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lollypopsx · 3 years

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Flatmate!Harry: I’ll Make It Up To You - Part 3

Please like if it’s not too shabby, re-blog for anyone who you think may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Part 1 - Part 2

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: I think slight swearing, One sentence of smutty language.

A/N-The bold bits are a flashback!

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You were spending your Wednesday afternoon doing housework and cleaning up your apartment. In the last two weeks, you had been helping Harry here and there with writing some songs, but you never wanted to take any credit for his work. You were just happy to help.

You’d both let the mess pile up a little bit, mainly paper thrown everywhere, scribbled with random lyrics and instrument chords. You had vowed to yourself that you weren’t going to write anymore or get yourself lost in your musical dream world, but Harry always seemed to manage to get you sucked in to help.

You pick up your phone to dial H, letting it ring a few times.

“Y/N? Are you okay? Everything fine?” Harry answers worriedly.

You couldn’t help but chuckle “Everything is fine, I just phoned to see if you needed any of that paper on the piano or if it can be thrown?”

“Erm, maybe just stick it in a pile in my room and I’ll go through and sort it later. What are you doing?”

“I’m cleaning our pigsty of an apartment Haz!” You laugh and smile.

“Look at you being a wife” He teases and chuckles.

“Shut up, or you’ll be my next victim! Do you want me to wash your bedding too?”

“Ohhh yes please! You’re an angel!”

“Someone’s got to be” You smile. “And your spare sheets are in the drawer under your bed?” You hold your phone to your ear with your shoulder as you pile the thrown papers together.

“Yeah I think I- Erm...a-actually I can put the sheets on when I’m home!” He says quickly. You were slightly taken back by the change in his tone. “Are you sure?”

“Y-yeah....yeah I...I forgot I’d bought some new ones a while ago and they’re...they’re still in my car” He fakes a chuckle, although you soon became oblivious to his cover story.

“Did you manage to get those silky black ones?!” You gasp.

“Y-yeah...yeah I did”...fuck. “I gotta go, Jeff’s pestering me to sign some stuff. I’ll see you later”

“Okie dokie, see you later. Text me when you’re leaving the studio and I’ll start dinner.”

“Thanks babe, laters” He sighs softly and hangs up. “I need to order black silk sheets on Amazon asap...” He groans.

“You still haven’t told her?!” Jeff sighs, his head shaking. “Harry you need to do it sooner or later...”

“I know but she might freak out!” Harry’s brows furrowed as he kicks the floor softly. “Right...let’s keep going” He sighs.

You cleaned the apartment top to toe, and you couldn’t help admit that you did feel much better. It felt cosier than before, and on this particular day, the sun was glowing, warming your skin through the window.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this. You promised yourself two weeks ago that you wouldn’t be doing this. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t put your mind back into your past and be sitting writing songs about old feelings and passed experiences. But here you were...

Using the back of the scraps of paper from Harry’s pile, you were spilling out every word that came to mind, like every feeling in your chest was finally released. Your fingers glided across the piano keys flawlessly with the words you had pieced together, falling perfectly from your mouth. The weight being lifted made you wish you had done this months ago.

—————————

“Come on babe, everyone’s already waiting for us at the party...your birthday party which me and all your friends have thrown for you and we’re late!” Your boyfriend Adam teased as he smiled, “You look great” He chuckles as he grabs his jacket.

“Okay, I’m ready! Let’s go. I can’t believe you guys all managed to book out Club 21 for me!” You grin as you followed him into the taxi towards the club.

“You dropped my hand while dancing, so I left you out there standing...crestfallen on the stage with...champagne problems

You had a cheap ring for it...my picture in your wallet...but my heart was glass and you dropped it...now I have champagne problems”

The music was pounding as you danced around happily with all your friends on the dance floor. You were having the best night of your life so far. Surrounded by all of yours and Adam’s best friends. You pant as you escape the crowded dance floor and head over to the bar, joining your friend Niall, and your best friend and flat mate Harry, who were both best friends too.

“Hello birthday girl!” Niall grins and hugs you tightly, kissing your cheek. “It’s not my birthday yet!” You laugh and hug him tightly, then hugging Harry. “Not for another...57 minutes” Harry smiles.

“Have you guys seen Adam? He said he’d get me a drink and I haven’t seen him since!” You say over the music. “I think he’s in the toilet...I’ll go find him. H can get you a drink” Niall pats your back and heads to the men’s toilets.

“Did you tell your family the real reason? Or did you keep it in?...Your mum had splashed out on the bottle...now no ones celebrating”

“Dom Pérignon, you brought it...but our friends never applauded...your hometown skeptics say it’s...champagne problems”

As Niall strolled into the toilets, he checked his hair in the mirror, noticing a pair of white trainers and red heels in the reflection, hidden behind a cubical door. He smirked and chuckled quietly until he heard “Ohhh fuck, Adam keep going” the female moaned softly. Surely not...there must be plenty of Adam’s in the club. “Mmm I haven’t been able to resist you since I arrived...fuck you’re so tight baby” Adam moaned. It was him. Niall felt the fury cause redness to his cheeks and it took all of his will power not the break the door down and beat Adam to a pulp. He knew where he needed to be most importantly.

His fists were clenched as he left and walked over to the bar “Y/N...” Niall couldn’t help the frown on his lips. You smile as you saw him come back “There you are, was he in there?”

“Y/N I need to tell you something...” Niall gulped. You couldn’t help but feel like his expression said every word you had been so scared to hear. And he never had to say a word, as you saw Adam stumbling out the men’s bathroom, with an unknown female following out 10 seconds later. You had no words, everything you wanted to say...to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to punch something.

“I’m going to fucking kill him” You heard a mutter from Harry. But you couldn’t react.

“Was it all for the money...or all for the show...I found out that you cheated so I had to go...I always thought I’d know the answer, ‘til you were on your knee and asked me”

You went to storm up to Adam but he was long gone. You had no clue where he had gone...was this it? Was that how he leaves us? As you turn back to Harry and Niall, their eyes were no longer on you, their dark, angry eyes watching up at the stage. Adam appeared with a wide grin on his face.

“Where’s Y/N?” He calls out. If you hadn’t of just seen him fall out the bathroom with another girl, you would never have believed he could do something so breaking. “Adam...what are you doing?” You mumble, feeling tears in your eyes. Harry and Niall stood close behind you.

“Come up here baby” Adam grins, but before you could even attempt to run away, you were being pulled up onto stage by two of your other friends, who clearly didn’t know what had just happened.

Was this it? Was he about to break up with you 45 minutes before your birthday...in front of all your friends? You couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing. But oh no, this was much worse.

"I was going to do this in 45 minutes...but unfortunately, one of our friends has to leave the celebrations early for work tomorrow...” Adam smiles brightly at you. You felt sick to your stomach. How could he have the audacity act like he hadn’t just cheated and broken your heart.

You were still in shock. Everything was happening so fast, that you didn’t focus until you realised Adam was on his knee. “Y/N Y/L/N...will you marry me?” He pulls out a small ring, that was clearly not going to fit you. It would definitely cut off your circulation!

The lights were bright in your eyes, as they reflected the tears threatening to spill. But they weren’t the happy tears you always dreamed you’d have at this moment. He pushed the ring up into your hand, silently begging you to take it. You don’t know why...but you held the ring in your hands loosely.

“H-how could you cheat on me...” You whisper, only loud enough for him to hear. You could see the guilt in his eyes as everyone was about to cheer, assuming you’d said yes...but the crowd quickly fell silent as you shook your head, you just wanted to run.

You rushed down the steps at the side of the stage and pushed through the crowd, your legs feeling like jelly as you crashed through the doors and ran...you just ran. The tears finally freed themselves as you let out heavy sobs.

You heard people shouting your name down the street but you couldn’t stop. You were scared to face whatever happened next. You ran and ran until you felt two arms grab you from behind “Hey...shhh c’mere it’s me” As soon as you heard Harry’s hushed tones, you stopped resisiting his grip. You turned into his chest and clutched his shirt, sobbing loudly as you wanted to fall into a pile there and then. His arms protectively tightened around you, his head resting ontop of yours.

“I got you...I’ve always got you. Niall’s getting the car and we’re taking you straight home”

“...I could of made such a lovely wife...what a shame you fucked up my head... they said “you’ll find the real thing instead...and he’ll patch up the pieces you’ve shred.... and he’ll...hold my hand while dancing...I’ll never leave him standing, crestfallen on the stage with Champagne Problems”

The journey home was painfully silent apart from your sobs. Harry held you closely as Niall drove. “I’ll pop round tomorrow ok...text me if you need anything” Niall says to Harry, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you get out the car. “Thanks Ni” You mumble. “Anytime princess” He gives you a sweet smile before driving home.

Harry gets you inside, you wipe your soaked cheeks with the back of your hand. You headed straight to the fridge intending to get some water, but instead you found two bottles of champagne which had been sat in the fridge since Christmas.

“Better late than never...” You mutter and take them to the sofa. You popped one open and took a large mouthful from the bottle. Harry brought in a hoodie of his for you, wrapping it around your arms as you suddenly burst into heavy sobs. “Why me?!” You scream into his chest.

“No you’re perfect...he doesn’t deserve you” He whispers, holding you close to him. “You don’t need him. You have me...and Niall”

You whimpered as you took swigs from your bottle very quickly. It tasted awful. But nothing tasted worse than heartbreak.

“Hey Y/N…happy birthday m’darling” he whispers “I’ll make sure you have the best day”

“A cheap ring in your pocket...her picture in your wallet...you won't remember all my...champagne problems

Have you forgotten all my champagne problems?

Now, his mum’s ring in his pocket...my picture in his wallet...he’ll never give me any...champagne problems

He helped to cure all of my champagne problems...”

The next morning, you woke with a heavy head. You found yourself quickly remembering the night before. You sat up slowly, feeling an arm tightly wrapped around your waist. You and Harry had fallen asleep on the sofa...you must have cried yourself to sleep after demolishing one and a half bottles of champagne.

“How are you feeling?” Harry whispers, his hand brushing your hair back gently. You stare at the ring on the table. “I...I don’t know. I never thought this would happen to me...I though this was it.” You mumble sadly. “I thought I was enough” You whisper silently. His heart broke and the ide that you felt you weren’t enough. “You will always be enough...” He frowns and holds you. Kissing your head. He’d never wished more than to have the ability to take someone’s pain away.

“Y-you...you won’t leave me too will you Harry?” You sniffle, your head resting on his chest.

“Never...I’ll never leave you” He mutters into your hair.

“What if I’m alone forever...what if I can’t heal from this?” You whimper

“You’ll find it. I know you thought you did...but you’ll find the real thing instead, and whoever it is will patch your heart up. And you won’t ever need to leave him” He whispers reassuringly.

—————————

You play around with the last two versions of the chorus, completely oblivious to Harry’s presence in the doorway until you heard a small shuffle from that direction

Your head snapped up “Jesus Harry! I didn’t know you would be home yet...You scared the life out of me! What’s wrong?” You frown as you run up to him, throwing your arms up around his shoulders, noticing his furrowed brow and the sad frown on his lips.

“I...that was so beautiful Y/N...and it just reminds me of how much he hurt you...a-and you...y-you’ve grown so much” He whispers softly, his arms tightly wrapping around you. “You never deserve to be treated like that...and I still hear you crying some nights, I just couldn’t face seeing you that way and...and I-I knew you’d kill me if I barged in...” He mutters, his eyes grazing the floor, as you let out a small laugh. “And you wrote a song again...I’m so fucking proud”

“It’s okay Harry...I’m okay now!” You whisper, holding his cheeks in your hands. “I just needed to do it. One final time, and that’s it now. I’m going to get a proper job and-”

“Y/N I need to talk to you.” Harry cuts you off. “I was planning on having this conversation with you in a much nicer setting...but I don’t think I can wait.”

This was it...you didn’t realise how much you had craved to hear those three words fall from Harry’s mouth after months of trying to convince yourself that you didn’t feel that way.

“I’ve got you a recording contract with me for the new album...I want you on it. It’s been sat under my bed for weeks ready to give to you but I was worried you’d say no-” Harry says nervously.

You almost didn’t realise what he’d said until it was too late and you already started speaking.

“Harry I love you too...I-” You gasp as your hand flies in front of your mouth. No. No. No no no. This was not happening! You had single handedly embarrassed the shit out of your self and ruined the rest of your life. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole and spit you out in Australia.

“W-what?” Harry froze, taken back by the sudden confession. He didn’t know what to say, but to say he was shocked was an understatement.

“What...” You tried to act natural. Wishing to take back the last 5 seconds. “Oh...that’s erm...that would be a good read...you can just slide it under my door and I’ll read it in 3-5 working days.” You mutter quickly. You didn’t slipping past him, to disappear into your bedroom.

“Y/N...wait!” His hand grabs your wrist “...you love me?” His gaze fell soft into yours. You thought of every excuse to get out of this situation, as scared as you was to admit it...it was out now.

“Y-yeah...” you whisper, staring into his eyes, praying to make some sense of how he felt towards you. You so badly wanted him to speak, but the silence hanging between the two of you was deafening. You needed to know.

“D-do...do you...Do you love me Harry?” Your voice croaked.

Of course he did...

“I-I don’t know...” You couldn’t help but feel your heart shatter some more, the sparkle in your eye slowly fading. And at that moment, you know you had ruined the best friendship of your life. You prepared yourself for Harry to leave the room, pack a bag and go to stay at Niall’s. But he just stood there, analysing your face intensely. You began to pull your hand away from his and run quickly.

“No...wait! Y/N I didn’t mean it like that I just...Well you always had Adam...and you’ve always been my best friend...and then when you guys split up, I...I was so angry because I knew I could never do that to you, and I wanted to change that so badly, but I never wanted to my feelings to get in the way of our friendship. I don’t ever want to loose you Y/N...I always thought I just wanted what I can’t have...until I knew I wanted to protect you for the rest of my life...I love you...I’ve always loved you Y/N, I just didn’t want to ruin anything...” He whispers, his bright eyes sparking as the warm sunset glow flooded your apartment.

“H-have I ruined it all....” You whimper softly, feeling your breath getting stuck in your throat.

“Never...” He whispers, one of his hands cupping your cheek, and the other locking into the side of your neck as you felt soft tears slipping down your cheeks. You had never been so terrified of losing someone. But that worry was soon washed away when you felt Harry’s soft pink lips press against yours. Sparks were flying through your blood as you wasted no time kissing him back with every ounce of passion until you couldn’t breath.

Neither of you wanted to beak the kiss...but Harry also didn’t want the pair of you to collapse. He pulled his lips away from yours, pressing his forehead against yours, the both of you panting heavily.

“I love you so fucking much” He whispers, tears filling his eyes.

—————————

- 3 Months Later -

"Y/N we need to get you downstairs, we don’t have time to get you mic’d up up here, Graham has already started the show, so we’ll mic you up in the wings” A runner knocked on your dressing room.

“Ok I’m ready lets go...” You get up from the chair and check yourself in the mirror quickly. You had a beautiful red dress on, the sleeves hung off the shoulders and there was a slit in the leg of the floor length material. You had sparkly silver heels on, which looked like diamonds when they caught the light. Your hair was curled in a half up, half down style, with your normal glamourous makeup.

Harry was in the wings waiting, speaking to a few other people as you were getting mic’d up. He was in a red suit, to match the colour of your dress, with a white shirt, his shoes just white this time. He glanced up with a wide grin. “There she is...mmm look at my beauty” He smirks happily and presses a kiss to your lips, holding your hips as a runner was hiding the wire in your dress.

“And you’re on in 3...2...1...”

“Please welcome Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N!”

Harry took your hand as you followed him onto the set of The Graham Norton Show, the crowd cheering happily as you are greeted with a hug and kiss on the cheek from Graham, returning happily, and sitting down beside Harry after he gave the same greeting.

“Hello hello and welcome! It’s an honour to have you both here tonight on my sofa...although you have both sort of blended in” He chuckles

“Yeah...we didn’t really think about that until we got changed...” Harry chuckles, his hand holding yours tightly as you smile, taking a sip of wine from your glass.

“So we have a lot to talk about tonight...but firstly...congratulations on your new album! It sounds incredible and I know I’m not the only one wondering this, but how did you find working together while being in a relationship? Because your relationship only came into public view after the album was released...Now you two have lived together for...4 years is that right?” Graham asks.

“Yeah so...actually we have been best friends and flat mates for years, we’ve always had such a heavy impact on each others lives but we always both sort of thought it was just friendship. Around a year ago now I went through a really difficult break up and Harry was there every step of the way. Since then I always knew I loved Harry but it wasn’t until just after we had written the first version of Fine Line that I found out he felt the same” Your eyes gleam just talking about it.

“So...you two wrote Fine Line together, was that the first song you wrote for the album?” He looks over at Harry

“Actually, I’d already written Watermelon Sugar, Golden and Adore You. Fine Line was next and I was writing it at home. Naturally every song I write, Y/N is one of the first to hear, whether it’s in the living room, or when she’s in the bath and I sit outside the door to play it. It’s always been that way, even before we got together.”

Graham nods and smiles “You can’t let the poor woman have a bath in peace!” He jokes and teases as you both laugh. “So did you decide to name the album Fine Line because it’s the first song you wrote together?”

“I know!” Harry chuckles “sort of...Fine Line actually came about after...well it was after a prank I tried to pull on Y/N which went horribly wrong, then she finally forgave me and I was talking to her in the kitchen about how I was struggling to write emotional songs at the time. And the words she said to me really stuck...that night I sat at the piano and tried to piece together our conversation in a song. Y/N came to help me and she just...she’s really the saving grace. So I think yeah...maybe that was one of the reasons we called in Fine Line.”

“That’s incredible...and Y/N you were actually going to give up music weren’t you? Thank god you didn’t” Graham smiles.

You blush softly “I was...I just as going through a rough time. I helped Harry with the song and then I said I would quit. Then a couple of weeks later, Harry declared his love for me after he’d told me he had a joint record deal contract for us, to include me in the album” you tease with a smirk.

Harry grins widely and laughs quietly “I think the details of that have been slightly twisted...” He teases as you blush.

“Well I can’t wait to hear that story later! Now are there going to be any more joint albums...?” Graham asks curiously.

“...” You both look between each other “Time will tell Graham” Harry winks.

“Well...we are goin to go to an ad break now, but stay tuned because you don’t want to miss the first ever live performance of Fine Line by Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N!”

The crowd cheer loudly as the cameras cut to an ad break.

“I’m not waffling too much right?...it is my first ever proper interview” You mumble slightly as Harry and Graham sat with you in conversation while you were having your makeup touched up.

“You’re doing great baby...everyone loves you. I told you I’d make it all up to you when I stole your clothes and you missed that audition...” He grins cheekily.

“Now that’s a story I definitely need to hear!” Graham laughs along with the audience

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Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @sad-capuccino @beachwood-cafe

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #one shot #hslot #flatmate!harry #roommate!harry #fine line #champagne problems #lollypopsx #fanfic #one direction imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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enigma-im · 3 years

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Third Day of Christmas...

Trope: Enemies to Lovers (NSFW) Relationship: Minotaur x Human Word Count: 4,025

It all started with a note on the door.

Imani didn't expect to find a letter taped to her door that morning, or any morning for that matter. For a good couple of seconds she feared it was from her landlord, an eviction notice of some kind. That went right out the window as she read the chicken scratched handwriting.

Dear apartment 23 resident,

I'd appreciate it if you would keep the noises to a minimum after 10 pm. The singing has kept me up well past midnight. The stomping at all hours has been less than appreciated. Also, I hate to point out that your dog hasn't been a saint either, barking every morning at 7 am. So if you would please, muzzle the dog and stop the late-night parties.

Signed, apartment 15 resident.

Imani is confused for a moment, walking back into her apartment while rereading the letter. All of it is not true, starting with the singing. She does not sing, especially that late in the day. The neighbor on the other hand has a daughter who doesn't understand her own volume, blaring out BTS songs at odd hours. The stomping is a ridiculous accusation, almost typical in these situations. The only time she can admit that her walking would be loud is when she first gets home and hasn't gotten to removing her shoes. Besides then, she is as quiet as a church mouse. An hour after she gets home she spends most of her time lounging in the living room. so how can she be making noises if she isn't moving?

The woman drops the note onto her kitchen table, put off by the audacity. She looks over to her little dog, shaking her head as she thinks back on the next line. Her dog doesn't bark! He is as silent as can be, never even growling. The most this 'resident' can accuse her pooch over is his nails scratching at the floor. Even then that shouldn't even register through the floors.

With the morning turned sour, Imani quickly organizes her things and heads out for work. The whole day is spent thinking hard on her letter, thinking about what needs to be done. Should she ignore it? Pretend she never got it and go on with her life? That would be the easy approach, even kinder one, but she ain't that kind of bitch.

When she got home late that day she storms into the kitchen, making sure to stop with her shoes still on, and grabs a notebook. She jots down a little message for 'resident 15' with as much passive aggression as she can put into words.

Dear resident 15,

The bold claims you have taped to my door have been read. I'd like to take the time to inform you of your misguided claims. I, for one, am not the local American Idol star. That award goes to Tiny Tina in apartment 22. I don't know why you have such an issue with her music, BTS songs are a bop.

Next on the list is my 'stomping'. Excuse me for correcting you again, but I do not 'stomp' around my apartment. The minute I get home from work I am sitting on my ass watching television till it's time for bed. So I ask you, how can I be stomping around if my feet do not move off the couch?

Finally, my dog. My dog is a saint, for your information, he is the quietest animal I have ever owned. I haven't heard so much as a peep from him since he was a puppy. Maybe check around for other noisy pooches because mine isn't the problem.

With this all said, I hope you find a solution to your problem because bugging me was not it.

Sincerely, resident 23

Signed, sealed, and ready to be delivered. The next morning on the way to work she tapes the little note to the numbers on unit 15. smug, she walks out of there with her head held high.

Feeling proud of herself even further into the day she isn't ready for the speedy reply taped to her door, along with a missing doormat. With a huff, she snatches the note and heads inside. She unfolds the sheet, reading:

Dear 23,

I am not mistaken, and I'm taking your welcome mat until you know how to be a proper upstairs neighbor.

-15

She gawks at the letter, put off by the blatant admission of theft. Are they a child, taking away things as a punishment? This is completely idiotic! She should march downstairs and confront the fool who thinks this is a proper course of action. Well, she would if she didn't also want to get back at them.

Throwing the paper onto the coffee table she flops down on the couch to think. What is the best way to get back at them?

A floor below rests Church the Minotaur. He is getting ready to go on a run, sliding on his sneakers as he opens the door. Glance to the side he catches sight of a gaudy plethora of stickers and glitter, his door dressed to the 9s with rainbows. He is taken aback, looking at the decorations with ire. Above it all sits a folded up piece of paper taped to the door. He quickly snatches it, reading it.

15,

Return the doormat and I'll clean your door.

-23

Church chuffs, grinding his teeth as he looks to the door again. He didn't think he was being unfair when he first gave them a letter. It was a polite way to ask them to shut up. He just wanted some sleep, was that too much to ask? He looks to the door again, apparently, it was.

Imani opens the door fully expecting the letter. With a bit of a pep in her step, she grabs it, reading it as she walks to her car. She snorts, crumpling the paper and tossing it in the trash.

23,

This means war

-15

The next few weeks are filled with pranks of varying variety. The two start small, Imani stomping around upstairs with her heaviest pairs of boots, Church banging his hand against the ceiling during the quiet hours of the night. Next with more glitter courtesy of Church, a well-timed package that exploded in Imani's kitchen. He swears he could hear her surprised scream from below. Imani gets him back with a similar package, one with a jump scare card.

It's a back forth of one-upping the other. Church orders Imani eight pizzas, forcing her to reluctantly pay for it when seeing the nervous kid trying to deal with the mix-up. Imani manages to hook her phone to his Bluetooth speakers, playing random screams at all hours of the night. Church gets her back by attaching an alarm to her door so when walked out that morning she was startled by a firetruck worthy honk.

It seems it’s the last straw for Church when he receives his own glitter bomb of confetti cocks. It gets caught on the carpet, sneaking into the couch cushions, and sticking to his clothes. Quickly dusting himself off he charges upstairs, reaching her door and banging on it. He taps his foot frustrated and angry.

The door clicks open, Church already ready with his rant. Imani is equally prepared, excited with the chance to chew him a new one. When the two see each other they stumble on the words, looking one another over with confusion. Neither of them expected the other to be anything but some angry middle-aged person looking for a fight. They hardly assumed that the other would be so…attractive.

