurant. It wasn’t lunch yet so there weren’t very many people, but there was an old couple sitting in the center of the room at the old rickety table you’d run into when you were five while playing a heated game of tag with your cousins. They didn’t seem to mind the wobbly leg as they linked fingers across the table over Moussaka and some Dolmadakia.
Yoongi huffed in frustration, bringing your eyes back to him as he straightened in his seat, hand running down his face. He looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes from late nights and too much caffeine. His eyes drooped from exhaustion as he turned his gaze to yours, scratching at the light stubble on his chin.
“I just can’t figure it out.” He grumbled, reaching for his mug; presumably coffee, taking a long sip and smacking his lips together in satisfaction.
“Take a break,” you reprimanded. “You need a clear head before you can go back to it.” Yoongi looked like he wanted to argue, but he stopped himself, lips pursed. “Have you ordered?”
He shook his head, nodding down at his mug, “Just this. I was waiting for you.”
“How chivalrous.” You smirked and he chuckled.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself; I was distracted.” He flagged down your uncle to order keftedes with a side of fries.
“And two waters please, theíos. Light on the ice.” Yoongi gave you a look after your uncle had left and you shrugged.
“You don’t run on coffee, Yoongi, you need water too.”
“Coffee is made from water.” He grumbled.
“Ok, surly, so where are you on the house renovations?” You asked, slipping further into your seat and adjusting your holster; it was digging into your gut.
“It’s gonna be a while yet, but the walls are up now.” He shrugged.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?” You asked, “You’re gonna spend all your money on that hotel and I’ve got that extra bedroom. For free, Yoongi.”
“It’s cute that you want to spend all your time with me.” He smirked at you over the rim of his mug and you rolled your eyes.
“Don’t be an idiot. I’m thinking of your bank account.” You chuckled.
The bell at the door rang as another patron entered and you watched as she took the booth closest to the door before diverting your attention back to Yoongi. “Why can’t we find anything, Y/N?” He sulked and you sighed.
“It’s a cold case, Yoongi. It went cold for a reason. Don’t be so hard on yourself, we’re doing the best we can. We just need to look at it from a new angle.”
“They’ve been waiting for 10 years for answers, don’t you think they deserve our effort?” He grumbled and you frowned.
“Of course, but obsessing over it is clearly not helping. Take a step back and a deep breath. We’ll figure it out.”
“Every new lead always dries up or ends up being nothing. How can you stay so positive?”
“I’m as frustrated as you are, but we’ve worked on harder cases than this. We’ve got this.”
“Here you go. Do you want some portokalada, anipsiá?” Your uncle asked, sliding your plates onto the table and turning his gaze to you.
“No thank you, water is fine for me today.”
“When are you going to bring a man around to meet us? Your mama and theía want to know.”
You sighed, slumping further in your seat, “I bring a man around here all the time.” You grin, motioning at Yoongi who looked at you darkly and your uncle laughed.
“Yoongi doesn’t count. Unless he’s going to give you babies, he’s not important. No offence meant.” Your uncle said, inclining his head towards Yoongi who nodded.
“None taken.” Yoongi replied, taking a bite of one of his fries.
As if Yoongi needed to hear your uncle talk about the possibility of impregnating you. Mortification was a constant friend of yours in the presence of your family. “OK, thank you. We’ll talk about this later during family dinner.”
Your uncle chuckled, sauntering back to the kitchen and you glanced over at Yoongi, teeth gritting in discomfort. He was too concentrated on his food to notice your frown so you sighed, grabbing a fork and taking a bite of your own food.
“You don’t have to make it weird.” Yoongi said suddenly, and you looked up at him. He was still staring down at his food, forking it into his mouth as though he hadn’t spoken.
“My uncle made it weird, not me.” You replied nonchalantly and he shrugged.
“Semantics.”
You chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure you love the idea of making me an honest woman.”
“It’s not the worst thing I could imagine.” He smirked. “Right up there with taming a bear; could be exciting.”
You laughed, kicking at his ankle under the table. “You’re an ass.”
After you’d both finished your lunch, you said goodbye to your family, walking out the door, Yoongi trailing behind you and walking to the passenger seat of your car. He radioed in a 10-8 as you started the car, pulling from the parking space and turning the car in the direction of the station.
“We’ve got a 10-35 at 387 W Simons St. Nearest officer, please respond.” Your radio crackled to life and Yoongi reached for his own, pressing the button on the side to talk.
“This is 96, we’re just a couple blocks away.”
“10-4, 96. Be advised this is a 10-33.”
“Copy that.”
You flipped on your lights and siren, driving in the direction of the address as it was listed back to you, stomach flipping uncomfortably.
“96, please be advised the suspect is not yet in custody.”
“10-4.” Yoongi replied.
Pulling into the apartment complex, you parked and stepped from the car, glancing up at the building in front of you. It was in a row of other apartment blocks, similar in color and worn with age. You followed Yoongi up the stairs to apartment C3, stepping into the living room through the open door. There were already a few officers and the forensics team strewn about the room, taking pictures or searching for evidence and you took a preemptive glance around the room for any information you’d need to remember.
“What’s the situation?” Yoongi asked, turning to one of the other officers, a older man from your unit who was taller and stockier than your partner.
He sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead. “Woman in her early 20’s, beaten and left to die. Her mother found her when she was bringing the woman’s daughter back home from breakfast. She’s been transferred to the hospital in critical condition. Her mother is in the little girl’s bedroom with her currently. We suspect it was the child’s father and are searching for him.”
“Is there a reason for suspecting the father?” You asked as Yoongi surveyed the room, watching one of the officers search through drawers.
“There have been reports of domestic abuse in the past and he left a few threatening messages on her phone the last few days. The captain wants the two of you to man this case so you’d better do your interviews and take a look around while you’re here.”
You nodded before walking back to where Officer Tony pointed and knocking on the door to the furthest right, the white paint chipping in the corners. An officer opened from the inside and you stepped through, looking down at a woman, no older than 55 holding a little girl in her lap whose eyes were wide and blood shot as you stepped forward.
“Hello,” you smiled gently, going to kneel down in front of the both of them. “My name is Officer Y/N, I’m here to help your family.”
The woman looked down at you, her own smile strained and you could see her efforts not to cry in front of her grandchild.
“I know you’ve already given a statement, but I will be personally working on this case and I want to hear from you what you saw so I can do my absolute best.”
“Well,” the woman started, voice shaky, “I took my granddaughter last night while my daughter was at work. She’s a single mother and works two jobs, one of which is at a bar that’s opened late so I kept her overnight and took her out for breakfast this morning. I called around 11 when I hadn’t heard from her, but she didn’t answer her phone so we drove over to check on her and found her in the living room.”
You nodded, reaching to touch her hand and she released a shuddery breath. “I told Cora to go wait in her bedroom as soon as I saw her laying there. She was badly beaten, but I could see she was still breathing. I called 911 right away and waited with her until the paramedics got here.”
“Has anything strange happened over the last few days? Anything in the last 24 hours?”
The woman shook her head, a few grey hairs slipping from the elastic of her hair tie. “Nothing that would have caused me alarm. She got into a fight with her ex a few days ago, but that’s not unusual so it didn’t raise any red flags.”
“Was anything out of place when you entered the apartment?” You asked, switching your gaze between the woman and the child, the latter of whom was still staring distantly at the wall.
“Nothing that I noticed, but honestly I didn’t look the way I should have. I was too consumed with sheltering Cora and trying to make sure my daughter was OK.”
“Thank you so much for your cooperation.” You breathed, “I will do everything I can to help your family.”
“Thank you, detective.”
You returned to the living room; shoulders heavy in thought. There wasn’t a lot that seemed to be out of place, an overturned coffee table with what appeared to be coffee stained into the carpet from a dropped ceramic mug. There was some blood, but thankfully not a lot and you grimaced.
Yoongi was across the room talking with one of the other officers from your precinct and you scanned the room for anything that could have been missed in the initial search of the room. The apartment was a little older and run down, much like the complex, but it was clear that it was loved and well lived in. Toys were scattered in a corner of the room, a Roomba lodged by the small entertainment center.
The main living space was small, with mismatched drapery and furniture that looked like it had been loved by more than a few owners, but it had its charms and you smiled despite yourself. You really hoped the doctors were good so they could get this young mom back home soon. You’d work yourself to the bone if need be, as long as the person responsible was behind bars, that’s all that was driving you right now.
When evening came, you made your way drowsily to your car, heading out onto the road and into the evening traffic. You’d worked a 16-hour work day today and would likely have another tomorrow, you needed to eat and take a long bubble bath before making your way into bed for an early night.
Typically, you were more interested in showers. A bath took too long and the thought of sitting in your own dirty water was unappealing to you, but seeing as you didn’t have a masseuse at your disposal, this was as good as it would get. You’d just rinse off the dirt and grime of the day before actually running the bath water.
Once you’d returned home, locking your door behind you, you deposited your keys and bag by the door, twisting your neck in circles and making your way to your bedroom, removing your gun from its holster and setting it on your bedside table.
You decided on a bath first. The idea of ordering takeout and watching one episode of something mind numbing before bed was sublimely appealing so you stripped down, dropping everything into your hamper and made your way to turn on the shower.
After rinsing off, you grabbed a bath bomb from the bowl sitting on the back of your toilet and stopped the tub tight, allowing the hot water to fill a little before dropping the ball into the water and sliding your aching limbs in, watching what was essentially strawberry shortcake scented baking soda fizz into the water.
You’d worked as a police detective for 4 years now and you’d often heard that eventually you’d master the ability to switch off your mind at the end of a shift, but the skill still proved elusive as you soaked your aching bones, thinking about that sweet little girl who’s mommy wouldn’t be returning home to her tonight.
Honestly, the cases involving children were the worst part of your job. Your line of work was filled with misery and crappy outcomes more often than not, and in a high paced, high stress profession where a split second of indecision could cost a life, sometimes you wondered if it would only do harm to allow yourself to get so invested. Feelings were a tricky thing and you often allowed yours to run you; like a fool. Your mother often told you, you were too soft. Greek women were meant to be strong and passionate, and while you were definitely passionate, your mother had a hard time seeing that softness and strength could be one in the same.
You sighed, sticking a toe out of the water and playing with the handle above the spout. Tomorrow night you were expected over at your parent’s house for family dinner and you already felt exhausted from it. Your family meant well, but they always asked you when you’d be bringing a man home and honestly, aside from Yoongi, you really didn’t have time to meet a man.
A 16-hour work day was not out of the ordinary in your profession and in fact, more often than not, that was the norm. You’d gone on an odd blind date or two, mostly set up by your mother, a couple of weak introductions to a friend of a friend, but nothing had ever really amounted to anything.
Either you were too busy, they were, or there was just no spark. Granted, sometimes a spark built up over time, but unfortunately you had neither the time nor the inclination to pursue that sort of thing. Not right now, at least. You were still young. Besides, any free time you did have was spent in the isles of the grocery store. Life was so exciting.
After drying off and pulling on a pair of fuzzy pajamas, you walked back into the living room, sitting down in the plush seating of your far too expensive (but well worth it) couch and pulling up some takeout on your phone, flipping through your options before ordering something you knew would get to you quickly and taste decent.
Dropping your phone beside you, you flipped on the TV, pulling up some Hulu and scanning the different shows you could watch. You were feeling a bit depressed after today so you wanted to find something lighthearted.
A knock on your door startled you and you frowned. There was no way the food was here that quickly. They’d promised fast delivery, but 5 minutes was virtually impossible. Standing sluggishly, you made your way towards the door, peaking through the peep hole and chuckling.
You unlocked the door and pulled it open with a quick tug. “What are you doing here?”
Yoongi looked about as tired as you felt, suitcase beside him, hand resting on the handle bar as he surveyed you. “I was just in the area…” he remarked sarcastically and you chuckled. “The sprinklers in the hotel went off so they refunded me but now I need a place to stay. Your offer still standing?”
“Of course.” You nodded, standing back as he trudged passed you, shoes squelching with water. “Did you manage to save any of your belongings from the sprinklers?”
You led him to the door across from yours, pushing it open and flicking on the light. You watched as he sighed, walking over to the bed and kicking off his shoes. He sat down on the edge of the bed, lifting one foot to peel an unfortunately soggy sock from where it clung.
“I managed to save most of it, thankfully. My stuff was packed in my suitcase,” he rapped his knuckles along the hard shell of his case to showcase, “it was just me that got soaked.”
“Did you need to take a shower to warm up?” You asked, watching as he stood up and pulled the mildly damp sweater over his head
“That would be great,” he nodded, glancing over at you.
“OK, well, you know where all the stuff is. I just ordered take out and you’re lucky I ordered with my eyes and not my brain; there will be plenty to share.” You grinned and he chuckled under his breath.
“Cool, I’ll meet you in the living room in 20, then.”
**
By the time the food had arrived, Yoongi was freshly showered and dressed in his pajamas, all dark to match the scowl on his face. “I smell like a gardening center.” He gripped, coming to sit beside you and taking the box of Chinese takeout you handed him.
“I like floral scents, Yoongi. Sue me.”
“Thanks again for letting me stay. I can pay you, if you need.” He said around a mouthful of orange chicken.
You scoffed, pushing a piece a broccoli around with your chopsticks, “You already know what I’m going to say. I told you, you could stay as long as you need, free of charge. It’s really not a big deal, Min. We work at the same place anyway so less greenhouse emissions or whatever.”
“You’re wanting to carpool?” He asked, glancing at you and you shrugged.
“It makes sense, don’t you think? Partners at work, staying in the same place. We can save on gas money.”
Yoongi took a sip of his drink, staring off at the TV in thought. “I take the subway to work, actually. I’ll pay for gas, though. That can be my way of paying you.”
You chuckled, taking a bite of a dumpling. “I won’t argue with you on that one.”
You grabbed the remote, stirring the TV back to life. “I was gonna watch an episode and then hit the sack. You’re welcome to stay up after and watch whatever you want, just keep the volume low.”
Yoongi nodded, shoveling fried rice into his mouth and you started the TV show, kicking your feet up on the coffee table and snuggling deeper into your couch, blanket spread across your legs to keep you cozy.
You were actually kind of glad the sprinklers had rained Yoongi out of his hotel room. Not that you would wish material damage on the business or soggy clothes on your partner, but it was nice to have the company of your friend in a place that was normally quiet and a little lonely.
After you’d finished your food, you cleaned up the leftovers, sticking them in the fridge and throwing away the trash. Yoongi was still lounging in front of the television, eyes zoned out on bright colors and munching on a dumpling.
“I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You called and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.
“Thanks again, Y/N. I’m gonna watch a little bit more but I’ll make sure the volume is low.”
You nodded, heading for your bedroom before turning at the door. “By the way, I generally leave the house around 7:30 to try and avoid some traffic. If you want a ride, you’ll need to be ready to go by then.”
“Cool.” He said, digging around in a box of vegetables with his chop sticks. “See you in the morning.”
After brushing your teeth and climbing into bed, you switched off your bedside lamp, pulling the blankets up to your nose. Knowing Yoongi was just beyond the door left you with a fluttering in your stomach and you sighed.
You’d known Yoongi for years now. A rookie in the police academy the same time as you. You hadn’t known him well at the time, but you’d spoken to him enough to have a school girl crush on him that still had yet to fully fade. When you’d graduated from the academy and gone to work as a police officer, the two of you had worked in different parts of the city and you hadn’t seen him for years until you’d been promoted to detective and moved to a new precinct where you and Yoongi were assigned as partners.
In a large agency with over 100 detectives, the chances of being partnered with your academy crush were slim. At first, you’d been terrified and thought about talking to the chief about being assigned a new partner; you weren’t sure you could stay on task if his face was always around distracting you. You knew the likelihood of being switched was almost zero, though. Besides, at first, he was an absolute asshole so that crush mostly faded over time until you finally got to know him better.
He’d become a little hardened by the nature of your work, been working as a beat cop longer than he cared to admit until finally working his way up the food chain to where he was now. The problem with Yoongi was that he cared too much, wanted to help so badly that when he couldn’t, when night after night he’d come across the bodies of the victim’s he couldn’t help, talked to the women he couldn’t protect, well…it took its toll.
It’s not like he’d ever been a sunny optimist, his disposition in general was a little quiet and reserved, but he’d certainly been more willing to hope for positive outcomes back then. You knew he still loved his work, still believed people were worth fighting for, but the world was ugly and he’d seen too much of it to remain innocent. It had taken a while to scratch past that surface of cynicism to find the gentle hearted man you remembered from the academy.
Once you’d found him, he’d melted like butter in your hands, opening up and not only reigniting that young woman’s crush, but becoming one of your dearest friends. You couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in this line of work; you needed his attention to detail and his ability to push through hard things. He’d become worn with the grief, but it had only pushed him to work harder, do better, even if it had taken some of his idealism away.
****
The buzzer to the coffee pot was loud, hissing with life and you ran from your room, fastening one earring to your ear as you ripped the pot out and glanced towards the room where Yoongi was sleeping. You assumed he was up by now, though you couldn’t be sure. You hadn’t heard the shower turn on after you, but you had been listening to music so perhaps you’d missed it.
Grabbing a mug from a shelf above the sink, you placed it on the counter and began to pour yourself a cup. Today was going to be a long day, calling people in to get some interviews and maybe compile more evidence. The mother of your beating victim had indicated that it may have been the boyfriend and the recordings you’d taken from the victims answering machine seemed like a good confirmation that was true, but you were a big believer in innocent until proven guilty and you needed more evidence than hearsay.
“How many spoons of sugar have you put in there?” Yoongi gagged from behind you and you jumped, turning to look at him over your shoulder.
“What?”
He pointed to your mug, your hand gripping a spoonful of sugar over the top and you blinked. “Oh…um, I don’t know, actually. I wasn’t paying attention.” You lifted your cup to your mouth to sip, lips puckering briefly. “Oh, apparently a lot. Oh well. Did you want cream?”
You stepped in front of the fridge, pulling out a small carton of creamer and walking back to your own cup, pouring liberally before holding it out to him.
He shook his head, grabbing another mug and pouring until the coffee had nearly met the rim. “You know I like my coffee black.”
“Yeah, but what I don’t know is why.”
He shrugged, taking a large gulp of his drink and sighing happily. “Because it’s delicious.”
