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cinebration · 3 years

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What I Mean (Sherlock Holmes x Reader) [Request]

Hi lovely! Love love LOVE your work! You’ve got some truly amazing stories 💝 would I be able to request a Henry!Sherlock Holmes x reader one shot where the reader has feelings for Sherlock but thinks that he doesn’t like her at all? — Requested by anon

Warnings: none

Gif Source: acecroft

The first time you saw Sherlock, you fell in love. It wasn’t because of how he looked or how he carried himself. It was how he brushed past that insufferable Constable Lowell, ignoring the man’s protests with a wave of his hand. The way Lowell became flustered and upset and the way DI Lestrade laughed at him made your heart swell in your chest. After the last five months of verbal bullying from the constable, you were supremely satisfied to see him humiliated.

Sherlock frequently appeared unexpectedly at Scotland Yard. You learned to recognize his presence in the building before you ever saw him. There was something about the way he moved through the place, like it was of little consequence, that you could feel. It reminded you of being caught out in a storm with lightning striking nearby, the hair on your arms rising as static built up in the air.

You didn’t meet Sherlock until your fourth month of employment. What had started as a typing job had turned into secretarial work—with no increase in pay to account for your extra duties. You strode into Lestrade’s office with a thin smile and said, “If I’m going to be mitigating your literacy blunders, I expect to be compensated.”

“That’s out of the question. You are a typist and are paid accordingly.”

“Well, then, in that case…” You dumped a huge stack of folders in front of him. “I don’t need to inventory these.”

Lestrade stared at the stack in displeasure.

“Oh, and they haven’t been properly sorted. I’m only meant to type, not to organize your chaos.”

“Now wait.”

“I expect a ten-percent increase. That’s what a proper secretary gets paid. Oh, and the title. I want everyone to know I am not a mere typist.”

The muscle in his jaw jumping, Lestrade reluctantly agreed. Sweeping the files up in your arms, you strode out of the room, light on your heels.

Sherlock leaned beside the door, a faint smirk playing on his lips. You stumbled, surprised by his appearance.

“I thought I was the only one who could so easily maneuver Lestrade,” he said.

“He makes it too easy,” you managed to say.

Sherlock’s eyes skimmed the files. “They’re already organized, I see.”

“The trick is making him think only I can do this job.”

“Clever.” Then he was in Lestrade’s office discussing a case, leaving you standing there flushed.

Sherlock took to greeting you cordially each time he passed by your desk after the incident with Lestrade. Sometimes he didn’t meet with Lestrade at all, instead opting to leave you with a message for the detective inspector. Sherlock never spent long at your desk, much to your disappointment, but the few minutes he spared you each time were enough to make you float the rest of the day.

You had taken it upon yourself to have all the necessary information on all of Lestrade’s cases close at hand. Sherlock often appeared to ask Lestrade for information regarding something he had read in the paper or heard from others. The first time you furnished him with a small envelope of the relevant information, you had been pleased to see genuine surprise in the consulting detective’s face.

“You are quite indispensable,” he remarked. “I don’t know how Lestrade managed anything before you.”

“Poorly, I would imagine.”

“I heard that!”

Smothering a laugh with your hand, you settled back at your desk and tried to think of something else to say to make Sherlock linger for a few moments. Before you could, he dipped his head and left.

You didn’t know why you kept entertaining the idea of interacting properly with Sherlock. The society rumor mill claimed the man was impossible to nail down and seemed uninterested in any of the ladies. It was supposed he, being an eccentric, was possibly too obsessed with his sleuthing hobby and therefore poor marriage material anyway.

Still, you flirted with the idea until you saw him interact with his sister, Enola. He smiled at her and praised her for a particularly thorny case she had unraveled.

Oh, you thought with dismay, feeling all hope leave you. He treats me like his sister.

The realization settled deep in your bones. It had been fruitless all along, the special treatment you had accorded him, the way he seemed pleased with you.

Of course he was pleased with you, you snarled inwardly. You helped him with his work. Even he suffers Lestrade in order to do that. You are nothing but a convenient secretary he doesn’t need to pay.

You couldn’t bear the thought of making things difficult for him, however, so you continued to keep the case information neatly organized and accessible. While everything in you had changed, the only outward sign of it was a sudden coolness toward him. You no longer smiled easily when he arrived, and you spent most of your time avoiding his gaze, busying yourself with tasks at your desk.