"I, uh," church shakes his head," You! A damn dick bomb? Do you understand how ingrained they are into my carpet? I sent you a cheap one, something you can easily clean up but you couldn't even consider that!"

"What," Imani comes back to her own," those craft herpes were not easy to clean, I'm sure it's still in the kitchen now and staining my clothes. So don't you dare come at me with 'woe is me' look like you had any consideration at all for my floors."

"Well excuse me, I didn't hack into your speakers to play Halloween screams all through the night. I damn near had a heart attack at 2 in the morning because of you," he points to her, debating on jabbing her in the chest. She slaps his hand away before he gets the chance, scoffing.

"At least I didn't make you spend money on eight pizzas! Do you know how much eight pizzas cost? It was like seventy bucks. I'm just glad you didn't splurge on something more than a single topping pizza. But fuck you for making them all pineapple you monster," she bites back.

The two ramble on long enough for the neighbors to peek their heads out. Embarrassed, they close out their argument with a huff and a door slam. Church heads off to his apartment, falling onto the couch while grumbling to himself. Imani growls and mumbles in her bed. They both can't help the thought that ruins all their anger:

God, they were hot.

The pranks don't stop in their frequency. The two continue, using their frustrations at their traitorous thoughts to fuel their revenge.

Imani still plays with his speakers, using screamo songs to annoy him in the afternoons. Church booby traps her door again with more glitter, his preferred weapon as of lately. She takes up tap dancing, he pays the kid next door to blare BTS near the shared wall of her apartment. She puts a fake ticket on his car, he puts vulgar stickers on her's. the childish game goes on and on.

Imani sits in her room one night, frustrated beyond belief with the sexy minotaur. She can't get his face out of her head. Why did he have to be cute? It's not like it makes the little game they have going harder to do. No, it just makes it seem more than it is. She has to constantly catch herself praising his wit in some of the stunts he pulls. Scolding herself nonstop for wanting to stop by his place and yell at him some, just to see him. It's stupid, wanting to actually get to know him.

Church relaxes in bed, feeling more bothered than Imani. He has hit a bit of a dry spell in his sexual life, or his solo sexual life. He can't jerk off without picturing the little hellspawn upstairs. It would be easy to give in and just think of her but it would be too much. She is an enemy, not a potential interest. So what if she is one of the sexiest humans he has ever seen? Who cares if her ability to keep up with him in this little war is kind of turning him on? It doesn't matter, right?

He sighs in defeat, "I don't think I can believe that even if I tried," he grunts as he clenches his shaft.

Imani is at home setting up her next plan when someone knocks on the door. She looks to the clock surprised at someone visiting this hour. Confused, and cautious, she gets out of bed and walks to the door. Looking through the peephole she rolls her eyes at who she sees.

Imani opens the door," if this is about the folk music I'll tell you now I'm not changing it back."

"No," he growls," this is about the tap shoes. Metal on wood makes for some very undesirable sounds."

"Well, excuse me for trying to take up a new hobby. What about you paying off the kid next door to play her music next to my wall? I swear that little demon doesn't sleep," Imani scolds.

"Speaking of little demons, can you for the love of god shut your dog up. Every morning I hear his damn barking and I'm seriously debating calling someone," he takes a step into her space, scowling at the dog behind her.

"He doesn't bark," she pokes at his chest," I have never heard him even make a yelp since he was a puppy so I suggest you come up with a better lie than that."

"A lie," he shouts," your fucking dog barks, stop thinking he is some sort of mute."

"He does not," she shouts back.

"Does too," he steps closer.

"Does not," she raises her chin.

"Does too," he grabs her hips.

"Does not," she tugs at his shirt.

"Does too," he says, lowering closer to her. Before she can get her turn he quiets her with a rather harsh kiss, mashing his lips to hers. They grapple one another, pulling the other closer as they stumble into her apartment.

Church kicks the door shut as he fumbles with her shirt. She helps, parting from him long enough to cast the clothing aside. He tugs her back in for a sloppy kiss, delving his tongue into her mouth as she unbuttons his top. Thrusting his shirt down his arms while they bump into the sofa. Church beings unclasping her bra, uncoordinated as she sucks on his tongue.

The two fall to the couch, church not wasting any time with her freshly revealed tits. Imani gasps, petting down his chest to his pants. As he suckles on a nipple as she pulls him from his pants, holding his cock in her hand. He stutters in his attentions, panting heavily against her chest as she jerks him off.

"Oh, fuck," he groans.

"Like that big boy," she steals his attention, him looking at her cocky smile.

"Shut up," he reaches down to her pants, palming her through her jeans. She bucks into his hand, rolling her eyes at his smirk. He quickly discards her bottoms, tossing them away without a care. He watches her as he pets at her pussy, delving between her lips to feel how soaked she is for him.

"Am I wrong to assume this is all for me," he pushes a finger in. she clenches her jaw, groaning from the intrusion. He chuckles, feeling rather confident as she rides his hand. Not caring for his large ego she reaches for his cock once more, feeling him throb in her grip.

"Am I wrong to assume this is all for me," she mimics back smugly. He throws her an annoyed look, removing his fingers and slapping her hand away. Dropping a hand beside her head he leans down, looking between them as he prods his cock to her pussy. They both flinch, eager above all else. They both watch as his head parts her lips, poking at her clit with short nudges.

"You think I can make you scream like those damn Halloween recordings," he jokes as he grinds into her.

"No, I don't think you have the stamina," she jabs back, trying to stop the urge to buck against him. Church leans down and nuzzles against her neck, pressing a sweet kiss under her jaw.

"I guess we will just have to see," he grins, feeling less confident than his words suggest. His cock is damn near ready to burst with just his tip being coated in her sweet juices.

Church reaches between them, pressing his cock to her entrance. He guides his tip in, stretching his arm up to rest it beside her head. The only warning he gives her is a sultry smile before he shoves forward, both crying out at the suddenness.

"Oh, shit," Church whimpers beside her ear. Imani grabs at his arms, feeling utterly stuffed. He pulls back, thrusting forward quickly. Imani appreciates him not wasting time just pistoning into her. The need has been building up all week, the denial adding a new level of appeal to this want.

He rams into her, listening to her try to hide her cries of pleasure. He feels her body tell him what he needs to know, feels her walls pulling him in with every buck of his hips. She wants him as badly as he wanted her. It's satisfying to church to know this. To know that she needs this as much as he does. Not wanting to miss a thing he sits up, grabbing her hips as he does.

"Look at you," he groans," trying to hold back those little moans and whimpers. Don't fight it, babe, I wanna hear you." Imani startles herself with a cry, arching her back as his words add kindle to the fire. She wants to pretend this isn't happening, that she isn't getting fucked by her apartment enemy. But damn, does it feel fantastic.

Church watches her writhe on the couch, his stomach clenching as he tries to fight off cumming at the sight. Her tits bounce with each clap of their hips and it's driving him wild. Reluctantly he shuts his eyes, thinking about anything else to prolong this blissful torture.

Imani wails and whimpers as her insides are set aflame. As her orgasm comes rushing to the forefront she locks her legs around his waist, grinding like a madwoman into his thrust. She cries out her pleasure, utterly wrecked as she falls apart.

Church chokes on his breath as she clenches around him. He can barely think as she holds him in a vice grip. His hips go wild as he finds himself coming to an end. It's only half a thought that he undoes her legs and pulls out, grinding against her as he cums on her stomach. Imani watches in rapture as he tosses his head back and moans, the sound going straight to her already throbbing clit. She watches him spray out over her and she can't look away for even a second.

Church falls onto his hands, panting as he holds himself over her. He can't believe it. He got to fuck the cute hellspawn that has been tormenting him all month. At this moment he couldn't even think about the countless hours of sleep missed because of her little pranks. Right now all he can think of is holding her close and taking a much-needed nap. As he attempts the action he looks to her stomach.

Imani is bone-deep satisfied. Her body is relaxed against the couch and she feels like she's on cloud nine. She hardly notices when Church climbs off her, his footsteps fading away. When she does notice, it stabs at her heart a little. She watches him button up his pants, reaching to the floor to grab his shirt. I guess he's leaving, she thinks.

Church grabs his shirt from the floor, bunching it up as he turns back to her. She looks surprised when he crouches beside her and mops up the mess on her stomach with his top. He wants to laugh at the shocked expression but bites his cheek against it. With her all clean he tosses the shirt away and crawls in beside her. The couch is rather small so he lifts her onto his chest, lounging on his back. He cradles her against his front, ready to take a well-deserved nap.

Imani is rather confused as she watches him fall asleep. She fully figured he would dip after everything, she surely didn't expect anything from this. They were still in a war. A truce was never called but she can't help but think this changes something.

Shrugging, she snuggles up to him, enjoying his soft fur against her cheek. This is a problem she will deal with in the morning.

Imani wakes up alone in her bed. She is nearly tempted to figure the night with Church was all a dream till she feels the subtle ache in her legs. Ride a bull, you should expect some soreness. She chuckles to herself as she dresses. Walking into the kitchen she prepares for a lazy day indoors while she figures out how to deal with Church and her's relationship. As she gets ready to feed her pup does she realize the lack of said pooch.

"uh, Giovani," she calls out. No answer. She calls out again, searching around her apartment frantically. Did he get out while the door was open last night? Surely she would have noticed if he managed to sneak past. She rounds the apartment again just in case before she runs to the door, throwing it open in a rush. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots something hanging on her peephole. She tenses at the sight, snatching it.

Imani I have your dog Church

Imani scoffs, crumpling the letter as she marches downstairs. She can't believe she let herself think that things would change between them. That this little prank war can be swapped out for an actual relationship, friendship or otherwise. Above all, she can't believe he stole her dog.

Rounding the corner and stopping at door 15 she pounds her fist against the wood. She continues pounding till the door opens, revealing a smirking Church.

"Hello, babe, what brings you here so early," he asks, leaning against the frame.

"You stole my fucking dog, I want him back," she snaps, no ounce of playfulness available. Church nearly stutters on his act, a little worried about her protectiveness over her dog.

"Now, I stole him for his own good," he explains," with his separation anxiety I figured it is best if he got used to my apartment since I'm going to take up training him."

Imani scoffs," Excuse me? My dog doesn't have separation anxiety nor does he need to be trained by some dog snatching idiot with horns."

Church deadpans," idiot with horns?"

"It's early, they can't all be gold," she rolls her eyes," doesn't matter, give me my dog back."

Church shakes his head, frustrated at her denial. Instead of answering her, he calls for the pup, leaning down to pet him when he comes trotting over. With the dog properly excited he takes a step into the hallway with Imani and shuts the door. Imani looks from him then back to the door.

"What are you doing," she asks.

"Just wait," he holds up a finger. They both stand silently, nothing happening. Imani opens her mouth to acknowledge the ridiculous of waiting in front of a door when her dog begins whining, yelping loudly from inside the apartment. Church looks over to her with a smug grin, "Told you he barks."

Imani flusters, gawking at the door and listening to her dog cry out. Church opens the door, the pup running out and jumping at Imani. Still embarrassed, she pets at her dog before picking him up and walking away. Church watches her turn the corner, not saying a word as she departs. He sighs.

It's a good day of nothing that picks at Church. Surely he didn’t push too far, he didn't really intend to keep her dog so it wasn't that mean. He just wanted to prove that her dog did bark, finishing the month-long war on a hopeful note. It wasn't meant as another attack against her. He really did intend to help by offering to train her dog.

Throughout the day he debates going up there and apologizing, to offer an olive branch of some kind so he can actually get to know her. Last night for Church was…amazing. It was something he wants to do again, to explore further. That may be a pipe dream now.

Late into the afternoon church gets a knock on his door. He jumps up, feeling rather stupid as he quickly answers the door. Expecting Imani he is left disappointed as no one is there. No one could have left that fast. He looks down the hall, left to right. Nothing. With a defeated sigh he begins to close the door. He stops when a fluttering piece of paper catches his eye. Excited, he snaps it off the door unfolding it swiftly.

Church,

Dinner at my place, 8 pm

-Imani

Church smiles to himself, refolding the paper and heading back inside to get ready.

#12 days of christmas #12 tropes for christmas #Enigma-IM #monster boyfriend #exophilia #enemies to lovers #minotaur boyfriend

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i-need-entertainment · 3 years

Text

Adriah Thomas + “Make you mine”

“This is the 16th Oneshot for the Valentines Day Event!! Thank you so much for requesting!!

ALSO, this is the 3rd Oneshot for Adriah Thomas, I am so happy that people are requesting him!!! He is the ~love of my life~

**So uh...this turned out really long, but I don’t regret it, enjoy~**

Character: Adriah Thomas x reader

You waved to your neighbor before opening the door to your apartment, Adriah sighing as he shook his head, entering his own. For the past 6 months Adriah Thomas, a starting middle blocker for the MSBY Black Jackals a division 1 sports team has been hopelessly pining after his neighbor, who he could never seem to talk to. This all started when you moved about 8 months ago, you had had been trying to move some stuff up, but the elevator was under maintenance and you lived on the 7th floor. Luckily, the sweet old Land lady let you know about the sweet, strong, handsome young man that lived in the apartment to the right of yours.

You then knocked on his door with a smile, apologizing for disturbing him as you asked if he wouldn’t mind helping you. To this day he never could forget the flip his stomach did when he first saw you, and he did everything he could that day to keep himself from making a fool in front of you. He did not, and by the end of the day you had happily asked him to be friends. Friends because you had a boyfriend.

Over the next few months you and Adriah became close- not too close of course, you had a boyfriend and even if he had developed feelings for you he’d never actively pursue a taken woman. But that didn’t stop him from being a good friend. Adriah quickly became someone you could always go to, for a friendly chat, an uplifting conversation, a shoulder to cry on, a listening ear. Honestly, the list went on. He was there when your boyfriend decided he couldn’t be, he was there when your boyfriend would walk all over your feelings, he was there when your boyfriend would make you feel worthless.

If he was being honest with himself, he was being a better boyfriend to you then your actual boyfriend was, and you didn’t even know he had feelings for you! It hurt him to watch, it really did. And he tried to give you his advice, to leave him, that you were so much better than him, that you deserved so much better. But no matter what, all it took was a half-hearted apology and some day-old flowers and you’d forgive him like nothing happened.

Your boyfriend, Daiki Matsumoto. He was some ‘big time’ financial advisor for a financing company or, something like that. You didn’t talk about him a lot and Adriah didn’t ask. You spoke about him like he hung the stars in the sky, that is when he was on a winning streak as a boyfriend, which by Adriah’s count wasn’t often. Apparently you and Daiki had met in your junior year of college and you had been together since then.

3 years had passed, and you were still with him despite how frustrating and downright toxic it had gotten. It wasn’t abusive, Adriah definitely would have gotten more seriously involved then. But it wasn’t healthy either and it hurt him to see you have to go through that. At first he had been trying not to judge Daiki based off of what you had said, wanting to be able to make a clear and precise conclusion about him when he got to actually meet him....

Until he actually met him and realized he wasn’t that bad. He was worse. Adriah had gone out with the rest of MSBY, nothing too crazy because they are professional athletes, just out to a nice bar to have a drink or two and have some fun. Adriah had been sat at the table with Barnes, Inunaki and Meian while the MSBY 4 attempted to play pool, Bokuto & Hinata hilariously demolishing Atsumu & Sakusa.

The evening had been very pleasant. Definitely a breath of fresh air from their usually busy schedules. All had been going very well until another party had walked in, you and Daiki being among the other guests. Adriah had sent a smile and a friendly wave towards you, one you had happily returned. It was about an hour later, it was only 7:05, so the night was still young. Adriah had waited, not wanting to disturb you in case you were on a date until he excused himself from the table going to say hi to you where you sat at the bar.

“Hey Y/n.” The ‘smile’ you had been wearing earlier instantly turned bright, finally reaching your eyes as you turned to face him on the bar stool you sat at. He also noticed that you had been sitting there alone, when you came with at least 10 other people. “What happened to the group you were with...?” You sighed as you looked down, slightly turning so you could lean one of your elbows on the polished bar top stirring the small straw around in your drink.

“They weren’t really my group to begin with...just some of Daiki’s friends from work.” He nodded, him gesturing to the seat beside you which you invited him to sit in. It’s not like anyone was going to be joining you. You and Adriah talked for a good hour before someone cleared their throat behind you. You turned, “Oh! Daiki, this is my neighbor, Adriah Thomas. He’s here-” “I know...MSBY, right?”

Adriah nodded his head, putting on a fake smile to hide the clench of his jaw or the way his hand tightened around his glass. “You must be Matsumoto?” Daiki had a sort of, smug, smile as he slowly nodded, coming to stand behind you as he wrapped a hand around your shoulders. “You’re a professional volleyball player, huh? That’s certainly...interesting. I imagine it’s not very stable.” Adriah took a moment to collect himself. He wasn’t known for his temper like Inunaki, and he wasn’t known for intimidation like Meian.

But he could only take so much from someone he already didn’t like. “No more than any other job, but it pays the bills.” Daiki simply hummed, sounding unimpressed as he played with a piece of your hair, paying no attention to the fact he had insulted one of your close friends right in front of you. Adriah could care less that it was towards him, but he was ticked that Daiki would cause a scene without thinking of how you were feeling. “Anyways, I suppose it’s about time we go, it was nice meeting you-...I’m sorry, what was your name?”

Adriah offered a tight lipped smile, standing and effectively towering over the man. You coughed to hide the snicker that was sure to break through at the straight intimidation you saw in your boyfriends eyes. “Adriah Thomas, goodbye Matsumoto. I’ll see you around Y/n.” Adriah returned to his table, pretending to ignore the amused look he got from Inunaki and the widened eyes of Meian and Barnes, the other 4 still immersed in their ‘game’.

That all went down about 2 months ago, and Adriah’s opinion on your boyfriend had not changed. Adriah had been sitting on his couch, watching some TV. It was late, about 10:00 so he was gonna go to bed soon anyways. He turned the TV off when he started to doze off, being 6′7 it was never a good idea to fall asleep on the couch. He stood and stretched, cracking his back before he started to close everything down. He went to the door to put on the chain and make sure it’s locked when he heard your voice, you were yelling at someone.

Not wasting a minute he pulled a hoodie over his head and clumsily slipped on some shoes, before he unlatched his door and exited into the hallway. He hadn’t been able to talk to you lately due to MSBY being mid-season and his schedule as busy as ever. So, he hadn’t been able to learn that, “I said we’re done, Matsumoto! I meant what I said last week, we are finished!”

....You had broken up with Daiki....yOU HAD BROKEN UP WITH DAIKI.

“I asked you to leave, so please go. You have no reason to be here-” “I have every reason to be here you ungrateful witch! After everything I did for you and you have the audacity to leave?!” He brought his hand up, about to smack you when the deafening sound on skin on skin made you jump.

Only it wasn’t from you.

You opened your eyes to see Daiki grimacing, you saw a large hand gripping his wrist, your e/c eyes followed the wrist to see, “...Adriah....?” Daiki snarled, “You, stay out of this. This doesn’t concern-” “She asked you to leave.” You felt your heart stop at how low of a voice he was using, dark stare directed straight at Daiki, no hesitation present. Daiki mumbled out some curses, insults none of it mattered, as he scrambled out of the hallway, slamming the door to the stairs shut.

Adriah breathed out a breath of relief before the usual softness he typically carried returned. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” You shook your head, “No, no he didn’t..” You both stood there in silence, both wanting to say something but not knowing how. “Y/n.” You looked up to meet his eyes, one of his large hands coming to rest on your face. Your heart started beating furiously in your chest, the butterflies you got when you first met him returning.

“Don’t go back to him..please..there are better people out there, and you deserve so, so much better...” You smiled, still a little shaken from what had just happened. “..I’m sorry you got dragged into that...I probably caused you a lot of problems. That seems to be the only thing I do.” You bitterly laughed as tears slowly fell down your cheeks, you struggling to hold in the sobs. Shaking his head Adriah leaned down further, resting his forehead on yours as you cried, hands coming to clutch at the sweat shirt he wore.

“...That’s the silliest thing I’ve heard all day, and I spent most of it with Bokuto and Atsumu.” You laughed at that, ‘mission accomplished’ Adriah smiled as his other hand came to cup your face as well, wiping the tears that were, albeit slowing down, still falling. “You are so sweet Adriah...you..you deserve someone real- really nice...and-and better....” Adriah shifted his gaze to meet yours, the proximity, or rather lack of it, between you making your already beating heart beat that much faster.

He smiled as he stroked your cheekbone, leaning in close. His lips were so close, so close to your own as he spoke. “I already have....” Tilting his head he secured his lips on yours, kissing you with all of the softness and love he could, trying to let you know just how much he cared about you, how much he truly loved you. Pulling away from the kiss he backed up a bit so he could look you in the eye.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I mean that...I could never get someone better because there is no one better...I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same, and it’s okay if you don’t, I probably made things really weird..I can go-” He almost stumbled back at the sheer force of you throwing yourself at him, clutching onto him for dear life as you shook your head. “I feel the same, I do I promise!” Smiling, Adriah wrapped his arms around you, holding you in the hallway of the apartment building you both lived in.

Later, you’d probably kick yourself for dragging the relationship with Daiki on for so long. Adriah laughing as you hit his arm, you telling him he should have told you sooner. But one of the many things you would learn about Adriah Thomas was as determined and patient as he was, he easily had the biggest heart of any man you had ever met. And as you entered this new relationship you couldn’t help but hope that it would be your last, and the ring that sat in a box in his pocket was proof he would make that dream a reality.

“You know that I won’t stop until I make you mine, Until I make you mine”

#adriah thomas #adriah tomas #adriah x reader #thomas x reader #tomas x reader #MSBY #msby black jackal #msby black jackals #Haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuufanfiction #Valentines Day Event 2021 #hq oneshot #y/n #I am very happy people are requesting my man Thomas~ He needs more *love*

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years

Text

Your place

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (High School AU)

Warnings: yandere, obsession, bullying, threats, non-con.

Words: 1510.

Summary: You suffer in the arms of America's golden boy, the one who has been bullying you for years.

P.S. I just realized most of my smut fics are about Bucky, so I decided to write one with Steve instead. Btw, all characters had reached 18 years of age. Hope you'll enjoy!

______________

"Damn girl, you better put some makeup." Someone's loud voice behind your back made you flinch. "Y'know, you can still do something about that face."

You heard a burst of laughter and bit your lips. It had always been a part of your daily routine for several years once you moved to New York and went to Abraham Lincoln High School. God, you regretted it with all your heart.

"Come on, Sam. Give her some credit." You didn't even need to turn your head to know who was speaking. "She's the natural beauty, isn't she?"

You spun on your heels, watching harshly the group of guys leaning against the wall and smirking at you, all beefy, muscular and tall. The biggest assholes in whole Brooklyn; players of Howling Commandos, your school's basketball team; the ones most of the girls dreamed about and to whom they sent love letters every goddamn week, as the guys claimed. They had been your absolute nightmare since you got transferred to this place.

You glanced at Steve Rogers, America's golden boy, incredibly handsome with those blonde hair and blue eyes; the picture-perfect image of a diligent, polite student; the one whose face they put on promotional posters every year. You knew better than anyone else who was hiding behind this facade of "just a kid from Brooklyn".

"What, are you moody after yesterday's game?" You smirked, knowing very well that they had just lost against Hydra, the team Steve always hated with all his soul. "Go fuck youself and calm down, dear. Or are your buddies gonna lend you a hand, maybe?"

The smile fell from his face as the guy frowned, his bright blue eyes burning a hole in your figure. You guessed he really missed those days when you just listened quietly while he and his friends kept insulting you, but these days were long gone. You grew some teeth by the end of your final year.

"Listen, you little..." Bucky hissed, but Steve raised his hand and made him fall silent as you grinned, clenching your lunchbox in your hands.

Oh, he was mad. You knew well how much Rogers detested swear words, especially if they were coming from a woman's mouth.

"Watch your language, girl," his voice was unusually hoarse, his eyes watching you intensely, "or I'll have to teach you how to speak to a man myself."

"I'd like to see that." You giggled nervously, relieved there were enough students passing by to prevent Steve from doing anything stupid. "But if you want to complain to Mr. Banner to give me a detention, please feel free, dear."