“Agree to disagree.” You nodded, walking towards the toaster and grabbing some bread. “Did you want something to eat? I normally grab something more substantial on the way in, but I’m hungry right now and need something to tide me over.”
“Sure, I’ll take a piece of toast.” You grabbed two slices, dropping them into the toaster and pushing the lever down.
“Butter? Jam?”
“Just butter.” He hummed over the top of his cup, taking a seat at the table and you nodded, bringing the crock over to the kitchen table for him. “Thanks again for letting me stay. I really feel guilty about not paying you, though. What if-”
“Yoongi, if you even try to slip me a few coins I’ll chop your hands off. Seriously, no payment necessary. I’m happy to help. Besides, we already agreed on gas.”
“I could have you arrested for threatening an officer.” He smirked, leaning back in his chair and you grinned over your shoulder.
“Oo, handcuffs, don’t threaten me with pleasure.” You wiggled your eyebrows and he huffed with laughter.
“Raunchy. Never knew you were into that sort of thing.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” You agreed, slipping the newly toasted bread onto a plate and sliding it to the center of the table next to the butter. “Bon appetite.” You grinned, slathering your own toast with butter and taking a bite, Yoongi’s widened eyes making you grin.
***
The office was slow when you got there, Yoongi trailing behind you still munching on the breakfast burrito you’d stopped for on the way. He hummed happily; steak burrito shoved hallway into his mouth. “Dith you know dees hal fren friz in dem?” He mumbled around his mouthful, sitting down at this desk and you grimaced over at him.
“Finish your mouthful first, you animal. I didn’t understand a thing you said to me.”
He chewed quickly, swallowing and turning his burrito to face you. “Did you know these have French fries in them?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “it’s their signature thing.” You took another bite of your own burrito, more civilized than Yoongi, and leaned over to turn on your computer.
“We need to get some people in here today.” You said, setting your food down on your desk. “I was thinking we should get in family members, friends, that neighbor who claimed they saw the ex-boyfriend outside her house and then him too, if we can.”
Yoongi nodded, clicking against his keyboard animatedly, “the report says the victim has two brothers, let’s start with them.”
“You wanna call them and I’ll try getting ahold of some of her friends?”
“Sure.”
You pulled your notes from yesterday, scanning through the phone numbers you’d been given and holding the pad up for Yoongi to type in the one of the brother’s numbers before you looked back over it and punched in the number of one of the friends.
The morning was spent calling around and setting up interviews. So far, the only one with something relatively interesting to say was the neighbor. The family members and friends’ statements were aided by conjecture but they hadn’t been there so they didn’t have much of substance to give.
You didn’t blame them, but it was frustrating. So much hearsay and not enough evidence. Your heart told you it was the ex-boyfriend, but without reasonable evidence, gut instinct was worthless. You could only hope that his interview would be more interesting than all the others.
At 11am he walked through the doors, gazing around the room and you motioned to Yoongi before standing and moving towards him. “Mr. Grant, I’m assuming?”
He nodded and you motioned for him to follow you. Yoongi brought up the rear, closing the door to the interrogation room. Mr. Grant was tall, intimidatingly so, with his hair shaved close and tattoos peaking from every gap of clothing. He looked like he’d never taken a day off from the gym and you grimaced at the thought of what a fist like that could do to your victim’s face.
“Did you want anything to drink? Coffee? Water?” Yoongi asked, hand still holding the door handle.
“I’m good.” Mr. Grant replied, adjusting his jeans before taking a seat.
“Thank you for coming in to talk today,” You began, flipping open the file with your victim’s paperwork. You pulled a picture from the file, sliding it across the table. “Can you tell me how you know this woman?”
Mr. Grant looked down at the picture, pulling a face you couldn’t quite decipher but keeping his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. “Ex-girlfriend.” He said with a shrug, “we’ve got a kid together.”
“Cora?” You questioned and he nodded. He didn’t seem surprised by the picture; cold and callous in his appraisal of her beaten face in vivid color. “When is the last time you saw Cora?”
He sighed, running a hand over the top of his head, fingers fidgeting, before sliding back in his pocket. “Few days ago. I’ve been busy but I usually have her on the weekends.”
“You’re not concerned at all that the mother of your child looks like that?” Yoongi questioned, pointing down at the picture in front of him. Mr. Grant glanced down at it again, shrugging.
“We’re not close.” He remarked and you frowned.
“Don’t you wanna know if she’s dead or alive?” You asked and he sighed again, like this was all a giant waste of his time.
“I figure she’s dead, since I’m in here.” He replied, leaning back in his chair.
“She’s not.” You replied and watched as his eyebrow quirked. “She’s in a medically induced coma. Massive bleeding to the brain, a broken pelvis and femur, and a perforated lung. Do you know how someone would get like that?”
“I assume you’re going to tell me.” He drawled, rolling his head to the side.
“A fist, presumably.” Yoongi replied. “Do you know anyone who would want to hurt her?”
“I don’t know her life, man.” Mr. Grant rolled his eyes, “she comes from a white bread, blue collar family. Your guess is as good as mine.”
Yoongi sighed, grabbing the chair from beside you and twisting it to sit, chest against the back as he surveyed Mr. Grant from across the top. “We found some threatening voicemail’s left on her phone, all from you. You must understand why we’re a little suspicious.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when your ex girl tries to take your kid away from you. I haven’t done anything that would warrant her getting full custody.”
“Aside from putting a fist through her face, of course.” Yoongi remarked and Mr. Grant smirked.
“Where’s your proof, man?” He crooned.
“We’ve got the tapes and now your admission of a child custody battle, which is already not great for you. Now all we need is that smoking gun.”
“Yeah, well good luck. I was at a movie with a chick and then she was at my house until an hour ago getting her back blown out. Ticket stub to prove it.” He pulled his wallet from his pocket, removing a receipt and throwing it on the table.
“You don’t even know when all of this happened.” You said, pulling on a glove to pick up the stub and sticking it inside a bag for evidence.
“I’m guessing in the last twelve hours,” He remarked, finger pointing down at the picture of your victim, “Since she looks like this and I appear to be your prime suspect. I doubt you’d wait too long to call me in.”
“We’re gonna need the name of the woman you were with.” Yoongi hummed, twisting his thumbs around one another.
“Don’t know her name.” He shrugged, “Sara something.”
You frowned, closing the manila envelope with a flick of your wrist. “We’ll be in contact, Mr. Grant. Don’t go too far. Have a nice day.”
He smirked, standing and waiting at the door for Yoongi to open it for him. He then waltzed from the room and out of the precinct with the confidence of a man who’d just gotten away with murder. You hoped that wasn’t the case.
You stood by the door of the interrogation room, watching as he disappeared before groaning and walking back to your desk, flopping in your seat.
“Talk to me.” Yoongi said, following your lead.
“Honestly, I’m just really frustrated.”
“Lay it on me.” Yoongi said, leaning back in his chair, legs propped open wide and you were distracted for a moment.
“I-I just-” You tore your gaze away from him, squeezing your eyes shut and pushing your fingers into your temple. “I’m frustrated that so far, we’re no closer to catching our bad guy. I don’t know, my gut just says it’s the ex, but no one can prosecute on a gut feeling. I can’t believe he has an alibi.”
Yoongi nodded before leaning forward and smacking your knee to get your attention. “Y/N, this is day 2. Don’t get so discouraged. We’ll go around the neighborhood, see if we can get access to camera footage in the area and just look for anything interesting.”
“But what if we don’t find anything? What if this guy gets off, Yoongi?”
Yoongi frowned, leaning back in his chair once more, one pant leg hiked up enough to reveal the navy blue of his sock and his fingers twitching against his kneecap. “We’ll get him, Y/N. Whoever the guy is, we’ll get him.”
“I want that little girl to have her mom back.” You sighed, dragging your chair back to your desk by the heels of your shoes.
“She will.” Yoongi said, dragging his chair right next to yours and you turned to look at him, his face far closer than you were used to. “If you stress over this, you’re gonna make a mistake. Take a break, Y/N, go get a coffee or something.”
You nodded, mute, before standing up and making your way to the break room, fingers twitching nervously in the pockets of your slacks. Yoongi had never been an overly affectionate partner. He showed he cared in different ways, but if he were a love language, it was definitely not physical touch.
The coffee was already brewed as you made your way into the grey and aging break room. The seafoam green florescent box light above flickering on one side and you grabbed a mug from the cupboard, pouring yourself a cup and searching the fridge for an unexpired creamer.
After you’d found one that seemed the least questionable, you sat down at the table, coffee steaming from the mug and up into your face as you bent over it, fingers scratching into your scalp. You weren’t good with setbacks; they stressed you out. It was probably very strange from the outside that you’d chosen a field that was filled to the brim with disappointments, but ever since you were a little girl, getting the bad guy was always your thing.
It started small with Johnny Walcot on your street. He’d taken your little cousin’s chalk and tried to run away with it. You’d chased him half a block before you’d tackled him to the ground and given him a nice shiner to remember you by. Your methods had changed since then.
In high school you’d joined clubs, volunteered to be hall monitor, and even ran for student body president. You were a bit of a goodie toe shoes, but whatever, it made for a really good job application when you’d applied to the academy when you were 21.
You sighed, dropping your hands onto the table and allowing the smoky aroma of roasted coffee beans to ease your shoulders into a slump. Yoongi was right, you just needed to pound pavement and see what you could dig up. You were no quitter and you’d go down fighting if necessary.
Taking a long sip of your drink, you leaned back in your chair, face tilting up to the ceiling and you closed your eyes. Maybe you needed to start practicing yoga, your cousin was always going on and on about how relaxed it made her feel. You could really do with some relaxation right about now.
The door to the break room opened with a squeak and Yoongi waltzed in, eyeing the pot of coffee on the counter. “Did you make a new batch?”
“No,” you shook your head, “but it’s still fresh.”
He nodded, making his way over with his own personal coffee cup and emptying the pot into his mug before joining you at the table. “I was thinking,” he paused to sip at his drink, humming softly, “there’s that credit union on the corner right by our vic’s apartment, we should go see if they caught anything on their security camera. There’s a few other places nearby as well that we could check in on; one of them is bound to have cameras.”
“Don’t even know what I’m looking for now that the ex has an alibi.” You muttered, rubbing your thumb down the handle of your mug.
“Clues.” Yoongi teased and you smiled up at him, “Come on, we’ve got this, it’s only day two. We’ll head out after this and see what we can find.”
**
Early spring in the city meant allergies. For Yoongi, that is. He sneezed before whining childishly, pulling a tissue from his pocket and blowing his nose. “Hay fever is the worst.” He griped, throwing the tissue in the nearest garbage can and stuffing his hands in his pockets as he followed you along the sidewalk.
“Tell me how you really feel.” You hummed and he glowered.
“I don’t remember asking for your sass.” He said and you smiled, shrugging.
“You didn’t not ask for it either.” You pushed open the door to the credit union, holding it open for Yoongi to follow you through. You were being greeted before Yoongi could retort and a lady in a cream tweed suit and clipboard in hand came to stand in front of you.
“How can I help you today?” She smiled, lips painted an alarming shade of red.
Yoongi held up his badge quickly before clipping it back to his belt. “We’re doing some investigating on a case in this area and we’re wondering if the security camera’s outside work or if they’re more for scare tactics.”
“They do work.” The women confirmed, dark eyebrows folding in the center. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about it, though. You’d need to speak to our branch president for more information.”
“Is the branch president here today?” You asked and the woman turned to you, lips pursed and head nodding.
“He is. If you’ll just wait here a moment, I’ll go grab him.” She turned on her heel, clicking along the marble floor and into the adjacent hallway before disappearing around a corner.
“This place is fancy.” You remarked, gaze shifting around the room. Floor to ceiling windows against the front of the building, white marble flooring, and Mozart wafting softly from somewhere unseen. It likely made for a very pleasant banking experience.
“I’ve been thinking about getting a new bank recently; hate all my banks fees. They are blood suckers with their overdraft fees.” Yoongi remarked, his gaze steady on the hallway where the woman had disappeared.
“This is too rich for your blood.” You sighed and Yoongi turned to glare at you.
“What are you insinuating?”
“Take a wild guess.” You teased. Just then, the clicking of heels returned and the two of you turned to find the woman at the opening to the hallway, waving you over.
“If you’ll just follow me.”
Heavy oak doors lined the walls leading to what you could only assume were offices. You followed around the corner before she stood before one door, pausing to knock.
“Sir.” She greeted, ushering the two of you towards her bosses’ desk before leaving back to the lobby. A cherry wood desk greeted you, home to a middle aged, mildly rotund man. His hair was mousy brown, pushed out of his face and his nose held up the wire framed glasses he was sporting.
“Good afternoon.” He smiled, standing and coming to shake your hands, “I’m Dean Clark. Nancy tells me you’re inquiring after security footage?”
“Yes, actually, we’re covering a case in the area and we’re hoping to find some more information through security footage.” Yoongi said, taking the seat the branch president had gestured to.
Mr. Clark sat behind his desk, clicking the mouse of his computer and nodding his head as he searched through files. “What time frame are you wanting to search through?”
“Yesterday morning seems to be around when things started, but if we could see the footage all the way through Friday morning, that would be helpful.”
Mr. Clark nodded, busying himself in his search and you took a moment to look around the room. It was as classy as the lobby, though darker in color. Exactly what you would imagine for a CEO or president of a company. A ticking clock on the wall distracted you for a moment and you watched the minute hand tick down.
“Ah, here we go. OK, I’m just going to save it really quick. Is there anything else I can do for you officers while you’re here?”
“That’s all we need for now,” Yoongi confirmed, “but we’ll be in contact if there’s anything else at a later date.”
Mr. Clark handed over the CD he’d saved the file on and you slipped it into your bag, thanking him before the three of you stood and he directed you back down the correct side of the hallway.
You spent the next two hours visiting nearby establishments, getting any security footage you could before making your way back to the office to review the files. You were a little damp from walking around in the sun for so long. With dreams of the personal fan you had sitting on your desk, you made your way inside, Yoongi following behind.
“Officer Y/N.”
You turned to the voice calling you, Officer Gordon nodding over at the waiting room. “There’s a neighbor of your victim here; a Ms. Jiang. Says she’s got some information for you.”
“Thank you, Jacob.” You said, patting his arm before grabbing the files from your desk and making your way towards the waiting room.
“I’ll be in room 3.” Yoongi called over to you and you nodded.
“Ms. Jiang?” You asked and a small woman, looking around late 60’s and a head full of straight white hair, stood slowly with a wave. “Thank you so much for coming in. I hope you weren’t waiting terribly long, we weren’t aware you were coming today.”
“Oh no,” she waved you away, following slowly along with you as she gripped at her cane, “I’ve only been here about 5 minutes and the other officers were so nice. Got me a nice cup of tea while I waited.”
“I’m so glad they took care of you.” You smiled, “we’re just over here in this room.”
Ms. Jiang made her way into the room, acknowledging Yoongi with a quick nod before taking the proffered seat.
“Would you like anything to drink?” Yoongi asked and her eyes crinkled with her smile.
“No thank you, dear. I had a tea while I was waiting.”
After closing the door, you sat quickly in your seat, placing your file on the table in front of you and leaning forward. “Ms. Jiang, we were told that you came with some information for us?”
“Well yes. I know that poor girl next door got beaten, she’s in the hospital I heard. I feel so sorry for her. She’s a very good girl, works really hard to take care of her daughter. It’s not an easy job being a single mom. I was a single mom to two when my husband died; it’s a real challenge.”
“Did you see something on that day?” Yoongi asked gently and she nodded, lips rubbing together.
“Yes, I believe I did. That morning I had to go put my trash outside by the dumpster. My kids don’t live very close anymore, you see, and ever since my husband died I’ve had to do it all by myself. While I was out with the garbage I saw that dreadful man again.”
“Which man?” You asked and she frowned.
“That man that she used to date. I don’t know his name, never cared to hear it, but he comes by sometimes to pick up that little girl for a few days. It was very early in the morning, the sun hadn’t even come up yet. I’m an early riser, see, so I was out getting a start on my daily chores. I’d know him anywhere, though. His tattoos are hard to miss since he’s got so many of them.
“Well, at first I didn’t think much of it because, as I said, he comes by sometimes to see that little girl. I thought it was a little odd that he was there so early in the morning, but it wasn’t my business to interfere unless something was wrong. Well, I went back to my apartment for a little while before I realized I’d forgotten to take the recycling out.
“So, I was taking my recycling out when I heard a door open and close and I looked and saw him again. He was shoving something in the pocket of his jeans, like a tiny little bat, and then walking quickly down the stairs. I thought that was really strange; why would he come so early in the morning to pick up a tiny little thing like that? He didn’t even have the little girl with him.”
“Did you see anything else?” You asked, heart racing in your chest. You knew it; you just knew it. Somehow, he was lying and you were going to prove it.
“Unfortunately not. I wanted to knock on the door to see if that young woman was OK, but I didn’t want to seem like a busy body spying on other people’s lives. I know she works strange hours to make ends meet, so I just thought she must have been awake for work or something. Now I feel real sorry for not checking.”
“It’s not your fault.” Yoongi insisted, “no one could have known what happened.”
“Ma’am, would you be willing to write and sign a statement about what you witnessed?” You questioned.
Ms. Jiang nodded, wringing her hands together. “Yes, of course. Anything I can do to help that poor girl.”
After Ms. Jiang had left, both you and Yoongi made your way back to your desks. You still had multiple days’ worth of security footage to go through from multiple businesses and a ticking clock.
“That was unexpected.” Yoongi commented as he took a seat at his desk.
“It was.” You agreed, nodding. “It’s strange that she saw him when he supposedly has an alibi.” Your fingers twitched against the keys of your keyboard in thought. “We need to find that woman Sara, if she even exists.”
“Let’s get started on the security footage first. Later today, we should also go by the theater he mentioned and see if we can get their security feed; get a good look at the woman he was with.”
“I’m hungry, too, so maybe we could get something to eat on the way.”
After lunch and a mind numbing few hours of watching security footage which, so far, had not divulged anything interesting, you were feeling burnt out and frustrated. Again. Yoongi’s phone rang at his desk and you yawned, scrolling through to the next time stamp.
