#kji x reader

Over the years, you managed to get through securities of many buildings without worry. It was kind of a talent of yours, one you nourished with knowledge gathered on YouTube channels, books found in local libraries, and carefully analyzing the most famous theft cases you managed to get your hands on.

You meant no harm, really, although you knew that the people working here would spend days pondering over what happened. And their confusion, as well as the news announced in the media, would be all well worth it – because you never stole anything and only took pleasure in creating chaos.

And one more thing that brought you even more pleasure, was the presence of all those beautiful things that you would have no other opportunity to be this close to otherwise, although temporarily and just to see what they were like in real life.

You were literally a magpie for shiny things. A magpie that didn’t feel the need to steal them – just to enjoy them.

The diadem felt too light in your hands, although it looked well-made and not something that would fall apart easily. Yet, it was an antique, and you hoped you wouldn’t damage it on accident. You stepped in front of a nearby mirror – a part of some other exhibition, to be precise – and gently placed the piece on top of your head, straightening yourself proudly.

The only source of light was the white streetlights coming from the outside, but your eyes were already accustomed and you managed to convince your mind that it was not streetlights, but a beautiful moonshine, like in a story about magic, covens and astral creatures. Maybe the diadem’s colors didn’t match your complexion all that well, and the shining of the rhinestones only highlighted the imperfections of your skin and hair, but at this exact moment, for these precious minutes, you were on top of the world.

You stared at the mirror a bit too long before you realized that far behind you, leaning against a column, there was a silhouette you absolutely did not spot before.

You froze with your fingers still touching the diadem on your head.

You looked straight ahead, your eyes fixated on the person in the background of your reflection, its shape slowly becoming more and more evident, and you only pondered as to how could you not have spotted him before?

The man stood there with his arms crossed. He had a police uniform on, although you barely saw it in the sparse light. He looked composed, as if not even slightly bothered with the presence of a wanted criminal responsible for dozens of high-priority break-ins.

You turned around slowly and raised your hands, the diadem on your head tilting slightly, and you did your best to not make any frantic movements as to not let it fall off. You knew you had to be careful now – not only for this reason. You were not a good fighter, he could take you down so easily. You needed to play this part smart.

“Hello, officer” you laughed awkwardly. The man tilted his head to the side. Your eyes were accustomed enough to be able to see him well despite the distance, and you noted a small, curious smile appear in the corner of his lip.

You frowned. Minutes had already passed since you arrived, and you two were there still all alone, no back-up called, no noise of police sirens. The fact that you got caught was already unexpected, but this situation also didn’t seem like what you’d imagined your final defeat to be.

“So, um…” Should you start a discussion? Or a fight? Or just run? Or throw the diadem and run in the opposite direction? Dammit, but you couldn’t risk damaging it. No, you had to make sure the treasure was safe first. “What brings you here, actually?” you spoke as nonchalantly as you were able to, very slowly stepping toward the exhibition table. Unfortunately, it shortened the distance between you and him as well, and you felt yourself become small and defenseless against his strong, even though still silent, presence. You did your best to avoid any rapid movements as you took the diadem gently off your head and placed it neatly back on the exhibition. The man observed you without a word, allowing you to finish your deed, as though watching an animal in a cage – not wanting to interrupt its natural instincts and eager to find out what would it do in those peculiar circumstances.

“Curiosity, probably” he finally spoke and you shuddered at his deep voice vibrating through the air.

“Curiosity, huh… Well, what are you curious about then, kind sir?” you questioned, forcing your voice sound cocky to boost your confidence. It almost worked.

“Well, I’m very curious about the skilled thief who has been breaking into museums all over the country and not even once stole anything. I almost wonder how many break-ins did we not even notice happening.”

You laughed awkwardly. It sounded like a praise in your ears and you couldn’t help but get a bit shy at the thought. But you quickly reminded yourself of the circumstances.

“So, how did you exactly know where to look for me?” you asked, now the one being curious.