You turned around with a silly smile on your face, waiting for him and his friends to give you some more empty threats, but you heard nothing at all as you kept walking. Suddenly feeling victorious and somewhat invincible, you laughed to youself, hurrying away. Did you just make those assholes silent, gasping for words at your audacity? Did it truly shut their goddamn mouths? God, it was unbelievable. Well, maybe going against Steve Rogers wasn't wise, but you couldn't pretend you were okay with that attitude of his after all those years of pure humiliation. You did nothing but protected yourself, right? Besides, he could hardly do anything since you were never alone at school, and after finishing your classes you were lucky to be driven home by your dad who worked close.

But maybe buying a mace wasn't a bad idea.

You laughed at yourself, finally arriving at the cafeteria and landing on one of the seats with a loud sigh. You knew Steve and his friends wouldn't do anything - their college admission was at stake, and you'd be happy to provide police with all the details if anything were to happen to you. Surely, they wouldn't risk it for just a few words you exchanged with them this morning.

_________________

Shit, you were so late for your PE class! Everyone was already at the field while you ran to the locker room, gasping for air. You didn't need Maximoff to yell at you the third time this month.

You threw your bag to the floor once you spotted your locker and jumped to it, abandoning your skirt in a matter of seconds and desperately trying to get your shorts out. You didn't care much about your surroundings as no one else was inside the locker room. Class had already started 10 minutes ago.

You didn't think anyone could be waiting for you here on purpose.

Before your heard the lock snap, somebody slammed your body into the locker, pressing you to its cool metal door so hard you lost your ability to move. Frightened to death, you were ready to scream, but someone's hand clamped over your mouth, muffling the sound. God, what was happening? Who was that? Why didn't you see anyone?

"Shhh, it's okay." You knew this voice too well. "You can keep screaming, but there's no one around, you know that."

You grunted against his hand, trying your best to throw the huge guy off you but achieving little: Steve was a bull of a man. His enormously big body leaned so close to yours that you could feel his every fucking muscle with his chest pressed to your back. His other hand gripped your throat tighter to make you stop squirming.

You needed to keep your mouth shut today instead of provoking him.

"Yeah, like that." Steve shushed you in a mockingly gentle tone, lifting his hand from your mouth and nuzzling against your ear, inhaling your scent. "I like when you're quiet."

"What the fuck are you doing, Rogers?" You asked him furiosly, pretending you weren't frightened to death. "Have you lost your head?"

"Language." His low gutteral growl made you shiver as you felt his palm on your neck moving.

Clenching your teeth, you tried pushing him away once more, but instead you just grinded against his heated body and realized he was... aroused, the bulge in his pants obvious as you moved your ass. God, no. No, no, no! You were at the edge of going into hysterics, shaking and pushing and crying with his hand on your mouth again. It was hard to breath with so little space Steve gave you, his unbearably hot body covering yours.

"What happened, dear? Cat got your tongue?" You were disgusted at his sweet loving tone. "Aw, don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. You wanted me to teach you how to speak to a man, remember?"

His grip on you was madly strong - you winced in pain once Steve had squeezed the cheek of your ass with his huge calloused palm, your head pressed into the cool metal locker as he hovered above you. When he started kissing your neck, you bit your tongue in utter despair. He was fucking sick. Deranged. He was ready to do this over some little quarrel when the only thing you actually did was responding to his bullying.

Your mind was hazy as you started losing your strength after good five-minute struggle. Rogers didn't relent in his efforts to keep you pinned and completely defenseless.

"This is rape, Steve." You whispered, exhausted and anxious. "Do you understand?"

"Come on, what are you saying?"

His hand travelled down to your hips as he caressed them gently and moved to tug your panties down your legs.

"You're so wet for me, dear. How can you call it rape?" You shut your eyes when Steve touched you down there, forcing you to spread your legs and settling in against the craddle of your thighs. As he moved the elastic of your black panties, his fingers were playing with your folds, and you realized with shame he was right as he spread a bit of your wetness on your skin playfully. "Admit it, you have a thing for bullies."

"No, I d..."

Before you could bark at him he forced you to turn your head and kissed you hungrily, pushing his tongue in your half-opened mouth. You squirmed, grasping his hand, yet his arm that he used to hold your chin before swept yours away as he pushed you against the locker even harder. You could feel his erected cock through the fabric of his school pants.

Making a soft noise at the feeling of his tongue rubbing against yours, you heard Rogers groaning, his chest heaved. If you could pull away, a shudder would rush down your spine at the sight of his face. Instead of a school bully there was a predator waiting to tear his prey apart.

"Stop, please..." You panted heavily once he finished kissing you, his fingers still caressing your womanhood, your juices leaking down your thighs. "Why me? What have I done? You have hundreds of girls who want to throw themselves at you."

He smiled and rested his sweating forehead against yours, teasing your entrance.

"You see, it's easy. You get off on being bullied, and I get off on bullying you." Steve started rubbing little circles on your engorged clit, admiring your blushing cheeks. "We can have so much fun together if you just stop resisting me and take your place."

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @lovelydarkdaydream

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #captain america #yandere

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oureuphoria · 4 years

Text

Mocha Kinda Guy

Genre: fluff, comedy

Pairing: non-idol!jimin x cafeworker!reader

Word count: 3.1K

Warnings: Nothing this is just 3,163 words of pure fluff.

Note: First of all I would like to apologise anon because this is kind of late. Thank you for requesting this because it made me smile internally and externally. I have busted out every cliche in the book for this oneshot because Jimin is literally perfect how could I not. Enjoy!

“What do you mean I have to do closes now? I always do opens, that was our deal!” You angrily reasoned to your boss, also your best friend Hoseok. “Taehyung forgot to tell me he’s leaving the country for a goddamn month till the night before he left so I just need you to cover for him.” You stopped wiping the table and tried to throw the rag at him but the wind made it fall embarrassingly short. “Who’s going to do my opens then?” You smiled bitterly, he gave you a taunting glare before picking up the rag and throwing it right in your face. “I will.” You groaned before going back to wiping the tables, preparing them for what could be your last open. “You know I hate working nights, they’re scary, what if I get kidnapped and die? Besides, I walk home Hoseok and we close at 9pm on good nights!” He gave you a pitiful smile before putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I would do it but I have dance classes at night. You’ll be fine, your apartment is only 10 minutes away.” You gave up, nodding with an exasperated sigh. You had to accept your fate, this was your last open.

So far, your night shift had been disastrous. You ran to the cafe from college and then haphazardly put on your apron before rushing in to take over Hoseok who was now late for his class and angry at you. You couldn’t help it though, Hoseok wasn’t the only person with important classes. You weren’t the only worker at the cafe but Hoseok only trusted a handful of people to run the cafe while he wasn’t there and unfortunately, you were one of them. You had just closed and you were so glad to be closed you just sat there and stared into the void. The other two workers just clocked out after cleaning and now all you were left to do was count the registers, close all of the machines, lock everything up and hope you don’t die during the process.

You were still staring into nothing when a voice spoke up. “Rough night?” You jumped so quickly that you hit your foot on a table leg. “Sorry, we’re closed.” You let out through a wince while you held onto your foot, hopping around stupidly. The voice which you now recognise as a very attractive man had chuckled at your pain before running a hand through his hair. “You don’t usually work nights, where’s Taehyung?” Under the impression that he was just looking for his friend, you gave him a friendly smile before replying. “He took an exchange program, he’s in Japan for a month. He didn’t tell you?” The boy shook his head before stepping a little closer. “We’re not that close. I’m Hoseok’s friend from dance and I come here often at night so Taehyung and I became acquainted.” You nodded, unsure of how to tell this very handsome man to get the fuck out because you didn’t want to die while walking home. “Well, it was nice meeting you…” “Jimin.” “Jimin. But we are actually closed and I need to lock-up so…” You drifted off while he stepped even closer, staring into your eyes with a cunning smile on his face. “Taehyung always made me coffee after he closed, my practices run pretty late.” You liked to think you were immune to charming men but this Jimin guy was something else. You couldn’t even bring yourself to reject him so you begrudgingly moved to get behind the coffee machine.

“So, how do you like your coffee?” You really hoped he wasn’t a black-coffee kind of person, if he was you might have had to kick him out. “Mocha, iced please.” Oh, a man of taste. You nodded before moving to make the drink though you had to admit you were weirdly motivated to make sure it was perfect. After it was done, you held out the cup to him and he took it with a smile, leaving a $10 note on the bench. “Wait, let me get your change.” He waved you off with a smirk. “Keep it.” He winked and you just stood in shock, trying to suppress the blood rushing to your cheeks. You were sure he was just being friendly but he was super flirtatious about it and it left you flustered. You thought that would’ve been the end, he would walk out the door and you could finish closing in peace but he sat there, taking his phone out and scrolling through it as he sipped his drink.

“Um, Jimin-” He looked up at you and you weren’t exactly sure that you wanted him to leave, it wouldn’t hurt if he just stayed while you closed, right? He sure was a sight for sore eyes and boy were your eyes sore. “Yeah?” You just shook your head quickly while picking up the money tray from the register. “Never-mind.” You quickly walked to the office before you could somehow manage to embarrass yourself further.

After counting the register, turning off all the machines and cleaning whatever wasn’t clean yet, you were finally done with your close and it was 9:50. Not your proudest record. Throughout the entire process, you had developed a routine with Jimin. You stare at him, he looks at you, smiles and you foolishly try to pretend you weren’t staring in the first place; vice versa. He stayed there the entire time and you wondered why he did, he finished his drink in the first 20 minutes.

“Hey, I’m leaving now so you really need to go, sorry.” He nodded and you unlocked the door, opening it for him so he could leave while you locked it again the moment you got outside. “You’re not walking home, are you?” Jimin asked, looking back at you while he put his motorcycle helmet on. You wondered if you were just imagining this, he seemed like he was straight out of a movie and you were definitely finding it suspicious. Maybe he was just a figment of your imagination. “No, my roommate’s picking me up.” You lied. Your roommate is in fucking Japan while you’re stuck covering his shifts. You weren’t sure why you lied but the idea of having a stranger take you home just made you shiver, even if the stranger was insanely handsome. Part of you argued that you wouldn’t mind being murdered at the hands of this man but the rational part argued that you had a pet fish to feed.

He nodded before hopping on his motorcycle and driving away, you waited till he turned onto another street before you began walking home. The walk home wasn’t that bad except for your constant paranoia. You kept looking over your shoulder and walked extremely close to walls. Eventually, you made it and in one piece too. “Hey, Gary.” Yes, you named your fish Gary because he was pink like Gary from SpongeBob and you’re not that creative. You jumped onto your bed before looking at the time and hoping that Taehyung would be awake so you could FaceTime him. “Good morning!” You scrunched your face at his perky attitude, your time zones seemed to clash horribly. “Who’s Jimin?” Taehyung’s face morphed into a teasing one before he jumped onto his bed, hand under his chin with a suggestive smile on his face. “Why, does someone have a crush?” You glared and he laughed at your lack of amusement, you began to wonder why you called him in the first place. “No, but apparently now I have to serve him coffee after we close thanks to the legacy you left behind.” Taehyung chuckled at what you said but paid it no mind, adamant on telling you all about his first few days in Japan.

“And then she has the audacity, to tell me that I didn’t use soy milk? I was fuming it was just- Y/N are you even listening?” You broke out of your trance after Jin had given you a shake. “Pay attention to me!” It was time for you to take over Jin’s shift but Jin had stayed back to tell you about an annoying customer. Eventually, after Jin had ranted about everything he could possibly think of, he left and you were on your own with 3 other employees for the next 7 hours. Fun.

Once you had closed, you were on your own once again to finish things off and almost like clockwork, Jimin showed up. You closed at 10pm today, it was a Saturday and you were extremely busy. This also meant that closing the store took longer than you’d hoped. Jimin stayed the entire time though and your heart couldn’t help but jump at the idea that he was staying for you.

Once it was time to lock-up, Jimin went outside and leaned on his motorbike, not yet getting on it. “You’re not leaving?” You asked nervously. The last thing you needed was for him to figure out you were lying about being picked up. “I’ll wait for you to get picked up, it’s pretty late.” You nodded absentmindedly, trying to think of a way out of the awkward predicament you had stumbled into. You waited for about 20 minutes. You thought of calling an uber but paying $20 for what could just be a 10-minute walk seemed stupid. “Y/N, you’re not getting picked up, are you?” Jimin gave you a smirk, his head cocked to the side with an amused look on his face and you sighed, you were caught. You shook your head and he chuckled, opening the storage compartment of his motorbike and fishing out a spare helmet.

“You don’t have to take me home, it’s a really short walk!” You tried to reason but he was already making his way to you. He put the helmet on your head, clasping it shut under your chin. His hands felt smooth on your skin and you couldn’t help but yearn for the feeling once it was gone. “I’d be damned if I let you walk alone at this hour.” He got on, waiting for you to join him but all you did was gulp. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, he had been coming every night for a solid 2-weeks and you had gotten pretty friendly. It was simply because you were absolutely horrified of motorcycles. They were practically death machines. There was a reason you didn’t drive yourself everywhere. The idea of controlling an entire vehicle terrified you because frankly enough you had trouble navigating yourself as is. “You’re not scared of motorcycles, right?” He said it with a teasing smile and the tone of his voice didn’t sit well with you. “If you’re implying that I’m a pussy, Park, then no, I’m not.” You begrudgingly got onto the bike behind him.

“You look like you saw a ghost.” You had finally arrived at your apartment and you could have sworn it felt longer than 5 minutes. “Yeah, my own. How do you drive this thing? We nearly died like 11 times.” He chuckled but didn’t humour your fears. “You’re more likely to die walking home alone at night than on my bike, Y/N.” You scoffed, removing the helmet and (slowly) getting off the bike. “I’ll see you in the afterlife then.” You were about to walk up to your apartment before there was a halt in your step. You turned around to face Jimin and gave him a genuine smile. “Thank you.” He smiled back and waved. He got off the bike to put your helmet back and before you knew it he was gone.

“Taehyung, I hate you.” He grinned at the screen, undeterred by your negative behaviour. You had been mad at him ever since you found out he went to Disneyland in Tokyo without you. “iTs jUsT fOr ScHoOL I sWeAr.” You mocked him and this time he showed offence. “What about that time you snuck out and didn’t tell me?” You raked your mind for when you could have ever done that before gasping in shock. “You mean when I snuck out to the fucking dentist because you were sick and wouldn’t let me leave? How is that-” Your phone made a notification sound from its position on your bedside table. You reached over to grab it and your scowl quickly turned into a smile. “Damn, who’s the god who got mighty Y/N all smiley?” You looked at him through the camera screen and he could almost feel your glare burning holes into his soul. “Jimin. That’s right, I stole your coffee friend.” Taehyung cocked his eyebrow before leaning closer to the camera screen with a suggestive smile. “May I enquire for some more information, kind sir?” You put your phone down after replying, leaning down in the same position as Taehyung and giving him a polite smile. “I’m sorry, you cannot.”

After Taehyung had pointed out your smile, you had realised you might’ve gotten too giddy. You began combing through every interaction you had with Jimin over the past 2-weeks and you realised, by the end of it that you definitely had a huge undeniable crush on Jimin. Fuck. You were now inevitably screwed. You were sure he couldn’t possibly like you back. It was simply unrealistic. You tried to talk yourself out of it, write yourself out of it, hell, you even meditated for 20 minutes but to no avail. You fell for the annoyingly charming boy you swore you wouldn’t fall for.

You were looking outside the glass doors, searching for a certain blonde. It had been the fifth day in a row that Jimin hadn’t shown up to the coffee shop. He’d been really dry with his text messages too and you were getting worried. Did you do something stupid to scare him away? You were getting ready to leave, locking the doors when you heard a motorcycle drive up. When he took his helmet off, your eyes locking for an incredibly long 6 seconds, you realised he was no longer blonde. “Your hair is black!” He chuckled lightly, ruffling said hair cutely. “Hello to you too.” Your smile quickly fell when you remembered that he’d been low-key avoiding you and Jimin noticed. “I had a dance performance. It was in South Korea and it charged me like $2 for every text.” He smiled bashfully and you could almost feel your heart turn into liquid. “If you had an iPhone then this wouldn’t have been a problem.” You always shamelessly mocked him for his android and he genuinely missed it.

He got off his bike, only to take out the godforsaken helmet you grew to hate. “No. Absolutely not.” He gave you a longing look, holding it out to you. You cursed yourself and your inability to reject this godly man. “Please, I want to take you somewhere.” Your eyebrows cocked up in curiosity, you had to go now. You grabbed the helmet from his hands, putting it on unenthusiastically. Jimin held out his hand to help you get on the bike and once you did, you held onto him for dear life. “Y/N, we’re not even moving yet.” He let out through breathy laughs and you contemplated on what to say next. “I know, I just missed you.” You couldn’t see it but Jimin’s face broke out into a beaming smile, and if you looked really hard you could probably see him blush. “I missed you too. But mostly your coffee.” Before you could reply he had started the engine and you were scared into silence.

You had no idea where he was taking you, it seemed almost comical to think about how literally 3-weeks ago you suspected this man to be a cunning murderer and now you were on his motorcycle with an unknown destination. You reached a building somewhere in the city and you wondered if he was taking you to his apartment. “Are you going to murder me?” He paid you no mind, parking his bike and helping you get off. He held your hand to guide you in and you ended up walking at least 10 flights of stairs. “Jimin, if your plan was to exhaust me so you could kill me, you would’ve been good like 7 floors ago.” You heard him laugh but once you got to the very top floor, he opened a large exit door. “Welcome to my special place.” It was a rooftop and the view was extremely incredible. You didn’t say anything, just stared in hopes of burning this view into your memory forever. You ran to the very edge excitedly, leaning against it, Jimin walking behind you. “The view is so beautiful.” “Yeah, it is.” Perhaps if you had looked back, you would have noticed Jimin wasn’t staring at the view, he was staring right at you.

“Thanks for sharing this with me.” You said, still in awe at the view. You had been standing there for about 10 minutes when Jimin put his hand over yours, intertwining them casually. You turned to him but he wasn’t looking at you and you wondered if this was something he did with all his friends. Suddenly, you didn’t feel as happy as you initially did coming up here and evidently, you were not that good at hiding it. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” You shook your head quickly, waving him off and muttering a quiet ‘nothing’. He clearly wasn’t buying it though and forced you to turn around and face him. “Do you want me to take you home?” You shook your head again, scolding yourself for letting your feelings get this out of hand. “Nothing is wrong, I promise.” You were almost sure he wasn’t believing a thing that came out of your mouth and you were unsure how to dig yourself out of the hole you made.

“I like you, Jimin. And, I guess I was a little upset because you don’t like me back but it’s okay I-” He pulled you extremely close to him, hand snugly holding your cheek. You stopped talking immediately at the close proximity, a little too stunned to even think. “I think the coffee fried your brain, baby.” You looked a little taken aback, too focused on the insult to notice the pet name. Before you could think of a witty reply, his gorgeous lips were on yours and it felt euphoric. There were fireworks going off in your head and if this was a movie you were sure it would start heavily raining and some cheesy song would start playing. However, this wasn’t a movie. This extremely attractive, charming, sweet, extremely out-of-your-league man was kissing you and it was real(?) “I like you too, you moron.”

#jimin #jimin fluff #jimin fanfic #jimin oneshot #bts #bts fic #bts scenarios #bts fanfics #bts imagines #anon please enjoy!

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rouletterook · 5 years

Text

Assumptions - Colson Baker

Summary - The reader calls it quits with Colson due to him appearing to be cheating. While on vacation with a new boyfriend, the reader finds more unexpected news.

Authors Note - This is like 3.5k/3.6k words so uh I’m sorry. I wanted this to be as non-cliche as I could to keep it fresh ya know. Also shout out to the cult for inspo because I had no idea how to make it not cliche.

August 29

"Y/N-"

"I said I don't even want to look at him," you snapped. "What's done is done. I don't need a sad, poor me story about what happened."

"Hear me out, just for a second, don't you think it's a little unfair for you to-"

"Drop him like a sack of shit? Nope. I saw the pictures from so many different people each with the same thing at a different angle," you said wiping the tears from your face.

"You are being so difficult, oh my god," your friend Chris sighed into his phone. "Me and Daniel need to take you out and find you a gay dad approved guy because obviously something you're doing ain't working," he joked half-heartedly.

"I'm just over everything. I want to curl up in a little ball and sleep forever." When you first saw the pictures, you were sprawled across your bed with a Netlifx comedy special queued up. As you checked the notifications that suddenly flooded your phone, you felt a stabbing in your chest. Each message from friends and family had the same subject matter, Colson. Tears built in your eyes as you swiped through what had been sent your way. You thought maybe it was a joke, that he didn't have his arms slung around some girl while his head was tucked in her neck. Everything solidified in your mind when a TMZ article was posted to Twitter.

"You don't get to die, Y/N. Daniel says 'Fuck him, he ain't shit, and you're a bombass bitch.' Honestly, as much as I hate to say it, Daniel is right for once don't listen to what I said about giving him a chance to explain himself. Get your things from his house, avoid him at all costs, no calls, no texts, I don't care what he says and neither should you, and I'll be booking a flight shortly for you to come and visit us up here in the Bay," he directed. Knowing Chris, he was already searching for the next flight upstate for you.

"I know Baze is home sick, I'll probably have him pack up what I left there and bounce over to drop it off," you thought aloud with a small sniffle. You would have fought back immensely to the idea of them booking you a flight but you knew it's what you really needed and there was no way of talking him out of that. "Wait I still have to break up with him, no? That'll entail me talking to him," you pointed out.

"He'll get the hint when you start ghosting his ass," Daniel yelled from the background reassuring you.

"Yeah, get that Basil kid to do that. Do me a favor though and rest up and I'll send your flight stuff out when I have everything, m'kay? I love you sis. Sorry, WE love you," he corrected himself as Daniel interrupted from the background again.

"I love you guys more than you could ever know. I will rest up and see you both soon."

"G'night mamas."

"Sweet dreams my loves."

You tossed your phone on the pillows after the call ended and rolled over on your back. The tears began to make a reappearance again. This time you didn't know their cause. It could have been the loving and caring nature of Chris and Daniel but it could have also been the event that spun the night in an unplanned direction or the stress and anxiety of what the next few days entailed for you.

You reached for your phone that had lit up with a new notification.

Chrisss

You have a flight into SJ tomorrow departing at 9 am. I KNOW IT'S EARLY but I need you safe up here ASAP :)) sleep well sis

You texted back a thank you and I love you with a big smile on your face after he sent you what you needed to fly out. As much as you were not looking forward to being up so early, you knew it was probably for the best.

You glanced at the time to see it was already 10:05. You shot a quick text to Baze, hoping he was still awake considering he wasn't feeling too well, asking him to box up your belongings and you'll be over in 15 to pick them up. Within seconds your phone was vibrating with a phone call.

"He-"

"Why am I doing this?" he sniffled over the sound of things being knocked around.

"Have you been on Twitter or any social media for that matter?" you questioned with a bit of attitude. You genuinely didn't mean to come off in any aggressive way but as imaginable the topic was very raw and you didn't want to explain everything to him in his condition.

"No but right now I don't wanna know if that's the case. Social media is wild sometimes."

"You sound so stuffy! Are you feeling any better?" you asked trying to steer clear of the subject. You, as mean as it may sound, were happy Baze was under the weather because it meant he wasn't connecting dots as fast or at all for that matter.

"No and I can't sleep and I'm bored because nobody is home, so I'm glad you gave me something to do," you could tell he was smiling just by his tone. You and Baze were very close, almost like siblings that were never around each other too often but knew each other like the alphabet.

"Well, I will be by in a few to pick up my stuff and I'll hang out for a little if you're down but I have some stuff early tomorrow so I can't stay long," you offered understanding how bored he must feel while the guys are out cheating and doing God knows what else at this point.

May 19

"Brandon, shut up no he didn't," you laughed.

"I swear to God, Christian jumped the gate and into the little pond thing," he recalled, “and then the audacity to get in my car with his soaking wet clothes.

"You guys are insane," you smiled shaking your head.

"Just wait, we've only been together for what 5 months? After 6 months, nothing will surprise you," he joked grabbing your hand.

You and Brandon had met shortly after your split with Colson. Once your stuff was removed from his house, you took it upon yourself to block him in every way possible before you got scolded by Chris and Daniel. You stayed with the guys for two weeks and regrouped yourself. You kept in contact with Rook, Slim, Baze and the rest of them but it was becoming less and less until it eventually stopped. It was sad to lose the guys but with everything that happened it was eventually going to come down to it. Once you got home from the Bay Area, there was no outreach from Colson in any way, shape, or form. Considering you blocked him, he was very limited in what he could do but you still felt as though there were lengths he would go to if he really loved you.