“Hey,” Yoongi called, leaning across the arm of his chair excitedly and you swiveled your head to the side to look at him. “The lab just called and said they’ve got something new on our cold case.”
“Good. I need a break from this for a minute anyway.”
**
Later, after returning home for the evening and Yoongi promptly changing into sweats and a t-shirt, you went to your room to change and get ready for dinner at your parents. You were hungry and apprehensive. It wasn’t a stretch to wonder if your mother and aunts would ask more questions about your love life and you were already dreading the conversation.
“Going out?” Yoongi asked from his burrito blanket on the couch.
“Yeah,” You hummed, searching your purse for your keys, “family dinner tonight. You ok with fending for yourself?”
Yoongi scoffed, flipping channels on the TV. “I think I can handle it.”
“Well, I’ve got some takeout menus stashed in the drawer by my fridge, if you wanted to order something. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
The drive was quiet as you made your way towards the outskirts of the city. After you’d left home, you’d left an empty nest for your parents. With you and your siblings out of the house, they’d decided to move out of the city and downsize.
You didn’t blame them. They were getting older and climbing all those stairs in their old brownstone was taking its toll on their knees. They needed something on one level that wouldn’t break the bank. After finding a spot on the street, you locked the doors, making your way towards their house. It was still an apartment but with one level and street access. The smaller space made for very interesting family dinners.
The evening was peaceful, still light enough outside to make for a nice stroll and you listened as the crickets chirped excitedly. The days were starting to really warm up, but the evenings were still cool and required a light jacket. Families sat in their homes at their tables or around the TV eating and watching movies and for a moment you let yourself envy them.
Your family often asked you when you were getting married and though you brushed them off with a roll of your eyes, you too wanted to find the family they so badly wanted for you. There had to be two willing participants to play and so far, there was just one.
“Y/N!” Your mother called happily as she opened the door just as you’d raised your hand to knock. “I saw you from the window. Come in, come in!”
The apartment was alive with noise, nieces and nephews running and playing, your uncle and your dad arguing about how to properly season a steak, and your aunt fussing over the pregnant belly of your older sister.
“Ah, the baby has arrived!” Your father called, turning from your uncle who looked like he was two seconds away from blowing a fuse. “Let’s eat!”
“You kept us waiting!” Your sister fussed, linking her arm through yours and you smiled.
“I’m sorry Palma, I know this one was probably making your life difficult, huh?” You said, rubbing your hand across her belly and she sighed.
“You know, after four kids, you’d think I’d be used to it by now, but I’m practically foaming at the mouth by the time dinner is ready.”
The dining table had, had the extension put in and still, another long table was needed in the living room. No table was ever big enough for your family to sit at comfortably. With two sets of aunts and uncles, a few cousins, your three siblings and their families along with your parents and yourself, it always made for a very tight squeeze. You couldn’t even imagine trying to fit all the extended family still living far away. It wouldn’t be possible.
Your mom always insisted on having everyone over, though. She said that after having four kids she’d forgotten how to make smaller meals so it was necessary to come and help her eat it all. You certainly weren’t complaining about your mother’s home cooked meals. They were what kept you going through hard weeks when cases weren’t panning out.
You watched as Palma and her husband wrangled their children into their seats before coming to join you back at the table. Your brothers sat further down the table with their wives and if they hadn’t nodded at you as you’d come in, you wouldn’t have even been sure they’d seen you.
“You found a man yet, anipsiá?” Your aunt asked, filling her plate with moussaka and choriatiki. She popped a kalamata olive in her mouth, humming as she chewed.
“Not since two days ago, theía.” You smiled. She chuckled, swatting at you from across the table.
“I worry about you, Y/N.” She sighed, “I don’t want you to be like me, no marriage until 35 and only one baby. Oh, it was such a hard time for me to let down my family like that. The oldest daughter with no family.” Her eyebrows creased in the center as she thought about it before shoving a bite of moussaka so large you thought she might choke.
“Thirty-five isn’t old, though, theía. Besides, you still had Ambrose and he’s great!”
She nodded, solemn. “He is great, but you know I would have liked to give him some brothers and sisters. Thirty-five is advanced maternal age, anipsiá. Don’t put yourself in that situation.”
You sighed, cutting off the corner of your pastitsio and stabbing it moodily with your fork. “I have to find a man I like first, you know that.”
“What about that Yoongi boy?” She asked and you choked around your mouthful, Palma, slapping her hand against your back.
“Yoongi?” you gasped after you’d swallowed your food. “My partner?”
“Sure!” She nodded, taking another large bite and chewing loudly, “He would give you very pretty babies. He’s already your friend, too. You’re halfway there!”
You huffed with laughter, shaking your head. “Have you been drinking too much Retsina? You’re talking crazy.”
“Well why not?” Palma asked, “you told me you had a crush on him in the academy, what’s different now?”
“We’re partners!” You insisted, “that would be weird and inappropriate in the workplace.”
Palma shrugged, “you’re both consenting adults, I don’t see what the issue is.”
“Ok, let’s say for arguments sake that we dated and then broke up. What then?” You dipped some pita bread in the tzatziki sauce before taking a bite and watching your sister with eyebrows raised.
“So, what you’re telling me is you wouldn’t be mature enough to still work together after doing the diddly do?” She grinned and you whined, dipping your bread again.
“Don’t call it that, you make it sound so gross.”
“I’m just saying,” she chuckled, feeding a bite of cheese to the two-year-old hanging from her arm, “It’s not a big deal if you don’t make it a big deal. Now, if you genuinely weren’t interested in him then that would be one thing, but so far I haven’t heard you denying your crush.”
“Yeah, well, that’s because there’s nothing to deny.” You huff, pushing some food across your plate with your fork. “But a relationship needs to be mutual and so far, it seems like he’s not really in the same mind set as me.”
“You never know until you try!” Your aunt insisted, waving her pita bread at you and you smiled, nodding.
“You should bring Yoongi to dinner next time. Don’t give me that look, I don’t mean for that. I just think it would be fun. I’ve never actually met your partner.” Palma shooed her son away and he slumped back to the kids table, a clump of feta cheese squeezed in his fist.
“I’ll ask him, I guess.” You shrugged.
***
By the time you’d made your way back into the apartment, it was late. You’d stayed and had a glass of wine and some dessert while playing games before bidding your farewells. The apartment was dark but you could see the light under Yoongi’s door, signaling his presence and you moved drowsily towards your own room, flicking on the lights and closing your door.
After brushing your teeth and stripping down to your underwear, you crawled under your duvet, shivering at the airconditioned sheets before melting into your mattress. You were so tired, eyes heavy from lack of sleep.
Your phone ringing from the pocket of your jeans startled you and you reached over the side of your bed, digging around in the pile of clothes you hadn’t bothered to put in the hamper. Pulling your phone to your ear you answered with a groggy hello.
“Officer Y/N? It’s Laura from down at the precinct. I’m sorry to be calling so late.”
“No, it’s fine,” you murmured, leaning on one elbow, “what’s going on?”
“We’ve got the ex-boyfriend of your beating victim here. He was arrested at a bar, drunk and disorderly, mumbling about how “she had it coming.” We’re gonna keep him in a holding cell overnight and I thought you might want to know.”
“Yes, actually. Thank you so much! Yoongi and I will be there tomorrow morning to see what’s going on.”
After hanging up and dropping your phone on the other side of your bed you stared up at the ceiling, mind racing. She had it coming. It was chilling how callous some people could be. You weren’t sure if he meant your victim, but your gut said yes. Your gut wouldn’t cut it, though. You needed proof…and you were gonna find it.
**
Yoongi was already awake when you entered the kitchen the next morning. Dressed in dark slacks and a white button up, he was looking more handsome than was reasonable and he looked over at you, nodding over the rim of his cup.
“I made coffee.” He motioned to his side and you thanked him, pushing the hem of your shirt into your pants. “Did you get the phone call last night?”
“From Laura?” At his nod you hummed, “yeah, I did. We can stop over there first thing. I want to talk to him about what he meant by she had it coming.”
“I’ve got an inkling.” Yoongi mumbled into his mug and you sighed.
“Me too, but no one can prosecute on an inkling.”
Yoongi slumped around the kitchen, opening cupboards and peering at the contents inside. You weren’t sure what he was looking for, but you could understand the feeling of frustration in lack of answers.
“How was your family?” He asked, muffled by the door to one of your cupboards.
“They were good. Loud, as usual.” He turned to look at you, smiling and closing the cupboard. “Actually, they told me to invite you to dinner next weekend. Would you be up for it?”
“Free Greek food? I’m absolutely on board. I’m in need of a really good food coma these days.”
“Well you’ll definitely get your wish with my mom’s cooking.” You chuckled, filling your travel mug with coffee and fixing it to your preferences. “Let’s go. We can grab something to eat on the way there.”
**
Mr. Grant was awake in his holding cell when you arrived and you were escorted to one of the interrogation rooms while someone went to go grab him. Breakfast sat heavy in your stomach as you waited and Yoongi picked at his nails, lounging next to you.
“Stop picking, your finger nails are already really short as it is.” You murmured, looking over at him and he looked up at you with a smirk.
“I didn’t realize you made it a regular practice to stare at my fingers, Y/N.”
You scoffed, flipping open the file of your beating victim and turning to gaze down at the information collected so far. The door opening caught your attention and you watched as Mr. Grant was escorted to the seat opposite the two of you.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked once the door had been closed behind the retreating officer.
“Mr. Grant, do you remember anything from last night?” You asked, watching his eyebrow tick up.
“Not a whole lot, to be honest. I was pretty drunk.” He grinned and you drummed your fingers against the desk in front of you.
“So we’ve heard. So then you don’t remember saying, “She had it coming?”” Mr. Grants jaw clamped shut, mouth tightening into a thin line. “Care to enlighten us? Who’s she Mr. Grant?”
His gaze traveled to the wall behind you, eyes glazing over. “Clearly you didn’t mean to let that little tidbit slip,” Yoongi pressed, watching as Mr. Grant’s jaw tensed. “So what, you get in a fight? She’s threatening to take your kid away from you and you just snap, right? Figure she can’t take Cora away if she’s dead.”
He wouldn’t budge. “A neighbor saw you outside her apartment,” you coerced. “On the morning she was found beaten. Saw you there really early in the morning and with a tiny little bat. What were you doing there, Mr. Grant?”
“It’s not what you think!” He insisted suddenly and your eyebrows rose in interest. “I was just there to give her that bat for Cora because I’d gotten it engraved. I knew she was getting off work at that time so I wanted to drop it off before she went to sleep. We got in a fight, though, so I left and forgot to leave the bat there.”
“You got a tiny kids baseball bat engraved?” Yoongi asked, frowning.
“Yeah, Cora and I like to play baseball, it’s our thing. I thought it might be a nice gift.”
“You said you got in a fight with her.” You pressed and his gaze switched quickly to yours, “What about?”
You could see him shutting down before he’d even shook his head. “Nah, I’m not saying anything else without a lawyer present. I know how these things go.”
“Very well. An attorney will be appointed to you or you can choose your own representation. We’ll have one of the other officers come take care of that for you and we’ll be in contact.”
You stood, Yoongi following behind you as you made your way out of the station and towards your car. He groaned, rubbing at his eyes as you started the engine and backed away from the curb. “Now what?” He mused, eyes staring empty at the roof of your car as you made your way back towards your office.
“I don’t know.” You admit, thumbs rubbing circles into the steering wheel, “we just keep looking. We’ll watch the rest of the security footage and forensics took swabs of everything. We’ll find something.”
“What does any of that matter?” Yoongi scoffed, “he admitted he was there but without any actual proof that he hit her then we’ve got nothing. We’re gonna find traces of him in her apartment, he goes there to see his daughter. If we see him on the footage, big deal, he said he was there. You know? We need real, hard evidence that he beat her.”
“We’ll get it.” You insisted and Yoongi sighed, running his fingers along the door handle.
“How?”
“I don’t know,” you said, “but we will. We need to get a warrant to search his place; try and find that bat. We’ve got enough probable cause to go to a judge. I just don’t buy his story. He showed up at his ex-girlfriend’s house at 5 am to drop off a tiny bat he got engraved for his daughter? Bull. Why wouldn’t he drop it off when she was there? Wouldn’t he want to see her face when she gets it…if it’s really that important to them?”
“When we get back to the office we need to compile all the evidence we can find and call the judge. I wanna get this guy.”
Thanks to Ms. Jiang’s information, pinpointing when Mr. Grant would have walked by certain stores was easier and both Yoongi and you were able to find him on multiple security cameras on the morning of your victims beating. With that, Ms. Jeong’s statements, and the other affidavits of the victim’s family members, and Mr. Grant’s own admission that he was in fact there that morning, you were able to secure a warrant for his apartment.
Mr. Grant seemed surprised to see you when you arrived, a few officers flanked behind you. “I don’t remember inviting you to my house for dinner.” He replied sarcastically and you smiled, holding the warrant up.
“We have a warrant. These officers would be happy to explain the details of it to you while you wait outside with them.”
“What are you even searching for?” He complained, stepping outside while both Yoongi and you walked into his apartment, “I told you I didn’t do anything.”
“Then you should have nothing to worry about.” You replied.
Mr. Grant’s apartment was a little older, a little run down from neglect. The living room was standard fair; a small TV in the corner on top of a table that had seen better days and flanked on one side were curtains, yellowing with age.
Both Yoongi and you split up, a couple other officers helping to fill in the gaps as you searched for anything you could find that would give you answers you needed; specifically the little bat Ms. Jiang had mentioned.
Mr. Grant’s apartment was dirty and you wondered absentmindedly if any man would actually bring a date here to this mess or if this was a byproduct of two days. In moments like these, you were glad to be wearing gloves. Not one single ounce of you wanted to touch anything in this place with any less protection.
You could hear Yoongi calling you from the bedroom so you made your way out of the bathroom and towards the back of the apartment where Yoongi stood, a tiny wooden bat hanging from his gloved fingers.
“Think this is it?” He asked as you walked closer, looking it over.
“Probably. Bag it and we’ll see if it’s got anything to say.”
After searching through every nook and cranny of the apartment, you all returned to the office to have the bat analyzed by forensics. The victim was still in the hospital in a coma and this was more frustrating than anything else. A little girl was out there without her mom and you weren’t even sure if she’d ever get her back.
It made you want to pull your hair out.
Both Yoongi and you spent the next few days following up with leads on your cold case and coming up empty handed every time. It was frustrating to feel like you were doing everything you could to succeed and there was always a wall in the way.
The case had gone cold years ago, almost 11 years now, and the family had been waiting with no answers. Leads had basically all dried up by the time the case made it onto your desks and you’d been backtracking in an effort to find anything the original officers had missed.
Initially it had seemed like an open and shut case, kid was 18, a legal adult. She probably ran away. Her parents were uptight and had a lot of rules. The more the officers dug, though, the more grey the evidence became. Things left behind that didn’t make sense for her to leave, like her money, all her clothes, and her brand new puppy.
Testimonials from friends and relatives about what a happy and secure young woman she was…it just didn’t add up. Why would someone like that run away? Typically, runaways were troubled and facing a lot of trauma. She just didn’t fit the box.
She would be 29 now; if she was still alive. It seemed unlikely after all this time, but you wanted to at least give her family some closure. You couldn’t even imagine if your sister or either of your brothers had gone missing when you were growing up. Your family was a massive piece of you; you would be empty without them.
The weekend was time off for you and you spent most of Sunday lounging in bed. You could heard Yoongi puttering around in the kitchen or living room before he’d disappear back into his room to mess around on his laptop.
It was comforting to have him around, even if you were both doing your own things. Having him with you just felt as if there was something you’d been missing all along and it had finally been identified and returned to its place. You liked to think you had control over your little school girl crush from back at the academy, but honestly it had built over the years and morphed into something much closer to a word you didn’t even want to think about yourself. It was too terrifying.
A knock at your door startled you from your thoughts and you called out for Yoongi to come in. He stepped through the door, still in a pair of blue flannel pajama bottoms and an old white t-shirt. Even now he looked handsome. The door stayed open beside him as he tucked his hands into the pockets against his thighs, surveying you as you lounged in bed looking over at him.
“Nice double chin.” He smirked and you scoffed, chucking a decorative pillow at him.
“Did you come here for something important or just to annoy me?” You complained.
He chuckled, leaning against the door jam and folding his arms across his chest. “Have you eaten anything today?”
“I haven’t left this bed once and it’s been a blissful 6 hours. There was one moment where there was almost a tragedy and I nearly wet my pants, but thankfully the feeling passed.”
Yoongi frowned, nose wrinkling in distaste. “Aren’t we going to your families place for dinner tonight?”
“What of it? I’ll be up with enough time to shower and look presentable, I promise. Besides, the less I eat now, the more I can eat there.”
“That’s fair,” he conceded, “but I’d rather you not pee your bed; I’d never be able to look at you the same.”
“How do you look at me now?” You teased, eyebrows wiggling and you made sure to accentuate the double chin that looking over at him created.
“Not the way you think I do.” He frowned, upper lip turning up at you. You hated that your heart dropped at that, but you wouldn’t let him see; wouldn’t let him know. If he thought of you as just a friend and his partner, you were happy to fill that role. As long as you could be beside him in some way.
“You don’t like my double chin?” You huffed childishly and he smiled, rolling his eyes at you.
“Get up and shower, woman. Come watch a show with me.”
He left the door way, leaving the door wide open in what you deemed a power move and you groaned, loud enough for him to hear, before dragging yourself from your bed and to the bathroom.
By the time you were both ready to go and making your way down to your car you were practically foaming at the mouth at the thought of food. You were so hungry you’d eat your own left foot if that’s what it took. Yoongi was silent most of the drive, and though this wasn’t exactly strange for him, it did make you wonder what was on his mind.
The crickets were already when you’d arrived and you closed the car door softly, clicking the lock into place. You moved slowly to where Yoongi stood beside the car, staring up at the sky, dusk settling on the horizon.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly.
His gaze lowered to yours, smiling soft and shaking his head. “Nothing really.” His eyes focused in on the spring dress you’d chosen to wear; black and yellow with blooming sunflowers. “You look really pretty, by the way. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you in something like this before.”
He reached out to twist the fabric of your dress softly between his fingers and you heated at the praise; suddenly self-conscious. “Thank you, Yoongi. That’s very kind of you.”