“You don’t steal anything, but you always touch… something. You have a pattern” he explained in a matter-of-fact voice. “For pretty things. For shiny things. I wasn’t sure, but now I can see, why.” He glanced at the diadem, lifting one eyebrow, as if making fun of your peculiar behavior he had the chance to see earlier. You pressed your lips tightly, feeling caught red-handed in more than one way. “Is that really just it? That you enjoy seeing yourself in these things?”

You shrugged.

“Yeah, kind of. It’s just… you know, kind of a freeing experience. Touching the things no one else can, seeing yourself how no one else could.” You stared at the diadem with sentiment. “And knowing that people’s gonna be confused shitless after finding out. I have a pretty boring life otherwise.” He stared at you, clearly disbelieving that your reasoning could be this silly and simple-minded. You felt a bit weird, sharing such deep thoughts with a policeman who could only bring harm upon you at the moment, but somehow, you didn’t feel like a criminal. More of like a child caught playing with their mom’s jewelry when nobody’s home.

But the officer only shook his head, taking his time to collect his thoughts. You felt like he’s judging you in his mind. What could he possibly ask next? If you haven’t thought about what if you get caught? Come on, he must have heard people talk about that thousands of times in his career of a police officer.

Besides, it’s not like it mattered at that point.

“Why don’t you steal them, then?” he asked.

“Because stealing is bad” you deadpanned. “Duh.”

The man was clearly starting to lose his mind at the conversation, and it gave you a bit of satisfaction knowing it was no longer him in charge of the talk. Even though you still had no doubt that he was in charge of the situation as a whole.

“So is burglary. But you’re a skilled burglar. Why won’t you use your skill for something safer? Something that would bring you material benefit?”

“What exactly are you implying, huh?” You tilted your head to the side, genuinely intrigued.

“That if you’re arrested, your only line of getting out of prison sentence may be to trade your freedom for your skill.”

You felt your face heat up. Maybe you were skilled burglar, but making a living out of it? Having someone watch you and make use of something you considered a hobby…? That was messing with your thoughts way too much, and your mind just refused to acknowledge such a possibility.

“Well, I would rather not get any sentence, so since I haven’t stolen anything, why won’t you just let me leave?”

He sighed, scratching the back of his head.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Well” you shrugged. “Have fun with the exhibition then, and I’ll see my way out-”

You managed to make three towards the entry.

Just three steps, not a single one more, before something hit the back of your knees, knocking you down fast and effectively. You let out a small, confused whimper when you fell face first onto the clean, tiled museum floor.

The man crouched down, pressing his knee into your lower back, gently enough to not hurt you, but firmly enough so that you knew that fighting him was not an option. No hurry, no rough or frantic movements. You breathed heavily. Being overpowered so fast and so easily felt surreal.

“Don’t try anything.” Something in his voice felt soothing, as if – once again – you were an animal, but this time caught wandering a bit too deep into the human habitat. Were you to be taken into a warm house and domesticated by the animal rescue, or killed quickly and quietly by the heartless poacher?

He pulled your hands back, and the clinging of handcuffs woke you up from the daze. You recoiled, using all your strengths and pent up energy to try and throw him off yourself.

“Shh… easy there.” He presses you down a bit stronger. You whimpered helplessly.

“Let me…” You tried to stop him from immobilizing your hands, and finally kicked your legs up, managing to somehow knock the handcuffs out of his fingers. “...GO!” It was a mere moment, just one second-long chance to get out of his grasp, and you used it to your advantage, pushing him off yourself and simultaneously getting up on trembling legs. Your pulse was so loud it drowned out his voice – whatever he was saying – and you didn’t bother looking back as you strode towards the exit, quick steps turning into a sprint when you realized he can and will try and catch up to you.

You got in here through a window in the roof and that was the only way out you could rely on.

You ran up the stairs at the back of the exhibition room, and you already heard heavy steps right behind when in your frantic steps, your foot stepped at an unfortunate angle that made you lose your balance. From a chaotic climb up the stairs, suddenly you were tumbling down the high construction, on your way down bumping into the man and sending him falling down along with you.

With a heavy thud, your and policeman’s bodies collapsed onto the floor at the very bottom of the stairs. The entire museum suddenly fell silent.