Around late September, you decided to get back into the dating scene. You went out here and there but there were no guys that stood out like you were hoping. In early December, things began to look up. You were at the store picking up a few things when you noticed him. He obviously had noticed you as well because as you made your way down the aisle he would pick up various foods and make up puns. At first, it was a bit weird but after a couple you couldn't help but laugh.

Although you had not been together for very long, he decided he wanted to take you on his annual vacation with his friends to Cancún. You insisted you were fine to stay back in L.A. and let him go off and have fun but he insisted you come to be around the people he hangs out with, however it has mainly been you and him spending couple time together.

"Oh, lets go over there," you pointed to a small corner of the beach where there were no people. "I want to get a few good pictures."

"Hey, I'll meet you over there in a second, yeah? Get us some drinks," he said gesturing back to the bar. You nodded and began your little trek while he grabbed drinks. In all honesty, you were relieved to get some breathing time away from him. You expected this trip to be more of a trip with his friends with little couple time rather than just the two of you with occasional time with them.

You spent the next few minutes snapping pictures of the scenery. It was peaceful and you felt calm and spiritually cleansed for the first time since August.

"Y/N," you heard your name in an accent you knew all too well. "Over here." You took a deep breath and plastered a smile on your face before turning to the voice.

"You've got to be kidding me? I can't believe you guys are here," you laughed seeing Rook and Slim walking toward you, Rook waving wildly.

"It's been a while," Slim said reaching out for a hug.

"Yeah, for sure." You gave each of them a hug, something you haven't done in so long and something you missed.

"So, what brings you to-?" he asked gesturing to your surroundings to explain location.

"My boyfriend and I are taking a trip with some friends," you briefed attempting to not reveal too much.

"Oh, so that's your boyfriend we saw?" Rook gasped in a sarcastic manner. "That's her boyfriend we saw," he repeated nudging Slim and then over to the bar.

"How long have you guys been together?" Slim asked trying his best to ignore the drummer and not laugh.

"Wait, what the hell is your problem?" you snapped at Rook only causing him to burst into a fit of laughter and walk away from the conversation. You rolled your eyes knowing he was anxious about something and turned to Slim for answer.

"Listen, so we saw you and Brandon walking around and we thought we were tripping because we haven't seen you in-"

"Wait, how do you know his name?" you asked with a confused look. You couldn't take your mind to figure out where they were going with this.

"You'll figure out, just give me a minute. Like I was saying, we were trippin and Kells was damn near ready to chase you down and before he could you guys were off somewhere. So we said, in regular fashion, lets go to the bar," he explained.

"Shhh, listen to this," Rook interrupted handing you his phone.

"What is it?" you asked once seeing it was a video of him with a Snapchat filter. “Why?”

"You’re still our kiddo and we are gonna look out for you no matter what," Slim said before turning away from you and rubbing his face and neck.

“Whether we talk anymore or not,” Rook added.

You turned the volume up and hit play on the video. It started off with Rook making a dumb face with the filter with chatter in the background.

"Dude, there's some hot chick over there here for a girl weekend. I think I am gonna try and smash for sure," Brandon said.

"Brandon, didn't you bring Y/N?" his friend responded.

In the video, you saw Rooks expression change. His eyes went wide and he glanced around him hoping he wasn't the only one hearing what he just did.

"I've spent so much time with her so she won't suspect anything if I say I'm hanging out with my boys, right?" he laughed.

"After that video, Rook threw his phone at us and walked out of the place," Slim said still rubbing his neck nervously due to how you could respond to this news.

"If I didn't, I was going to start a fight," Rook admitted. "And you don't like us fighting," he added with a laugh because it was true. You would always tell them not to fight because they were always ready if something went down.

"What the fuck?" you whispered handing Rook his phone and bringing your hands to cover your face, to cover the tears, embarrassment, it all. It was bad enough you trusted someone who was ready to turn on you so fast but the fact that you had to find out from old friends and friends of an ex at that was the icing on the cake.

"I know. C'mere," Rook whispered pulling you into him. He held you for a few minutes while you cried. "I'm still hyped up to deck him just say the word."

"I appreciate it," you tried to laugh knowing crying and moping will get you nowhere, it never did. You pulled away from him and wiped the tears from your cheeks. "Wow," you laughed trying to grasp the familiar event.

"I have some news that might cheer you up,” Slim smiled rubbing your back.

“Yeah? Hit me,” you said still trying to calm yourself down.

“Kells never cheated on you that night. She wanted a picture with him and he was telling her something but you can't really hear over the club music. We could all see by the pictures that were released how it may have looked entirely different.”

"You've got to be kidding me," you screamed throwing your hands up and letting your emotions regain your body’s control. The sudden change in volume caused both men to jump a bit and weird looks to be thrown your way by other beach goers. "You're telling me, I let myself walk out on one of the best relationships I've had because I'm a closed minded bitch?" you yelled laughing and pacing in a small circle. You probably looked as if you escaped from the mental institute but you honestly didn't care.

"Don't trip, he hasn't stopped talking about getting you back the second he sees you in person so," Rook laughed shaking his head.

"Do the house a favor though and just talk to him because he hasn't shut up about you in 9 months," Slim added with a laugh himself.

"What do I have to lose?" you shrugged as tears rolled down your face again. You gave in so easily to their request because in all honesty you had nothing to lose. You also trusted the guys with anything and everything. They could tell you the sky was a deep shade of maroon and you'd believe them. If they thought talking to Colson was going to fix something you were okay with it.

“Why didn't you do that earlier, you know, talk to him?” Rook questioned.

“I let my emotions run the game, I let Daniel and Chris talk me into cutting him out, I don't know,” you sighed.

“Those two are crazy,” Rook chuckled shaking his head. He had only met them a few times but he knew, just as well as you did, how crazy their actions and advice could be.

"Um, I don't think we need that punch either Rook," Slim mumbled gesturing to a screaming Colson and Baze walking away from the bar.

"Talk to him," Rook whispered pointing at Colson. Him and Slim turned and began walking to Baze and the heated rapper leaving you near the edge of the water.

You watched as Baze explained something to the other two while Colson avoided the conversation by looking away, back towards the bar. During the conversation, you noticed gestures to you but nobody said anything to you directly.

"GO TALK TO HER," Rook screamed at Colson. You couldn't help but laugh. You knew he had said it a thousand times and figured it was time to crank up the volume. He looked like a mom snapping at her kid.

Sure enough, it worked. Colson turned from the group and began to walk to where you were standing. As he made his way over, he kept his head low watching his feet push through the sand. When he finally looked up at you you felt your whole world stopped. His eyes were already red and puffy as if they were holding back tears and he was chewing on his lip.

"I'm sorry?" he choked out as more of a question.

"I'm sorry, I should've talked to you before I assumed that you would cheat on me and I messed up something so good," you rambled. He shook his head at you as if you didn't have anything to apologize about.

"I should've went after you. I shouldn't have gotten that close with her to make it look like that in pictures. I'm sorry I left doubt in your mind that I loved you." He let the tears roll down his face as he spoke. "What am I- I still love you. I never stopped and you can ask any of those guys back there. I haven't stopped talking about you in 9 months. I always said the next time I saw you it was for a reason and I'd get my baby back.” He paused to catch his breath. By now, you both were heavily crying. You were almost certain he had moved on and wanted nothing to do with you. “When I saw you with that idiot, I don't even know what I was thinking. I was ready to run after you. It hurt to see you with another guy, even if it was just walking," he said as if it didn't even make sense to him. "When Rook showed me that video, I was livid. After they left to find you, he said some more out of pocket shit and you know I said something. I couldn't just sit there and let him run his mouth. He's a dick too, what the fuck were you thinking?" he laughed at the last part causing you to laugh through your heavy crying.

"I don't even-," you choked out a half coherent thought causing him to laugh.

"I knew I fucked up when Baze said you picked up your stuff. I knew that you weren’t going to be easy to get ahold of but I knew you also needed time. I knew I had to get you back when I had to explain to my daughter how you wouldn't be around for the holidays. It felt wrong to have you missing. I want you back, so bad. I don't care if it's not right now. I just need to know we can still make us work," he whispered. His blue eyes met yours and you knew this whole situation was your second chance.

"I would be absolutely insane to let you go again," you admitted to him. His nerves visibly went away and were replaced with a mood lifting grin. He took a step towards you and engulfed you in a hug. One of the hugs that lift you off the ground forcing you to wrap your legs around his torso. You heard cheering from the three guy a distance away knowing they were happy to have everything back to where he was happy.

"I love you, I'm so sorry," you cooed placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you more. If anyone asks, I didn't punch what's his face," he laughed.

"Colson Baker, I swear," you scolded.

"HI BRAD," Rook screamed flailing his arms. He was waving toward a bruised and bloody Brandon walking out of the bar. You couldn't contain your laughter at what you were watching.

"What?" Colson asked still holding you up. You started laughing even more when he asked

"You actually went off on him and Rook just yelled the wrong name," you explained through giggles.

July 3

You clasped your earring in your ear just as the doorbell rang. You rushed over to it, slipping down your dress in the process. You weren't expecting anyone over since you were getting ready to leave for work. You glanced out the peephole to see an all too familiar face.

“What are you doing?” you beamed at Colson on the other side of the door as you opened it.

“I wanted to see if you were busy,” he smiled admiring you. You missed his eyes on you when you were apart. There was something about him looking at you that made you confident in your skin.

“I have work today.” You made a pouty face that matched his less happy expression.

“What about after work?” he offered raising his eyebrows. He was hopeful you’d be staying in with no plans. His intentions were written clear across his face.

“I might have an opening,” you whispered shyly. It felt like you and Colson had never been together. The surprise visits, innocent flirting, not so innocent flirting, cheeky gifts, everything from when you first were talking and dating were becoming the new norm.

“Can I drop you at work and pick you up then?” he asked leaning against the wall outside.

“I mean,” you dragged on to add a little suspense but he saw right through it.

“C’mon you dork,” he said laughing walking to his car leaving you to grab your things and follow after him.

“Hey, how’d you remember my address?” you asked catching up with him at his car.

“Because I never forget where my queen’s tower is,” he cheesed opening the car door for you.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker imagine #mgk imagine #mgk x reader #mgk #machine gun kelly imagine #colson baker #colson baker x reader

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rvwchck · 3 years

Text

tweet at first sight

It was one tweet. Not even all 280 characters. Just the simple phrase “I feel like @jamiethebee would be down to egg a house for his fans. just saying”.

I didn’t have more than 500 followers on Twitter, and those included only people from my school. It wasn’t even a fan account, nor was it even remotely related with Jamie Lee Oliver.

So naturally, when I saw his username in my DMs, my stomach almost fell out of my ass. Keyword being almost.

I screamed, and I did it loud. Thankfully, I was alone in my apartment, because having my roommate witness my prepubescent stunt would have been enough for me to move out. Which sounds serious when it comes from a college graduate living in Southern California.

8:06 AM

@jamiethebee: pick your poison.

tap to download attachment.

He had sent me a picture from the egg section in what appeared to be Walmart. I decided it was better not to answer, considering I was late for what seemed to be the millionth job interview of the week. Nobody said life after graduation would be so hard. Especially after enduring the hell that is living in a dorm the size of a shoebox.

Looking at my appearance in the mirror confirmed that I would not, in fact, get hired today. It may have to do with the fact that between my now coffee-stained shirt and red pants along with my rusty red hair made me look like a war zone. Or a used tampon. Or both.

Clearly L’Oreal Colorista was not the best hair dye in the market.

I glanced down at my phone, partly wondering if I had any new texts from Leo—or as I liked to call him after that cheating incident, Satan—and partly to see if any other celebrities had graced my inbox. None of those scenarios had happened, and I was now 10 minutes late.

Just when I was rushing out of the door, my roommate opened the door with a slam and proceeded to face plant onto the couch.

Well, I thought, at least I’m not in med school.

***

I somehow managed to miss the train and the bus. All in a 15 minute span. Which meant I was 25 minutes late for the interview. It would be a miracle if I even got to announce my name, or hand in my resume.

My hair was completely disheveled and one of my shoes had come off in the middle of the street, meaning my pizza socks were on full display once I arrived to the building of Pyramid Publishing. The receptionist directed me to the 16th floor, where everything was white, or really pale beige.

I sat on one of the couches ,well, rested my back for half a second before I was interrupted.

“Lisa Martin? Sorry for the long wait, we had some issues with the air conditioning” A tall secretary poked her head from one of the offices in the waiting area.

I was not a true believer, but God had just done me a solid.

11:30 AM

@jamiethebee: so you discover a

dark truth about me and then you

leave me on read?

@jamiethebee: wow, RUDE.

I hid my phone in my purse, my heart beating at an alarming rate against my chest. I was still having a hard time believing the Jamie Lee Oliver had slid into my DMs and went to the produce section of the grocery store for me. The fact that he had the audacity to call me out was also making my brain go haywire trying to come up with a decent answer.

All while struggling to pay attention to the code of ethics of the company. Because yes, I had just gotten hired to be an editor for Pyramid Publishing.

“The idea Miss Martin, is for you to have a week to get to know the office and the way things work around here before you fully immerse in what is a typical schedule of an editor in Pyramid Publishing” The man, Gregory Truman, had a smooth voice and gave off an aura of authority, partly because of the way he was seated, and partly because his secretary seemed to be in awe every time he opened his mouth to speak.

I nodded along completely distracted, smiling every once in a while to show that I was happy for the opportunity I had just been given. After four years of majoring in English and getting tired of hearing that it would be impossible to find any job, I had just landed the job of my dreams. Which sounds amazing, but it really consists of earning enough to cover my part of the rent and to afford one or two nights out every once in a while.

After agreeing to come back tomorrow morning to start my briefings, I left the building and headed for the bus station. I was about to acknowledge my Twitter notifications, which seemed to be glaring at me, when my roommate called.

To any person this would come across as normal behaviour, however when you live with a med school student who lives and breathes for their career, you get used to not hearing from them for days at a time. No news, good news right?.

“What’s up buttercup?” I answered cheerfully nonetheless. Amanda tends to be overly dramatic and extremely analytic of phone and text conversations. She has flipped out on me for answering the phone with a simple ‘hey’, claiming that she thought I was mad at her and didn’t want to live with her anymore because she forgets to hang her towels. Her words, not mine.

“Yeah, yeah, no time for greetings. Listen the curry exploded all over the kitchen” I was once again, rendered speechless.

Amanda comes from an Indian family that loves to travel and above all, loves to eat. Her recipe book is overflowing and constantly getting thicker. However, her skills are not getting any better. Last week she managed to turn the butter on fire while attempting to melt it in the microwave. Who knows how she managed to do that.

“Okay so there’s no need for me to buy more oils for the diffuser, is that what you’re saying?” I would have worried if it was another person, but Amanda tends to worry a little too much over everything and I don’t want her to beat herself up anymore over this.

“No Lisa I’m serious like I don’t even know where to start cleaning and I’ve probably ruined the kitchen and we won’t be able to repare it and I just know that you’ll want to move out because of this and—“

“Okay this is what you’ll do. You’re going to go to the wine cabinet and open a bottle of rose, you know the one you like, and you’re going to calm down and then start cleaning. First the floor so you don’t keep making a bigger mess, then the counters and so on. Mandy, seriously its not the end of the world, did you at least get to have lunch?” I heard a grunt, then a sigh. Not good.

“Obviously not Lisa, I’m on call tonight apparently. I don’t even understand what they want me there for since I just worked the morning shift two days in a row and I’m not even a real doctor yet. Like what the fuck? This is abuse”

“Okay babe, see you at home!” I hung up with a smile on my face, determined to make something out of today other than cleaning curry with Amanda. So I opened Twitter.

12:21 PM

@misalartin: pity, i only shop organic.

@misalartin: excessive hormones,

you know?

Not even thirty minutes had passed when he replied.

12:43 PM

@jamiethebee: so tell me when

and where.

tap to download attachment.

It was then I realized I had not stopped internally screaming since 8 am, because it was the only way to explain how I had not fainted yet.

Jamie Lee Oliver had been my celebrity crush ever since I knew how to turn the tv on. He had started out as a child star in my favorite tv show Morgan’s Backyard, and then had gotten into more serious stuff like action movies, playing superheroes and whatnot. Once I grew out of children’s tv, I stopped following him as an actor although his Instagram and Twitter were a true gift for my feed. He was beautiful, with dark brown hair and equally dark skin that made his pearly smile stand out beyond anything else. His chocolate eyes blended perfectly well with the rest of his complexion, which made him seem really inviting in the way his eyes disappeared almost completely when he smiled, almost like he wanted everyone to have fun along with him.

Doubt started to creep in and was slowly consuming me. I knew exactly what I had tweeted, but it was exactly that, just a tweet. I never imagined he would even see it, much less acknowledge it. Besides, I didn’t know if it was the smartest idea. I mean Leo had cheated on me, and in my old apartment when I was supposed to be in one of my classes. So I got home early because I was in the mood to skip and that’s when I found him. On my bed, on top of a freshman rushing for the sorority I belonged to. Even in that moment, I was not a confrontational person and I absolutely hated violence. But he had also shattered my trust completely and disregarded our relationship.

In hopes of being more proactive and doing the right thing, I replied.

12:48 PM

@misalartin: alright, BJ’s

in Forest ave

@misalartin: say 6?

12:49 PM

@jamiethebee: it’s a date then.

***

My hair was resembling a mood stone. In weak attempts of making my hair even, it had turned a beautiful brick orange. Adding the smell that undoubtedly clung to my clothes, I was now the personification of a plate of curry.

All of that didn’t matter once I got to BJ’s and saw a tall figure leaning on one of the walls outside. He had disguised himself extremely well, with a black hat that cast a big enough shadow to hide his face. Which I was thankful for, because the clothes he was wearing would not help him blend into the crowd. With a pair of checkered pants and a teal coloured shirt which made it clear he had missed the class on “How to dress up for a spy mission™”.

Taking a deep breath to calm myself down, I forced my feet to move towards him.

“Well one of us clearly misunderstood the mission” I said jokingly when I reached him.

He looked up from his phone and I managed to keep my cool. Not because I could, but because the sun was glaring right on my face, which made it impossible for me to see practically anything. My knees almost gave away when I covered the sun with my hand. It took every ounce of willpower for me not to jump and squeal like a crazy 12 year old girl, he was really here in front of me looking all perfect and ready for a fashion show. Contrary to myself, which looked ready to sleep in a homeless shelter. My black sweatpants and hoodie clashed completely with him and you could immediately tell we were opposites when it came to the lives we had.

“Lisa, right?” Jamie’s voice was deep and almost a whisper, which made a chill run through my body like electricity. It made me want to hear him speak forever, not caring about the topic he chose.

“Yeah. Um, do you really want to do the egg thing?” I couldn’t stop the words from escaping my mouth once I saw he had not one, but two boxes of 12 eggs.

His laugh was like a song that I wanted to listen to in replay non stop until I couldn’t stand it. And then he did the unimaginable, he pouted.

“What, chickening out already?” I smiled in embarrassment and looked down at my feet to hide my blush.

“Weren’t you taught that violence is not the answer?” I questioned him and his smile only seemed to grow bigger. Which was nice, but also worrying since it meant I was losing my moral battle.

“It’s not like we’re throwing eggs at someone, right? It’s just a house. Nothing a good cleaning can’t fix” He took off his hat to ruffle his hair before leaning down to whisper in my ear “Besides, who knows what else can happen” Jamie leaned against the wall again with a smirk, knowing perfectly well the effect he was having on me.

“Alright, you had me at eggs” I smiled sheepishly and then dragged him along to the bus stop. We kept talking, asking each other questions and trying to disguise our flirting behind lame excuses to get to know each other better.

He lowered his hat even more once we got on the bus and kept his hand on the small of my back in order not to lose me in the mess of people. It felt natural, like it wasn’t the first time we met and his hand was used to touching me all the time.

“So how come you talked to me?” I asked curiously, turning my body towards him. The bus lurched into a sudden stop, which caused me to stumble forward. Jamie caught me quickly, securing both arms around my waist and crushing me against him, since he was leaning on one of the walls. Thankfully, the eggs stayed safe beside him.

“Well the offer was more tempting than the usual ‘Jamie I love you please marry me’ kind of thing” He rubbed my arms and held eye contact with me the whole time and I was in heaven.

“Naturally, who doesn’t want to egg houses instead?” I quipped with an eyebrow raised and he laughed under his breath, like he didn’t want people in on our conversation.

“If egging houses is what I have to do to spend time with a pretty girl, then I’ll choose it over marriage any day” I was not one to fall for the usual lines, yet here I was struggling to reply without him finding out that I was very close to calling the whole thing off and take him to my apartment instead.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I glanced outside and pressed the buzzer to get off. Jamie followed me walking along the sidewalk but this time, in silence. I walked these streets like I never stopped, being grateful I chose to move out of my apartment after everything that happened.

I stopped when I recognized the familiar stones that led to his porch. It felt like I was living my worse nightmare. The maroon mailbox contrasting with the blue porch but clashing with the shiny Audi parked in the outer garage.

Suddenly, it didn’t seem like the best idea. I had to leave. Best case scenario: Leo found out but didn’t press charges. Worst case scenario: Jamie and me end up in a jail cell. Neither situation seemed appealing to me. Especially since they both involved talking to him. I wasn’t the best at concealing my anger. And I had a lot to conceal.

I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt Jamie’s warm hands wiping my cheeks. He crushed me to his chest as if we’d done this a million times, and I took a deep breath to calm myself down. The tears had stopped, yet he kept running his hand through my hair and rocking us softly.

He stepped back only to lean down and open the first dozen eggs. He placed one in my hand and then looked at the Audi in front of him.

“Do you think it has an alarm system?” He voiced my question out loud.

“I really hope not” And then I threw the first egg.

***

Either Leo didn’t care about his Audi becoming an omelet, or he simply didn’t find out about it. I was over the top we were not stuck in a jail cell, and even more happy I had avoided confrontation.

We were walking in silence again, the weight of reality on our shoulders. Now that we had pelted an entire car with eggs, there was nothing left to do with each other. It was no secret that he had to go back to Los Angeles and I had a curry explosion to take care of, yet I was finding it hard to see how our paths could cross again.

“I smell curry. Can we extend our date to more than just damaging private property?” Jamie stopped to look at me properly for the millionth time and once again, my knees threatened to give away. God his eye contact was going to kill me.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him how I was the source of the smell, so I nodded and let him lead the way this time.

One thing I had found out about Jamie Lee Oliver, he was not the best with directions. We walked around the same block four times before I got tired and yanked his phone from his hands.

“Just tell me where you want to go” I sighed exasperatedly and he chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Take me to the best burger place you know” And with that, he wrapped his arm around my waist and kept walking naturally, like he hadn’t just caused my heart to perform a drum solo in my chest.

It was a long walk, especially since I was hell-bent on getting away from my exs’ neighbourhood as quickly as possible. Jamie didn’t seem to mind the distance, so I kept my mouth shut.

“So Lisa” He spoke my name like it was foreign on his mouth, yet he treated me like I was anything but “Tell me something about yourself, something you haven’t told anyone” The words he spoke made me want to cringe, yet his tone was so inviting, it was impossible to refuse.

“Well” I hesitated, there could have been a million things to say that would have made me look better or more attractive. Instead, I chose “I’m the reason you smelled curry” Jamie tried to mask his surprise as best as he could, yet it was clear this was not what he had imagined I would say.

So naturally, I continued “My roommate managed to cause a curry explosion in our kitchen and when I came home from my interview I had barely any time to get ready before I met you and I clearly didn’t think things through because if I did, then I wouldn’t have showered. Which sounds disgusting but it would’ve made the smell less apparent and my hair a little less similar to a burning building. Also I tried to dress for the occasion but actually made an effort to look presentable, but clearly I didn’t do—

His lips were what interrupted me. One second I was boring his ears off with my rambling, the next Jamie Lee Oliver was kissing me. It was like no other kiss I’d had, he towered over me but not in an awkward way and his hands seemed to touch me in the right places at the perfect time. He was rumoured to date many girls and I understood why, he felt as comfortable kissing me as he looked when he was acting on camera. Reality caught up with me and made me lose focus, so Jamie pulled me closer to him by the waist.

After what seemed like ages, he pressed his forehead against mine and pecked me a few times on the lips then closed his eyes and stayed silent for a few seconds, just holding me close to him. My eyes darted all over his face, trying to find something appropriate to say, yet words failed me.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have done that, but I’ve been meaning to since I saw you crossing the street to meet me”

Looking back, if I had to pinpoint the moment things changed for the both of us, I would say it was this one. Because this, was when I threw caution to the wind. It was like I couldn’t get enough of him. So I kissed him this time.