He looked as awkward as you felt so you resumed your walk towards your parent’s home. It was quiet outside, but windows were open, the smell of a hundred dinners wafting out into the evening; a tantalizing temptation from every door.
Yoongi waited with you as you stood outside your parent’s door. If he was nervous to be here, you couldn’t tell, but you were certainly nervous enough for the both of you. Growing up, you’d never brought a guy around, you couldn’t have even if you’d wanted to.
You were the baby in your family with a gap of 6 years between you and your brother Andreas. A surprise, your parents liked to call you. Andreas and Gael in particular liked to baby you. When you were in high school they would stand outside your school waiting for you at the end of each day, flanking you on either side so that no boys would come near you.
They were tall and buff and it was no shocker that no one wanted to be anywhere close enough to date you. It had made you cry tears of frustration on more occasion than one, but your brothers always said that they knew how guys minds worked and there was no way they were trusting them their baby sister.
Now you were an adult and they were both married with children, they had better things to do than to stand outside your place of work and swat away all prospective suitors. In fact, these days your family seemed more concerned that you hadn’t found a man than the other way around.
The door flung open, your aunt beaming wide and throwing her arms around you with wild enthusiasm. “You must be Yoongi!” She smiled, pulling him into the hug and you could feel him go rigid against your back. This was certainly not what he was expecting.
“Oh, we have been waiting so long for this day! Everyone, Y/N brought a man to dinner!” She called loudly into the house and your family cheered.
You wanted to die. “Theía! I told you, Yoongi is my partner at work.”
“No reason he can’t be more.” She smiled, eyebrows wiggling suggestively as she closed the door behind the two of you and dragged you further into the house. “Has anyone ever told you that you would make incredibly beautiful babies, Yoongi?” She asked and you wanted to melt straight into the floor.
Yoongi was clearly a masochist because he smirked at you before turning his gaze back to your aunt. “Actually, I haven’t heard that before, but I agree. I’ve got really great genes to pass on.”
“Stop feeding the troll, Yoongi.” You griped and your aunt swatted at you.
“Don’t be rude, I’m only asking for you. I’m thinking about you, hmm?” She scolded and you sighed, running your hand across her shoulder to pull her into your side.
“Let me worry about it, OK?”
“I don’t know, Y/N,” Yoongi drawled and he had a looked that spelled trouble. You suddenly hated his guts. “I think your aunt is right, we’d make really beautiful babies together.”
“See!” Your aunt cried happily and you could see Palma smiling into her cup from behind her. Gael was giving you an obnoxiously enthusiastic thumbs up from over by the table and your mom looked like she actually thought she would be getting another grand baby soon.
“I’ll actually kill you, Yoongi.” You grit and he laughed, pinching at your cheek.
“Yoongi, nice to see you again.” Your uncle greeted, coming to shake his hand. “Let’s sit and eat, we can continue this baby talk later. Y/N looks like she’ll die soon if we don’t.”
“Thank you, theíos.” You squeezed his shoulder gently, making your way into the dining room and sitting down, Yoongi right beside you.
Palma was giving you a look that you could read all too well and you pointedly ignored her. She could bombard you later through text if she wanted to ask about your partner. You were already mortified enough as it was.
“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.” Yoongi mumbled, eyeing the spread of food and you couldn’t help but smile.
“Wait until you try it. My mom and her sisters learned how to cook from their mom and she was amazing! I remember when she would come to see us, she’d make the most incredible food; real comfort food. Creamy and warm, I’m salivating just thinking about it.”
You watched Yoongi eagerly load up his plate, chatting amiably with your brother who sat across from him and you filled your own plate with all your favorites, practically inhaling everything as soon as if hit your plate. You hummed happily, dancing a little in your seat as you ate and Yoongi glanced at you with a smile.
“Happy?”
“Oh yeah.” You nodded, stuffing feta and cucumber into your mouth and chewing happily.
“So, Y/N,” your mom called from the end of the table and you nodded your attention. “Have you and Yoongi ever thought about dating?”
Globs of feta lodged in your lungs as you inhaled sharp and you spluttered into your napkin, coughing and wheezing as Yoongi patted your back, handing you a glass of water. “What?” you gasped, eyes watering as you looked at your mother.
“The two of you? Have you ever thought about getting together?”
“Mom!” You complained loudly as the table chorused her opinion, “he’s my partner and my friend!”
“Fine line between friendship and love, Y/N.” Your father supplied, sending a kiss to your mother at the opposite side of the table from him. “You know your mother and I met in school as friends. What could be better than making a family with a friend?”
“Please can we stop talking about this?” You cried.
“They mean well,” your sister smiled and you looked at her, frowning.
“You’re not allowed to be on their side, Palma. You know how this feels. He’s sitting right here.” You grunted, pointing your thumb at Yoongi who was currently shoving a fist sized amount of food into his mouth.
He looked over at you, eyebrows wiggling and you grimaced. “Chew your food, you animal.”
“Lovers quarrel!” Gail hooted and you were pretty sure you could see the light at this point because you were positive you were about to die.
“You always complain you’re too busy, you never have time to meet anyone,” your mom whined, “but you’re with Yoongi all the time, there’s no better opportunity.”
“Relationships are not about convenience, mom.” You sighed.
“No, but they should be built on friendship and mutual respect and you’ve already got that.” Your father insisted.
“We could be magical together.” Yoongi crooned and you rolled your eyes at him.
“You’re giving them hope.”
“I’ve got nothing but hope.” He insisted with a grin.
“What’s the harm in giving it a try?” Your mother asked, waving her arms enthusiastically. “Yoongi seems OK with it.”
“OK, let’s say we start dating and it doesn’t work out. We still have to work together every day in a lot of life or death cases and we don’t need that extra tension.”
“So you’re saying there’s already tension?” Gael grinned and you scowled.
“Drop the subject everyone. Talk about something else, seriously. This is really weird and inappropriate. Talking to me about my love life is one thing, but not like this. This is not OK.” You scolded.
“Fine, fine, fine.” Your mother accepted, sufficiently cowed for now and the topic moved on to something new. You could barely concentrate on conversation at this point. You were angry, embarrassed, and afraid to even look at your friend.
He’d taken everything in his stride, but Yoongi was the type to use comedy when he was uncomfortable…you couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking.
By the time dinner was over you were mentally exhausted from trying to avoid all embarrassing conversations. To Yoongi’s credit, he didn’t seem phased at all. You were grateful he was so levelheaded.
“Want a glass of wine?” He asked as you made your way back into your apartment, dropping your purse by the door.
“Yes please.” You mumbled, following him to the kitchen.
“I don’t actually know where you keep your wine glasses.” He said, pulling a bottle of red from on top of the fridge.
You moved quickly to the other side of the kitchen, pulling some glasses down from the cabinet and he took them from you, moving towards the table to pour you both a glass.
“Cheers.” He said, clinking his glass against yours before taking a sip. You were halfway through your glass before you had enough liquid courage to say anything to him.
“I am so sorry about my family.” You mumbled, staring down into your glass. “They’re so embarrassing.”
Yoongi didn’t say anything for a moment and you wanted to shrink into yourself the longer he stayed silent. What must he think of you? They were practically auctioning you and your empty womb off to him; he must think you’re so desperate. Yoongi sighed and you looked up at him as he shrugged, “it’s not a big deal, Y/N.”
“It is!” You insisted, “it’s one thing for them to do this to me privately, I’ve dealt with it for years…but to drag you into it without really getting your say. It’s like a verbal hostage situation. You didn’t sign up for that. I’m sorry if you felt uncomfortable.”
“I did feel uncomfortable,” he admitted, swirling the last of his wine around his glass, “but not for the reasons you think.”
“What do you mean?” You asked, clutching your glass to your chest like a barrier.
“I just never realized the idea of being with me was so repulsive to you.” He sighed, “It’s not like I wouldn’t be interested, but what I want doesn’t really change things. You need two yeses or it’s always a no.”
You paused, face twisting in confusion. “Wait, what?”
“I’m just saying. Your dad is right, love and relationships should be built off of friendship and we’ve already got that part. I wouldn’t be opposed to trying and seeing where things go, but you’ve always made it fairly clear that you don’t think the same way. It’s not a big deal, life moves on.”
You laughed; breathless. “You think I’d turn you down?”
“Obviously.” He said, jaw ticking as it clenched.
“That’s ridiculous.” You scoffed, “You couldn’t be more wrong.”
“Really?” He asked, eyebrow rising into the hair draped over his forehead, messy from the brush of his fingers. “So if I kissed you, you wouldn’t freak out?”
He was challenging you; you could see it in his eyes and that smirk quirking the corner of his lips. Like he didn’t believe you actually meant what you said. He linked his finger into the neck of your dress, pulling you dangerously close to him, nose bumping yours gently before stopping.
The room was stuffy with energy, a little too warm for your liking but it was too early in the season to turn on the air conditioning. Yoongi’s dark eyes peered curiously into yours, a silent question as he tilted his head to the side.
“This is an interesting game of chicken.” You breathed.
“It’s not a game to me.” He mumbled, eyes darting across your features, noses dangerously close to bumping again.
“I dare you.” You whispered.
He smiled, nose scrunching before closing the distance and all you could taste was him. His mouth was warm against yours, soft in its perusal of the shape of your lips; careful in its inquiries. You thread trembling fingers through the tufts of raven hair at the back of his head, breathing him in.
He tasted like cheap wine and he pulled you from your chair and into his lap, kisses deepening with his breath. This was better than you could have dreamed up; your fingertips alight with the rough of his sweater as you moved from his shoulders and down his arms.
Your fingers dragged across his abdomen and up to his chest and he shivered. “Sensitive.” You mused against his pout and he sent you a glare before pulling you back into him by the back of your head.
Your hand smoothed carefully down the center of his back as you clung to him and he whined, pulling you even closer and your eyebrow quirked in curiosity at what stirred between the two of you.
You pulled back slightly, sending a look down before glancing back at him and biting your lip. “Interesting.”
“It’s more than interesting and I can prove it…if you want.” He breathed, watching your reaction carefully.
“I love an adventure.” You grinned and he stood with your legs wrapped around him, making his way towards your bedroom.
“You mentioned handcuffs last week, right?” He asked, pausing in your doorway. Your eyebrow jumped and he smirked, nosing at the skin just below your ear. “I might need them.” He whispered, pushing through to your bedroom and kicking the door closed behind him.
**
The shrill screech of your alarm woke you suddenly and you flailed, arm reaching towards your bedside table to turn it off.
“Why does your alarm sound like an axe murderer?” Yoongi groaned from beside you, rubbing a hand down his face and you jumped. He was bare chested and the blanket around his waist left little to the imagination. Not that you needed imagination anymore.
Like a tidal wave, all memories from last night came rushing back in. You were mortified. Yoongi was now uncomfortably familiar with everything about you; every nook and cranny of your body, like it was his secret to keep. The sounds and faces you make now his intimate companions. You felt like you were being engulfed in flames of shame.
“We’re gonna be late for work.” You murmured, pulling your sheet to shield your body and standing up, racing to the bathroom.
Once locked in the bathroom you dropped the sheet, surveying yourself in the mirror and you groaned softly. At least it wasn’t too warm yet; wearing a turtleneck wouldn’t be completely unreasonable. You quickly stepped into the shower, taking your time lathering the soap as you wondered if Yoongi had left your room yet.
You weren’t lying when you said you were going to be late for work. You had three different types of alarms to wake you up before work and the shrill screech of the alarm that woke you this morning was the last resort alarm.
You rushed through your morning routine before peeking back into your bedroom to make sure the coast was clear. You grabbed a pair of black slacks and a white turtle neck, dressing quickly and pulling on some shoes, before grabbing your bag and making your way out into the kitchen.
“I’ll be in the car!” You called, not bothering to wait for a reply as you rushed from the apartment and to the elevator. You weren’t sure what to say to Yoongi now; you felt like you’d been such an idiot last night. You weren’t drunk by any means, you’d really only had one glass, but alcohol always loosened you up to the point of bad decision making and now you had to live with the consequences.
Having an intimate knowledge of someone left a lot of vulnerability and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking of you now. Did he think you were easy, were you only a conquest? Could you still be friends? Would you still work well together? You felt sick, pressing the garage level button and feeling yourself sink with the elevator.
You waited in the car, anxiety curling your fingers tight around the steering wheel. Why didn’t you think of the morning after last night? You were awkward at the best of times and today was going to be a royal nightmare.
You watched as Yoongi left the elevator, moving towards where you were parked and distracted by the fastening of his watch. He too was dressed in dark slacks and had donned a white sweater and you blanched at the thought of looking like you were wearing couples clothes.
He pulled open the door, sliding in beside you and slipping on his seatbelt before returning to the fastening of his watch. You left the garage in silence, shoulders high and tight. You weren’t sure what to say, should you even bring it up at all? Maybe it was just better to pretend that it never even happened.
By the time you’d parked and made your way up into the office, you felt like you were about to lose it. People had to be kidding themselves if they thought sleeping with a friend wouldn’t change the relationship. It changed everything.
Yoongi sat down at his desk, turning on his computer and checking voicemails. You slipped your bag from your shoulder, sliding carefully into your seat and staring at the black of your computer screen. What if you’d ruined everything? What if you couldn’t work together anymore? You sighed, closing your eyes as you felt a headache coming on before bending over to switch on your own computer.
“Hey,” Yoongi called and you looked over at him. He had his phone perched between his ear and shoulder and was looking directly at you. “Forensics has got something for us. Let’s go check it out.”
You nodded as he hung up, standing and walking with him towards the elevator. Silence prevailed on the ride up but you tried not to let it bother you; tried to ignore the obvious tension. Yoongi seemed calm and that helped ease your shoulders a little. Maybe it wasn’t as serious as you thought it was. That’s what you’d tell yourself for now, anyway.
You swiped your badge at the door, where Diana was waiting for the two of you, smile ready. “Morning.” She greeted, motioning for you to follow her to her desk. “Here’s the paperwork you’re gonna need.”
“What did you find?” Yoongi asked, flipping the envelope open and you peered over his shoulder into the file.
“Hair and skin from your victim embedded in the bat. Looks like you got your guy.”
You grinned at Yoongi, his own excitement palpable as he snapped the folder closed. “Let’s go get him.”
**
Mr. Grant groaned as he opened the door to his apartment, rolling his eyes. “Here to search me again?”
“Not quite.” Yoongi said, “Turn around, please.”
Mr. Grant huffed a laugh, turning around and sliding his hands behind his back. You stepped forward, placing the hand cuffs around his wrists. “Timothy Grant you are under arrest for assault and attempted murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to have a lawyer with you during questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. If you decide to answer questions without a lawyer present, you have the right to stop answering at any time.”
“I want a lawyer.” Mr. Grant scoffed, “you’ve got nothing on me. I didn’t even do anything.”
“We’ll see about that.” You smiled, leading him towards the squad car. After the other officers had taken him for booking, both Yoongi and you made your way back to the office, high off adrenaline.
“The vic is still in a coma,” Yoongi remarked as he drove, “but the doctors said they’re seeing positive signs of improvement.”
“Good.” You murmured, stepping from the car. “That family has been through hell.”
The air conditioning of the office was a welcome relief. It was definitely too hot to be wearing a turtleneck, but there was no way you could wear anything else. Especially not around the man who’d wreaked so much havoc on the skin of your neck and clavicle. Even the thought of it was mortifying.
You tugged at the neck of your sweater, fanning yourself with one hand. “Why are you even wearing that?” He asked, looking over at you and you glared at him.
“I think you know why.”
He looked smug.
You turned to your computer, sifting through messages you’d gotten since yesterday. The very last one caught your eye; with a timestamp of 2:45am blinking in red. The subject read “In reference to your cold case” and you clicked on it instantly.
“Yoongi, look at this!” You said, waving him over. He slid his chair over by yours, leaning forward to read your email.
“A new witness?” He murmured and you nodded excitedly.
“It says she’s been living out of the country for years and just got back in town. We need to call her.” You grabbed the phone from its cradle, dialing the number left in the email and Yoongi lounged beside you as you waited. “Hello, is this Ms. Russo? Hi, my name is Detective Y/N, I just read your email. Do you happen to have any time to come in today? Yes, an hour would be fine. Ok, great, see you then!”
Yoongi raised his eyebrows at you, lounged all the way back in his chair. “She coming in?”
“In an hour.” You nodded. “This might be the thing that breaks the case.”
“Let’s not get our hopes up too high, though. Healthy expectations, right?” He said, sliding his chair back to his desk and you nodded with a pout.
“Yeah, I know.”
Ms. Russo arrived an hour later; a young woman in her mid-twenties with long dark hair, curling at the ends and deep, dark brown eyes searching the room as she clutched the purse on her shoulder. You greeted her, inviting her to sit with you in the interrogation room, Yoongi already sat waiting with the cold case file.
“Thank you so much for coming in. We were so excited to hear you had information for us, this case has been so daunting.” You said as Ms. Russo sat across from you, setting her purse beside the leg of her chair.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner. My family moved away when I was young and I didn’t really have the means of coming back until now. At the time it didn’t seem like I knew anything important, but I don’t think that’s so true.” She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, fastening her fingers together and looking over at her.
“How did you and Ms. Loft know each other?” Yoongi inquired, flipping open the case file.
“We were best friends.” Ms. Russo said, “She was a couple years older than me, but we lived on the same street almost our entire lives so we grew up really close.”
“In your email you said you had something for us?” You asked and she nodded, reaching into her bag and pulling out an envelope.
“I received this letter about a month ago, just before I moved back here. It’s from her.” You paused, staring down at the letter and you could see her eyes filling with the emotions of years of unanswered questions. “Emily was not the type to run away. I know her; she would never do that. Her parents were strict, but she didn’t resent them for that. Her younger brother died in an accident when we were all kids. It changed them. She would have never done anything to cause more pain, you need to know that.”
She wiped at her cheeks as tears fell, her breath shuddering before she continued. “The day that Emily went missing is the day my family moved. We were taking a taxi to the airport and I saw her out the window, a few blocks from where we lived. She was talking to some guy, but I didn’t recognize him. The conversation seemed tense, but they were across the street from where our taxi was so I couldn’t hear anything. I tried to call out to her to say goodbye, but she didn’t hear me. Just before we drove around the corner, I saw him grab her arm and start pulling her, but then I didn’t see anything else. I was so naïve at the time, but I just figured he was a friend and they were having a fight. I should have insisted we go get her. I didn’t know.”