If he noticed, he gave no sign. It was as you had thought. You were of little consequence to him.

A year after being hired, you considered quitting. There was a small detective agency in need of female detectives to uncover unfaithful wives and husbands for divorce proceedings. It would get you away from the stifling atmosphere of Scotland Yard, where the likes of Lowell and his ilk still roamed unchecked. You could do with a change.

You could do with an escape from a certain debonair consultant.

“You can’t leave,” Lestrade declared. “I won’t allow it.”

“Did I sign a contract, sir?”

“No, but why would that—”

“Then I am under no obligation to continue working for you.”

Lestrade sputtered, trying to refute you. “You’re needed here.”

“I know a woman who is as adept as I am at this work.”

“But—”

“I’ve made my decision, detective. Please leave me to it.”

You remained only to show your replacement the way of things and to warn her about Lowell and the others. Only then did you leave and seek a posting in the detective agency.

A day after you had applied and been accepted, you arrived to work in your work clothes, fully expecting to be sent somewhere to survey a cheating spouse. As you walked through the door, you heard exclamations from within.

“Mr. Holmes! What an honor it is to have you grace our establishment.”

You froze in the doorway, heart hammering in your chest. Sherlock’s broad back was turned to you, his face in three-quarter profile. You wanted to flee, to escape the magnetic pull you felt in your presence.

Your new employer saw you past Sherlock’s shoulder. “Ah, here she is.” Waving you over, he watched you walk stiffly down the hallway, your hands clenched into nervous fists by your sides.

Sherlock turned to you, fixing you with those striking blue eyes. You felt trapped beneath them, sucked in their magnetism once more. Swallowing thickly, you nodded. “Mr. Holmes.”

He smiled tentatively at you, revealing the point of a canine.

“Mr. Holmes has requested you for an investigation,” you employer said. “I offered him Miss Hemmings, of course, she being our finest, but he insisted on you.”

The hair on the back of your neck rose. Resisting the urge to scratch, you asked, “Did he?”

“I did. Now, if we could go? We are wasting time.”

Fighting the disappointment rising in you, you followed Sherlock out the door and into a transom. Enclosed in the small space, you couldn’t avoid his scent, a pleasing mix of tobacco smoke and something else. You avoided his gaze, folding and refolding your hands in your lap.

“You left Scotland Yard.”

A statement. You nodded but didn’t offer anything more. “Where are we going?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

You frowned, lifted your head. “I beg your pardon?”

“Did I do something incorrect?” A crease appeared between the man’s eyebrows. “Your demeanor toward me changed in the two months leading up to your resignation.”

Toying with the fingers of your gloves, you felt panic clawing up your throat. He had noticed. What did that mean?

“I can only conclude that something occurred, but I can’t determine what.”

You met his concerned eyes. “I…it doesn’t matter, Mr. Holmes. I can do whatever job you need me to with as much professional courtesy as it requires.”

His lips pulled into a thin frown. “That isn’t what I’m asking.”

“I don’t know what you mean, then.”

“Please, you are smarter than that. Or was my regard for you misplaced?”

You blinked in surprise, unsure you had heard correctly. “It…isn’t my place to tell you where to place your regard.”

He laughed then, a sudden HA that made you jump. “You are making this difficult, aren’t you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I am not given over to emotionalism, but I won’t deny that your treatment of me in those last months affected me.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“What I mean to say is that I had hoped we were developing a familiarity.” His hand went to his collar, adjusting it. “I had hoped to…call on you.”

Your head snapped up in surprise. “To call on me?”

“I had thought my feeling for you was returned, but if I am mistaken, please inform me now to save us both further embarrassment.”

You could hardly speak around the tightness in your throat. “It is returned.”

The smile on Sherlock’s face made your heart ache. “Good. I’m glad we have remedied that. Now, if we’re both to be detectives, then I suppose we had best collaborate. I need you to spy on Richard Haskell. It seems…”

#Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock Holmes imagine #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill imagine #Henry!Holmes #Henry!Sherlock #Enola Holmes #requests

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pennylaneforthoughts · 3 years

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After some thinking, a conversation with my sister-in-law with a psych degree, and a couple of sessions with my godsend of a therapist, I think I've finally put my finger on the thing about Mobius that Loki (and a lot of the fandom tbh) so quickly latched onto like a man dying of thirst at the first sign of water:

Unconditional positive regard.