Laughing against my lips he pecked me once, twice. Then held my hand and continued walking in the direction of the restaurant.

***

I was a blushing mess the remaining walk to the restaurant. Even when we asked for a table for two, I couldn’t keep it together. In fact, I felt my face grow even hotter, if it was even possible.

“That blush is fucking adorable” Jamie whispered in my ear and his hand crept lower, which did not help at all with my blushing.

The waitress raised her eyebrows at Jamie’s blunt movement but led us to a table in the far corner of the room.

“I don’t do this often, not with many girls” He blurted suddenly, still looking down at the menu. I’d decided to order the french burger and was waiting expectantly for him to decide, yet this had caught me completely by surprise. His warm eyes met mine in a piercing gaze “I don’t want anything serious either”

“I just egged my exe’s Audi, I can barely stomach a burger let alone a serious relationship” I blurted honestly and he grinned. I had just found my way into Jamie’s heart.

He grabbed my hand while he ordered for the both of us and when he ordered a taxi to take us back to my place. He continued to hold it while we kissed in the elevator, and when we continued to do so everywhere in my apartment.

Jamie Lee Oliver held my hand the way he held my heart, and I don’t remember him ever letting go.

#writing #short fiction #short snippet #story #romance #new adult #mmusings #rvwchck

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joonsrack · 4 years

Text

+Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Kim Namjoon

+Genre: One shot, college au, fluff, kind of established relationship but not.

+10-31, nonhyeon dong series: Part I | Part II | Part III

+Word count: 8.3k

+Summary:

"Hyung...you- you two kissed?" Seokjin freezes for a half a second, then rolls his eyes nonchalantly, going back to his task. "Yes, it was part of the plan, remember?" He feels the room fall silent around him. "What?" He asks and catches Namjoon’s expression that's getting redder by the seconds from where he's looking past Taehyung's shoulder to the phone in his dongsaeng's hands. "What?" He tries again. "We talked about a peck... This-..." He says gleefully, turning the phone towards Seokjin who squints to make senses of what's inside the small screen. "This is not. A peck"

+Warnings: SFW, Stalker (not between the same pairing), bad dad jokes & sarcasm.

A/N: Apology to VIXX fans, i didn’t know who they were back then and just picked a random celebrity name. Lee Jaehwan just happened to be there, i don’t hate him or anything.

Kim Namjoon 21h 43:

whrr thr f ar u

Kim Seokjin 21h 43:

I forgot to feed the cat.

Kim Namjoon 21h 43:

ur almoat ahour lte .

ANd we dnt hava catr .

Kim Seokjin 21h47:

You’re the person with the highest IQ I know, yet it takes a PhD to make sense of your text, honestly.

Kim Namjoon 21h 53:

(...)

You've been shining by your absence for almost a hour now , your club members have been throwing me weird looks for the most part of it because they do not know my business here .

Also , ywe do not own a cat.

Kim Seokjin 21h 54:

No need to get your underpants in a twist, Shakespeare. Just make it readable .

Kim Namjoon 21h 54:

Y ou're late . Your club members are w e i r d.

Kim Seokjin 21h 55:

Tell me something i don't know.

Kim Namjoon 21h 59:

It would take 10,000 helium balloons to make your ass fly over here.

Hurry . the fuck. up .

Kim Seokjin 22h 03:

Roger that .

Hey you want to hear a joke about helium ?

Kim Namjoon 22h 04:

Hyung.

No.

Kim Seokjin 22h 04:

Almost.

The correct answer is Na, though .

Kim Namjoon 22h 04:

hyuNG .

******

‘Best friends’ is what most people would use. Sometimes, there's the odd ball that calls them soulmates.

Honestly, Seokjin thinks neither apply.

The rest of their misfit roommates calls them oemma and appa. They also talk about their wedding as if it already happened. As a joke, of course.

Because they're not married.

He thinks to himself, as Namjoon spends most of the night with his arm wrapped around his waist. For his defense, they're acting like a couple to discourage a creep from Seokjin's club that's been becoming increasingly annoying in the last few weeks; Seokjin is never having drunk sex with kind-of-friends again, however horny he might get. Nothing good ever comes out of it, and now he's gotten himself the worst kind of STD: a stalker.

It only took a passing mention during their weekly TV Thursday night for their roommates to plan out a way to get Seokjin out of his awkward situation.

(It got past awkward territory when he asked you for the fifth time if you were sure you didn't want to go on a date with him Friday night, Yoongi said.

He might have been right.)

The solution they came up with then is to pretend Seokjin’s eternal Uni celibacy is a thing of the past, Namjoon being the logical choice as a fake boyfriend since the whole University already think they are dating.

Namjoon is also the logical choice since their noisy friends seem hellbent on having them married with five kids ever since Jungkook and Taehyung put their big boys pants on (or off) and confessed to each other. Now it's like it's their four friends goal to get Namjoon and Seokjin together next (Yoongi probably doesn't give a shit about anything else other than his music and Jimin's ass, so Seokjin isn't counting him in).

So yeah, Seokjin wouldn't exactly use the term best friend or soulmates to describe his relationship with the younger man. More something in the line of puzzle pieces; they're different yet they fit.

It's chance that brought them together (or more commonly named: being bad dancers). The only thing they had in common back then had been overbearing mothers; one who wanted her son to gain control over his limbs and stop breaking everything, and the other having high expectations for her son's handsome face. Being the worst of their hip hop dance class, they bonded over always being put in the back during choreography.

They don't take dance classes anymore, but 10 years down the line and Seokjin couldn't see his life without Kim Namjoon's face in it.

Living together for university had been only natural, and along came the five other weirdos.

They drew the line at sharing the same room to have a break of each other's face from time to time. But if it comes down to it, Namjoon is probably the only person, other than his parents, who knows almost everything about him.

(More than his parents, actually.)

So, kissing him to make their act all the more believable doesn't feel as weird as he thinks it should.

Awkward, maybe, but not weird. He spent the best of the last few years trying (and failing) to avoid looking at Namjoon's pout, so it's safe to say he's already familiarized with it; well before Namjoon chuckles awkwardly and goes in for a peck under the gleeful look of his club members. He's pretty sure bet had been going on about them.

Of course, the only one who doesn't think so is Lee Jaehwan, stalker extraordinary.

No, he seems extremely surprised by this turn of event, and has the audacity to look affronted. He doesn't budge though, just press his lips together and raises an eyebrow, as if to say: you're not fooling anyone.

Of course it wouldn't be that easy, Seokjin thinks, irritated.

"Come on boys, we're all adults here, we're over the peck-on-cheek stage" someone throws from the back. Once Seokjin finds out who, he's cancelled.

It's too late though, and their club members are calling obnoxiously for an encore. The rest of the patrons at the bar are looking at them like the bunch of annoying kids they are, bringing a faint blush of embarrassment to his cheeks. Seokjin smiles nervously, his excuse all set and ready to go; but it gets lost in Namjoon's mouth.

There's a hand on his neck keeping him in place, but it's not strong enough that he couldn't push it away, if he wanted. Namjoon is just that considerate.

It takes him a moment to remember he can (and should) breath through his nose.

He has a split second of clarity to thanks god Taehyung and Jungkook couldn't make it to their club hangout tonight, before he wraps his arms around Namjoon's neck and sells his soul to the devil. He's already in love with the dude, what is it going to change to get a taste of him?

Once he relaxes into the kiss, it becomes all the more natural. Puzzle pieces, Seokjin's mind provides again. His mind has always been too noisy though, so he shuts it off. Namjoon kisses him like it's a challenge, and Seokjin knows he already lost. He lost well before their lips ever connected; he doesn't feel like a loser, though, once he realizes that he’s not the only one breathing hard.

Seconds becomes minute and his club members chants become catcalls, and when he opens his eyes again, disoriented but holding on to Namjoon's frame, he can see from the corner of his eyes Lee Jaehwan storming out of the bar.

"Mission accomplished" Namjoon whispers to him once Creepy McPants is out of sight.

He lets out a relieved sigh and sags a little in Namjoon's embrace. His dongsaeng passes a reassuring hand down his back, knowing him too well. Anybody else and Seokjin would be putting on an indifferent front, but it's Kim Namjoon standing before him.

"Since we're here, might as well drink something? I think I need to relax a little." He says and tries to meet Namjoon’s eyes but the younger man seems to be looking at everything but him.

"Sure" Namjoon shrugs, "I'll go get us something, just to escape from their crazed looks for a few."

"You snatched the prettiest one around, of course they'll be noisy about it, it's the drama club." Seokjin says, playing up the arrogant attitude to try and get rid of the awkwardness surrounding them.

"You're so modest"

"Tell me something I don't know"

Namjoon looks pensive for a second, and Seokjin can only regret his comeback before his dongsaeng speaks again.

"We just shared 80 million bacteria" He answers, their eyes finally meeting.

Seokjin signs heavily, looking unimpressed with his friend. Of course, he's going to act as if they just didn't share some life changing kiss that's going to make it 300% harder for Seokjin to get over his infatuation.

That thing he did with his tongue?

He's ruined.

"You're not the only that can be a smart ass, Hyung." Namjoon shrugs again, then goes toward the general direction of the bar, probably to get him his favorite drink.

Because there's no reason why Namjoon wouldn't know Seokjin's favorite drink, is there?

******

"So how did your date go, hyung?" Jimin asks from where he's perched over the kitchen counter, licking a spatula full of what looks like thick white cream.

Yoongi standing frozen over the remains of a broken cup makes a lot more sense now.

Hoseok is whipping up cake batters for who knows what reason, and Jungkook and Taehyung are doing their weird foreplay rituals that includes playing violent video games and telling each other to eat shit.

Youngsters these days have weird ways to set the mood.

"Namjin 1; Jaehwan 0" He answers with no inflection. He just can't wait to be alone in his room to analyze every tiny detail of his new-found knowledge; Kim Namjoon aka Professional Mouth Licker.

"He looked pretty pissed though, when he stormed out" Namjoon says with a worried crease forming between his brows "You should probably be careful for the next few weeks... Try to avoid being alone with him".

"It's not like I have much control over that, we're in the same club, we're in the same play. He might have a pretty minor role put the mailman is a key character"

"Don't worry Hyung," Taehyung says from where his head is now pillowed on Jungkook's thighs. They've stopped playing to listen in, apparently. "We'll keep an eye on him. With Jungkook's muscles and my..." He looks down at his own body, frowning. "I won't be much help but Jungkook's muscles will do, I guess."

"But you do have muscles, hyungie" Jungkook says, trying to subtly shove a hand under Taehyung's T-shirt. 'Trying' being the key word here.

"Oh for fuck sake" Jimin says, fake gagging. "We should never have helped them get their shit together. I'll regret it eternally."

"Yah, when have you ever helped them," Yoongi squints. "You only wanted first row to the drama."

Jimin doesn't even bother looking affronted, sauntering off the counter with a smirk.

"You gotta admit Hyung, the tea was pretty good."

Taehyung and Jungkook get-together-story kind of became this year's running gag, generating hours of teasing and laughing from the rest of their hyungs. But they took their revenge by becoming gross. Grosser than when they were simply crushing on each other, as if that was possible.

Which is why Seokjin knows it's Taehyung's phone that starts making a racket as he pours himself and Namjoon a glass of water, since his different notifications sounds are recordings of Jungkook's various weird laughs.

(Once, Taehyung "forgot" his phone in his room, and he spent the whole night waking up to the Maknae's evil laughter. Seokjin still believe the phone had been purposely hidden there. Revenge had been written all over Taehyung's face when he came to collect his phone the next morning.)

But now he's so used to it that he barely reacts, until a loud gasp from behind startles him.

"Hyung...you- you two kissed?"

Seokjin freezes, then rolls his eyes nonchalantly, going back to his task. "Yes, it was part of the plan, remember?"

He feels the room fall silent around him.

"What?" He asks and catches Namjoon’s expression that's getting redder by the seconds from where he's looking past Taehyung's shoulder to the phone in his dongsaeng's hands.

"What?" He tries again.

"We talked about a peck... This-..." He says gleefully, turning the phone towards Seokjin who squints to make senses of what's inside the small screen. "This is not. A peck"

It's a little blurry, but you can clearly see Namjoon's tongue shoved down his throat.

Seokjin takes a deep breath, brain going a mile a minute to come up with a good excuse.

He can feel five hungry stares looking their way, and he's coming up blank; all he can focus on is the thought of his bed calling on to him.

He does the most sensible thing; grabs Namjoon's hand before anyone can react and runs for it.

"I'm sorry hyung, I wanted to help you out, but now we will never live this down." Namjoon whines from between his hands covering his red face, once they are safely hidden away in Seokjin and Yoongi's room.

"Tell me something I don't know"

Namjoon goes to open his mouth despite his embarrassment, but this time Seokjin is faster.

"Don't.”

He can hear giggle from the other side of the door that he gratefully locked, thanking god for Min Yoongi and his appreciation of social interactions.

"You can't hide forever hyungie~" Jimin muffled voice calls out sweetly.

"Yes we can~" He answers, matching in sweetness.

"No you can't, not in my room."

"Shut up Yoongiyah, you go sleep in Namjoon's bed for the night." he says, since being the oldest has advantages. "Or better yet, I'm sure Jimin has some space to spare for your skinny ass." he adds as an afterthought.

There's a few choice words thrown his way, until he can hear Hoseok tell Yoongi to shut the fuck up and sacrifice his room to blossoming love.

A disgruntled sigh is all he needs to hear to know they won't be disturbed for the reminder of the night.

*****

The signs that escape his mouth is enough to shake mountains, but not Min Yoongi.

No, Yoongi ignores his arrival, still a little bit mad for having been locked out of his room couple days ago. Jimin is there as well, lazing on his hyung's bed with a pair of earbuds cutting him off from the world. Seokjin's catches a few seconds of what seems to be some studio dance practice.

He sighs again, this time his whole body melting into his bed.

"What." Yoongi's snaps. Because no matter how hard he tries, he'll never be able to hide the fact that he cares.

"Lee Jaehwan has yet to give up, it seems."

It doesn't take half a second before Namjoon's head pops into the room.

"I knew he'd be hard to shake off" he muses out loud, cocking a hip against the door frame

"If you two keep acting like a couple he'll get over it some days" Yoongi says, not stopping the rotation of his chair. It's making Seokjin dizzy.

"What acting?" Jimin adds from his spot, one of his earbud now dangling.

Ignoring his comment, Namjoon's takes place on the space left on the bed and puts a reassuring hand on the small of his back.

"My point" Jimin mutters again, but a pillow is thrown into his face.

"What happened?", Namjoon asks, and Seokjin groans once again.

"Nothing too dramatic... he asked me if I was serious about you and he got all mad when I said yes. Then he was just there, in the background. I could feel his wrath, literally. He made everyone tiptoe around him."

"He acted like a dickwad" Jungkook adds from the door frame, balancing Taehyung on his back. "The biggest dickwad around"

"Not to me" Taehyung says, and the room focus on him.

"He acted overly sweet and asked If I knew of anyone planning to move out of the apartment. And how much the rent was."

A grim silence fills the room, even Yoongi stops spinning.

"For fuck sake" Seokjin whines.

"Of course, I told him no one was leaving and he couldn't afford the rent. Then he acted like the biggest dickwad towards me as well."

"Well this Lee Jaehwan problem will not go away as easily as we thought" Jimin says, all business like.

Namjoon's chin is starting to protrude; he's getting serious.

The front doors screeches, and Hoseok erupts from the hallway a few seconds later, drenched in sweat, finding the six of them crammed into the medium sized room with a mix of worried and irritated expressions on.

"What'd I miss" he says, eyebrows joining his hairline, trying to squeeze past the two men combo blocking the door. "Why' we all crammed in here when the living room is perfectly sized to accommodate all of us?" He asks, but he joins Jimin on the bed anyways, to Yoongi's displeasure. They both ignores his protest as they get into a more comfortable position.

"The disrespect- I swear to god if my bed smells like sweat... How can you touch him right now Jiminie?"

"We're both dancers, we're used to it." Their matching indifferent look are enough to shut Yoongi up.

"What should we do next." Namjoon's puts the conversation back on track.

"Seokjin-hyung could act mean to him?" Jungkook proposes.

"Have you seen him? He doesn't know how to be mean. He's an eomma down to his soul"

"I can be mean," he defends himself against Jimin's jab, "I could tell him his... body proportions are bad?"

A groan spreads through the room. Even Hoseok who doesn't even know what they're talking about. He must be getting the idea, though.

"Tell him his acting sucks" Taehyung proposes. "Because it does. Then you're not being mean, you're telling the truth and saving him from a future of job rejections. It's a win-win.”

"We're not trying to destroy his self-esteem, just trying to make him see that Seokjin-hyung is not the one for him."

"Then tell him he doesn't fit your standards"

"I tried, but he laughed it off." He says, irritation permeating his words.

"It's like nobody here knows our university has campus security" Jimin sighs.

"Luckily for us or our precious Jungkookie would be in jail~" Hoseok singsongs.

The maknaes couple blush and escapes the room, Taehyung still perched on his boyfriend's back.

"They will never live this down" Yoongi's grins, then hits a couple of keys on his keyboards and jumps to his feet. "Alright, I'm gone"

"Hi gone, I'm Seokjin", he answers as an automatism, because he knows his classics. Dad jokes are life.

Yoongi stops in his track as a resounding groan crosses the room again, stares at him with the blankest look of disappointment possible, then leaves without saying anything else.

The sound of the door closing seems to startle Hoseok and Jimin into action as well.

"Didn't you say the studio was free today? I need you to look at a new movement I want to fit in for the next showcase."

"Sure, everything for my cute dongsaengie" Hoseok coos. Coos.

In a flurry of movement only flexible people can afford, they both leave the room with a goodbye thrown behind.

And they were two.

"Either my bad joke scared them away, or none of my dongsaengs care that I might be kidnapped and put into a cage only to be fed dry ass chicken by a creep that's counting on Stockholm syndrome to make me fall for him."

Namjoon scoffs but frowns again.

"You want to give a shot to extra PDA? I could come and fetch you after your club meetings? We could try walking together in the morning?"

“It’s not like we don’t already do that most of the time.” Seokjin sighs to the sudden quietness of the room. “But sure, ’cause I'm getting too old to put my back through the trauma of being restrained in a cage."

He pats the empty spot next to him and Namjoon takes the cue and lays down.

They wake up hours later disoriented and limbs tangled to the flash of a camera.

These damn youngsters, he swears silently.

*****

The next day, everybody seems to have a new lock screen.

Everybody but Yoongi of course, but Seokjin doesn't take it personally; Min Holly has been his phone screen ever since he had to leave his puppy with his parents while he was off to University.

And by the way he smirks at Seokjin first thing in the morning, he at least downloaded the picture into his phone.

It's a cute picture he has to admit, with him and Namjoon so entangled it's hard to tell which limbs belongs to who. He wishes he could find a way to subtly ask someone to send it to him. But that would be weird, right?

Right.

His paper on the influence of dramatics art on the development of kids is staring blankly back at him. He's supposed to hand it back in a few days but he can't bring himself to stay focused for two seconds, he's got too many things on his mind; like Namjoon's tongue down his throat or the borderline stalker walking towards him.

"Hey, Seokjinie!"

Lee Jaehwan is waving, and Seokjin debates acting like he didn't see or hear him, but being in the school library kind of makes it hard to play that card. Also the fact that they shared a nice and awkward eye contact.

"Jaehwan, hey" he answers, hoping his irritation isn't showing too much.

"You're working on the paper for Park Seonseangnim's class?"

"Yeah... Or I'm trying to. I'm having a hard time focusing here." Seokjin says with a small bite, hoping for the man to take the cue. Which he doesn't.

"Oh well, you want to take a coffee break? I'll buy.” he says, with a big smile full of teeth. Like a wolf in disguise. That wants to kidnap him.

And then put him in a cage and feed him dry chicken.

Seokjin closes the lid of his laptop just on the side of too hard. Here he was hoping to fit in a couple of lines, but that won't be possible now.

"Actually, I have to go, I'm meeting up with Namjoonie in a few."

"Right. Kim Namjoon. Your Boyfriend." He says with something close to disdain in his voice, the capital "B" clearly voluntary.

Seokjin starts gathering his things as Jaehwan carries on.

"You know it's funny because when I think about it just a few weeks ago you told you didn't want to date before finishing your degree."

He's still smiling and it's so fake, Seokjin can see right through. He can see the irritation and self-righteousness, and it's starting to get on his nerves.

"You're right, I remember thinking that. But I also remember being an adult who can take his own goddamn decision without anyone butting in, thank you very much."

He roughly shoves his books in his bag, struggling when the zipper gets stuck. Jaehwan takes the opportunity to grab him by the wrist and halt his movement, and it takes Seokjin everything to contains his rage at having this guy trying to invade his life.

"Wait, I didn't mean to make you mad. I'm just trying to figure out why you rejected me. You haven't even left me a chance. After that night you just acted as if nothing happened..."

"Honestly, I've told you in so many different ways that you don't interest me, if you still don't get it by now, then you're just plain stupid. I like them smart, so all the more reasons for me not to date you.” he hisses.

With that off his mind, he yanks his arm free and walks away. Some students stare as he storms out, but he's too irritated to feel bad for his loudness.

There's strange sense of satisfaction that comes with not acting nice. Is this how it feels to be mean?

******

That night when he gets home he starts whipping up a meal. It happens when he's stressed. Frying rice somehow helps him get his mind off things.

There's only three pair of shoes thrown hazardously by the door, but he always makes enough to have leftovers, so he cooks something for seven. By the time it's almost ready, Namjoon, Taehyung and Jimin come sniffing out of their room, drawn out by the smell of his kimchi fried rice.

Namjoon takes one look at him and at the meal he's cooking.

"Is something wrong, Hyung?"

Seokjin answers with a noncommittal sound and the subject is dropped, for now. Jimin takes the hint though and pops a chilled soju bottle and a couple of beer out of the refrigerator.

"Someak! Someak!" Taehyung exclaims, and gets the shot glass and beer glass from the cupboard.

They eat in relative quietness, talking in low voice of the highlights of their days and enjoying a few drinks. By 8pm, Jimin's and Taehyung's cheeks are reddish, and they laugh much too easily. Namjoon is telling them a story in a slower and deeper drawl than usual, and Seokjin is smiling at nothing. Or maybe he's smiling at Namjoon stupid handsome face, and low voice, and adorable dimples. Whatever.

Jimin and Taehyung offer themselves for the dishes, Namjoon having been banned from the task since the first few months of their cohabitation.

"You wanna watch something on my computer?" He offers Seokjin instead.

"What are my options?"

Namjoon thinks for a second, booting up his laptop.

"Are you feeling more something like Train to Busan or 100 days with Mr. Arrogant?"

"As much as I enjoy my fair share of teen classic, seeing zombies eating their way through humanity seems pretty ideal for my state of mind right now."

"Train to Busan it is." He says, and search through his files until he lets out a triumphant sound, the movie studio animation playing a few seconds later.

They settle more comfortably on Namjoon's bed, still a little buzzed from their drinks. The laptop is safely positioned on a nightstand, strategically moved to be the perfect TV stand.

He makes it through the first half relatively alert, but the screams of terror are lulling him to sleep, and he burrow a little deeper under the blanket. Namjoon throws a casual arm over him, like it's the most natural thing for them to cuddle. It probably is.

He doesn't know how he ends up the little spoon, but he's not going to complain; Namjoon's breath is ghosting over his neck, making goosebumps breaks out all over his skin.

It should probably make the whole experience uncomfortable, but it doesn't, truth to be told. This happened countless times over the last ten years, and it will probably happens again. They both know each other’s body by now, and he does know why he ended up the little spoon. He always is, probably because he ends up complaining whenever it's the other way around.

His lanky arms are just not made for Namjoon's head.

There's a finger rubbing circles into his skin, probably more unconsciously than anything else. The shape they're drawing is getting less consistent as Namjoon's breath evens out. Soon enough, Seokjin's eyes are losing the battle against the drowsiness weighting over them. There's a weird noise somewhere in the house, but he pays it no mind as his breath evens out as well.

With Jimin and Taehyung being the only one home, it's nothing new. But there's a weird feeling to it all. Nevertheless, he knows if it's anything major they'll come knocking.

It ends up being kind of major, but there's no knocking, and it's not who he thought it would be.