She passed the letter across the table and with gloved fingers, you picked it up, opening carefully. “This is not your fault.” You insisted, looking over at her, her eyes bloodshot already.
“She’s been forced into prostitution,” She remarked softly, pointing at the letter in your hands, “she’s been waiting for the day they trusted her enough to give her a little privacy and she managed to send that letter. It went to my old house, but somehow it got rerouted to my parent’s place. I don’t know how, it was like a miracle. She gives a lot of details about her circumstances, but she also gives some really good information on where she’s located. Please find her.”
“Do you remember what the man looked like? The one who grabbed her?” You asked and she frowned, staring down at the table.
“It’s been almost 11 years, certain details are foggy, but I remember enough to give you a general description.”
“Would you be willing to do that for our sketch artist and write a statement of everything you saw?”
“Of course.”
While Ms. Russo worked with the sketch artist you sat with Yoongi, reading over the letter. All this time, people just assumed she’d run away. She could have been saved from this. You wanted to cry from the frustration; too many people had written her off, just assumed she was a troubled young woman.
You couldn’t even imagine what her life had been like, the sorrow her parents would feel when they found out. To lose two of their three children was already more than they could bare, you were not looking forward to sharing these new details.
You hoped that at least they would feel hope that she could still be recovered. Best case scenario, she could be found and go into recovery with years’ worth of therapy. She was likely addicted to drugs and would need a lot of help.
Sometimes you still wondered why you’d chosen this career path; the depravity of humanity made you feel so angry and empty.
Knowing you can make a difference in people’s lives, though…saving people from situations they can’t get out of themselves. That’s what drove you to keep going. “What are you thinking about?” Yoongi asked softly and you glanced over at him, perched beside you along the side of your desk.
“Emily.” You sighed, folding the letter and sliding it back into its evidence bag. “I wish things could have been better for her. Different.”
He nodded, watching as Ms. Russo directed the artist to tweak something in his drawing. “Life isn’t fair, Y/N.” He sighed, “The only thing we can do is make the moments we have worthwhile.”
You nodded, humming an affirmative as you stared back down at the envelope. “Yeah.”
**
Later that evening, after Ms. Russo had left and evidence had been sent off to the lab, you stretched, lethargic, in your chair as Yoongi stood from his own, groaning and rubbing at the small of his back.
“I was thinking,” he yawned, “what if I order delivery tonight? We can celebrate with the rest of the wine from yesterday and just relax, enjoy our success.”
“That sounds really nice, actually.” You smiled, standing from your own desk and slinging your bag across your shoulder. It was unreasonably heavy at this time of night, but the idea of warm food you didn’t have to cook called you outside to your car.
The evening was warm and you tugged at the neck of your sweater, a little sweaty after a long day but too tired to mind. The sun had set by now and the world felt still as you made your way towards the car, unlocking the doors and throwing your bag in the back seat.
The wind rushing was your soundtrack as you drove with the windows down. Yoongi had reclined his head, arm out the window and he looked the picture of calm. You wondered if he’d fallen asleep; wondered what his thoughts were about last night, if it was still on his mind like it was yours.
It was easy to brush those thoughts away with the distraction of work, but now in the silence of your car all your questions returned, loud and obnoxious, bouncing around in your brain. He was calm, silent, and aside from asking about your sweater earlier, hadn’t made any mention of anything to do with what happened. You couldn’t help but wonder if you just needed to take a page from his book and relax.
Once you’d made it back to your apartment, you pulled out all the delivery menus for him and told him to get whatever. You needed another rinse off after a long day anyway so you would trust that he knew what to order.
Your bedroom was just as you’d left it; a reminder of the evening you’d spent in Yoongi’s arms. Your clothes from last night were still spattered around the room and you picked them up slowly, dumping them in your hamper. His shirt from yesterday was still draped across the chair by the window and you picked it up, staring at it absentmindedly.
You wondered if you could return it to him without it being weird. You sighed again, dropping it back onto the chair before heading to the shower to rinse off. By the time you were out and dressed in your pajamas, the food had just arrived and your stomach growled eagerly as Yoongi tossed you a pair of chopsticks.
“Chinese takeout?’ You questioned, sitting in the love seat while he dominated the middle of your couch.
“I was craving egg rolls.” He hummed.
You dug in eagerly, groaning happily as you chewed. Yoongi looked up at you with a smile before allowing his eyes to trace the skin of your neck that you’d left bare. You were suddenly self-conscious, acutely aware of just how much of your neck was marked by his mouth.
You hadn’t thought of it when you were dressing, only the doorbell as the food arrived and the growling of your stomach. You shifted awkwardly, taking a big bite of a dumpling and Yoongi looked down at his food, chuckling.
“You don’t have to make it weird, you know?” He commented and you glanced up at him, eyebrows rising. “Don’t stress about it, we can label things or we can just be casual, whatever. I don’t regret last night, though.”
“You don’t?” You whispered and he shook his head, spooning a mouthful of fried rice as distraction.
“Do you?” He queried, looking up at you.
“No. I just didn’t know how you felt about it.” You admitted, pushing some of the food around your plate. You could feel his eyes on you, but you weren’t brave enough to meet them yet. “I don’t regret it, though.”
“Good. Then so far, we’re on the same page.” The two of you allowed silence to lapse for a few moments as you ate, quiet but content. “I started thinking about what your mom said.”
“Huh?”
“Last night, what she said about friendship and love and what not. Felt weird to be talking about that last night in reference to us because it was like all my secrets were suddenly out. I figured that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to say something. If it was really just me feeling this way then at least I’d know where I stood.”
“It’s not just you.” You whispered, smiling shy as you grabbed some chow mein noodles to drop on your plate.
“Come here.” He mumbled, reaching out for you, pulling you into his side, thighs touching and his fingers danced across your waist, tugging you close. “Whatever you want this to be, let’s do that. I’m happy as long as you are.”
Your hip burned where he touched and you picked up a water chestnut, popping it into your mouth and chewing idly. “I’ve always been one for knowing where I stand in a relationship.”
“Like dating?” He asked and you nodded softly. “Then tie me down, baby.”
You chuckled, rolling your eyes, “you do realize this means my family is going to really start asking when you’re gonna put a baby in me, right?”
Yoongi grinned wolfishly, running the tip of his nose down yours, leaning in for a kiss that took the air right out of your lungs. “We’re gonna need a little more practice before that,” he teased, fingers dancing at the back of your scalp, “gotta make sure I really know how to shoot the shot.”
You laughed, scandalized. “Practice makes perfect.” You agreed, leaning in to kiss him again and he returned the affection eagerly.
“First, I’ve gotta finish these egg rolls though. They’re incredible; definitely pin this take out place to the fridge.”
You laughed, watching him bite into another egg roll, moaning as he chewed. He looked over at you and down at your nearly forgotten plate. “You’d better eat up, baby, you’re gonna need your energy.” He smirked.
“You talk a big game.” You grinned, filling your plate with more food.
“Only because I know I can back it up.”
“I look forward to it.” You winked.
****
I hope you enjoyed and I look forward to hearing from you! <3
Copyright © 2020 by Taeken-My-Heart. All rights reserved.
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Monday Fairytale
“Shit, I’m short.”
Y/N glanced at the cashier of the bagel truck with a wry smile with just slightest hint of reassurance that she was in fact trying her best to not claw through her handbag just to make up the remaining fifty cents.
Fifty cents. That was how much she was short of. She felt every single penny wrap around her neck in a godforsaken noose— more so for holding up the line than not popping by the ATM to have cash on her.
“Ma’am, if you could just—“
“I got it, I got it,” she frantically replied, using up all of her pre-caffeinated sanity to sound composed even as the contents of her wallet screamed in desolation. “Just give me a second, I’m so sorry.”
“Lady, just step to the side,” a nasally complaint from certainly the man behind her— one that accompanied a scowl, she was sure— leered around her. Y/N would usually just shrug off the attitude. She lives in a big city. Absolutely no one has the time to be nice or patient, but she was panicking.
Y/N dreaded the thought that fifty cents might be one of the few things she would ever ask any figure at all pertaining a higher power. She had no time to beat any other rush hour breakfast line except this one.
“No, miss,” a voice embodying the euphoria that overtakes your forehead after a good painkiller replaced the commotion of impatient customers. “I insist. It happens, I’m happy to cover this for you.”
Y/N stepped to the side almost immediately just so she could have the foot space to turn around in pure amazement at the modern day angel who had just stepped in to declare his menial—but life-changing— philantrophy.
Before she could even utter a word of gratefulness, it seemed the cashier shared in her shock as the sharply dressed man next to her handed over a sizable stack of notes.
Gods above and devils below— he was stratospherically handsome.
Another moment of panic had set in as Y/N feared that she was in a dream and that she could be any way later than she already was for her meeting. She had seen her fair share of happiness and tragedies in this ancient metropolis, but handsome men in expensive office attire were strictly reserved for movies.
His medium grey shirt adorned each detail of his uncannily perfect upper body as if the tailor had a marble sculpture of the man to work off from. His stature was tied together beautifully with pants of a slightly darker shade that Y/N would not have been able to pin on a spectrum and a belt of which she had no doubt the morning sunlight must have drawn inspiration from.
“Hey, pal,” the same nasally voice shredded her momentary day dream, and she was now able to see that it in fact came from the scoundrel behind the subject of her Monday bliss— which in theory sounded oddly paradoxical. “I appreciate the chivalry but—“
“This should cover everyone, right?” The gentleman continued, politely swatting away the interruption like a pesky fly on a hot summer day. “Just give me that one over there. I’m good with that.”
Y/N hoped that he wouldn’t notice at all that she was still in pure awe at his abnormal generosity. The bagel line that extended close to the entrance of the apartment building nearby went from being annoyed at her incompetence to otherworldly charmed by this knight in Hugo Boss shining armor.
She couldn’t have seen the man politely handing over her order the next second as he excused himself from the line. Y/N could see that the cashier was still trailing her eyes in shock at the abnormality of wealth distribution on a godforsaken Monday morning.
“And this is yours, I believe,” the handsome man joked. Y/N chuckled softly as she took the paper bag from his hands and she could swear back and forth that he was magnetic. “Don’t worry about that guy. I have to get going now, though. Have a nice day.”
Y/N could have sworn he lingered his gaze on her just a little longer. It seemed that her manners had gone silent, but before she could part her lips just enough to say thank you— since a situation involving her slamming him against the lamp post in an impromptu makeout session wasn’t appropriate— he disappeared with one last smile into his chauffeured black Benz.
Y/N walked in pure awe towards her office building for the next few blocks as she both tried to demolish her meal without smiling too hard. This had to have been a fever dream or just that one instance in life when the cinematic universe bleeds over for corporate hamsters like her to feel less awful about their glass office prisons.
She hadn’t noticed that she was still smiling ear to ear until her manager, forcibly called Bang P.D of his own coercion and no one else’s, stopped her in her tracks.
“What the hell are you so chirpy about, sunshine?” He snapped, lumping a stack of paperwork right on her desk. The coffee in her hand would have met the floor had she not resumed her usual Monday dread.
“Nothing,” Y/N muttered, shoveling the stacks to her end of the table. “Just in a good mood.”
“Hopefully that carries on in the meeting later,” he scoffed, turning his heel to exit her office. “If you don’t get Kim Seokjung to sign on with us, you can get acquainted with the water cooler again.”
Monday morning was never properly settled without an empty threat from Bang P.D. Y/N was almost grateful that her fairytale bliss was disappearing. Smiles are rarely ever genuine in corporate and she hated to kid herself.
Y/N was never going to see this guy again. He probably had a woman waiting for him to be a million times more chivalrous to that he had to rush to see. She was just a lucky commoner caught in the threads of his charming web.
She had underestimated the bliss, really. It trailed her to the meeting room shortly after and the mile high view of the park and skyscrapers below only heightened her little euphoria. The rich— especially the handsome bunch— really do know how to capture the commoners by the heartstrings, it seems.
“Wipe that glee off your face or Bang P.D will do it with his forced overtime, Y/N,” Nayeon, her co-worker and the closest concept she has to a friend in this lonely city, pinched her gently. “Seriously, some of us are miserable. Kim Seokjung is a dickhead and if he cancels today, it will be the third time.”
“Someone paid for my bagel,” Y/N whined, glancing at Nayeon with a small smile. “And for everyone else in line as well.”
“Crack? Is that what you do, Y/N?” Nayeon hushed, shooting her an affectionate yet snarly glare. “That literally never happens.”
“I’m telling you it did,” Y/N insisted, keeping her expressions as complacent as possible as her colleagues began to take their seats. “Though remind me to never go to Riley’s again. What kind of food truck doesn’t take cards these days? After a pandemic too.”
“One that actually makes good food, dumbass,” Nayeon retorted, shaking her head softly at her friend. “You got lucky this time.”
“Yeah, well. I’m hoping the good karma carries on so Bang P.D doesn’t chain you and me all week for fucking this deal up.”
“Way to go. Keep your spirits alive, Y/N. You can do that for a bagel but not a deal that could help you move out of that prehistoric relic.”
“My place is exceptionally tasteful. Excuse you!”
“By that you mean derelict and musky— and not the good kind! You just willingly walk up five stairs. Couldn’t be me.”
The girls laughed among themselves for the few seconds of fleeting happiness they were allowed. Nayeon was right. If Kim Seokjung bails and chooses another PR firm for his book tour, Y/N would for sure become acquainted with the water cooler and the staff room dish rack. She was the one who brought him on to try and make a name for herself, but it seemed she had not picked the right old money know it all with an out of touch book and too much dough to blow.
“Look alive, ladies,” Bang P.D snapped his fingers towards them. Y/N had gotten over the disrespectful threshold. She wasn’t a human in his eyes anyway. “He bailed again. His brother is filling in.”
And neither Y/N or Nayeon knew. The girls turned to face each other in pure panic as they had not been notified prior. The fear in their eyes seemed to inquire which of their incompetence allowed for this to happen.
“Chill,” Bang P.D continued. “I didn’t know either. He literally called in just this morning. I’m just ready to wrap this over with. Kim Seokjung could send his damn poodle at this point.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint, then.”
All the heads in the room collectively whipped around to behold the owner of the apologetic statement. Y/N gulped as her eyes widened like saucers at the sight of the handsome man who took care of the bagel rotting in her stomach.
“No fucking way,” she thought to herself, the realization blaring in her eardrums.
Kim Seokjung had a brother and he was the man who gave the cashier at a bagel truck a stack just to make time move faster for him. Kim Seokjung had a brother who was punctual and funny.
“Tiki, his poodle, would make a better co-signer than me, but I was told you needed a human,” he continued.
A soft laughter roared through the room, and Y/N giggled to herself simply because she had never seen Bang P.D panic before.
So much so that she almost didn’t take notice of the handsome man locking his gaze with her briefly— as if he too was pleasantly surprised to see her again. She didn’t know if she was just adamant to get it all over with, but she held his gaze long enough to whisper a soft thank-you-for-this-morning to the multimillionaire bagel philanthropist north of her seat.
He shook his head as if his gesture was just so normal in his routine, and Y/N swore he kept his eyes on her long enough to ignite just a faint hue of blush on her cheeks.
Nayeon swiveled her focus back and forth from her and the handsome man. Y/N knew that she must have figured out the whole ordeal because she slumped in her chair and rolled her eyes with a smile.
“I’m Kim Seokjin,” the handsome man gave a name to his otherworldly existence. “You probably haven’t seen me around at all because I like to sort of manage in the background, but I would just like to apologize for my brother’s previous tardiness. Truly I’ve tried all my life and still can’t contain it, so I will fully sign once and for all today. The proposal is excellent. May I know who initiated it?”
“She did,” Nayeon perked, directing his gaze yet again towards Y/N. “All of it. Her name is Y/N.”
Bang P.D looked both dejected and furious that he even pinned all of the responsibility on her. Y/N could only manage a small smile as she nodded and affirmed her work.
“Very well, then,” Seokjin nodded, uncapping his fountain pen as she glanced at her for every dotted line he glided his name across. “Am I able to discuss more about the terms with you after this meeting, Y/N?”
“She would love to,” Nayeon interjected once again, to both the dismay and gratefulness of Y/N of course. “In fact I think she could benefit from someone who listens. She doesn’t get much of that around here. Hah.”
Hah. Nayeon made sure to always end every valid observation as a joke as nobody else in the office understood her brand of snarky humor as well as Y/N.
Y/N was simply just overwhelmed with relief that her gamble had paid off in the best way possible that it was even hard to accept so much satisfaction with her work. It didn’t come from Bang P.D and she wws all too grateful for that.
“She’s right,” Y/N finally spoke. “I could go over the clauses after.”
Y/N could feel Nayeon’s deadpan that’s-it from beside her. Y/N wasn’t as brave as Nayeon. She wasn’t some old money graduate who could treat this job like a past time and get away with so many snarky remarks. Even in the face of a literal old money angel, she had to be professional.
“Okay, well,” Seokjin dropped the pen back into his shirt pocket. “Meeting adjourned now, yes? I apologize once again. If not me then I’ll make sure my brother enjoys your consideration.”
The staff could not wait to wrap up their supplies upon the dismissal, and Bang P.D practically pulled Seokjin up by his shoulders just for a handshake. Nayeon had joined the rest of the crowd as they shuffled out of the office, and once Y/N could catch that heart fluttering gaze of his again, she mouthed she would be right in her office whenever Bang P.D was done with his overwhelming gratefulness.
Seokjin knocked on the glass in the same manner a confident yet slightly timid schoolboy would on his way to make an impression with his crush. Y/N was sure he had swindled many like her before, but there was an air of genuine intent surrounding him as he made his way to sit in front of her.
“I hope you had a warm welcome,” Y/N began, glancing over to the side for a split second to see Nayeon looming over with a coffee mug in her hand and an encouraging brow raise.
“I sure did,” Seokjin replied, his hands individually and politely resting on the arm rests. “It’s not everyday I try and help a beautiful woman and I see her later with a manager that would have liked me to be a poodle.”