This concept is at the core of client-centered psychology and basically is a stance that a therapist will take in relation to their client, where they simply accept and support their client as a person, regardless of what they do or say.

My therapist uses this framework with me, and when the Loki series came out, I immediately saw Mobius and was like "holy crap, this man has the exact same energy as Sami what???" And I couldn't for the life of me figure out why until I was talking about it with my sister-in-law and she mentioned unconditional positive regard. And then it clicked.

Mobius radiates unconditional positive regard from the minute he meets Loki in episode 1, and arguably even from the first time we even see him onscreen. He approaches everyone he interacts with using a basic framework of "I see you and care about you as a person, and nothing you do or say can change that," so we immediately get the impression that this man is soft, kind, and shaped like a friend. However, it's most obvious and pointed in his interactions with Loki.

While yes, Mobius' primary objective in episode 1 is to interrogate Loki, it's important to note that it's not an interrogation where Mobius is trying to find proof of guilt for a crime like we'd see in a typical detective procedural. Rather, Mobius is trying to see if this variant of Loki is self aware enough to be able to help him in his hunt for Sylvie. It's fundamentally a test to find out Loki's current place in his emotional and psychological development. It is not maliciously intended, and it is not designed to harm Loki. On the contrary, the intent is clearly to help Loki begin to come to terms with the reality of who he is and the choices he has made.

In fact, the whole time this is happening, Mobius very purposefully strives to foster an environment where Loki knows that A.) Mobius sees him. Truly sees and knows him. B.) Despite knowing what Loki is and what he's done, Mobius loves him and regards him positively, and C.) nothing Loki can do or say will change that positive regard.

Loki, however, is super not used to receiving unconditional positive regard. He has no idea how to respond to it. He feels like it's a trick, like there's another shoe just waiting to drop. I related to him hardcore in this scene because that's exactly how I felt when my therapist presented me with unconditional positive regard for the first time. It's confusing and strange and difficult to believe at first. Especially because it sets the stage for honest self reflection and personal growth that can be incredibly painful.

Loki is not a perfectly innocent person. He has done a lot of really bad things and hurt a lot of people in his life. He has a lot of very deep seated trauma that has informed these actions, but he still made those choices and he needs to take responsibility for them. This is not a fun process. Mobius knows this is actually a really awful, sucky process. But he also knows that change and growth requires two things: acknowledgement that a change needs to be made and the expectation that change can and will occur when properly cultivated. Mobius clearly laying out the reality of Loki's actions and who he is in the Sacred Timeline is the first part of that equation, and his unflappable, unconditional positive regard towards Loki as a person despite knowing that reality cultivates an environment for the second part to flourish.

"By definition, it is essential in any helping relationship to have an anticipation for change. In the counseling relationship, that anticipation presents as Hope—an optimism that something good and positive will develop to bring about constructive change in the client's personality. Thus, unconditional positive regard means that the therapist has and shows overall acceptance of the client by setting aside their own personal opinions and biases. The main factor in unconditional positive regard is the ability to isolate behaviors from the person who displays them." (source)

Mobius is not Loki's therapist, but he does take on a therapeutic role in Loki's life. He shows Loki that he is fully aware of all of Loki's faults and mistakes. He's seen them over and over again and knows them by heart because it's his job. And in the face of all of that he looks at Loki and says that he doesn't see him as a villain. That he likes him anyway and believes that Loki has the potential to help him and what he believes is the cause of good. (Yes the TVA is corrupt, but neither of them know that at this point, and the fact that both Mobius and Loki believe this to be the side of good to varying degrees is important here)

Mobius maintains this regard throughout the series and his subsequent interactions with Loki and when talking about Loki to Ravonna and others, and it's a big part of why Loki so quickly trusts and feels comfortable around Mobius. I know some people say it's unrealistic how fast it was, but it made a lot of sense just based on my experience. I mean, after one (1) session with my therapist, I was 100% ride or die for him, and it was kind of absurd. But the feeling of being seen like that is so potent when you're starved for it, that extreme reactions to it make a lot of sense. And if anyone's starved for unconditional positive regard, it's Loki.