God, he wishes they had chosen his goddamn room to watch the movie, then he could have locked the door and wouldn't need to open his eyes to Lee Jaehwan's face.

"What the fuck." Is all he manages to say.

There's Jimin and Taehyung struggling to hold him back with pink latex gloves on, but they clearly kept on drinking so they don't seem to be the most efficient defence line.

Namjoon makes a confused noise when Seokjin's warmth disappears, following him as he sits up on the bed.

He looks confused by Jaehwan's presence, until he sees the door of their apartment gapping open down the hallway and his maknaes’s distraught states.

And then, he doesn't look confused anymore.

The only time Seokjin saw Namjoon looking like that was years ago, when one of Seokjin's ex cheated on him, gave him a STD, then called him on the phone to break up with him. That had been a funny night. That evening, Namjoon silently went out and came back hours later hiding his hands in his pockets. Seokjin never asked.

"What do you think you're doing here?"

Calm and composed is, and always will be, the scariest kind of Kim Namjoon. He gets to his feet in an intimidating motion, ready to block off any attempt to get to his Hyung.

"Seokjinah, I need to talk to you"

"He's got nothing to say to you. Get out."

"I'm not talking to you." He tries to side step Namjoon but he's having none of it. He grabs him by the arm, hard enough to earn him a whine, and pulls him out of the room into the hallway and out the door of their apartment. He’s got his two hands holding on roughly to Jaehwan’s shirt collar, probably planning on slamming him into a wall, but before they can create a bigger disturbance, Seokjin stops him with a gentle hand.

"Go back inside." He tells Namjoon, his eyes on Lee Jaehwan

"Hyung..." He tries to argue, not letting go.

"I got this."

It's probably the look of steel on Seokjin's face that convince Namjoon to let him handle the situation, and after throwing a last look between the two, he reluctantly lets go and withdraws inside.

He's probably spying through the peephole, though.

"Let's walk." Seokjin, throws over his shoulder, walking towards the exit without looking if Jaehwan is following. The last thing he wants is noise complaints from his neighbour. He doesn't even know what time it is, but the last time he checked, it was pushing 10, so it's probably getting late.

They walk down the staircase and out of the building in total silence, the only thing confirming the other man following being the sound of his steps close behind.

Once they step into the air outside, Seokjin takes the direction of the nearest subway station.

Jaehwan hurries his steps to be level with him.

"I know it's rude to barge in like that but I really needed to talk to you... and your roommates refused to go and get you."

"Reasonable, as they knew I was busy.”

"I didn't have a choice, you've haven't responded to any of my text. I couldn't find you after you left the library."

"Probably because I didn't want to talk to you. But we're here, so let's talk." He stops and turns around." I don't know how to make you understand that I don't have any interest in you, any intention to date you-"

Jaehwan tries to interrupt but Seokjin raises his hand and stops him.

"I'm at the point where I don't even want to try and stay friend with you. You're making me hate you."

"But the night we spent together-" he says, grabbing his wrist, again.

"Meant nothing. We slept together. That's it. I was drunk, you were drunk. We had a one off and honestly, I don't even remember half of it. From what I do remember though, you weren't really memorable. We're just not a good match."

"I was drunk, if we tried again-"

Seokjin snaps his wrist away and takes a step back.

"There is not going to be an 'again'. There was never going to be one since there's nothing between us."

"Seokjin..."

"You're making yourself look pathetic, and you're making my life hard. Just please, stop it. Don't talk to me outside of club duty."

"Why, because your boyfriend won't like it?" Jaehwan, says, taking a step forward to stay close, invading his personal space. Again.

"No, because I don't want to talk to you, that's all. Namjoon has nothing to do with this."

"Oh, come on Seokjinie, I know you're not dating him for real. You’re just trying to make me jealous.” Jaehwan says with a smile, as if he's gotten the upper hand. Seokjin hesitates a second but decides it's not even worth to try and defend the lie they crafted to discourage Jaehwan’s advances. Clearly, it failed.

“No, I told everyone we were dating so you would give up, but your head is so far up your ass that it didn't matter to you."

"Yah Kim Seokjin," he says, and take a couple of steps again, until he's standing in Seokjin's face. "I've let a lot of insults slip by because I know you're just playing hard to get, but don't cross the line. You keep calling me stupid and stuff, and it's not cute anymore. Let's just stop this game, ok? We don't have to tell anyone if you're scared for your image, we can just date in secret."

Seokjin is shocked frozen by the thickness of Jaehwan's skull. He's so deluded, and he's starting to regret not letting Namjoon handle him. No, he had to go and get them alone, at night, with no one around.

"I'm not playing hard to get. I don't like you. Leave me alone. How many times do I have to say-"

Lee Jaehwan grabs both of his shoulders and goes in for a kiss, shocking Seokjin who braces himself for the impact. He struggles to push the man away, but he's never been the muscular type, giving Jaehwan an advantage that he takes to keep a tight hold on him.

He can feel fingers digging uncomfortably into the meat of his shoulder, making it hard to avoid Jaehwan's attempt to plant one on him.

Seokjin is considering a nice and well timed headbutt, desperate times and all that, but it proves itself unnecessary as two muscled arms pull the man off him and make quick work of throwing him to the ground in a mess of limbs.

Never in his life Seokjin has been this happy to see Jeon Jungkook, modern day hero.

He's standing tall in all of his post workout glory, a gym bag hanging from his shoulder and his tank top showing off his impressive biceps.

Once Jaehwan sees who it is, he exclaims in anger, opening his mouth probably to shout about respects and social conventions.

Before anything makes out of his throat though, Jungkook interrupts him.

"Sunbae," He says, voice honey-sweet. He carefully places a foot on Jaehwan's hands, putting a light pressure. "I don't think you're showing a good example right now, with the bad touch and the lack of consent" Seokjin bites his tongue, knowing now is not the right time to bring up Jungkook's romantic history. "You should go home and reflect on that for the night." He says, and then add just a little bit more pressure on the hand squished between his shoe and the harsh cement of the side walk. "And If you ever touch Seokjin-Hyung again, I will break every single joint in both of your hands. Understood?"

His smile doesn't match his words nor his action, succeeding in creeping even Seokjin out.

He will never fight Jungkook for the last chapseolttoek ever again.

Jaehwan jumps to his feet, looking like he wants to run for his life, but he still takes the time to pull his clothes back in place, patting himself down while huffing out in displeasure.

"That's no way to talk to your sunbae. You better learn some respect Jeon Jungkook." he tries and fails to look intimidating.

Jungkook only cocks an unimpressed eyebrow, taking a step and prompting Jaehwan into backtracking. He walks away half running, throwing a worried look over his shoulder every few meters until he's a dot in the distance.

They stand in place in silence, looking at where Jaehwan left, until Seokjin snaps out of his shocked state and seeks the closest bench to sits himself on, head falling into his hands with a humourless laugh.

Jungkook takes the hints and sits by his side, putting a reassuring hand on his neck and gently massaging the tension there.

They stay like that a few minutes until his phone starts ringing, the line It’s gon’ get you in trouble resonating into the night and pulling him out of his silence.

Kim Namjoon is shining back at him with a picture of his friend holding up a small crab, excitement noticeable by his facial expression. It usually brings a smile to his face, but this time he signs before answering.

"Hyung, is everything ok? You've been gone for a while" He says the second Seokjin hits answers.

"Yeah I'm good, he's gone,” he says trying to sound normal.” but I walked into Jungkook so I forgot to text you back..."

"You sound weird, did anything happen?"

He takes a look at Jungkook, and the maknae stares back, probably having heard Namjoon's question in the quietness of the night.

"No, I'm just tired. But I think it's finally over, he got it. He seemed pretty... Deterred" he finishes, thinking about Jaehwan's scared face as he ran away.

Namjoon hesitates on the phone, probably not believing him one bit. He can hear Taehyung and Jimin anxiously asking for news, but Namjoon ignores them, probably overanalysing the way he sounds from the few words they exchanged and dressing hypothesis on why he sounds like somebody told him his jokes suck.

"Just... get home safely hyung" He ends up saying.

"Don't worry about me, I've got Mr.Muscle here guarding my ass." he says throwing a smile Jungkook's way.

After he hangs up and he and Jungkook are on their way, he takes a moment to put a hand on his Maknae's shoulder.

"I would appreciate if you could keep what happened tonight to yourself. I don’t know how Namjoon might react, but I don’t want him getting into trouble with the school."

Jungkook thinks for a second but seems to agree.

"He's going to be really angry if he finds out we kept it from him, though."

"I'll deal with him if it comes to it, alright?"

Jungkook raise an eyebrow, but Seokjin knows he can trust him.

"Aigoo~! our cute maknae is now a man capable of saving a damsel in distress" he says, changing the subject, pinching Jungkook's cheek.

"You're aware that you're describing yourself as a damsel in distress in this context, right?" He says as he slaps the hand away from his face.

"Whatever."

*******

Life without worrying about stalkers and fake relationship is... Regular. Back to normal.

He goes to school, goes to theater club, goes home, sleep, rinse, repeat.

Also, he tries not to think about how almost nothing changed about his relationship with Namjoon, going from normal to fake dating to back to normal. If he let his mind wander, he'd overanalyse how they acted as they usually did to make people believe they were dating. Huh.

Exhibit A.

Namjoon gets home to find him finishing a 10 funniest Britain's got talent auditions video.

"Hyung, not again. We talked about this. You should be writing your paper. You know when you watch one of these you can't stop."

"It's a rabbit hole, I swear to god. Plus, YouTube knows. It knows, and it just keeps showing me more and more recommendation of audition's video. They got me by the Balls, Namjoonie."

Namjoon's sits down on the couch next to him, and Seokjin does the most natural thing, which is, reclining back until his dongsaeng passes his arms around him to hug him to his chest. Then, he presses on the button for the next video.

Exhibit B.

Namjoon is in one of his mood where nothing can disturb him of the song he's working on, not even hunger. He's been sitting in front of his laptop for at least eight straight hours. Seokjin knows, he counted.

Namjoon's got his headphone on and his clavier out, and all of his mixing equipment he saved for years to acquire are spread out across his desk. He's bobbing his head one moment, then growling in irritation the next.

Seokjin puts the rice cooker to good use then, preparing some slim kimbap that he cuts into small bite size.

Yoongi watch him cook from the kitchen table where he's working on a cup ramen, slurping obnoxiously. He raises an eyebrow, scoffing when he sees Seokjin disappear into the room Namjoon has yet to come out since that morning.

He doesn't bother trying to win Namjoon's attention, just grabs the first piece and feeds it in his dongsaeng's mouth. Or more like shoves it. He's not against manually making Namjoon chew, but thankfully, even in his hyper focused state, Namjoon’s reflexes make quick work of the pieces Seokjin feeds him. Then, once the plate has been emptied, he swats at the rice stuck to Namjoon’s lower lips, just as Hoseok steps into the room.

His roommate takes two steps back and gets out the way he came in.

Exhibit C.

Namjoon's overhear Jungkook telling what transpired that night to Taehyung and all hell break loose.

Seokjin is not even mad at the maknae, who probably only wanted to brag to his boyfriend. But maybe he'll put a little extra gochugaru in his spicy cold noodle next time.

It's Saturday night, and before he has to give his soul back to the university, he's playing a little DS to relax. He's got his favourite DS-and-chill outfit on, and nothing can ruin this night.

Except.

He hears the front door slamming, then somebody running, then his door burst open to his maknae whose face has gone comically pale.

"Seokjin-Hyung, he- he Knows. Namjoon-Hyung knows."

That's all it takes for Seokjin to jump to his feet and run at the door, trying to stop Namjoon from getting himself into prison. He's pretty sure it’s not as glamorous as prison playbook made it seem. And Namjoon is not even a star player.

He attracts looks from passerby, maybe because the shoes he has on don't match. Taehyung's faux-fur moccasin do not go well with Jungkook plain puma trainer. It might also be because he didn't take the time to get out of his pink onesie. It even has a bunny tail.

"Namjoon! Stop!" He shout-whispers once he's a few meters behind him. Namjoon ignores him, power walking towards the subway station.

"Yah! You better stop right there Kim Namjoon!" He says a little bit louder. Suddenly, Namjoon takes a right turn into a smaller street. Dumbfounded, Seokjin turns the corner to follow after him, only to stops abruptly inches from the man's face.

He looks livid, and Seokjin almost has the reflex to take a step back. But this is Kim Namjoon we're talking about.

"Why didn't you tell me." He sounds cold and angry, but most of all, disappointed.

Seokjin crosses his arms, giving the younger man the sassy eyebrows treatment. The bunny tail makes it all the more credible.

"Namjoon, you're hellbent on whopping some asshole's ass when you're still in your slippers and haven't even heard the whole story"

Namjoon looks down at his slipper clad feet. Monstrosities Seokjin bought him as a joke a few years ago, when he dropped Cheonggukjang broth all over his old ones, rendering them a brown and stinky mess. The panda shaped slippers had been a fixture since then.

"If Jungkook hadn't been there he would have-"

"While I am truly grateful for our precious maknae's intervention, I am not as powerless as you make me seem, and I had a very powerful and teeth shattering headbutt up my sleeve that I would have used otherwise. Now; Let's talk about how you were about to go get your ass kicked out of school for something that did not happen."

"I-... Hyung."

"You need to learn how to control your anger. It's an issue; whenever something set you off you just spring into action without thinking. It's going to get you in jail someday."

"Hyung"

"Don't 'hyung' me right now, I’m being serious. You have a brain, and I know for a fact that you know how to use it, so use it." He says, poking a crocked finger into Namjoon's chest. The younger man grabs his hand as a whole, stopping his probing. He doesn't let go, leaving them in a weird hand holding position.

"I would gladly go to jail for you, Seokjinah" he says, avoiding his eyes once he speaks.

"Yah, I'm the hyung here, I'm the one who should do the protecting." Seokjin answers to Namjoon weirdly intense declaration.

"As if, you only use the hyung card when you want to win an argument, you're the tallest toddler I know."

"Kim Namjoon, you wanna die?" He says, irritation plaguing his tone. But his dongsaeng carries on.

"You're the biggest coward I know, even worse than Hoseok. So, I know for a fact that you aren't a natural born protector. I've known you for so long I also know that you would go to scary height to protect those you love. But you also tend to forget yourself and your own safety. And that's why I feel like it's my job to take care of anyone that fucks with you. So please, don't hide this kind of stuff from me."

"That's sweet, but I raised you better than for you to solve problems with your fist. You've been hanging out with yoongi too much recently."

Namjoon rolls his eyes but grabs Seokjin's other hand.

So, yeah. They're just standing face to face, holding hands. The silence stretches on, until Seokjin runs out of details to map out on Namjoon's face.

"Well." He says, more to put an end to the silent staring contest than to start an actual conversation. "This has been weirdly informative." His hands are getting moist the longer they stand around like a couple of love sick kids. Namjoon still doesn't say anything, just stare at him. "Moral of this story, don't go beat up anyone in my name, please". More silence.

"Alright, so we're doing this weird staring into each other eyes while swinging our hands around, not awkward at all. Nope."

"You know hyung,-" Namjoon starts, voice steady, but with a weird nervousness to it.

Seokjin waits patiently.

"You know, I never told you this before but-"

Seokjin blinks, now curious about what is about to be said.

"You're very pretty."

Namjoon’s face flush a dark red after the comment leaves his mouth.

Seokjin thinks it's adorable. He also thinks hearing Namjoon compliment him is his new favourite thing in the world. But of course, his automatic answer is sarcasm.

He scoffs, and he could probably find a better comeback if he wasn't so busy trying to hide his matching blush. "Tell me something I don't know." He answers dryly.

There's a heavy silence hanging over them, and Seokjin wonders for a second what kind of weird knowledge Namjoon is about to drop on him this time.

"I really fucking love you, Kim Seokjin." Namjoon answers, squeezing his hands harder.

If he hadn't been shocked out of his mind, he probably would have been self-conscious about the river of sweat accumulating between their palms. But his brain has been frozen still, as the rest of his body.

"I've been in love with for so long, I can't for the love of god remember since when. And if you don't feel the same, I think we're all mature enough to not destroy ten years of friendship over it."

Seokjin opens his mouth but nothing comes out, and he just lets it hanging slack. It matches his eyes perfectly; just on the edge of popping out of his skull.

"But I really needed to say it. Because every time I look at you shoving food in your mouth, or hear you say a new dad joke even worse than the last, or doing that weird shoulder dance that makes you look like a moron, I fall a little bit harder in love with you. And I needed to know if I had a chance, because if I don't put a brake to my feelings soon, I'm scared I won't be able to love anyone else as hard as I love you."

It takes a moment for his brain to comeback online, and then Seokjin thinks about everything this could change, break and ruin. But it's only for a fleeting second, because he also thinks about the puzzle pieces. How him and Namjoon have fit from day one. How they've been each other's support system since the beginning.

Also how they've basically been married without legal contract or physical perks for the better of the last few years of their relationship. Being Facebook Official with the man he loves doesn't sound so bad.

"The kids are going to give us so much shit when we tell them we might finally make their marriage goal a reality." He answers, and Namjoon chuckles with a smile so wide his face might crack. They swing their hands still clasped together, looking at each other fondly.

"Sooo, are you going to kiss me or do I have to do all the work?" His boyfriend-future husband asks.

Seokjin snorts, grabs him by his stupid face and smash their mouth together.

*******

"Does that mean we can call you eomma and appa without you getting mad?" Taehyung asks, picture of innocence.

"That's hyung for you Taehyungah." Seokjin says. He's not about to be disrespected by his favorite dongsaeng.

"Alright, eomma-hyung.".

"These youngsters" he swears quietly.

#magicshopnet #bts fanfic #namjin fanfic #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #this was supposed to be straight up non established established relationship fluff #but i ended up using it to work through some issues lol #bangtanscenery

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jhsbrat · 5 years

Text

the dick & the dancer, pt. 1 | knj

part ½

genre: brooklyn 99/cop au, enemies to lovers au

word count: 11.9k (there’s still another part to go, i hate myself)

warnings: crass humor, general idiocy, lightest of angst

a/n: i enjoyed writing this so much even though my other wips are staring at me in disbelief from my drafts page asfklsflk

special thanks goes to @guktwt and @seokinkjin for reading my drafts and convincing me that this wasn’t a total dumpster fire, ily :’)

“All units, come in. We’ve got a 10-31, back up needed.”

“Unit 2 here, what’s the situation?”

“Looks like a robbery in progress in the kitchen.”

“Copy, I’m en route. Did you get a good look at the suspect?”

“He’s got his back to us, but it looks like-“

“Son of a bitch! I knew it!”

“Wait, don’t-“

“Unit 1? Unit 1, come in, what’s happening?”

You charge at the silver haired man standing at the kitchen counter, sandwich still in his hand. Tomato and mayo go flying as he falls to the ground on his back, breath punched out of him. He blinks once, then twice, dazed, looking up to see you sitting on his chest.

“What the hell just- are you cuffing me?”

“That’s what happen to people who steal, Jimin, they get arrested.” You snap back, clicking the silver metal over his wrists.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, it was a sandwich!”

“Theft is theft, buddy.” Pulling the man up into a standing position, you huff and blow away a loose strand of hair that escaped from your braid when you rushed him.

“Nice job, officer.” Jungkook comes up from his crouching spot behind the door. “Although in the future, you should probably let me know before you decide to assault the perp.”

Rolling your eyes, you prepare to respond when Taehyung comes skidding into the room.

“Jimin, they’re coming- oh. Uh, hey guys.”

You quirk a brow at the out of breath cop, his chest still heaving from running in response to your call. Jungkook’s eyes shift between the man you’ve got in cuffs and the one standing at the door.

“Don’t tell me-was this an inside job?”

“Tae!” You exclaim, surprise coloring your features, “I can’t believe it, you know how important my lunch is to me! I have to go all the way downtown to get the specialty ham imported from Spain!”

Taehyung sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry guys, it’s just that-well, sometimes Chef Boyardee just doesn’t cut it anymore and you’re so good at cooking and-“

Jimin lets out an exaggerated sigh and shakes his arms in annoyance, cuffs clinking together noisily. “Can I remind you all that we’re talking about a sandwich?”

You round on him, jabbing a finger into his face. “And let me remind you that I carry a taser and I’m not afraid of using it on a civilian-“

“What exactly is going on here?” A voice boomed.

All four of you whip around to see Seokjin standing at the entrance, arms crossed over his chest. Yoongi is leaning on the pillar behind him, clipboard in hand and a blank expression on his face.

“Captain!” Your voices chimed out simultaneously, all of you drawing your backs up straight to stand at attention.

“Can someone answer the Captain, please?” Yoongi drawled, “Something tells me this isn’t worth the public service salary I get paid.”

“Uh, well. You see-“ Taehyung begins, stuttering.

“We were really just-“ Jungkook tries to continue, coming up with nothing.

You sigh and pinch your brows together. “Captain, we caught Jimin and Taehyung as the ones who keep stealing my lunch. So, naturally, I cuffed him to teach him a lesson.”

There’s a long pause as Seokjin stares at each of you in turns, all of you waiting with bated breath.

“His arms should be behind his back, it prohibits balance and prevents suspects from running off. You should know better, Detective.” He finally says, wagging at Jimin’s hands linked together in front of his body.

You blink in surprise. “Of course, sir, you’re right.”

He nods and walks off, Yoongi shaking his head and following behind him. All of you exhale, letting out the breath you had been holding in. Jungkook high fives you as Taehyung moves to release Jimin from his restraints.

“You’re all idiots,” Namjoon calls from his desk, “Every single one of you.”

Bodies crowd into the briefing rooms, people fighting over the limited number of seats at the tables. Yoongi stands at the front, flipping through papers and scribbling last minute notes, before he clears his throat and begins to speak.

“Good morning. Last night-“

“Hold that thought, Sergeant.” You say, walking into the room late, boot heels clicking against the over shined linoleum floor. Stopping at the seat in the very front, you tap on the shoulder of the young beat cop currently occupying it.

“Out of my chair, pipsqueak. You get the back.”

“But-but I was here early.” The boy stammers. You glance down and read his nametag.

“Beomgyu, is it? Listen here Beomgyu, I’m gonna give you some advice, free of charge,” you squat down to look him in the eyes, “When a ranking officer gives you an order, you follow it. Now up, you’re making my seat warm and I’m not a lizard.”

The boy gathers his things and walks to his relegated spot in the back as you plop down and prop up your feet. Next to you Namjoon scoffs and shakes his head, turning back to face front.

“Nice of you to join us, Detective. I was actually just about to mention you.” Yoongi says, focusing his gaze on you.

“Was it to congratulate me on my 98% conviction rate? Because I’m flattered, Sergeant, but I don’t do this job for the thanks. I do it for the fans.” You smile cheekily up at him.

“You have absolutely no fans,” Taehyung calls from his seat.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Yoongi continues, “Because I was not going to thank you. Actually, I was getting ready to reprimand you in front of everyone. You know why?”

Your shit-eating grin slides off your face. “Why?”

“Because the train pick-pocketer you arrested on Thursday has been released.”

Everyone in the room simultaneously lets out a groan and Jungkook throws a paper ball of his crumpled notes at you. Leaning forward to place your head on the table, you cover yourself with your hands.

Over the melee of sudden noise, Yoongi goes on speaking. “Would you like to tell everyone why your suspect has been released and cleared of all charges, even though three cameras and two cops clearly saw what he was doing?”

“I forgot to Mirandize him,” you mutter from your hiding place under your arms.

Commotion breaks out again as everyone decides to let you know exactly how annoyed they were with you.

“We’ve been trying to catch him for weeks!”

“That’s the first thing they teach you in the Academy, how do you just forget-“

“Listen!” You sit up and turn in your seat to face the crowd of your angry coworkers, “I was caught up in the heat of the moment, okay!”

“He was a seventeen year old kid, dummy.” Jimin quipped, perched on the windowsill at the other side of the room. “Even I know you’re supposed to Mirandize first during an arrest and the closest to being a cop I’ve ever been was binge watching Law and Order for 48 hours.”

“SVU?” Taehyung asks.

“Duh, dude.” The pair laugh and high five each other.

“If I can all have your attention again,” Yoongi taps his pen loudly on the podium he was leaning against, “I want to finish the briefing by talking about The Dancer.”

The noise quiets down immediately and everyone leans in to listen closely. Yoongi pulls up a slide show on the board and flips through photos of a crime scene: an upscale penthouse.