It took a few very long moments of laying down motionlessly before you dared to move your muscles.

Everything hurt, especially your knees that you must have bruised up while falling. The world was still spinning when you forced yourself up.

That’s when you saw the policeman laying motionlessly a few steps from you, facing upwards and with a deep gash on his forehead that made you gasp at the sight.

“Oh no. Oh fuck, no, no…” You didn’t think twice, crawling to him, although your own head was still spinning and your legs hurt when moving. “Hey, hey, officer, wake up!”

You shook him by his shoulders and the man mumbled something incoherent. You screamed inside, realizing that you could not possibly leave him there. In the long hours that would pass before the museum opened in the morning, the damage his body suffered from could turn irreversible, and you just could not stand the thought of having him on your conscience.

Not wasting any more time, you pulled out the phone from his pants’ pocket. His hand moved slightly, reaching to wave you off, as if trying to prevent you from stealing it, because what other thought could he possibly have about you browsing through his pockets, right? But he was still too weak and confused to impose a threat and you just nudged his hand away, dialing the emergency number.

Your heart was beating fast and you felt nauseous. While giving the details and the address to the operator, you felt like your entire life was falling apart.

“Miss, what is your name?”

You knew there was no way to stop it now, that too much has happened to escape the consequences any longer. Your hands trembled when you answered the question, and once the ambulance is on the way echoed in your ear, you didn’t wait for the further instructions before hanging up on the operator and throwing the phone away from yourself.

You couldn’t think straight any longer. Was there a way for you to still make a run for it?

What if you just left? Went far away, somewhere people won’t know your name? You could just survive.

You were about to get up and run back up your escape route when you felt something grasp your wrist.

You looked down. The officer stared at you way more consciously now, and, although still laying down on the floor, his hold on your wrist was strong.

“Please, let me go…” you whimpered.

“You can’t run forever” he mumbled, voice barely audible. “Just let it happen. You’ll be okay. I promise.”

You wouldn’t listen. If only you had a choice, you would pry his hand off yourself and still run, because the levels of fear and panic in you were way higher than any reason or even consideration for what he meant.

But you heard a clinging of metal when with remains of strength, the man handcuffed your wrist to his own.

You sobbed, feeling tears roll down your cheeks.

With your mind slowly becoming numb, you only sat there in the sound of your own cries, waiting for the ambulance and the police to finally arrive

* * *

One month later.

Back in the days, you’d work at a small convenience store. The job didn’t pay well, and neither did it give you any satisfaction to do. The floor was always dirty beyond the capacity to be cleaned, and the windows were covered with dull advertisements in annoying, fake colors. The only thing that brought a smile to your face was when new alcohol would be delivered, because the few more expensive brands that your store sold had such pretty bottles, and you’d spend the lazy parts of your shift with your vision tunneled on the crystal-like surfaces. Back then, you didn’t think anything as pretty would be achievable for you to look at on a daily basis.

But the tall office building you stood in front of was covered in dark glass that reflected the setting sun in the most beautiful of ways, and as you looked through the windows of the ground floor, the restaurant inside had the prettiest little bulbs as a part of their decoration, and behind the bar counter, there were bottles of alcohol that appeared to be kept clean at all times, and so it was yet another thing that reflected the light. And the building’s windows were clean, too.

So that’s how it could have looked like, you thought to yourself.

It would be a lie to say that you could consider a better job, were you not to have that particular skill of yours. In fact, you were almost certain that you would never even get close to a place like this, if not all that happened. Was it worth all the stress and bruises, on both your body and your mind, that incurred in the process? You couldn’t agree, but neither could you disagree with such a statement.

“You like it?”

You jumped at the voice that sounded out right behind you, almost dropping the newly acquired laptop bag held tightly in your arms.

“Jongin? What are you doing here?”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him wear a T-shirt before, it was always the uniform. But today the man looked different, and you wondered what brought him to this place. It was also the first time since the museum that you saw him without a band aid on his forehead, and although the scar was still there, you were glad to see it healing well.

“I wanted to see how’s it going. Are they treating you well?”