Mobius is only human though, and he's not perfect at this. Over the course of the series, it's clear that Mobius has emotionally invested a lot in his Loki, and he struggles to maintain a professional distance, though he usually is able to keep his head enough to give Loki that positive regard he needs. The only time we see this regard slip is in episode 4 when Mobius is feeling betrayed and jealous. In these moments, Mobius is unable to step back from his feelings enough to get into a headspace where he can separate Loki's actions from who he is. He calls Loki an asshole and a bad friend, and it comes from a place of hurt and jealousy. It's also what drives Loki into a defensive mode we haven't seen since episode 1. He's no longer receiving that unconditional positive regard from Mobius and he feels betrayed. He worries that maybe it was all an act in the first place and Mobius never really cared for him at all. For the first time, Loki feels like Mobius doesn't see the best in him anymore and it hurts.

Mobius' unconditional positive regard was genuine, though, and this is reinforced in the subsequent scenes where we see him act on his instinctual desire to assume the best of Loki and investigate his claims. We see it again when he returns to Loki and he reaffirms both his desire to trust Loki and his belief that Loki can be "whoever, whatever he wants to be, even someone good." At this point, Loki is able to accept it and no longer pushes back against Mobius' belief in Loki's goodness and that he "has within himself vast resources for self-understanding, for altering his self-concept, attitudes, and self-directed behavior." He's grown and begun to see himself in a more realistic and positive light and it's a direct result of the time Mobius has spent cultivating that relationship based on unconditional positive regard.

That's why their relationship feels so comfortable and satisfying. Unconditional positive regard isn't only a therapy principle. It's something everyone craves in a relationship. To be seen as you are, flaws and mistakes and quirks and all is terrifying and mortifying, but when that person then just smiles and says I love you anyway because you are not your mistakes and you are not your flaws and nothing you can ever do or say can change how I feel about you, the relief and joy and comfort is more than worth the discomfort. So I think the idea that Mobius can look at someone as deeply flawed, broken, and jaded as Loki and love him exactly as he is right there and then, eyes wide open and smiling, believing that beneath it all Loki has the potential to be good, gives us hope that someone could do the same for us. I know that's what Lokius does for me, at least. Mobius represents to me the ideal of unconditional positive regard, and having an image of what that looks like in the character of Mobius gives us the opportunity to apply it to ourselves when we may not get it elsewhere in our lives. And I, for one, think that's very sexy of him.

#lokius #wowki #loki #mobius #loki x mobius #mobius my beloved #He is my comfort character and this is why #Also this is low key homework from my therapist bc my attachment to this man has become a literal tool in my therapist's belt #And it's both excellent and embarrassing lmaoooooo

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darling-archeron · 3 years

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Hi! I'm kind of new to the fandom and I'm looking for good Feysand fics. Do u have any reccomendations for fics/authors? 🍓

Welcome to the fandom! I've read so many amazing fics by so many amazing people over the years, so this list will by no means be comprehensive, but I'll do my best and it'll definitely get long anyway! I hope I didn't bother anyone by tagging them because I'm not mutuals with everyone on this list.

@illyriantremors on both Ao3 and Tumblr has some of the best fics I've ever read. Unfortunately, they left Tumblr and the fandom several years ago, but they have some serious gems. Some of my favorites include a nearly-complete rewrite of ACOMAF from Rhys's POV, and my personal favorite feysand fic of all time, Beneath the Stars, (And its sequel, Between the Stars!) which is a fantastic modern AU.

@quakeriders on both ao3 and Tumblr has so many good one-shots and some multichapters that live in my head rent-free! One of my faves is her demon!rhys AU; and if i get burned, at least we were electrified.

@writtenonreceipts on both ao3 and tumblr has a lot of great fics with really interesting premises. If you're into throne of glass they also write quite a bit for that fandom!

@themoonthestarsthesuriel on both tumblr and ao3 has so much amazing writing! Their fic The Bet was such a wonderful ride.

@mmvalentine on both ao3 and tumblr writes fantastic feysand AUs. I'm still working my way through a lot of their writing, but their tattoo artist au The Bargain is terrific.

@the-lonelybarricade/TheLonelyBarricade on Ao3 has so much amazing writing for a variety of ships! I recently devoured her A Court of Faded Dreams, which is a really unique concept involving Feyre being sent back in time to the beginning of ACOTAR.

@bookofmirth/ABookandACoffee on Ao3 is one of my favorite sources for levelheaded and sensible opinions in this mess of a fandom, and she is also a talented writer! Her fic Turning A Page is so well written, and she has quite a few oneshots for a variety of ships including Feysand.

@arrowmusings on both ao3 and tumblr has a lot of great content that will absolutely destroy you in the best way possible I promise.