“Last night, between the hours of 7 pm and 1 am, a Caravaggio art work was stolen from the residence of Royston Cornwallis Staley, a local businessman. At the time of the burglary, Staley was at a charity event with his wife.”

“And how do we know it’s The Dancer who did it?” Jungkook questions.

“The same way we always do. He left his calling card.” Yoongi clicks to a photo from the scene of a barely consumed and still smoking cigar, the side stamped with the words Cohiba Behike.

“Jesus, those Cubans are expensive. He’s a real prick for just leaving them there and not even having the audacity to finish one.” Jungkook huffs.

You sigh and lean back in your seat, tapping your foot against the table leg. “He’s taunting us. It’s his way of proving how much money he’s making off these heists.”

“I’m sorry, but who’s The Dancer? And why do we call him that?” Beomgyu asks from his place in the back.

“He’s a fine arts burglar that we’ve been trying to catch for months. We call him that because he’s light on his feet, newbie.” Namjoon explains, turning around to look at the boy. “And the next time you have a question: Don’t.”

Beomgyu blushes in embarrassment as Taehyung raises his hand to get the Sergeant’s attention. “How much was the painting worth?”

“Wait! Don’t answer!” Jimin cries, jumping suddenly to his feet. “I’m taking bets on people’s guesses. Irene, go.”

“10 million,” The petite crime scene investigator answers. Jimin jots down her response.

“No way, isn’t Caravaggio an Italian name? Gotta be at least 25 mil,” Jungkook posits.

“32!”

“You’re crazy, it’s like 13.”

“Staley is a rich guy, must be somewhere in the 50s.”

Jimin nods, writing down everyone’s names and bets, then turns to you.

“You wanna put down a number?”

Shrugging, you offer, “98.”

“Million?” Jimin’s eyes bug out of his head, “Are you sure?”

“Nah, let her bet it, I’m tryna win this money.” Jungkook says, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

“Alright then. Sergeant, if you can do the honors.”

Yoongi looks down at all of you, bored expression still unchanged from when you first walked into the room. “The private appraiser Staley hired valued the work at around $101 million.”

You stand up and whoop, much to the dismay of about everyone else in the room. They all reluctantly hand over their money to you when you go around to collect it. You nearly have to pull the cash from Jungkook’s hands, who gave it up with a grimace on his face. Shaking his head, Namjoon regards the scene. “This is really just sad, guys.”

“No, what’s really sad is the hole in the ozone layer from all the hair spray you used this morning to make that coif of yours stick up.” You turn to face the other detective, counting the bills you hold. “Seriously, do you use butter in there? I can see it shine from the parking lot.”

“Yeah, I did. Borrowed it from your mother last night.” Namjoon retorts without missing a beat.

“Oh, real classy, Kim-“

“And you think you’re one to talk about class-“

“I’m glad to know the two of you get along just as well as you always do,” Yoongi says, not bothering to raise his voice any louder than his usual speaking tone even though the two of you were yelling over each other at this point. He had a tendency to do that instead of shouting, forcing other people to lean in closely to listen. It gave him a sort of weird power trip to know he didn’t need to do much to catch people’s attention. You just found it annoying, but stopped your bickering long enough to hear what your superior wanted to say. He has a small smile on his face as he looks between you and the detective on your right, knowing there was only one reason Min Yoongi would smile like that-

“Because I’m putting you both on this case.”

You whip around to face the man in disbelief. “Sergeant, you can’t be serious.”

“Sir, I’ll work with anyone else, even Tae-“ Namjoon pleads.

“Hey!” Taehyung cries out from his seat.

Yoongi shook his head. “Not happening. You two have the highest conviction rates of anyone on the team and I needed this guy behind bars yesterday. I want you both on this.”

“Sarge, I’m sorry, but I can’t work with this dick breathing down my neck-“

“And I don’t want to be blamed when she eventually commits a lawsuit worthy offense!”

Yoongi holds up a hand to stop your pleas. “You,” he points in your direction, “are sloppy. The rules are a suggestion to you and I need to make sure there’s someone responsible watching what you’re doing.”

Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms over your chest in defeat.

“And you,” the blonde continues, swiveling to Namjoon, “are too uptight. You don’t know how to think outside of the box and quite frankly, that’s something you can learn from your new partner here.”

The other detective’s lips harden into a straight line at that.

“The only way either of you get off this case is if one you gets shot and honestly, I don’t want to fill out the paperwork for that. So you’re going to follow my orders or you can pack up your desk and find a new precinct. Have I made myself clear?”

You and Namjoon nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now get out of my briefing room.”

“Hey, Jimin?”

The man in question picked up his silver head to regard you. “Oh, hey, I thought I smelled the scent of failure.”

Speaking through a clenched jaw, you continue with the reason why you came to the assistant’s desk. “Is the Captain available? I really need to talk to him.”

“To chat with you about changing partners? No, he’s not. Busy man, you know, being the Captain of a police precinct and all.”

You glance up to look through the window into Seokjin’s office. “I can see him, Jimin. He’s playing with a yo-yo.” The man in question stares at the toy in his hand and proceeds to try and throw it forward, resulting in the hard plastic whipping back to hit him in the face.

Jimin just gives you a simpering smile. “Like I said. Busy.”

Pursing your lips in annoyance, you turn and stalk back to your desk where Namjoon waits for you.

“No luck?”

You fall into your seat. “Nope. You can go ahead and try, but I’m pretty sure he still has a grudge against you for the St. Patrick’s Day parade last year.”

“I didn’t recognize him with all that green paint on, all I saw was a drunk guy pissing in a public park!”

You lean forward to place your chin in your hands. “Look, the sooner we start this case, the sooner we can finish and get out of each other’s hair.”

Namjoon lets out an exasperated breath and nods. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go talk to the Staley’s.”

“Wait, what?” You scrunch up your nose in confusion, “What do we need to talk to them for, we already got their statements. We should be looking into The Dancer.”

“Like I’m going to follow the advice of someone who forgot to Mirandize a perp,” Namjoon snorts, “We’re doing this whole thing by the book. And that includes getting our own statements from the victims.”

“This is seriously a waste of our time.” You stand up to look at him and he straightens up to do the same. Although your boots gave you a little lift, Namjoon still had inches on your height and he used them to stare you down.

“I’m not arguing about this. Right now we need to talk to them while their memory’s still fresh.”

“Ooh, I love it when you use your cop voice,” Taehyung snickers as he walks by, tossing an apple for Namjoon to bite into.

“Just go, dude,” Jungkook sits next to you. “You can always do the research later. Stop being stubborn just because of that one thing years ago-”

“Alright!” You squeal, swatting at him before he could finish his sentence. “I’ll go!” Taehyung’s brows raise and Namjoon watches smugly, still chewing.

And that’s how you found yourself in a ritzy, high-rise apartment an hour later, speaking to an annoyed housewife in a designer dress worth more than your yearly salary.

“I already told the other cops everything I remember from that night,” Victoria Staley shrilled. “I don’t understand why this is taking so long!”

“We’re just trying to be thorough, ma’am.” Namjoon grit his teeth into a polite smile.

You chuckle and look back down at your phone, tapping away its keys.

“Well, I have nothing else to say other than we came home and the painting was just gone. No broken glass, no door ajar, just our missing property. It was one of a kind, you know. Italian, Baroque, not another like it.”

Namjoon made a noise of understanding. “Could there have been anyone else with access to the apartment? A maid, maybe?”

The woman twirled the earring dangling from her ear, thinking. “Yes, of course. The maid, the cook, the nanny, and the gardener. But they’ve all been vetted and checked by us before. Besides, none of them were working that night.”

“In any case, it would still be helpful for us to speak to them. Are any of them here now?”

Ms. Staley sighed dramatically and uncrossed her legs to stand up. “No, none of them are here. I’ll give you their contact information so you can find them instead.”

“That will work, thanks,” Namjoon’s face dropped as soon as she left the room. “Hopefully one of them knows something.”

You give a noncommittal hum, phone still in your hands. He turns to look at you.

“Detective! Can you stop texting and focus, please?”

You look up and blink. “I am focused. What do you think they pay the gardener to do here, anyways? They live in an apartment.”

His lips straighten into a thin line as he regards you. “How did you even get this job?”

“My brilliant wit and killer fashion sense,” you deadpan back. He doesn’t have the chance for a retort before Ms. Staley saunters back in.

“Here’s all of our staff’s contact information. Now please leave, I have a very important charity event to get ready for.” She hands Namjoon a list and crosses her arms over her chest, Manolo Blahnik clad foot tapping against the marble floor in impatience.

The two of you are quickly hurried out the door and back down the stairs, sharp autumn air hitting you once you step out from the posh private residence and back into the chaos of the city streets. As you stride down the sidewalk, Namjoon begins to deliberate aloud.

“I’m thinking we can start with the maid, she probably might have been the last person in the building before-“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Before all that, I need another cup of coffee if I’m going to be stuck with you for a while.” You interrupt him, cutting through cars onto the other side of the road towards 14th street, your eyes still on your phone. Namjoon trails after you, long legs easily catching up with your brisk pace.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to look both ways before you cross the street?”

You pointedly ignore him in favor of pulling open the heavy wood and glass door of the café in front of you. The scent of caramel and chocolate infiltrate your nose and you step forward in line behind an office worker with dark rings under his eyes and a college student yakking away on a call. Your eyes peruse the menu above the counter and your lips curl into a frown when you realize they weren’t yet selling their annual festive options.

“It’s November, you would think they’d have holiday drinks by now,” you murmur to yourself, resigned to the idea of a plain cup of joe.

Namjoon moves closer and looks down at you. “I thought you hated the holidays, anyways?”

“No, I just hate you.”

At that, he sighs. “Listen, we’re going to have to figure out how to be cordial if we want this to work.”

You shrug half-heartedly. “I think what we have going for us right now is working well.”

“Look, I don’t know what you have against me-“

You snort in derision, moving forward after the beleaguered office worker completes his order and steps aside. “I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that you think you’re better than everyone else. Or like to namedrop where you attended college in every conversation. Or that you attended college at all, unlike some of us. Or maybe a million other things that I can’t list right now, because I would die before I get to them all. Just a thought.”

He bites the inside of his cheek, frustrated. “You’re not the easiest person to deal with either, you know. You reek of overconfidence and never know when to shut up. Just because you’re a brilliant cop doesn’t override that fact that you’re rude and crass and a bully.”

“Mhm, keep sweet talking me, Kim.”

“You’re so insufferable-“

“Detective!” A honeyed voice calls and you both turn your heads to see the barista at the counter smiling sweetly at you. Her upturned lips, lobbed short hair, and reddened cheeks from the heat of the espresso machine made her look like an elf.

“Yeri!” You walk up to her and grin back. “How’ve you been?”

“Better. The usual?” The girl is already writing the order on a blank cup.

“Sure. And whatever this guy is having.” You point back at Namjoon and begin digging through your wallet.

“Small coffee, black. No sugar.”

You hand the girl her money and fix him with an unamused look. “You really fulfill every cop stereotype, you know that?”

“I think it’s cute.” The barista smiles at him and the man blushes, coughing and looking away.

You chuckle and lean against the display of mugs emblazoned with the café logo for sale precariously piled one on top of another. “Anyways, Yeri, I wanted to ask you a question. You’re an art history major down at the university, right?”

“Yep!” The petite brunette beams excitedly, “Just a semester away from graduation.”

“Great, so maybe you can answer an art history question for me. What do you know about the Baroque period?”

The girl’s eyes light up. “Oh, what don’t I know? It started in Italy and it’s all about really ornate, grandiose aesthetics. Think dramatic lights and shadows, gold glided architecture, and Michaelangelo-esque sculptures.”

Namjoon leans forward to whisper in your ear. “Shouldn’t we get going? We still have other people to interview.”

You ignore the heat from his peppermint-scented breath tickling against the side of your face and wave him off instead. He huffs, walking away to wait at the other end of the counter. “Interesting, so they’d be pretty expensive pieces?”

“Oh yeah, hella expensive. There’s an art gallery down the street that is actually displaying one for an exhibition on Rembrandt. If you’re interested, you should totally check it out-“

At that moment, Namjoon’s walkie-talkie buzzed insistently. “Unit 1, there has been a 10-65 in your area.”

Yeri’s eyes widen. “What’s that?” She whispers to you as Namjoon picks up his device.

“Burglary,” you whisper back to her.

“Detective Kim here, go ahead.” Namjoon grabs his coffee, nods at the girl in thanks, and begins to head out the door.

“Someone reported a break in and theft from an art gallery on 14th street-“

His back stiffens and he slowly rotates around to face the two of you again, tongue pressed against his cheek. “Yeri. Where did you say that gallery was?”

“So you’re telling me,” Yoongi lets out a long, exasperated exhale, as if he had just caught his two year-old drawing on the walls with permanent marker again, “That the Dancer pulled off another theft. And the two of you were blocks away?”

You and Namjoon look at each other as if to confirm, then face him again. “Yeah, pretty much.”

The sergeant groans and slumps his entire body over the podium, sending papers flying to the floor. You wait a few seconds to see if he would straighten up again before going on.

“To be fair, sir, we did figure out-“

“Kid, I could give two shits about what you figured out, unless it happened to be who the hell this guy is,” Yoongi snaps, face still planted against the wood. “And I don’t think it was that because you’re still sitting here talking to me.”

His rebuttal leaves you reeling, mouth snapped shut and grimaced in a straight line. Though your cheeks don’t turn red, you feel your face heat up in anger and you have to fight to force your retort back, irritation sliding down your throat like bile. Namjoon glances at you for a moment, taking in your response, then turns back to your superior.

“Sergeant, we’ll get him next time, we swear.”

“There better not be a next time, Detective. Because next time, I want him behind bars. Now get out and do your job.”

You stand up without another word and exit the briefing room, letting the door slam shut behind you in frustration. Jaw clenched and shoulders hunched forward, you’re marching back to your desk when you feel a hand clasp onto your wrist. Bristling, you yank yourself away and pivot to see Namjoon behind you. He takes a sheepish step back and looks down into your eyes.

“I’m sorry he said that to you, it was uncalled for-“

“This is all your fault,” you hiss at him. His brows shoot up.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your need to ‘do things by the book’, even though it was a waste of time. If you had just listened to me, we could have figured out the gallery thing hours ago!” You blow out your cheeks and rub your temples.

“We found out about the gallery by accident, just because you happened to want some coffee!” He barks back. “It wouldn’t have mattered anyways!

“I didn’t want any coffee, you dolt, I was doing research!” Your hands are balled into fists at your side, trembling against the urge to smack him in the face. “I know you could only fathom doing that by typing in a database, like some nerd, but some of us do it by talking to actual people!”

Namjoon falters, blinking in surprise, and you take that moment to fall onto your chair and release the irascibility you had been holding in until now, breathing in and out deeply. When you feel your heart rate return to normal and your hands steady themselves again, you open your eyes to see the man still standing in front of you.

“Look,” you begin, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees, “I get a lot of shit for a lot of reasons on this job. I’m young, I’m a woman, and I’m not highly educated. That would make it hard for me anywhere, but it makes it especially hard here.

It doesn’t matter how bright or quick I am, I’m always going to be judged differently than you. I’m sure he didn’t even realize it, but the Sergeant called me ‘kid’ in there while you referred to you by your actual rank. And it’s like that every day. I have to work twice as hard as you to get the same amount of recognition.

So, yeah, maybe my methods are a little unorthodox. Maybe I am too brash, or loud, or ‘don’t speak like a lady’, whatever the hell that means. But a few mistakes aside, mistakes that are no where near as bad as the ones other people on our squad have committed,” You look up to stare at him directly in the eyes, “I’m a damn good cop and I demand you to treat me as such.”

Namjoon opens his mouth and then closes it again, at a loss for words. He simply nods and grabs the chair beside you to sit down. The precinct slowly returns to its previous hustle and bustle, noise level rising back up after everyone in the immediate vicinity had paused to witness the spat.

“Hey guys, I have the statement from the gallery owner,” Beomgyu walks up and smiles brightly at both of you, unaware of the tension still lingering in the air.

“Learn to read the room, rookie,” Taehyung comes up from behind him and takes the paper in his hands to hand off to you. “Understanding body language will save you from getting shot someday.”

The boy’s eyes widen comically, making him appear like one of those anime characters Jungkook loves to watch so much. “Has that ever happened to you?”

“Get lost.” Namjoon grunts, still watching you. The younger cop takes off and you chuckle, running your gaze down the notes from the interview with the gallery owner.

“So it was the Baroque piece Yeri was talking about that he stole…”

“Ba-what?” Jungkook comes to join you all, hand buried in a bag of Taki’s.

“Baroque. Renaissance era art style, heavy handed and elaborate.” Taehyung rattles off. The three of you look up at him in shock and he shrugs casually. “I took a few art classes at the local community college. Could have been a painter in another life, you know.”

Jungkook snorts. “Yeah, and I could have been a pop idol.”

Namjoon disregards both of them and still keeps his gaze locked in your direction. “What’s our next move, Detective?”

You look up at him for a split second, then back down at the page in your hands, thinking. “Tae, did the owner mention hiring any new people recently?”

The man scrunches up his nose in thought. “No, I didn’t think to ask him that.”

You hum and then cock your head back towards Beomgyu’s desk. “What about you, noob? Notice anything?”

The boy startles up and almost trips over his own feet in a hurry back to you. “Uh, well, I did see carpenter’s materials- a ladder, couple tools. Maybe he was renovating the building for a new exhibit and temporarily hired a contractor to do the work.”

The corners of your lips lift and the gears in your brain turn faster, a pattern beginning to form in front of you. Chewing your lip in silent contemplation, you give it a second more thought before you decide to posit your hypothesis to the rest of the team.

“As suave as he’s been, the Dancer has proven to be incredibly predictable. I looked up the past jobs he’s done and each city he’s been to, he’s focused on a specific historical period or origin. In London, it was all Spanish Cubism. New York City, French Impressionism. Brussels, Russian Futurism,” you explain, words falling out of your mouth as soon as you think of them. “His mind thinks like a collector, a curator. And here, he’s only done Baroque pieces so far.”

The men sit in stunned silence, taking in what you had presented. “When did you have time to research this?” Namjoon asks, confused.

“When I was texting earlier,” You shoot him a pointed glance and then press on. “Unlike those other big cities, though, we don’t have a bunch of art pieces from the same period strewn all over the place. Baroque art is expensive, costly to procure and there’s only three places in the entire city that currently house any works of its kind. Two he’s already hit and I’m thinking he can’t stand leaving here without attempting the last one. That’s where he’ll be next.”

“Okay, so tell me what was so important that you insisted on interrupting my practice time,” Seokjin demanded, rolling up his yo-yo to put away in his desk drawer.

You, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Taehyung were all currently huddled in Seokjin’s office, the crowded space making the air a little warmer. The younger two detectives were standing by the door, while Yoongi stood next to the Captain, eyes watching the clock on the wall tick closer to five pm.

“Well, sir, we’re fairly confident we know The Dancer’s next move.” Namjoon starts. Seokjin cocks a brow and leans forward in interest.

“I looked into the past jobs he’s done in past cities,” you explain, “And I noticed a repeating theme.”

“You gotta talk faster than that, folks. I’ve got a bottle of wine and a bubble bath waiting for me at home.” Yoongi interjects, eyes still on the clock.

“We have reason to believe that he has one more heist to pull off in our very own city.” Namjoon continues in a rush, “Because guess where one of the world’s most expensive pieces of antique Baroque jewelry is currently located?”

Seokjin sits back in his chair, grinning. “I’m thinking it’s right in our very own city.”

You nod. “It’s housed at the Museum of Art downtown and they’re having an after hours benefit gala tonight. It’s the perfect opportunity for him to steal it and all we need to do is be there.”

“So we attend the event as security and just wait. That sounds easier than I thought.” Jungkook bounces on his toes in excitement.

“I’m thinking not quite, buddy,” Namjoon shakes his head. “My partner also realized that both the victims had recently hired on new employees; the Staley’s a gardener and the gallery owner a contracted carpenter. Both of whom were left alone with the art and both of whom have not shown up for another day of work since the pieces were stolen from each place.”

“So he found a way to get inside access, making the theft easier to pull off.” Seokjin murmurs, rubbing his chin.

“Exactly. This guy is a professional and I don’t doubt he’s done the same for the gala. He’ll be tipped off immediately if we show up in uniforms and squad cars and then he’ll slip away because he’ll look like he belongs.”

Surprised with Namjoon’s mention of your discovery and sudden change in thought, you turn to look at the man. “What do you propose then?”

He beams and you can’t help but stare at his dimples. “We go undercover.”

“Ah, fuck yeah, a sting!” Taehyung punches a hand in the air, then quickly covers his mouth. “Sorry, Captain.”

Seokjin gives him an unimpressed look and then turns to Yoongi. “Looks like you’re not going to be making that bubble bath, Sergeant.”

Yoongi drops his eyes from the clock, seconds away from 5 pm, and releases a long sigh. “Why are you all trying to ruin my life?”

Things moved quickly from there on. Papers were signed, calls were made, and soon enough the entire precinct was scrambling in order to provide extra support to your team. Catching this thief would be a big deal for your squad and could be the kind of high-profile case you needed to propel you forward in your career. So you did everything you could think of in order to make it work. And that included squeezing into the only formal dress in your possession.

Huffing, you stare at yourself in the mirror, eyeing the red sequined fabric stretched a little tight since you had bought the piece years before you joined the force. You had packed on more weight in muscle since then, a necessary requirement in your daily life of chasing down and wrestling with criminals. But it gave the cloth material little room to move and made you a slightly hesitant about wearing the piece while on the job.

A loud knock sounded on the bathroom door, a signal to hurry up and leave. You take one last look at yourself and then walk out to come face to face with this rest of the team.

Taehyung whistles at the sight of you. “Someone call Tyra Banks, cuz we got America’s Next Top Model right here.”

You brush past him to grab your gun and holster from your desk. “Shut up, idiot.”

Jungkook comes up behind you to squeeze your shoulder. “Honestly, though, why are you always wearing leather jackets and jeans, you’re smokin’. I don’t know what Namjoon was thinking back when-“

You throw his arm off and whip around to look him in the eyes. “Keep talking, Jeon, I’ll tase your nuts here and now.”

“Absolutely no unnecessary tasing, I promised the Sergeant that-“ Namjoon walks into the room and then stops dead in front of you, mouth agape. “Um.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” You bend down to lift up your skirt and attach the gun holster to your upper thigh, Namjoon’s eyes following your movements. Snapping the band once to check that it’s secured, you raise back up to catch him staring.

“You’re gonna catch a fly, dude.” Taehyung walks up to shut Namjoon’s mouth close. The man blushes and pushes past you to the whiteboard in the back of the room. He takes a few moments to write figures and draw diagrams, then turn back to the rest of you.

“Alright, well, here’s how we’re going to do this. Jungkook and I are going to be in the control van out back, manning the communications and camera systems.” Namjoon gestures his crudely drawn map of the Museum’s premises, then points to you. “Taehyung is going to pose as a waiter and you’re going to be a wealthy patron attending the gala.”

“So how are we supposed to figure out which person is The Dancer? He’s not exactly going to show up with a name tag.” Jungkook asks.

“We’re going to keep an eye on people hovering around the exhibit the necklace is in. That’s why we need two sets of eyes in the actual room to check everyone out.”

“I feel like we need a seducing aspect in here somewhere. Detective, how about it?” Taehyung leers at you and leans his elbow on your shoulder.

“Oh, what, because I’m the only female on the squad- which points to some larger issues with our hiring practices, may I add- I have to be the honey pot?” You shrug him off and re-adjust your fallen dress straps, not noticing Namjoon’s gaze on your exposed collarbone.

“Honestly, my first choice would have been Jimin. He’s prettier than you.”

“Thanks babe!” The administrator calls from the lobby.

You roll your eyes and start to head out the door. “Let’s get this done.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Jungkook maneuvers out of the parking lot and onto the busy city street.

“Shoot.” You’re readjusting your earpiece, making sure your hair hid it well.

“I know you want to avoid this subject, but I have to know: Why are you still holding this grudge against Namjoon?”

You look over at the man driving, eyes trailing from the strained veins in arms from gripping the wheel up to the gentle turn of his nose and the small scar on his cheek, a parting gift from a criminal he apprehended years ago. He was smart and sweet and supportive, everything anyone could want. And you wished with all the strings and sinew of your heart that he was the one you had feelings for.

“Because he was a dick and you know it. I won’t forget that easily.”