“Well,” Y/N continued. “It’s not everyday I meet a bagel enthusiast somewhat bent that I wrote an astounding PR proposal. So much so he has to see me alone.”
Seokjin shook his hand and still so politely laughed at her professional dismissiveness. If he was marvelously gorgeous at ground level, he was hard to not melt at the sight of on the 60th floor. Y/N had no idea Kim Seokjung had more to offer than tardiness. She was entirely too grareful he never showed up.
“I am quite serious about that. Thank you for seeing the potential so many others turned down. I know he’s my brother and I’m almost always inclined to be biased, but with you and your team on our side I think I will perhaps sleep better.”
“Why is that so?”
“He’s not exactly easy to make likable. I don’t like him most days.”
“I have a strong bias and inclination that you are the opposite most days, Mr Kim.”
“Most days, Miss Y/N?”
And if Nayeon had instilled anything in her at all, it all boiled down to this next tongue-in-cheek catch.
“All of them if you’d like to hear that.”
Seokjin clasped his hands together gently and eagerly leaned forward as if there was no one on earth he would rather speak to but her.
“And would it be formal of me to formally invite you for dinner with me tonight whenever you and I can meet as Jin and Y/N?”
“I—,” Y/N was struggling to meet his eyes as confidently as she had been prior to this romantic proposition. She wanted badly to say yes, of course, but Y/N was never someone who approached flirtation with her brain. It was always with her issues, and she could feel his warm gaze dropping ever so slightly at her clear hesitation. She did not want him to think he was rejected, but she had herself to think of first.
It wasn’t entirely rushed that he had signed the proposal so quick. Her firm had been delayed a few times that everyone on the team, including the janitor, could recite the clauses by heart. Nayeon and her had a firm plan to approach everything. She was well within her professional competence and his interest in her came out of a kind curiosity than forcible persuasion.
Her work was very, very unlikely to be interrupted. Seokjin approved of the terms and expressed his satisfaction prior to knowing that it was her who drafted it. He really was unequivocally interested in her for her and whatever enticing demeanor she radiated from the bagel instance until now.
So why was she hesitating so much? Even if all societal connotations were eliminated, it would not be so abnormal for her to just say yes.
“Y/N, you know exactly why,” the voice in her head interrupted, causing her eager smile to hang onto her hesitation just a little longer.
She had seen many hopeful interns and young professionals walk to their cubicles looking dreary and defeated beyond just corporate dread too many times. She and Nayeon have had to push past the lines at the clubs and rescue one too many dreamy-eyed youngbloods trying to fix their broken hearts by killing their livers.
However, it seemed that Nayeon in this current moment had every intention to murder Y/N in broad daylight if she didn’t agree. She had figured out the situation from meters away and threw a deathly, coercive scowl towards Y/N as her claws sunk unintentionally into the forearm of an unsuspecting male intern.
“I will kill you,” Nayeon mouthed, scrunching her lips as she urged Y/N to agree— a feat Nayeon had never shown before due to her unassailable distaste for the male species.
But Nayeon was from the same old money circle as Seokjin’s. She had to have known a few things Y/N could never grasp.
Even more simple than all of this mental gymnastics— her heart tugged at the sight of him. He was a hopeful boy shooting his shot at a girl he was interested in.
“Well...” Y/N began, relaxing her shoulders as she pushed her chair further. “I work very hard so I most likely won’t be too cute when I get off, but does 8pm work for you?
“8pm has never worked better,” Seokjin sighed in relief as if he had been hanging onto every breath that she drew. “Please come as you are. I’ll be happy to see you however.”
The content on his face was paramount. The kind of happiness for someone who anticipated a rejection but was grateful the universe ended up on their side. Y/N wondered if a man Seokjin ever got rejected before, and if he has then it had to have surely been someone who eclipsed her in terms of... well, literally everything.
This led her to a train of doubt Nayeon had taught her not to have. Why was Seokjin even interested in her? And why in god’s name can she not put a finger on where she had seen him before? He looked far too familiar and it was an observation she had not deduced prior.
If all rich and handsome men shared the same features, Y/N thought Seokjin had the créme de la créme.
Y/N hadn’t noticed that he seemed to have snapped out of his own daze of being entranced with her, much to her own surprise. He uncapped that marvelous fountain pen again and handed it over to her alongside his business card.
“Please give me your number,” he requested, looking once again nervous and Y/N once again wondered why. “I want to let you know I’m looking forward to seeing you.”
Y/N couldn’t help but relax her shoulders and laugh endearingly at his wonderfully timid disposition. She took the pen from his hands and touted quietly to herself that her number had never looked more beautifully written. Seokjin took his business card from her and gently put it back into his suit pocket alongside the pen.
“I wish I could look at you longer, Y/N,” he spoke softly, his shoulders hunched eagerly forward in the same manner as when he asked her out. “But I’m horrifically late for my next meeting. I’ll pick you up in the lobby at 8pm.”
“You best get going then!” Y/N blurted, not really wanting him to leave— if at all— but rather out of worry that she might be a minor inconvenience. Even if the younger brother of the richest family in Seoul had just asked her out.
Seokjin dropped his smile ever so slightly at her accidental dismissal, and Y/N shook her head like she had never wanted anyone to think otherwise so badly.
“No, no,” she insisted, chuckling softly at her own insolence. “I mean, I can’t wait to see you as well. I usually don’t agree often if at all, but the pandemic is over. Might as well take a chance, right?”
Y/N could see that Nayeon’s jaw had dropped in pure shock at what had just exited her lips. It was as if she could detect the curtness of her words from across the office. Call it a best friend’s intuition.
“Oh, if she’s not gonna kill me, she’ll at least strangle me for this,” Y/N thought to herself, hoping Seokjin at least found her dryness somewhat humorous.
It was if the heavens listened to her because he too started laughing as his gaze lingered on her the whole time he left his seat and walked slowly towards the door.
“I promise I’ll let you know more when I see you again, Y/N,” he wished her well, his smile reaching his eyes as they twinkled towards her. “Until then... have a day as beautiful as you are.”
Before another word could exit her lips, he bowed ever so slightly and left with his bodyguard by his side. She hadn’t even noticed that the guy was there, but she did notice the lingering gaze on Seokjin’s face even as he headed towards the elevator. She could not help but display the same hopefulness to let him know that she too couldn’t wait as well.
When his marvelous stature disappeared in the elevator, Y/N had never wanted to work harder just so the hours could fly fast enough until she could look into those capitative brown eyes again.
What else could have wanted to tell her that it was best saved for later?
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Drunk On You
I’m not drunk, just really tipsy
....you’re drunk, you mean
•
Pairing: Best Friend!Jaehyun x OC
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, contains slightly mature themes
In which Jaehyun needs a night of intoxication to realize his feelings and to act upon them.
•
“Jaemi, are you ready?”
The voice of my best friend echoes throughout our shared apartment. I take one last look at myself in the mirror, making sure I have everything I need on me, and rush out the door of my room.
“Yes, Jae, yes, I’m comi-“ Looking up, the sight of my best friend stops me in my tracks. He’s dressed in a smart casual outfit, just jeans, leather shoes, and a black, button-down, dress shirt. On any other guy, the outfit would be bland, mediocre even. Basic.
On Jaehyun, the outfit was capable of conquering a New York Fashion Week runway.
“Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go.” I blink, gathering myself and following him out the door. As we exit the apartment building, he tinkers with his phone, calling a cab to take us to a club in Hongdae, where our friend and fellow senior, Mingyu, would be celebrating his 23rd birthday. We wait patiently on the sidewalk, and when the cab comes to pick us up, Jaehyun opens the door for me, gesturing for me to get in. I do, greeting the driver as I settle down in my seat. Leaning against the car door, I tilt my head to look at my best friend.
Meet Jung Jaehyun- or Jung Yoonoh, when I was being serious with him. My full-time best friend and high-key closet crush for the past four years of our friendship.
We met in college, both freshmen at the time, both thrilled with the independence and freedom that came with dorm life. The one class we had in common was Contemporary Literature, and during the second week of class, I remember him asking to occupy the seat beside me. I’d nodded nonchalantly, not giving much thought to him- that was, until the professor called on him and he opened his mouth to read aloud the poem we were currently studying. His voice was beautiful, but what drew me in was the way he recited the poem with such emotion and precision, as if he had read it a hundred times prior to that moment.
When he sat back down, I’d immediately tapped his shoulder. What started out as me asking about poetry reading techniques, turned into study dates, and eventually, full-blown hangouts at each other’s dorm room. He became the person on the other end of my many late night conversations, and the one receiving my daily ‘good morning’s. He was always there for me, and I for him.
Soon enough, I was crushing on the gentleman.
The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment I started falling in love with him. It happened slowly, gradually. I remember suddenly feeling my heart soaring whenever his chivalrous side came out- which, admittedly, was all the time. Little things like holding the door open for me, asking if I had already eaten, and helping me carry my things when I was overloaded with baggage made my heartbeat race a hundred miles per hour.
Of course, my conservative self refused to accept that she would be so stupid as to have feelings for someone that thought of her as a best friend, a sister, even. I’d denied my feelings all throughout the year.
Then he’d started crushing on someone in his Political Science class. He’d come to me, all excited and flustered, his mouth blabbing about the girl that sat beside him and how they were partners for a project, which meant that they would be seeing each other much more often. My chest immediately felt heavy, and my fingers gripped my notebooks tight. I was jealous.
But being a supportive best friend, I plastered a smile unto my face and listened to him talk about her. Even if I was hurting, it was still endearing to see his eyes light up whenever he talked about something that made him happy.
I’d tried my best to move on, tried to accept that he’d never love me the way I wanted him to. I watch him now, typing away on his phone, grinning at whatever the other person is saying, and avert my gaze to the window when my chest swells at the sight of his smile. No matter how hard I tried, my feelings would always just be there.
“We’re here.” The driver announced, and we exit the car after paying the fare. I enter the club with him right behind me, and immediately, I’m enveloped in a bear hug.
“You made it!” A familiar voice cheers into my ear.
I grin as the person pulls away, coming face to face with a very well-dressed Bambam. “Good to see you, Bam.”
“Come on, Mingyu reserved a private room for us.”
Given Mingyu’s wide range of social circles, I’m surprised to find only a handful of people occupying the room. They seem to be his close friends, as I recognize them from whenever they hung out together around campus.
“Hey, Jaemi! Jaehyun!” Mingyu calls from his spot in between who I believe to be Jeonghan and Yugyeom. “Glad you could make it. Help yourselves!” With a wave of his arm, he gestures to the bar stationed at the left side of the room. I take the invitation, ordering a drink for myself after greeting him and sitting on an empty spot on the couch. Jaehyun sits beside me, followed by one of his friends, Seokmin.
After a couple hours of conversation, dancing, and drinks, my brain is hazy. My eyesight is slightly blurry, and there’s a thrum in my veins.
I return to the room after dancing with another friend of Mingyu’s, stumbling over my feet just the slightest bit. Trying to make my way to the couch, I bump into a hard body, feeling the person’s hands come up to hold me by my elbows, stabilizing me. I look up and recognize the brown eyes that stare back into mine, getting a giddy feeling in my chest.
“Jaehyun...” I mumble, a smile growing on my face.
“Are you drunk?” He slurs.
I laugh absentmindedly. “No, I’m not, I’m just really tipsy...”
“So you’re drunk.” He states hazily. Then he giggles uncharacteristically. “Me too.”
“Let’s sit, Jaemi.” He says. His footsteps are wobbly too, as we make our way to the couch. At the last second, he trips over nothing, and crashes down onto the couch, dragging me with him. We both burst out in a fit of giggles, laughing at nothing in particular. I shift to the side, sitting beside him with one leg draped over his. Our sides are touching, and he lays a hand on my knee, tracing random shapes on my bare skin. My head drops onto his shoulder. We remain in that position for a while, my heartbeat racing because of the alcohol and our incredibly close proximity. There are random exchanges of nonsense between us, things that only intoxicated minds can come up with. Probably not thinking clearly, I find myself cuddling into his side, burying my face in the crook of his neck. His touch is warm and comforting, and it calms me down a bit.
A sudden burst of bravery from the alcohol running through my veins gives me the courage to press a kiss to the base of his throat.
Jaehyun reacts instantly, looking down at me with curiosity pooling in his eyes. For a short moment, I stare back at him, admiring the way the dim lights fall onto his face, darkly illuminating his features. I close my eyes and grin goofily at him. “You’re beautiful, you know, Yoonoh-yah?”
And it happens too fast for my brain to process, but suddenly our lips are locked in a heated kiss. My eyes fly open in shock, only to close again because of the blissful feeling the physical contact brings. Even in my intoxicated state, years of pent-up emotions manage to come cascading down onto me, and my heart hurts that we’re only doing this because we’re drunk, and he probably still doesn’t see me in that light.
But I push the thought away. To hell with the negatives.
Jaehyun wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me on top of him so that my knees are planted on either side of his hips, the dark fabric of my dress riding further up my thighs. I straddle him, hands holding onto the back of the couch to support me. He holds onto my waist, his touch sending shivers down my spine. The feeling of his hands has me moaning into the kiss- it’s ecstasy to me.
I don’t know how much time we spend making out, but eventually, bottles of water are being passed to me by my friend, Jihoon, who is only sober because of his allergy to alcohol. Always the designated caretaker, he helps me ingest at least two bottles of water, and the copious amount of liquid intake for the night has me stumbling into the bathroom to relieve myself of it all.
I thank Jihoon for taking care of me before I leave, as he helped me sober up enough to make it back to my apartment. Making a mental note to thank Mingyu the next day, I manage to call a cab to bring Jaehyun and I home.
He’s sobered up a bit as well, though not as much as I have, and it takes me a minimal amount of effort to get him into bed. I clean up as much as I can, and just as I’m about to close my bedroom door, I hear Jaehyun call out for me from his room. In an oversized shirt and sleeping shorts, I walk over to his room and see him motioning for me to come closer. Plopping down on the edge of the bed, I rub at my face sleepily.
“What is it, Jaehyun? I’m tired, I want to sleep.”
No response. I look up, and he’s staring at me. Then he holds his hand out to me, as if asking me to take it. I do, and he pulls me to him. Crawling on the bed to come sit on my heels beside his form, I don’t expect for him to suddenly pull me even closer and press a kiss to my lips. He means for it to be quick, I can tell because he pulls away almost instantly, but I follow his movement to keep our lips together. We kiss until we both run out of breath, then he lifts his blanket and offers me the space beside him.
“Stay.” He whispers, eyes swimming with an emotion I can’t distinguish in my partially intoxicated state, face gentle and inviting.
My heart soars for the nth time that night.
I stay.
~~~
Morning comes quickly- too quickly for my liking, and I know when I wake up, that I have to leave my best friend’s warm embrace soon.
But I stay still, pretending to be asleep, because no matter how much it scares me that this would ruin the amazing friendship we had, it was also an extremely rare occurrence. For the first time in my life, I allow my heart to choose, just to enjoy the moment. I turn to snuggle into Jaehyun’s clothed chest more, wrapping my arms around his waist.
“Psst. Jaemi.” My best friend’s chest rumbles as he speaks, moments later. I hum in response, feeling his toned body flex beneath the fabric of his shirt under my fingers as he shifts under the sheets.
“Hm?”
“I’m hungry, and my head hurts. Let’s get brunch.”
“Sure.”
~~~
The smell of waffles, bacon, and other breakfast foods invade my senses. Jaehyun and I are currently sitting at our favorite breakfast place, munching away at our shared plates.
Jaehyun’s phone dings from under the table, and he pauses eating to check it. I’m about to fork some roasted potatoes into my mouth when I see him freeze and his eyes widen by a fraction.
“What is it?” I ask automatically.
He looks me in the eye and shows me his phone screen. Displayed there is a photo of us last night, me holding myself up on top of him with his hands on my waist as we engaged in a passionate lip lock.
I bite my lip, my breath hitching.
“I think we need to talk about that.” Jaehyun mumbles, withdrawing his phone and setting it facedown on the table. I nod, but don’t bother initiating the discussion- I didn’t know how he read it and I didn’t want to assume anything.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that...” he breaks out into this basic monologue that all guys give when they think nothing of all the intimacy that happened the previous night. He’s looking everywhere else except at me, and his voice is an entirely different Jaehyun. Tiny and insecure.
“Okay.” I bite my lip, not realizing that disappointment was evidently displayed on my face. I let out a shaky breath, willing myself to calm down- but even after all this time, it still breaks my heart that he thinks of me as nothing more than his best friend.
“It was extremely wrong of me to take advantage of you like that, especially since you were drunk...”
With the second burst of courage within 24 hours, I cut him off. “You can’t take advantage of the willing, Jaehyun.”
Avoiding eye contact, I pick up my utensils to resume eating my meal, when Jaehyun reaches out, lightly touching my fingers. My eyes flick up to meet his, and I can tell he’s been reading my features and body language, analyzing my behavior.
As expected from a Psychology major.
“Wait, do you-“
I narrow my eyes, frowning a bit. “What?” It comes out rather sharp, defensive.
“Do you..like me?”
The word ‘yes’ is stuck in my throat, yearning to break free. But I use all my self control to prevent myself from speaking.
“Because, if you do, then that’s an entirely different situation...” he mumbles, unsure. He looks defeated, unknowing of what to do and of how to act, so I give in.
“I’ve always liked you, Jaehyun.” My voice is soft, fragile.
My hand drops the fork it’s holding because it’s suddenly enveloped by his.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He pries gently.
His eyes are gentle, inviting. They’re home for me, and in that moment, I want to tell him everything. What leaves my mouth is a filtered answer.
“I convinced myself that you never really looked at me as anything more than your best friend. I was happy being your best friend, even if it hurt.” My eyes fall to my plate as I speak, fingers nervously fidgeting with the lacy table cloth.
His thumb rubs the back of my hand, before letting go and picking up his own utensils. I look up to see a small smile on his face.
“Are you busy tonight?”
My mouth opens to answer him no, but he cuts me off. “Nevermind. Don’t answer that. You are busy tonight, because I’m taking you out.” He forks a piece of waffle into his mouth, flashing me a goofy grin.
Heart soaring, I mirror it with a smile of my own.