@live-the-fangirl-life has so many wonderful feysand fics, as well as a lot of throne of glass writing if you're in that fandom.

@thesurielships has a ton of feysand fics that I adore! If you're a swiftie she has an evermore songfic collection.

Another writer who left the fandom and is also now inactive (to the best of my knowledge) is @sarahviehmann / sv_you_know_who_I_am on Ao3. Before ACOWAR came out they wrote their own version called A Court of War and Starlight that I personally haven't read, but it was immensely popular around the time. Their modern AU My Fair Warrior is really well done as well.

Since you're familiar with my blog, I'm guessing you've already checked out my writing if any of it interested you, but I'm WordsAndWishes on Ao3.

I also went down by bookmarks list on Ao3 and picked out a few of my favorite fics.

Dear Darling - penpal AU!

Going for Gold - Olympic AU - this one does focus more on Nessian but there is plenty of feysand goodness, also a lot of great sisterly relationships.

It's Nice to Have a Friend - Incomplete but a gem! A Modern AU

The Castle of Dreams - Feyre ends up as a tutor for Rhys's sister who just so happens to be a princess.

Don't Look Back - a hs AU that is so much fun and an absolute ride!

What Happens Under the Stars - feysand finds healing together in a modern au. Feyre and Rhys and their journey are written in a very unique way that I love.

If You Hold Me Close - fake dating at an elucien wedding!

Nox Industries - Rhys is a CEO and Feyre applies for a job at his company.

I just know I'm forgetting a ton of people but I hope this is a good starting place!

#kate talks #acotar #fic rec #feysand

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genoc1d3r · 3 years

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my turn to cry - thoughts on 3-1b

ok this has actually gotta be my favorite chapter cause holy shit so much stuff happened.

I played the Alice/kanna route and afterwards I watched a vod with the reko/shin route in which ranmaru and naomichi died before the banquet, so BIG SPOILER WARNING FOR BOTH ROUTES

Mafia Princess Sara??: Ok so first off, back in the beginning of 2020, I had a theory that Sara was a mafia heiress and that the death game was supposed to be something to “prepare” her. And that her memories were wiped or she was initially supposed to be kept blind to this whole thing (In 3-1a when everybody saw the consent form for the very first time everybody felt a sense of deja vu, except for Sara. Because why would they need her consent when she is the sole focus of the game and it’s all for her) This theory was mainly supplied by my confusion surrounding the hiring of Kai, cause why would mr Chidouin hire a former assassin to protect her?? How did he even know Kai??? But yeah, the whole thing with Shinobu Gokujo and deciding a new don through a death game just adds a lil more validity to this theory.

Sara’s real father: I also had a mini theory that Gashu Satou was her real father, but that was mostly cause of their hair color and how it would def make Sara’s hair color make more sense genetics-wise (but kai has black hair, so its most likely that his mother had black hair, which would also disprove this mini-theory but yk im not here to prove it just talk about it). And that Gashu knew of Mr. Chidouin and gave Sara to him, and it would also explain why mr Chidouin chose Kai of all people to look after her and why Kai could only watch her from a distance, in case she realized the truth that he was her brother/half-brother or something.

GREENBLINGS CANON AAAAAAAA: I love this, I love this so much oh my god. Now I can replay and cry after 2-2 cause nankidai hates us :’). I dont have an issue with this specifically, I’m just a bit bothered by how the whole thing went. There was some buildup yea, and the cg with kanna, kugie, and shin was amazing. And that lil bit about nice hallucinations made me tear up a bit. But, then everybody kinda just moved on? and idk this whole chapter was a fuckign roller coaster I could barely keep up.

Autistic Gin <3: I’m autistic myself and I have seen many characters who are autistic-coded or exhibit many signs of autism but have never been straight up confirmed (Ex: Vera Misham from Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney). And even then, these characters usually share similar personality traits like being aloof and reserved. So it’s nice to see that Gin is representing autism in a relatively realistic manner with his hyperfixations, vocal tics, and issues with socializing. Even after nearly dying like 17 times he’s still doing well and I genuinely wish for his survival and happiness.