Jungkook frowns. “Give him a break, he had just found out that his drunk hookup from the night before was his new co-worker. It’s not that easy to-“

“It wasn’t just that!” You suddenly explode, pent up emotion finally getting the chance to escape after years of seething below the surface. “You were late that morning when we were all being introduced, you didn’t see it. His eyes glazed over me like he’d never seen me before, like he’d never want to be associated with me. He essentially refused to say a word to me until Yoongi basically forced him to by pairing us up for that first case. And you know how well that one went.”

The man stops at a traffic light, red glow illuminating his face as he looks over at you. “Yeah, you lost the guy because you were too busy arguing and you were both put on desk duty for a month. But we both know that’s not it.”

You stare at him, mouth set and gaze unwavering. “Then what else could it possibly be?”

“He’s everything you’re not. Graduated from a top school, comes from a wealthy family, probably had an uncle score him this job. You cut your teeth on working your way up from a rookie traffic cop, poured the salt of your blood into getting where you are today.” Jungkook’s eyes are unforgiving as he looks right back at you. “You like to talk big and bad, but deep down, you’re just insecure. And when he ignored you that day, your mind immediately went to the worst possible place and it was that you’re not good enough.”

You bite down on your lip hard enough to pierce the skin, taste of iron bubbling on your tongue. The light switches to green and Jungkook accelerates, leaving you to face front again in silence. The two of you stay quiet for the remainder of the ride, an uneasy strain hovering between you both.

Minutes later, you arrive at the museum. Red carpet is laid out to welcome the loaded guests and waiters with platters of champagne glasses stand at the entrance to ply them with free booze. Taking a deep breath, patting your upper thigh once to ensure your gun was still secured, you prepare to exit the vehicle when Jungkook lightly touches your arm.

You don’t turn around and he doesn’t give you the chance to before he says his final piece. “I don’t think Namjoon was right, or even a decent person for what happened. All I’m saying is that your reason for treating him the way you do stems from a deeper place than just being a jilted one night flame and it’s time you confront it.”

A pause. Then you nod once, opening the car door to stand up and paste a brilliant smile on your face.

“Holy shit, they’re pouring you all Costco brand wine.”

You pick up a flute of champagne from a nearby tray and smile politely at the waiter before whispering; “I wouldn’t classify that as pertinent information, Taehyung.”

“I would,” Jungkook scoffs, “Considering how much a ticket costs to get into this thing.”

“Let’s stay sharp, people.” Namjoon comes in on the line. “Tae, anything you’ve noticed so far with the wait staff?”

“Uh, yeah, I think I went to high school with one of these guys.”

Namjoon sighs. “Anything happening on the ballroom floor?”

Your eyes run over the room, soft chandelier lights sending all the Tiffany necklaces and diamond cufflinks twinkling. The gold glided walls draw your gaze up to the second floor balcony, lined with wealthy philanthropists decked out in their designer brands. They all had on the same polite, uninterested smile wealthy people had while shopping for their next big purchase. Expected for an event like this, crafted exclusively for them. You shake your head in response to Namjoon’s question before you remember that he couldn’t actually see you. “No, just a lot of older people. Nothing suspicious.”

“Maybe try heading to the exhibit room where the necklace is held,” Jungkook adds. “He could be hanging around there.”

Your eyes scan the room until they land on the bar, its seats raised up a little higher than the rest of the space. It would give you a good vantage point to check everyone out and a decent reason to people watch without appearing strange.

“No, too obvious.” You walk up to the counter and slide onto a stool, gesturing to the bartender to catch his attention.

“What can I get you?” His lips stretch wide to reveal white, even teeth, and his eyes crinkle into half moons. You take in his high cheekbones, the gentle slope of his long, straight nose. Caught off guard for a moment, you blink at him.

“Uh- whiskey sour.”

“Coming right up.” He smiles again and moves away to prepare the drink.

“Detective, you’re on the job.” Namjoon hisses into your earpiece. You ignore him in favor of picking up the glass the bartender sets down in front of you.

“Let me know if that tastes alright, it’s my first night doing this.” The man grins sheepishly at you and watches as you take your first sip. It’s sweeter than you would have liked, heavier on the lemon and sugar than bourbon, but you weren’t going to tell him that and risk his smile disappearing.

“Perfect.”

He lets out the breath he’d been holding in, earlier confidence returning. “I’m Jay, by the way. I’ll be taking care of you tonight.”

Something more than customer service civility is laced in his voice and a throbbing hum fills your head. It takes you a second to remember that you were indeed on the job, here to catch an internationally renowned art thief and not flirt with the museum wait staff.

“Thank you, Jay.” You shoot him a polite smile and swivel around on your stool, facing the rest of the grand ballroom once more. Taking small sips of your drink to appear casual and stave off the sudden throbbing in your head, your eyes dart among the crowd, looking out for anything and nothing in particular. The room was full to the brim with the wealthy, expensive perfume doing nothing to cover the entitlement oozing off them in waves. You watch them get schmoozed by museum staff, writing off donation checks like it was nothing, and feel starkly out of place.

“Fuck!”

You narrow your eyes in worry, unable to respond lest someone nearby saw you talking to yourself. Jungkook does it instead.

“Tae, do you copy? What’s going on?”

A moment passes and your blood heats up in panic. Then the line crackles to life again.

“They put me on bathroom cleaning duty, the lazy shits. Someone puked in there already!”

You groan and close your eyes in frustration, anxiety dissipating.

“You’re officially cut off from using this line unless it’s absolutely an emergency.” Namjoon barks. You hear Taehyung wince before the line goes dead again.

“Bad drink?”

You startle and turn to your side to see a man in a suit leaning against the bar next to you. He smirks at your surprised expression and leans in closer.

“C’mon, I’ll buy you a new one. What will you have?” His hair is slicked back, an obscene amount of gel used to get it to lie flat like it does. A neatly trimmed beard and clean-cut suit defined the sharp angles of his face, the hollow of his cheeks. Your nose crinkles on instinct when he moves nearer, the heavy scent of cologne surrounding him like a cloud. He wasn’t ugly by any means, just the kind of handsome that only money could buy. You find yourself longing for the softness of full cheeks instead, of deep dimples that hold a promise.

“It’s an open bar.” You reply coolly and turn back around, finishing off the glass in your hand.

He chuckles, undeterred. “Alright, so no drink. Fancy a cigar?”

You fix your eyes determinedly in front of you. “I don’t smoke.”

“Pity. It would complement all this Bernini here perfectly.” He gestures to the glinting bronze and gold of the museum ceilings and you snort, unimpressed. Then there’s the click of the lighter and you glance at him again, shocked at his boldness.

“Sorry, sir, no smoking allowed.” Jay declares, tapping the stranger on the shoulder. The man’s mouth stretches, wolfish, and he turns to blow a ring in the bartender’s face.

“Careful, kid, I’ll have your job.” He sniggers, sucking in another breath of tobacco.

You curl your lips in disgust, contemplating the consequences of slapping the asshole right there, when your eyes land on the gold seal of the cigar in his hand. Cohiba Behike.

Pulse racing, you get up out of your seat and head towards the restroom, ignoring the stranger’s calls for your return. Struggling to keep your expression neutral, you whisper desperately into your earpiece.

“Tae, meet me in the ladies bathroom now.”

“I’m still cleaning up puke here.”

You clench your jaw and rip off the earpiece to speak directly into it. “Right the fuck now.”

The urgency in your voice gets across and minutes later, he finds you in the last stall, sitting on the toilet in your dress.

“What is it?” He leans against the stall door, crisp white waiter’s shirt drenched in rings of sweat from the exertion of mopping.

You release a breath. “I think I found him.”

“Found who?” Jungkook asks.

“The Dancer? You think you found The Dancer?” Namjoon follows up, frantic.

“Which one is he?” Taehyung looks ready run out and pounce, matted honey brown hair a boyish contrast to the gun you knew he had tucked in his waist.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure!” You’re frazzled by the multiple voices speaking at once, unsure of who to answer first. “The guy talking to me at the bar, he mentioned another artist from the same era, and then he pulled out a cigar-“

“So?”

“It was the same Cuban cigar that The Dancer always leaves behind, it can’t be a coincidence!”

Taehyung chews on his inner cheek. “I don’t think that’s enough. We haven’t witnessed him actually do anything.” Jungkook hums in agreement on the other end. There’s silence for a moment while the three of you wait on Namjoon’s vote.

“What does your gut tell you?” He asks softly.

You sigh and put your head in your hands, squeezing your eyes shut in thought. The throbbing hum returns at full force and it’s what convinces you. “It tells me that he’s in this building somewhere. That I’ve talked to him tonight. It has to be that guy.”

A beat, then: “Okay, we’re coming in.”

You stand up and nod at Taehyung, straightening your dress and pulling out your badge to brandish. He does the same and rolls his shoulders to ready himself, leading the way out. On the other side of the door, you’re met with chaos.

“It’s gone! It’s gone!”

“Did anyone see? Who could have-“

“Someone call the police!”

Blood running cold, you grab ahold of one of the museum employees as they run past. “What’s going on?”

The woman is frantic, sleek bun gone astray, glasses on the tip of her nose and threatening to fall off. “One of our most valuable pieces has just been stolen!”

Taehyung steps forward and thrusts his badge in her face. “Which one?”

“An antique necklace! Baroque!” The woman wails.

Your breath stutters in your chest and you drag your gaze back towards the bar. The stranger is still leaning against it, puffing on his cigar and watching the turmoil unfold in confusion.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“Good morning. I’d like to begin by congratulating our team of detectives on their job last night.”

A polite round of applause follows and Yoongi nods his head.

“Just really amazing work, you guys. The Dancer escaped from right under your nose with his loot not once, but twice.”

Sinking lower into your seat, you pull the hood of your sweatshirt over your head and tug on the ends until it tightens to hide your face. Beside you, Namjoon is staring determinedly down into his lap as if it hid the secret spell to magic him out the room.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that this case has been pushed to priority 1. The Dancer has no reason to stay in town now since all the works he’s been after are now gone, so we need to figure out where he is before he dips. Have I made myself clear?”

“Crystal.” Taehyung mutters, arms crossed over his chest.

The rest of the briefing carries on in its usual fashion, but Yoongi’s words go in one ear and out another. There’s a buzzing in your ears and your lip has become bruised from biting it so hard. Your leg is jittering under the table, knee knocking against the wood, until Namjoon reaches out to rest a hand on it.

You shift to look at him, but his gaze remains locked downwards. He squeezes once and leaves his hand there, preventing you from fidgeting anymore. You let it happen, loosening your teeth’s hold on your lip and the buzzing quieting down a little.

The briefing ends and everyone shuffles out of the room. The remainder of the day passes by in a blur of paperwork and collecting statements from witnesses. It did absolutely no good, however, since no one saw what happened. Or rather, no one could remember clearly what had happened. The museum staff’s plan of boozing up the gala’s attendees in order to get them to empty their pockets had the most undesirable effect in ensuring that nearly everyone was drunk and no one was a reliable witness. To make matters worse, the surveillance van’s camera lines had been hacked, so that the screens Namjoon and Jungkook were watching had really been just a repeating minute loop. There was no way to recover the lost data or get people to remember their night. The clock was ticking closer to the end of the day and you still had not figured out your next move.

Namjoon rubs his eyes and lets out a breath. “He had to have had inside access some how. Tae, you’re sure you didn’t see anyone or anything with the wait staff look out of ordinary?”

The man shakes his head, honey brown hair mussed from running his fingers through it in frustration. “Nothing. If anything, everyone couldn’t wait to leave.”

“We’re missing something, guys. C’mon, what is it?”

You stay quiet. It was your fault they had all been distracted, your fault there had been a brief window of time where the thief could go in and do the job. You were so sure you were right, something about the moment at the bar screaming that he was there in front of you. It was the first time your instinct had failed you and the knowledge of that shook you to the core. The rest of your team followed your dejected mood, Namjoon the only one still determined to tease out the solution somehow.

“We’re not giving up, we’ve gotten this far. Snap out of it!” He comes up to shake Jungkook on the shoulder, but the other man just brushed him off.

Seokjin walks by your team on your way out, yo-yo dangling from his finger. He pauses next to your desk and looks down at your forlorn face. “Why so glum, sugar plum?”

You hit refresh on the police database page profiling The Dancer, hoping it would miraculously reveal some new information, like his current whereabouts. “Sorry, Captain, we just kind of…”

“We don’t know what to do, sir,” Jungkook finishes for you. “We’re stuck and have no idea what’s next.”

Seokjin makes a noise of understanding and moves to sit on Taehyung’s desk, scattering piles of folders and papers astray. The captain pays no mind as the detective huffs, kneeling to reorganize the mess.

“Well, I certainly can’t let you leave before coming up with something concrete.”

All four of you groan, the possibility of overtime something you were trying to avoid.

“This isn’t even our case, sir!” Taehyung says from his spot on the floor.

“We’re a team, Detective. So their case is your case and you’re not going anywhere.” Seokjin replies righteously and looks around at each of your faces, desolate expressions still unchanged. He sighed and walked back to his office, returning moments later with a handle of rum and a couple of paper cups from the water cooler. He sets them down and proceeds to fill them up, all of you watching in shock.

“You just need to relax,” he says, handing off a cup of the amber liquid to each of you.

Namjoon coughs, uncomfortable. “Sir, is this really…appropriate?”

“Jesus, you really are uptight, Kim.” Seokjin chuckles. “This is what my generation would do when we hit a rut. Sit back, have a drink, and come back to the problem later with a fresh mind.”

You blink. “Captain, you’re barely older than us.”

He swings back his cup and grimaces at the taste. “And yet, so much wiser. Drink up, I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.” Gathering his belongings again, Seokjin tips his head in goodbye and walks out the door.

All of you watch him strut out, then turn back, eyes flitting between each person to see who would be the first to take the plunge.

“Fuck it,” Namjoon grumbles and downs his cup, filling it up again immediately after. Taehyung just whoops and follows in his stead. Jungkook sighs, then shrugs and does the same. They look expectantly in your direction; your mouth still dropped open in shock at the turn of events.

All you can do is groan and pick up your own cup in solidarity.

Hands slid over your body, from the nape of your neck down to your back. They were rough to the touch; palms calloused from years of gripping the handle of a gun. A leg is shoved between your own and a groan resounds through the room. Your breath turns into labored panting and your arms tremble in anticipation.

“Taehyung! Stop trying to knock me over, that’s cheating!” You’re holding yourself up on the mat, body posed in a bastardized downward dog, right foot on yellow and left hand on green.

Taehyung finds a way to lean over you and successfully plant his hand on blue, a winning grin on his face, eyes nearly becoming slits. He shifts his leg; movement threatening to tip your precarious position over and you jerk your head over your shoulder to glare at him.

“Where did you even manage to find Twister in here?” Jungkook hiccups, cheeks glowing red from the booze. He had tapped out of the game five minutes in, collapsing on his second turn after trying to execute a move to somehow get both his left foot and right hand on the same red circle.

“You’d be surprised at the shit they keep in evidence lock up,” Namjoon answers from his seat, legs splayed out and cup still in his hand. He had refused to play altogether, stiff attitude still unchanged even after having a couple drinks in his system. Instead, he preferred to watch you twist and turn according to the rules of the game, intent on beating Taehyung. The other man had drunk the least out of the four of you, rambunctious personality needing no more aid from alcohol. So his limbs remained adroit and nimble, easily able to coil himself to where his hands and feet needed to go. It was a stark difference from you, sheer determination and stubborn refusal to lose being the only things still keeping your body up when the rum sloshing around in your belly insisted you fold to the ground.

“Alright, right hand blue.” Jungkook calls out. Both you and Taehyung immediately go for the same circle, the closest one to either of you. His hand lands first, but yours falls right over it, all the weight of your entire body lending its pressure to push down against it. He yowls in pain and his knees buckle out of position, pulling his arm out from under yours to cradle it.

You scramble up and cheer. “I win!”

“No way, that was cheating! You broke my hand!” Taehyung whimpers, still massaging his sore fingers.

You scoff and get up, dusting off your knees and stretching out your arms. “If that was cheating, then so was the round where you tried tickling me so I would fall.”

The man’s only response is to stick out his tongue childishly. Chuckling, you move to pour yourself another drink when you realize the entire handle of alcohol was empty. “How did we manage to finish the whole thing?”

“Why are you asking as if you didn’t guzzle your first few cups like water?” Jungkook responds, eyes opening blearily, blush now extended to the tips of his ears.

“Just go buy some more,” Taehyung suggests, still cradling his hand. “The bodega around the corner sells Fireball, get us that. And some snacks while you’re at it.”

You snort but grab your wallet anyways. “Just because you designated this task to me doesn’t me I’m going to do it well. You’re getting some shitty Captain Morgan.” As you move towards the door, the sound of footsteps follows and you turn to face Namjoon. He nods at you, as if right there was exactly where he needed to be.

“Didn’t want you to go alone. It’s dark out.” He offers as an explanation.

You cock a brow. “I’m trained in two different kinds of martial arts and carry a gun.”

“Humor me.” He brushes past you to walk out, cool city air gusting into the police station for a moment before the door closes shut again. Your lips purse before you follow the man out into the street. The two of you walk for a few minutes in silence, sounds of bustling metropolitan life around you providing the background music. At a cross walk, you stop to wait for the light to turn and decide to glance at the officer next to you, his features doused in the sallow light of the street lamps.

His jaw is sharp, regal. It’s a contrast to the softness of his cheeks, the pillowy padding of his lips. Though his expression was neutral now, you knew that if he turned his lips up in a smile, two twin dimples would appear on either side, deep and unforgiving. Your eyes drag up to the gentle curve of his nose, then to the straight line of his dark brows drawn against the tan of his skin. Though it pained you to admit, Namjoon is handsome. Always was handsome, it was the first thought that run through your vodka muddled mind when you first laid eyes on him years ago in that bar. He looked exactly as he did now, though his dress shirt had a few buttons undone then, collar splayed open to reveal the blush creeping up his chest. You hazily remember the clutch of his hands on your hips, the bite of his teeth when they sank into the skin of your neck-

“See something you like?”

You blink, startled out of your reprieve, only to see Namjoon’s back as he strolled across the street. The cross walk signed glared in front of you, little green walking man taunting. Shaking your head, you jog to catch up to him, already walking into the entrance of the bodega.

“You were just waiting for the perfect moment to say that, weren’t you?” The bell of the door rings as you enter and you find him standing in the beer aisle, inspecting a 6 pack of Bud Lights.

“I mean, you also were staring.” He decides on Natty Light instead and picks it out, turning to face you. “I know I’m devastatingly good looking, but you need to be a little more discrete with your ogling.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, embarrassed at being caught. “I was looking at your hair, dorkus. Was considering calling NASA since that shit is defying gravity.”

His smile softens, then falls from his face slowly, expression turning serious. “I wanted to apologize.”

You jerk your head back, perplexed. “What are you talking about?”

He shifts from one foot to another, clearly a little unsure. “I mean for how I’ve been treating you. And not just since we started working together on this case.”

Your mind goes blank and your nose fills with the scent of peppermint as he shifts a little closer. There’s no way he’s talking about what you’re thinking of, right?

“I haven’t been fair to you.” Namjoon continues, still holding your gaze firmly. “I know I called you overconfident, but so am I. On the first day, I came in all cocky and that ruined what we could have had between us.”

I can’t believe he actually admitted it. Your heart rate picks up speed at his words. A beat passes and though you have no reply prepared, your mouth opens-

“I shouldn’t have been so stubborn on that first case. I was so sure I was right just because I know I got the highest scores on the detective’s exam. I didn’t stop to listen to you and if I just had, we could have caught the guy-“

Your mouth snaps shut in confusion. “What?”

“The credit fraud guy? The first case we had together? You talked about how people don’t take you seriously and I realized I did the same thing all those years ago and that’s how this whole stupid feud started-“

You can hardly hear the sound of your own voice when you speak over the loud ringing in your ears, anger slipping over you like a shadow. “Namjoon, you think I hate you because of the fucking credit fraud case?”

His brows furrow and his mouth hangs open dumbly. “I-what? Yeah, what do you think I was-“

“Just go pay.” You turn your face up and keep your gaze locked above, fighting back the prickling feeling behind your eyes. A long moment passes as you and Namjoon stand there in the aisle, an awkward silence enveloping the two of you. He breaks first and eventually leaves you to stand there alone, moving towards the cash register.

You release the breath you had been holding and open a freezer door to stick your face in, determined to dry out the wetness growing in your eyes. Counting down from a hundred, you stand there and wait until you were sure your voice wouldn’t shake when you spoke.

Inhale. Exhale.

After picking your head up and closing the freezer door, you grab a random bag of chips and pay for them at the counter. You smile, thank the cashier, collect your change, and walk out to see Namjoon still standing there, waiting for you. He looks like there’s more he would like to say, but you don’t give him the chance before turning and heading in the direction of the station. He catches up easily, your brisk pace no match for his long legs. But thankfully, he decides to keep quiet.

The two of you reach the station after what feels like hours, the silence between you dragging out the seconds. You reach for the door, determined not to get caught outside in another failed conversation with Namjoon, when you catch sight of someone leaning against the brick wall of the police station. Brows furrowing, you pause. Namjoon does too, eyes flitting between you and the person.

“I’m going to stay out here for a second.”

Namjoon glances at you, but concedes, most likely thinking you need a moment alone and were using questioning the poor innocent guy probably just waiting for someone as an excuse. You watch the door swing shut behind him before walking up to darkly clad figure.

“Are you waiting for someone?”

The man’s head rises and at this angle, you can now see under the cap that shaded his face, revealing a small smile.

“Yeah, you can say that.”

The lift of his cheeks and the crinkle of his eyes ring familiar.

“Do I…know you?” It comes out of you in a staccato, hesitant lest this random stranger be only just that.

His smile widens and he turns to fully face you. “Don’t have the best observation skills, do you, detective?”

You squint at him. “How do you know what I am?”

He tilts his head, eyes watching you like a bird in a cage. “In my line of work, I’ve learned to pick out cops from a mile away. Besides, you made it pretty obvious when we met. Picked out the best vantage point in the room to observe everyone, just like someone on a stakeout. I just had to come by and see if my guess about you was right. Settle a bet with myself, you can say.”

A throbbing hum fills your head and you straighten, arms folding over your chest. He mirrors your motions, smile never leaving his face. His gaze unnervingly never left your own and you racked your brain, trying to figure out where you had seen him before.

“C’mon, detective,” he teases, voice lilting, “Surely someone as smart as you can figure it out.”

His teeth appear, pearly white and straight. The motion turns his eyes into crescents and accentuates his high cheekbones, the slope of his nose.

You’re wary to speak, unsure of what the feeling in your head meant, before the realization came crashing back into your mind. “Jay?”

“Bingo!” He laughs and claps his hand onto your shoulder. You’re startled by the action, but if he noticed, he didn’t care. “Though I don’t really answer to that name, I’ll let you call me whatever you’d like.” His grip slides down your arm to the side of your torso and you’re made suddenly aware of the firearm you have sheathed under your jacket. As his hand inches closer, you jerk away like you were burned and take a step back.

“What are you doing here? How did you know where I work?”

He raises his hands up, palms towards you, as if he was calming a nervous animal. “I guess you can say it’s my job to find special things. I’d love to tell you all about it, but I have a meeting to run off to.”

Your head is absolutely pounding now, your vision practically vibrating as you watch him pick his back up off the wall. Panicked, you blurt out, “I’m a cop and I’m telling you to stay here.”

He laughs, the sound hollow in the suddenly deserted street. “We both know that doesn’t mean anything. Besides, this is a very important businessman I can’t keep waiting. Most important in this whole damn city and you know what rich people are like. Think their money can buy our time.” He winks and steps around you to leave, the faint smell of smoke following him.

You’re left frozen for a split second, trying to piece together all of what he said. Then your instinct kicks in and your limbs move, turning to follow him. Your lungs whine in discomfort as your feet pick up into a run before your mind even realizes what was happening, skidding around the corner to chase after the mysterious man. But when you make the turn, he’s nowhere to be seen. The road is empty and there isn’t a soul in sight for blocks. There is only you on the empty sidewalk, soaked in the yellow light of the lamp and an insistent hum in your ears letting you know you’ve found what you’ve been looking for. You spend a moment more standing there before turning back to push open the doors to the station and find your team. The three of them look up at you, cheeks ruddy and mouths stretched in the ghost of a laugh before they catch the determined look on your face.

“I know where he’s going to be tonight.”

e/n: i genuinely enjoyed writing this so much and can’t wait for the next part! come tell me your thoughts :)

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