~~~
Dates with Jaehyun were not so different from our usual hangouts. We did what we normally did as best friends, except with a lot more handholding and physical affection. I remember lining up for milk tea and Jaehyun wrapping an arm around my shoulders when the female barista had started flirting with him.
Swoon.
It’s 8pm and we’re walking along Han River after seeing a movie and playing at the arcade, milk teas in one hand and our free hands enclasped in between us. The sounds of the city are distant across the water, and what occupies my senses are the smells and sounds of the calm river.
We find a ledge to sit on, our feet dangling from the height of it. There’s a good amount of space in between us, and we sip the last bits of our drinks in silence.
It’s only later on that we speak again.
“Remember in our freshman year, when you went to this party with that guy from the debate team?” Jaehyun brings up randomly. I flip my hair over my shoulder to look at him, finding that he was already watching me with his warm, brown eyes.
“Yeah?”
He smiles bitterly. “Do you remember what an asshole he was?”
I fall silent at the unpleasant memory. I’d forgotten about that bit.
“I remember finding you sitting in the corner, staring down at your hands with the saddest look on your face. No matter how hard you tried to smile and convince everyone that you were okay, I knew you weren’t. I’d never wanted to hurt anyone as much as I did that day.” His voice is laced with the tone of aged anger, one that told me he had moved on, but still regretted everything that happened. “It’s times like that that make me wish I’d taken you myself.”
“Why didn’t you?” I ask, voice soft.
The corner of his lips tug up in a sad smirk. “Don’t know, don’t remember. Maybe I was with some other guys from the fraternity that was hosting, but I regret it. I should’ve stayed with you the entire night and never let him near you.”
I rub the back of his hand with my thumb. “Forget about it. It’s the past.”
He nods. “I know. I just wanted to get it out.”
I smile. “You’re sweet, you know.”
Jaehyun flashes me a grin that makes my stomach do cartwheels. I return it.
“Why did you do it?”
“Do what?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Kiss me.” I say plainly.
“Is it not obvious?”
I roll my eyes. “It would’ve been if you weren’t drunk.”
He nods. “Fair point.”
Silence falls again.
“So, why?” I press.
“Because I like you.”
I should’ve expected it, but I’m caught off guard with his nonchalant confession. “Really?”
“No.” He reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. “I love you.”
My eyes search his to find that he means every word.
“I’ve always loved you, as a sister, as a best friend. It was only recently that I realized I loved you in a different way. As a woman.” He tells me, eyes never leaving mine. My chest is bursting with emotion. “I just never did anything because you never seemed to feel the same way.”
I grimace. “That’s partially my fault.”
He tilts his head questioningly. “How?”
“You’re my best friend, you know that my way of dealing with feelings is hiding them. It’s a self-preservation technique that I developed- maybe also the reason why I never dated.” I shrug.
Jaehyun shakes his head. “I think that you never dated because you never found a guy who would make the effort to understand how you work, who would wait for you to open up and be comfortable. You never found anyone who was willing to climb the walls you built around yourself, who was willing to give you the time of day.” I bite my lip and shift my eyes to the ground.
I feel his finger on my chin, tilting my head up so I could look at him properly.
“Or maybe you just never realized that you’ve been best friends with that guy for a while now, and that he’s madly in love with you.” He tells me truthfully, and I feel the emotion with how he says his words. Ever the great speaker- the very reason I decided to talk to him in the first place.
Despite the overwhelming amount of emotion I feel in my chest, I manage to crack a small smile. “Just a while?”
He chuckles, his eyes growing smaller. “Yeah, just a few four years of our lives.”
His gaze falls on my lips, and he swallows visibly. “Can I-“
Jaehyun never gets to finish his sentence because I close my eyes and kiss him before I lose the courage to. He kisses me back immediately, fingers leaving my chin and moving to the side of my neck, holding me in place. My chest swells, even though the physical contact is kept to a minimum. I find myself smiling into the kiss, and when I run out of air, I pull away. My eyes find Jaehyun’s instantly, and there’s a twinkle in them because he’s so happy.
His lips break out into the biggest smile I’d ever seen him wear, and he leans in again to plant a kiss on my forehead. Jaehyun doesn’t pull away and leans his forehead onto mine instead. My chest feels hot and I have a giddy smile plastered on my face.
“Found you.”
#nct#kpop#seventeen#friends to lovers#best friend!jaehyun#mingyu#bambam#jihoon#fluff#college#nct 127#neo culture technology#got7#jaehyun#jung jaehyun#jung yoonoh#best friends to lovers#best friends#friends
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Spencer Reid x Punk Reader
Starry Eyed Bowties chapter one
Pairing: Spencer x Punk/Emo reader
Summary: when Spencer stops at the same cafe every morning for coffee, he finds himself falling in love with the blue-haired barista who has his drink memorised.
Warnings: like one swear word, angst
Playlist for this chapter:
6/10 - dodie
Can’t Help Falling In Love - Elvis
Clockwork - Makeout
Fuzzy - Poppy
Gorgeous - Taylor Swift
Like Lovers Do - Hey Violet
Locked Out Of Heaven - Bruno Mars
Open Minded - Makeout
Say You Like Me - We The Kings
Your POV
We met at the local cafe/ I was always working the morning shift, and I had his drink memorised. Large coffee, black, two sugars.“Morning, Spencer.” I greeted him.“Morning, (Y/N).” He gave me a tired smile. “This is Derek.”
“Hey.” The stud with him gave me a smile.
I returned his smile with my own and handed Spencer his daily drink. “The usual for you,” I smiled at his friend again. “And you?”
“Uh, yeah, same as him.” He said, chuckling.
I nodded and made his coffee. “On the house.” I winked at Spencer as I handed Derek his drink.
They both thanked me and sat at a table in the back of the place.
A while later, Spencer was back at the counter. I flicked my blue hair out of my face to look at him.
“Hey, (Y/N), I was wondering, uhm, would you like to grab dinner sometime?” He asked, his fingers nervously tapping the side of his cup. “With me?”
I nodded, messing with my earrings as my own nervous habit. “Yeah, Spencer,” I answered with a small smile, feeling a blush come to my cheeks. “I’d like that.”
“If I’m still in the area, would tonight work?” He asked, his fingers still doing their nervous tap dance on his cup.
I nodded again. “Yeah,” I said, the blush in my cheeks growing hotter. “Yeah, tonight works.”
“7:30 work for you?” His fingers had stopped tapping, but now he chewed his lip instead.
I nodded. “7:30 it is.” I handed him my card, which had my phone number and address on it, and gave him a smile as he walked away and rejoined his friend. I watched Derek give him a high five and a clap on the back.
I chuckled to myself and went about my day. It was nearly 6:30 when I got a text from Spencer.
>> Looks like I’m still in the area, are we still on for dinner? -SpencerI chuckled and chewed my lip as I typed out a reply.>> Of course :) still 730?
>> See you then!I got dressed in a simple yet elegant black top, it was off-shoulder but had two thin straps to keep it up without elastic. I paired it with a pair of black skinny jeans, I dug through my drawers to find a pair that weren’t ripped to shreds, and a pair of red boots. I loosely curled my hair and put on a black headband. Red lipstick and thick eyeliner completed my look, my arm tattoos on full display, the opal in my septum ring front and centre.
I looked good, and I hoped Spencer thought so, too.
“You look amazing, (Y/N).” My roommate, Lauren, told me as I was looking at myself in the mirror.
I let out a nervous sigh. “I hope this goes well. He’s an FBI agent, you know.”
“Is he?” Lauren asked, intrigued.
I nodded. “I’ve caught glimpses of his badge. And his gun.”
We heard a car pull into a parking spot outside our open window.
“Oh no, that’s him.” I noted, my palms getting sweaty. “I look okay?”
“Absolutely amazing, (Y/N).” Lauren comforted. “I promise.”
I nodded. It felt like only half a second went by before we heard a knock on the door.
“You get it.” I told Lauren, closing my bedroom door.
I took a number of deep breaths before finally fluffing my hair up one more time and going out to the living room.
“Ah, there she is.” Lauren said, giving me a nod. Spencer was dressed in his usual business casual attire, a dress shirt and pants, patterned tie, and his navy blue Converse sneakers he wore so often.
“These are for you.” He said, handing me a bouquet of flowers. I blushed and smelled them. They were heavenly. Lauren took them to put in a vase and waved us out the door.
“Be safe, have fun.” She told me with a smile as I closed the door behind me. Spencer opened the car door for me, and closed it behind me like a true gentleman.
Then he opened the restaurant door for me. I blushed, like I always did when men were chivalrous.
We sat down at a table, and that was when I told him I was basically every emo/hipster stereotype mixed into one, and that I was vegetarian.
He chuckled. “No worries, they have really good substitutes here.”
I ended up ordering a veggie burger, my nerves calming down enough to actually enjoy my meal.He drove me home, getting the doors for me like the gentleman he was. It was almost 10 by the time I unlocked the door to my apartment.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Spencer.” I gave him a smile.
He nodded. “See you.” It took everything in me not to kiss him there in the hallway of the apartment building.
When I got inside, I couldn’t stop smiling. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
“Go well?” Lauren asked with a yawn as she sat up on the couch.
I nodded. “I think so.” I shrugged. “We made plans for a second date.”
Our second date went just as well as the first. He picked me up with flowers, and opened doors for me. Drove me home. We had a lot more in common than anyone would think, we both loved to read, we were both coffee addicts. He had three PHDs and I had three Bachelor’s degrees. He was sweet, and he somehow always had something to say. His almost constant talking really eased my nerves, and I really opened up to him.
“I really like this guy, Lauren.” I told her the morning after our third dinner date. “He’s wonderful, and he’s a real gentleman. We never seem to run out of things to talk about, and he makes my heart jump every time he smiles at me. I really like this guy.” I put on my work uniform and tied my blue hair into a braid.
“Then tell him that.” She said, sitting up on the kitchen counter with a mug of tea in her hands.
“Lauren. I’m a fuckin blue haired, tattooed and pierced guitarist in a punk band. He’s an FBI agent. This is ridiculous.” I told her with a huff. “Besides, I’m sure he’s talking with other girls, too.”
Lauren shook her head with a low sigh, taking a sip of her tea. “You’re being ridiculous.”
I huffed again and put on my red boots, heading out the door and to work.
I didn’t see Spencer that morning. I assumed he was away on a case.
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That Got Away: A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction Part 7
Inspiration: Katy Perry’s “The One That Got Away”
Union Pulse’s “Better Days”
Rating: Teen Featuring: Spencer Reid x Reader
A/N: I hope you missed Y/N, because this is going down ya’ll. I do not own any of the characters/ images/ lyrics. xoxo Stu
Part 5 Part 6
Spencer had shut off any part of his brain that held emotion and worked the case. Once the local CSI had shown up, he was right beside the techs scouring for evidence. Hotch and Morgan continued to work the profile, adjusting it into a team now that miraculously both JJ and Y/N had been removed from the suite within minutes of being attacked. Spencer was frustrated with what little insight the hotel room was giving them.
He removed the latex glove on his right and called Garcia.
“Speak to me thou who seeks knowledge, “ Penelope beckoned.
“Garcia, I need you on the tapes from an hour ago up until now for the penthouse floor.” Spencer clipped. “The unsubs have JJ, Garcia. And Y/N.”
“Oh no! But,” Garcia was distraught. “Reid, what should I do? Do I call Will?” Her hands a frenzy at the back lit keys. Spencer sighed, thinking about his tiny godson two thousand six hundred twenty four miles away.
“No, Garcia, I will. It’s my fault that they were taken.” Spencer admitted, ashamed. “Just figure out who took them and how they escaped unnoticed with two women.”
“On it, my sweet doctor,” Garcia crooned, worry heavy on her voice and features. “And Reid, stiff upper lip, that big brain of yours is going to get them back.”
You woke up slowly, your face tingling with warmth. The sunlight streamed into your face from above, so brightly that you didn’t know if it was truth or farce. You slowly turned your head, attempting to look around it. Your neck was stiff and your face tender. You were on your back, a cool stone floor your bed. Once your cheek met the contrasting temperature of the ground your heart-rate accelerated, pushing the delayed panic to the forefront of your mind.
You were in your suite with JJ, Spencer’s trusted friend. You had been talking about the letter Spencer had left for you. And what? What was next? How were you here, now, with a face that felt like tenderized round steak? Slowly you sit, the dark room coming into focus after leaving the trail of unfiltered sunshine. Well, at least you hadn’t been unconscious very long. You didn’t know the details, but brain damage occurred the longer someone was out. Spencer would know how long it had been and what your risk was at that length of time.
You had left Spencer and the team to change, why hadn’t you taken their concern seriously? Your father was dead and now you had been abducted. What the hell was this about anyway?! You stood, angry now. “Hello?” You croaked and echoed into the small space. “What the hell do you need me for, huh?!” Your throat mutinied and cracked at the end of your question. Silence answered. Frustrated you kicked the bulking metal door with the pad of your foot, apparently you were barefoot.
After ten minutes of pacing, a faint screeching noise came through the adjacent wall. The only wall that didn’t have a door or a window.
It's funny how the hands that I now hold
Make me feel a little like I might be
Getting old
Spencer was not one for the beach, he didn’t mind sand, he was a dessert kid after all. It was the combination of being wet and sandy that did not appeal to his tidy sensibilities. Kissing Y/N rather muted that notion for him tonight. They were out, alone at night, making out just like normal teenagers. He had never felt this alive or conflicted in his entire life.
The clouds continued to gather overhead, but Spencer’s eyes were closed to the weather. He was focusing on not biting Y/N’s tongue which was surveying his mouth quite repeatedly. His quilt kept her warm from the night air, he held her close, so bundled her arms couldn’t move. Which meant that he was being very chivalrous: bringing a blanket, flashlights, and by not taking off all of her clothes in public. Yes, this was how a gentleman would kiss a woman, not like the last time when he was nearer to a scoundrel teenage boy feeling up a drunk girl in the back of a party.
She was smiling up at him, the light reflecting in her Y/E/C irises. Spencer grinned back, sheepishly. He felt at ease around Y/N, his dear one. She liked him, not just for his brain or how quick he could help her with her homework. She had never needed anything from him. It was just him, his presence, his companionship that this amazing girl somehow craved. This stirred a feeling that he hadn’t found the right words to describe. Her teeth began to chatter and he knew it was time to return to their homes, time to be the responsible young adults that they were.
“Y/N/N, thank you for taking me out tonight,” Spencer spoke over the waves. “I, uh, needed to get out of the apartment, but being with you has been like an oasis, really, a treat.”
She giggled at his confession. “Sir-sir, thanks for letting me teach you to drive.” She wiggled a hand out of her cocoon to hold his as they slowly returned to the waiting Volkswagen. “I know it is not easy for you to take instructions when you already know how to do something.”
“I am finding there are many things that I am willing to learn from you, mon cher,” Spencer spoke softly, eyes watching the shower of sand their feet kicked.
“Together, Spencer,” She corrected him. “We are learning together.” She blushed at him, but was smug in her conclusion. His head was a whirl the whole way home.
Garcia was pissed. The security footage wasn’t blurred or looped, it just wasn’t there. Someone had just shut off the camera on the penthouse floor. She would not stand for this kind of dead end, no she would track down this little evildoer if it was the last thing she did! She began searching all other floors during that time frame.
“Hotch, sir?” Garcia rarely called the boss man himself, but this was necessary. “Sir, we have a complete footage loss on the penthouse floor during the abduction. Someone in hotel security is helping the unsub, unsubs, I mean. May I suggest someone talk to “Kurt” the bellhop that delivered the envelope to Reid?”
“Thank you Garcia,” Hotch huffed, “let us know when you find more.”
Penelope returned to her hive of monitors, some running searches, some rolling through security tapes, some displaying cat memes. The second screen to the left caught her eye, it was the concierge desk the night before. Where a little scamp of a thing was practically skipping across the lobby to deliver a familiar envelope. The unsub knew the camera angles, Garcia could only grab a half of a profile in any one shot. But this changed the game, one of the bad guys was female. Now Garcia had to put a name to the little b-, not nice person.
It had been roughly two hours that JJ had been kept alone before the door screeched open. A rather nondescript older woman entered the mildew coated space. JJ didn’t blink, but waited for an opening.
“Ah, Agent Jareau.” The woman started, a slight accent to her voice. “I am terribly sorry that you are here, I was expecting the prodigious Dr. Reid to be along side the distracting Dr. Y/L/N.”
“What are you going to do with me, then?” JJ asked, controlling the building rage.
“We are going to trade you for the doctor, of course.” The woman smiled, mildly amused.
“That’s not going to happen, lady.” JJ countered. “There is no way Hotch is letting Spence just walk in to your trap. Stop with the little games.”
“I think you’ll find that when it comes to Y/N Y/L/N, there is little Dr. Reid wouldn’t do.” The woman teased, “Besides, you are a mother after all, a gentleman like “Spence” wouldn’t let you put yourself in danger.” Her cold eyes bore patronizingly back into JJ’s blue stare.
JJ had nothing more to say. The woman backed out the door from which she came. JJ cursed through her breath as the door was locked with a heavy clunk.
You thought you had heard voices from the room that shared your windowless wall. You pressed your ear to the cool drywall, straining to hear something. Any information would be welcome at this point. Suddenly there was a loud thud and locking sound. You continued to pace, though the temperature of the wall had soothed your bruised face. Who had hit you?
Thoughts of Thetis’ supplication to Zeus to protect her son ran through your mind. Who would be pleading for you in here? You had to get out of this on your own now, not drag anyone else down with you. You hoped JJ was alright, remembering her little boy back in Virginia. The spin-tingling sound of iron against it self caused you to freeze. The large door opened and suddenly SHE was there.
It's funny how we dream of better days
One day you've just got to let that train
Take you away
“But, just think about all of the factors that led to Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold to planning and executing the attack. I find it fascinating,” Spencer explained. “Plus, I am focusing on Chemistry graduate courses too. So this fall I will no longer be working with your dad.”
“Okay, slow down,” You interrupted over the torrential downpour that had you and Spencer trapped in your Volkswagen. “Columbine is a tragedy, not a field of study. And secondly, what?!” You pushed Spencer’s bony shoulder playfully. “Am I going to see you next summer or will you have to find another professor’s daughter to seduce?” You added heavily.