Ranmaru’s death: Both of Ranmaru’s deaths, (if you or if you don’t fail the electricity absorption minigame) the death feels so... off? I was really attached to him as a character, yet his death didn’t impact as much as Joe’s or Nao’s did. During his Banquet death, one second he had his really cute smiling sprite but then whoops oh no guys weird drill screw thing kills him (again). I still can barely comprehend it because it all just happened so fast. Like no cg or anything. I was honestly kinda disappointed. The “delayed” one does a better job at his death scene, but again, it was wayyy too quick and completely dismissed as everybody just moves on to defeat Maple 2.0. I at least would’ve appreciated a better transition than Midori just saying “well anyways–”

Ranmaru’s extremely quick descent into madness in the shin route: I actually liked this idea of Ranmaru willing to go to such extremes for Sara. However, theres barely time for any of this to develop? Like again, everything just happens so fast??? I would've definitely liked if there were little hints around before the body discovery that ranmaru was gonna do something like this, just a little time for development would really be cool.

Mr. Policeman/Mr. Tazuna???: After I finished, I actually looked on the wiki to see if it said anything about his son that he mentioned and I found this:

But yeah thats cool

The thing about Q-taro: I’m gonna say it now, I’ve liked Q-taro ever since the aftermath of 1-2, and Q-taro haters have added absolutely nothing to this fandom. Everybody saw him as a child-hater, I see him as a guy who’ll do anything to survive and succeed. I mean that wish is kinda what got him into the death game. And yeah he did try to leave that one time, but that’s what getting thrown into traumatic killing games does for you, most people don’t want to die, they want to live, no matter what it takes. We can’t all be the main character and choose to cooperate with everybody and be the “good” person in that situation. Even Sara has those extremely selfish moments and those intrusive thoughts of winning and leaving.

This whole thing should also be applied to Ranmaru. Ranmaru has gone through so much shit in such a brief amount of time, to the point where he was considering to/actually kill people to escape with the one person he trusted in this hellhole. In that situation, Sara’s kinda at fault here, cause without Joe she’s lost her sense of morality which resulted in her becoming selfish and well... honestly kinda toxic. This emotional manipulation is really what set Ranmaru off, however it was 100% his decision to fucking kill somebody and murder’s bad. Still love him though.

But back to Qtaro, I really enjoyed the extra substance given to him in this chapter, it’s nice to see the development from being selfish to feeling deep remorse to protecting the dolls of the first trial victims, most notably Mai. As he completely forgives her for stabbing him. The chapter did a great job at fueling my already intense love for Q-taro (and it actually convinced my best friend who claims to hate Q-taro with every bone of her body to like him too!) I also love the father-son dynamic between him and Gin. I find this relationship to be really important cause Gin’s father is an abusive alcoholic and Q-taro’s an orphan who’s never had a proper role-model in his life. So it’s beautiful that despite not having anybody there for him when he was younger he can still be a good figure for another child.

Predictions/hopes for the next part:

I just want to see whether Shin already knew about Kanna being his sister, and if he doesn’t I want a reveal. Right. Now.

A Ranmaru/Joe/Q-taro/Kai/ “Hinako” revival, p l e a se they died so soon

More info about the people involved in the Hades Incident/Shinobu Gokujo

More info regarding Meister

Sara going on Maury

Who tf is “Hinako”????

I really hope that there isn't any specific good/bad ending. Like I want every ending to be equally bad and good yk? like equal consequences and good stuff.

Yo wtf happened to Sara’s mom?? Is she gonna come back and play a more important role in the story?? Are her parents gonna come back as floor masters???

I want things to actually change depending on whether you picked Alice or reko, cause so far they’ve played extremely minor roles.

#3 1b spoilers #yttd #yttd spoilers #q taro burgerberg #sara chidouin #ranmaru kageyama #joe tazuna #gin ibushi #kai satou #keiji shinogi #alice yabusame #reko yabusame #shin tsukimi #midori yttd #kanna kizuchi #greenblings #sou hiyori #mai tsurugi

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years

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By Your Doorstep (Part 4)

Summary: The reader and Dean celebrate Tessa’s birthday with a big surprise before making a drastic change to their relationship...

Pairing: Doctor/Neighbor!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 4,100ish

Warnings: language, angst, mentioned past sexual assault (not graphic)

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

_________

Dean’s POV

Two Weeks Later

“Oh fuck yeah!” said Dean, jumping up and down in the driveway as he read over the letter in his hands.

“Dr. Dean that’s a bad word,” said Emily, the five year old three houses down. Dean slapped a hand over his face as she rode past on her bike, her father laughing to himself.

“Hope it’s good news, Dean,” said Chris.