You snorted at that, although the tips of your ears got a bit red when you realized he came all this way just to see you.

“They’re nicer than I thought, to be honest. I always imagined corporate work would be… more stiff. But I’ve been here for a week, I don’t know if I like it yet. I’m still at work safety trainings, I don’t even know what exactly I’ll be doing” you shrugged, trying to sound unbothered. But for a fact, you were actually quite stressed out with all the things happening recently. “And they pay me better than I thought they will, you know, considering I have no choice but to work there…” you added a bit quieter, lowering your head. You still felt ashamed of the situation you found yourself in. Accepting the job offer was your only way to avoid prison. The judge took into consideration that the harm you’ve done was relatively marginal. 

And Jongin’s testimony about you staying with his injured self at the museum also took a great part in getting you as merciful of a sentence as it was only possible in the circumstances given. You still had to report regularly to the local police office (and, frankly, you didn’t mind, because it was the one Jongin himself worked at).

“But I think it will be fun. A bit. Or maybe not too boring” you pondered. “I’ll be joining some team that checks security measures for the insurance provider. It sounds so serious, you know? I mean, I was a convenience store cashier before. This is so fancy in comparison. But how will I even tell my family how I got this job? Hey mom, I broke into a museum but I didn’t steal anything so they hired me” you continued to blabber.

Jongin watched you with a warm smile.

You could tell he’s proud of himself. And even though you didn’t know if it was the best outcome for you, you felt like it was the best outcome for him. He not only caught the burglar he was after – apparently – for months, but he also managed to get them to change their ways.

You had to admit, his personal charm did play a role in making you more eager to cooperate.

“So, did you come here just to ask about my job, or…?”

The man pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

“Actually, I wanted to ask if you’d like to eat a dinner together.”

You stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded.

“A dinner?”

Is this a…? No way.

“Yeah, there’s a nice place I wanted to show you.”

“Nicer than that private museum I visited three months ago?” you teased, at which the officer rolled his eyes, letting out a shaky laugh.

“It’s a fancy restaurant that we had an office party at once.” That didn’t sound too encouraging. “They have crystal chandeliers all over the ceiling.”

Your eyes widened in excitement and you almost felt yourself salivate.

“Let’s go there.”

The man laughed warmly.

“Now that I think about it, I’m not sure if I’m not overpaying. You’d be as happy with the lighting section at home depot” he announced, giving back on the teasing jokes you started.

“You won’t tell me there’s a single person on the earth that doesn’t like the lighting section at home depot.”

At that, he laughed even louder, and you weren’t really sure whether you should feel shy or offended. But your face was getting redder with every word he spoke, and your heart was beating just a bit faster at the sound of his laugh. After the circumstances the two of you met in, any interaction now felt surreal.

“What about you?” you decided to change the topic. “You had some days off because of… you know.” You vaguely pointed at his forehead. “Are you a hero now? Are you getting a raise?”

It was Jongin’s time to look awkward, and he scratched the back of his head, frowning.

“Not really, I actually got scolded for the lone investigation and camping at the museum without anyone’s approval. But since things turned out fine, I’m not really in trouble, so I guess it’s okay. It could have ended much worse.”

“If you didn’t catch me?”

“For example.” You weren’t really upset with him for doing his job, but it seemed that he was still a bit nervous mentioning it. “But, I mean, since I did catch you…” he smoothly changed the tone and pointed back at his car parked nearby. “Let’s go, I have the table booked.”

You raised your eyebrows, feeling challenged with his statement.

“Oh, really?” You huffed. “Well, this time I think I could run off pretty easily.”

Jongin pressed his lips together, as if hesitating. Then, with a mischievous smile, he leaned over, nodding downwards. You glanced down, confused, and he tilted up the edge of his jacket, displaying a pair of handcuffs secured by his belt.

You let out a small “oh”.

“Or would you rather I catch you again?”

And although this argument was enough to convince you not to dare him any further, you just had a feeling that the museum would not be the last place Jongin’s handcuffs would end up in use.

Woohoo, two fanfics in one weekend! Hope you guys enjoyed it!