Spencer’s brown eyes watched you. His lips pursed in concern. “Y/N/N,” he began, “I am not leaving you, just your dad’s department. Besides, if anyone is leaving, it’s you!” He grinned suddenly, “After seducing me!”
He grabbed your sides, tickling you. You shrieked as the laughter rippled through you. Over the past two weeks Spencer and you had become inseparable; creating both an intoxicating rush and a warm contentment you had not felt before.
You decided how to free yourself from this blissful torture. So you licked your forefinger and jammed it into Spencer’s ear. “Wet Willy!” Spencer immediately released you, rubbing the uncomfortable sensation from his ear.
“Gross! Y/N Y/L/N, that was not fair!”
You ruffled his growing locks, “Don’t be a baby, Spencer Reid!” He pouted, his delicious bottom lip protruding ever so slightly. Again, you knew just what to do. You started by kissing the ear you had violated. Then its twin. Slowly you made your way inward on his face, kissing in pairs. By the time you caught his soft mouth he was smirking devilishly at you. You were so winning this one. It was just too bad you were stuck in the back seat with your adorable boyfriend in a storm.
After a morale-crushing conversation with Will, Spencer huddled with Morgan and Hotch. The leader had just ended a call with Garcia.
“Morgan, you head back to the conference room, that will be our base for the rest of the day. Detective Chang’s men have the scene secure now. Reid, come with me to the Security Center, we need to get to the bottom of this once and for all.”
On the elevator ride, Spencer’s mind was reciting the obvious yet obtuse poem the unsub had left for them. “Hotch, I think the unsub needs both Y/N and I for something.”
“Wants, Reid, they want you for something. If that is the case, that’s good news,” Hotch suggested. “That means that Dr. Y/L/N is still alive. But JJ is missing as well. Right now we need to work the profile, figure out the next step without losing anymore members of the team.” Hotch held Spencer’s alarmed gaze, knowingly.
Spencer was not playing this safe. “Hotch, if the unsub wants me. If it’s a trade they want, no question: I. am. going. Henry needs JJ, Hotch.”
The older man watched his resident genius, who held so much regard for each and every member of their team. “Let’s not let it get that far, Reid. Let’s bring them back.”
Prentiss and Rossi met the two brooding men in the lobby. They fell in line as they walked behind the concierge desk, following a small hall to a kiosk of rotating images on multiple monitors. The desk had three different phones atop it, one office chair and no guard. It was completely abandoned.
On the bottom two screens was consistent streaming of two underground rooms. One holding JJ, who appeared completely normal and alone. As they registered her, the team let out a collective sigh of relief. In the other monitor was Y/N, her face swollen from blunt force. “Oh no!,” Emily gasped at the visual.
Y/N appeared to be talking to someone, but they were off camera. Spencer collapsed into the swiveling chair, pulling at his hair in desperation. He held a single finger up, tracing the outline of Y/N’s battered face.
“Garcia,” Hotch was on it, “I need you tracing the live hotel security footage, now. Where is camera A16 and camera A17 feeding from?”
Part 8
@sparkle-dinosaur, @dontshootmespence @reiding-and-writing @speedreiding @reid-my-fortune @sapphire1727 @holagubler @cherry-loves-fanfic @lookingforgalifrey @miss-gleek-freak-geek @sortaathief
#Criminal Minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfictions#spencer reid#spencer x reader#spencer imagine#y/n is alive#who is the old broad#vw#love in a vw#fluff#angst#penelope garcia#jennifer jareau#aaron hotchner#derek morgan#emily prentiss#dave rossi#bau#stu#name the bitch#union pulse#sorry james#katy perry
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Peaches and cream (sweeter than sweet)
Trigger warnings: (This is a fluffy smut so there’s not too many trigger warnings) body worship, orgasm denial/edging, over stimulation, self-esteem issues, riding (cow girl position).
Playlist: I kept listening to Best Mistake by Ariana Grande ft Big Sean when listening to this (for anyone who is curious).
Inspired by some interactions with @joon-chaos (I hope you like it Hun.)
Enjoy some tame, fluffy Namjoon smut.
Bambi x
————————————————————————-
You couldn’t be happier, sun shine peaking through the curtains, illuminating the most breath-taking sight in the world, your boyfriend Namjoon. He may at times hate his own reflection, but to you, he was beautiful both on the outside, and more importantly, on the inside too. He had a beautiful soul and you wish he could see what you saw in him. Although you two could philosophize all night long, he wasn’t as talkative as you were. Words didn’t come as easily to him, so you learnt that you would have to display your feelings for him through your actions.
That’s why your index finger traced patterns and words across any his golden skin, starting from his wrist to the top of his forearm and back down again. You repeated the action of his other arm, drawing invisible musical notes on the soft skin, the tune familiar to him, as it was one of his songs
Once you had traced every inch of available skin on his arms, your hands moved down, under the duvet covers and to the skin of his inner thigh. You traced other patterns, little hearts and stars, even a moon, edging closer to the hem of his boxers.
Namjoon grew tense.
You removed your hand and started to shuffle away, afraid you had overstepped his boundaries and scared him. You would have gotten up if not for his arms snaking their way around your waist, pulling you back into bed.
“Don’t go Baby girl,” he mumbled in a soft voice, raspy from sleep. So you didn’t.
Just as you melted back into his touch, his strong arms, body heat and heady scent all his own making you feel secure, you felt him shift again. He moved, hovering over you, leaving you to lay on your back on the sheets, feeling cold and unwanted.
You wanted to question him, wondering what was up, but you kept quiet. Namjoon would tell you in his own time.
“Baby girl I just want to make you feel good, will you let me Babe?” You nodded and his lips started to trace your body, much like your finger had traced his earlier. Despite how plump they were, his lips felt like petals, their touch on your skin feather light.
God he was such a tease.
But even if he didn’t always see his own beauty, Namjoon saw yours and he was determined to make that known. His lips, believers devoted to the divine cause of your body, and their life’s calling is to make it sing. His hands removing the offensive and flimsy material that hid your bewitchingly beautiful body.
His kisses left no piece of skin untouched, each brush of his lips on your skin leaving a light tingle in their wake. However all these little tingles paled in comparison to the tingling feeling between your legs. A throbbing need making you let out desperate whimpers for more, for Namjoon to really kiss you, right where you needed it.
The more his lips touched your skin, the more confident he became, any shyness from before long gone, as he became engrossed in pleasuring your soft and supple skin. He became particularly engrossed with your hip bones, kissing the flesh with abandon. He was so close, yet so far from where you needed him.
God he was such a tease.
When those petals finally kissed you where you needed them to, your breath halted. Namjoon had a habit of taking your breath away but this was the best kind of example. There was no need for words, the feeling of his lips forming into a soft smirk spoke volumes.
God could Namjoon be anymore of a tease?
Apparently he could. He insisted on just kissing you, his lips on yours, no use of the tongue that brought him fame. He was going to take his time worshipping at the temple that was your body.
Ever the attentive lover, all of Namjoon’s teasing had you worked you up more than you would like to admit, his lips already covered in your glistening wetness. You wondered how much longer you could stand just having his kisses, even the frustration at a lack of progression had become painfully pleasurable, making you practically hysterical yet so relaxed at the same time.
Even when he started to use his tongue, it was with a tenderness and yearning to make you fall apart in his arms. Namjoon used it first to trace your velvet walls, committing their feeling to memory, before it skilfully caressed a very special bundle of nerves. Each flick of his tongue better than the last, as his confidence grew and so did his desire to feel you flood his mouth with your juices.
When his tongue did leave you, it moved to its next target, your neglected clit. Ever the tease, he placed a few open kisses on the bud before giving it the same treatment as your g-spot. Each flick of his tongue again felt better than the last, driving you even closer to that edge that Namjoon was so insistent on making you fall off.
Just before you could do so, it seemed that Namjoon had a change of heart, his lips travelling to your inner thighs, away from where you wanted him. You could practically throttle him when he got like this.
God Namjoon was the worst tease in the world.
You had half the mind to tug on his locks until you ripped some of his hair out, a just punishment in the mind of a sexually frustrated and teased lover.
But you were broken our of your reverie by his raspy voice.
“Baby girl, I’ll make you cum this time. I just wanted to take my time, make you melt with my tongue and edging is just a part of it Babe.”
Namjoon wasn’t the worst tease in the world. He kept his word.
His talented tongue softly entered you again, it curling and flicking against that special spot again. His fingers entering the fray by rubbing your clit, the added stimulation helping to build up that knot in your stomach that much faster.
With all the teasing before, you were practically soaked, your juices dripping down onto Namjoon’s face. He moaned at the taste, sweet like the peaches you’ve been eating recently. Namjoon had become ravenous, the taste of you giving him a greater resolve to make your body sing.
He held your gaze and that’s all it took. You shattered around him, your body drowning in the waves of your orgasm. Namjoon holding you whilst he lapped up your juices, his thumbs rubbing your inner thighs to soothe you.
As you came down from your high, catching your breath, you felt Namjoon smirk against your glistening lips.
God surely Namjoon couldn’t be anymore of a tease?
Apparently he could.
Namjoon’s plump lips wrapped themselves around your little bud again, sucking, nibbling, kissing and licking your clit, sending your body into a state of overstimulation. You almost wanted to close your legs, to protect yourself from the painful pleasure, but Namjoon’s thumbs continued to rub the skin of your inner thighs, to soothe you.
And soothe you it did. Namjoon’s attentive actions soon became even more pleasurable, his lips bringing you swiftly to another orgasm, his name falling from your mouth like a mantra.
As you came down from your high, the clouding white slowly leaving your senses, allowing you to see and hear clearly, you looked back down at your boyfriend. His soft smirk faded as the love and devotion he had for you shone through, softly kissing the skin of thigh.
His voice,still raspy from sleep, murmured “Babe, nothing is more beautiful than when you cum. Seeing you lose yourself to the pleasure, knowing I can make you feel that good, knowing you’ll let me make you feel that good is the greatest honour you could give me. You’re so beautiful Baby girl… so beautiful.”
Namjoon’s lips kissed back up your body, finally to the point where he kissed your hand, the chivalrous act matching his beautiful words, a sign of his devotion to you. Him latter wrapping you up in his arms, murmuring sweet nothings in your ear, another chivalrous act, touching your heart and making you feel a need to show your devotion to him.
Cautiously you kissed the arms that held you tightly, holding your back held against his broad chest, not wanting to frighten off Namjoon with signs of affection that came off too strong. The cautious approach worked as Namjoon melted, wanting more of your sweet kisses. So, you smiled against the skin of his forearms as he relaxed into the feeling, appreciating your affectionate actions.
Once you got used to kissing his strong arms, you turned around in Namjoon’s hold, hoping to kiss much more of his golden skin. You slowly lent in to his bewildered face, a silent ask for permission, permission to kiss those lips that drove you wild, that you were addicted to.
Namjoon granted it and you didn’t waste your time. You weren’t a tease. Your lips melded together like your bodies had when Namjoon held you in his strong arms, another sign that you were the perfect pairing, his other half.
You kissed Namjoon with a gentleness, afraid of spooking him, but with a hidden fire behind each movement of your lips on his, wanting to show how much you truly adored the special person in your life.
Your remark from earlier was wrong, Namjoon’s lips weren’t petals but peaches, perfectly plump and ripe for kissing all day. You were getting lost in the melding of your lips on his. You really could kiss him all day, it was addictive, Namjoon was addictive, but you wanted to make his body sing.
So your kisses trailed down his sharp jaw line and down his neck, paying close attention to the patches of skin where he was most sensitive, drawing out shaky breaths from Namjoon. It was your time smirk. You were pleased that you were having such an effect on Namjoon just from kisses but you wanted to do more than just kiss, you wanted to make love with him.
You wanted to give him the world but all you could give him was your heart, devotion and hope he could see his beauty and beautiful soul, just like you did. That’s why you tried to be as affectionate as you could on lazy days like this, to show Namjoon that, despite any difficulties you both may have along the way, you were in it for the long haul. Namjoon was your soulmate and you weren’t and the cynic you were, you weren’t even sure if you believed in soul mates. Namjoon was just that good.
So your hands slowly caressed Namjoon’s body, down from the tops of his shoulders to his lower abdomen, fingers softly taking hold of the hem of his cotton shirt. You kept kissing him through of all of this, like you said before, his lips were addictive but Namjoon pulled away.
“What’s wrong Babe? Am I going to fast? Do you just want to make out some more? Do you want me to stop?”
Namjoon let out a loud sigh, his shoulders slumping before he replied, “Baby girl, I don’t want you to stop but I don’t think you’d want to make out with a monster like me.”
“A monster? Babe, unless you’re talking about a Rap Monster, I don’t view you as a monster. A monster in the sheets maybe… “
“Stop joking Baby girl, I’m being serious. I haven’t been eating as well as I should have recently and it shows. I’m not sexy like the maknaes and beauty like yours deserves an equal. An Aphrodite deserves an Adonis.”
You held in an astonished chuckle, afraid it would be taken the wrong way before responding. “Babe, I’m hardly comparable to Aphrodite and I don’t need an Adonis because I’m with the most beautiful person inside and out. You’re wise, a great leader, the perfect cuddler, a civic minded and passionate man. You’ve turned a lonely cynic into believing in a ‘Mr Right’. I will only accept that I’m Aphrodite if you are my Adonis. Now I only hope that you will let me show you how devoted I am to you, My Adonis.”
Namjoon’s hands held yours and guided you to peel of his shirt, slowly, still a bit insecure but becoming more secure when your lips touched again. Your hands drew the same shapes as before as you two locked lips, determined to show Namjoon how much you cared for him.
Namjoon didn’t resist as you went to pull away his boxers, the last piece of clothing covering him. Your words and your actions having made him feel greater than he had in a long time. He hissed as the cold air met his arousal, the temperature a slight shock to the system but nothing that would stop him from wanting to be inside you, to make love with you.
Your caresses travelled down to Namjoon’s thighs, tracing little hearts on his skin just like you did before, another small sign of affection. Namjoon appreciated it and tried to hold back but he’d been turned on the instant your hands were on him the first time. He was understandably a little impatient by now.
Noticing his restlessness, your hands soon moved to where Namjoon needed them most, giving him a few strokes with some lube, just to make the glide that little bit easier. It would help with another kind of glide soon.
Namjoon initiated a kiss as you stroked him, not wanting to moan out so early on, his pride wouldn’t allow it. His lips were as addictive as ever and his kisses were sweeter than sweet. You really could kiss him all day, his kisses were what you needed, not silly little frivolous things like oxygen.
If his kisses were sweeter than sweet, Namjoon’s caresses were sickly sweet. His hands were just as great at teasing as his kisses. His hands, butterfly-like, only a whisper of a real touches fluttered all across your body, including your little bud, causing more of your sweet nectar to flow.
Just before you could drip onto the sheets, the butterflies became vices, gripping onto you hips, insisting you ride him. Namjoon’s grip became gentler, as you lined yourself up and slowly sank down, draining any roughness from him.
The slow descent allowed you to indulge in the feeling of every vein on Namjoon’s member caressing your velvet walls in best possible way. You were frankly too tired to set a fast pace but you didn’t care, to you, lazy morning sex was the best, it gave you time to truly appreciate the man you were with, to truly savour the moment.
Namjoon felt the same way. He couldn’t think of a better way to wake up.
You rolled your hips, getting your grinding into a steady rhythm, drawing out soft moans from your lips and heavy breaths from Namjoon. His hands, gently caressed and guided your hips, making sure your movements maximised the pleasure felt by both of you.
You were both treating the other with care, as if the other was a china doll, too fragile and ready to break at any moment. But that’ s what you two were in this moment, fragile, letting your guard down, intimate and exposed, ready to break into a million pieces when your orgasm hit you.
You guided Namjoon’s hand up to your heaving chest, allowing him to feel how frantic your heart was beating, how it was beating for him, allowing him to feel how hard your nipples were, how they were hard for him.
He gave you a loving smile before moving his hands, using them to guide yours to his heaving chest, allowing you to feel how frantic his heart was beating, how it was beating for you, allowing you to feel how hard his nipples were, how they were hard for you.
Your hearts were in sync. In sync with each other, in sync with the rhythmic rolling of your hips. The knowledge that he was just as in love, just as affected as you were drew you closer to your end. It also drew Namjoon closer to his own end.
Namjoon moved your hands one last time, placing them by your hips, along with his, interlocking your fingers, his grip soft but secure. You need that secure grip as an increasingly desperate Namjoon started thrusting up into you, whimpering into open mouthed kisses that you shared, making you that much more desperate yourself.
His thrusts turned into pounding, pounding up into your deliciously tight and wet heat, the angle allowing him to hit places much deeper inside you. Each pound of his hips on to the bottom of your cheeks, creating an audible clap, a sinful rhythm only fitting for a musician like Namjoon.
The pounding also drew you closer, as he kept on hitting that special little bundle of nerves, causing you to involuntarily clench around Namjoon’s throbbing length.
Namjoon felt how close you were and he was just as close, his fingers squeezing yours, another sign of affection. He spoke up in that raspy voice you loved to wake up to, “Baby girl, look into my eyes, cum for me, cum with me.”
His words was that last light push you needed, allowing you to fall into the abyss of blissful pleasure. The pleasure threatening to make you close your eyes but you didn’t, the sight in front of you was too good.
Sweat dripping down his forehead, the beams of light escaping from a gap between your curtains lighting his body, making look more ethereal than usual. The sounds were better. Namjoon let out little grunts of your name and soft whimpers as his thrusts became erratic, your clenching walls driving him insane to the point where he burst, painting your walls white.
As you both caught your breath, resting your head in the crook of his neck, Namjoon squeezed your hands again, a little sign of gratitude and affection.
“I know sometimes that I hate my own reflection but you never fail to make me feel wanted Baby girl, thank you for that. I can’t promise to give you the world, but I can continue to give you my heart, I hope that’s enough Baby girl.”
“Namjoon, Babe, it’s more than enough. I just hope you can continue to accept and look after mine in return.”
“Baby girl, I know I have a habit of being a bit clumsy but I promise it’s in safe hands.”
And that’s how you spent the rest of your morning, curled up in the sheets with Namjoon, tracing his skin like you did before, sharing kisses and enjoying one another’s company and affection.
________________________________________________________________
So that’s it, I hope you liked it. :)
Until the next time I write,
Bambi x
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