“Very. Sorry about that,” said Dean, Chris waving him off as Dean jogged back inside. He read over the letter again and looked through the packet. “Alright. As long as you keep a B average or above you’re golden kiddo. You get straight A’s anyways so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Dean smiled and gathered up all of the documents, getting them together with Tessa’s birthday present. Y/N had tried to tell him that giving away his old iPhone was too much but all it did was sit in a drawer now when it worked perfectly fine. He was pretty sure she wasn’t going to be thinking about the phone at all once she found out about the grant.

He looked back at the bag on the table and frowned. Maybe she’d take it the wrong way, like he was trying to save her sister or their family or something like that. He could have given them the application and had them fill it out. They would have probably gotten it still. Dean knew his letter he’d included didn’t hurt but he didn’t want to be that guy. He was already a doctor, already helped Y/N with a job, already paid for dates and things. It was no issue for him at all and he knew she didn’t care about the money but he didn’t want to rub it in her face that he could help more than she could.

Dean grabbed his phone and called Cas, Sam stuck in some network client thing all night he’d told him. It rang a few times before it picked up, the echo in the background telling him he was on speaker.

“Deano!” said Benny. “Gonna make it over tonight after all?”

“Hey guys,” said Dean, sitting down on his couch. “You got the crew together?”

“Nah, just us and the girls. They’re still out shopping. What’s up?” asked Cas.

“You know Y/N?” asked Dean.

“The girl you’re clearly in love with? Yes we know her,” laughed Benny. Dean was quiet and heard them shift on the other end.

“Everything okay?” asked Cas.

“I think I fucked it up. I think I’m going too far too fast.”

“What do you mean?” asked Benny.

“Tessa, her little sister, she’s in high school and I applied for a grant on her behalf for her college and she got it,” said Dean.

“That’s a problem how?” asked Cas.

“I don’t want it to come off as me trying to save them or anything. I’m nervous she’s gonna get mad at me,” said Dean. His friends were quiet and knew a teasing comment wouldn’t come. “Guys.”

“Tell her you applied on a long shot and a grant is what helped you with school. You’re not saving the day, just sharing a benefit you got,” said Benny. “Shit I wish I’d had someone do that for me.”

“What’s going on Dean? You’re normally the last person to freak over shit,” said Cas. Dean sat back and stared up at the ceiling.

“Talk to us bud,” said Benny.

“I like this girl and it’s been years and years since I had a girlfriend. You guys know I’m not good for more than a fuck,” said Dean.

“Lisa was a super bitch and you know that’s not true,” said Benny.

“I am in my thirties and I’ve never had a real relationship. I don’t even know how. I’m gonna fuck this up so bad. I know it.”

“Contrary to how often I call you a dick, you are one of the best people I’ve ever met,” said Cas.

“I agree and you know all our friends and especially Sammy would say the same thing. Brother you gotta relax. This girl from what you’ve said and everybody else says, well we ain’t never seen you so happy so stop freaking, go get ready for your date tonight and put some faith in this girl that she’s not gonna hurt you back,” said Benny.

“I didn’t say-”

“Dean, we’ve known you forever. We know when you’re scared. I know most people in your life end up hurting you but take it from us, not everyone will. I got a good vibe from her,” said Cas.

“Me too,” said Dean quietly.

“You doing okay?” asked Benny. “In general you know.”

“Yeah. Most of the time I’m great now. The past few weeks have been awesome. I think maybe that’s why I keep freaking out over this girl. It’s like, fucking finally, I understand what a good relationship can be.”

“You been to Ketch lately?” asked Cas.

“No, not as a patient. I’m okay.”

“Well still go for a tag up every once in a while for us,” said Benny.

“I know. Never would have gone without you assholes getting on my back in the first place.”

“That’s what friends are for,” said Cas, Benny chuckling. “So where you guys going tonight?”

“Monico’s.”

“Fancy,” they both said and Dean rolled his eyes, smiling to himself.

“Goodbye assholes,” said Dean, hearing them laugh before he hung up. He sat up and took a deep breath. “Alright. Shower. Shave and fingers crossed tonight goes well.”

Reader’s POV

“Okay, presents before or after dinner?” you asked as you carried in a bag to Tessa’s room.

“Before, obviously,” she said.

“Alright, well I know you wanted something really badly this year,” you said. “Why don’t you open the green one first?”

“This feels like an iPhone box…” she said with a big smile. She tore off the paper and grinned. “Awesome! What one is it?”

“It’s a ten. It’s used but in really good condition. I got you a case and extra charger too,” you said. “We can swing to the store and activate it tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Y/N, really,” she said. She grabbed the card next and her eyes went wide when she saw the cash inside. “Y/N.”

“It’s your money you gave me. It’s yours. Buy whatever you want, okay?” you said. She nodded and unwrapped a few more small things, a book she’d been talking about, some make up you knew she’d use, a new pair of her nike running shorts that’d been on sale thankfully. You smirked when she picked up the last two presents in the bag. “Alright. I hope these are...suitable for you.”

She tore off the wrapping on one and started to laugh.

“It’s hot pink,” she giggled. “Why is it hot pink?”

“Cause vibrators come in a variety of colors,” you said with a laugh. “I will let you read through the charging instructions on your own and same for the other box. There is toy cleaner because yes you need to wash these things properly and I got some water based lube. Go with water based. It dries up faster but it works better to me. Oh and wash everything like five times before it goes anywhere near anything, okay?”

“Okay,” she laughed. “I can’t believe you actually bought me this stuff.”

“Can’t get pregnant off a toy,” you said.

“Definitely can’t do that,” said Dean, Tessa wide eyed as he popped his head into the doorway. She shoved the boxes back into the bag and he laughed. “I’m a doctor. Sex doesn’t bother me and I think your sister has a point.”

“Oh my God, I forgot he was here,” she said, running her hands over her face.

“I was wondering where you two ran off to,” he said. He stepped inside and pulled out a box from behind his back. “Happy birthday, Tessa.”

“Thanks,” she blushed. She undid the bow and paper, smiling as she opened the box. There was an envelope inside but she picked up the headphones and shook her head. “Dean I can’t accept this. It’s too much. I already know the iPhone must have been yours.”

“You are smarter than you look,” he said. “But I can’t accept your refusal of my present. I have new ones and those never get used and I’m bigger than you so you’re gonna lose this argument one way or the other.”

“I’d listen to him, Tessa. He gets his way when he wants it,” you said. She rolled her eyes but smiled.

“Thank you. People haven’t been nice to us the past couple years,” she said. You glanced down to the floor, Dean leaving his arm wrapped around your waist.

“People weren’t all that nice to me either for a long time,” he said with a nod. “Someday when you’re able, you help somebody else out, understand?”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod.

“Open the envelope. This one’s a present to you both,” he said. You cocked your head as she tore it open, reading for a long time before she pulled out a paper and handed it to you.

“Dean,” you said, sitting down on her bed after you’d read it a few times. “Dean this…”

“It’s a grant. It’s very similar to a scholarship. I’m an alumni of Elmdale and the medical school there. Tessa you qualify and so I applied on your behalf a few weeks ago and you were accepted. The grant will cover half of four years of tuition,” he said.

“What does that mean?” asked Tessa.

“It means we will have to pay very little with financial aid,” you said. She was beaming and you shook your head. “You applied weeks ago?”

“After I met you two. This house seemed familiar to me for some reason until I remembered. Y/N I told you someone helped me when I was eighteen?”

“Yeah?”

“I think his picture is hanging in the hall,” he said.

“Our dad?” asked Tessa.

“He got me a job and helped me pay for part of my school. I came here once when I needed his help. Your father was a very good man and it’s clear his daughters are the same. Neither one of you deserves to go through all the pain I did. I don’t want you to. It was no trouble at all to do, I swear.”

“Tessa, I work at Dean’s office as a lab tech,” you said. She turned her head and you saw Dean nod. “I lost my job before. We were scraping by. Barely. We’re okay now but without this grant...it would have wiped out our inheritance. That was for weddings and down payments for houses. We can keep it now...we can keep the house now.”

“You hate this house though,” she said. “I hate this house.”

“Tessa-”

“We can downsize,” she said. “Y/N, every night you stare down at their bedroom door. It’s like we live with ghosts or something. It doesn’t have to be so tight. Do we really need a five bedroom house?”

“It’s not as tight anymore. We’ll talk about it. Let’s go celebrate all the good news,” you said. “I’ve been dying for a Monico’s steak.”

“She seemed pretty happy tonight,” said Dean as you sat on the front porch a few hours later. You hummed and rocked in your seat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Did I overstep?”

“No. You were the boy in the mailroom, weren’t you. Dad used to talk about you sometimes. Mostly when I didn’t want to do something. He told me some people my age have it so much harder.”

“True. But you can’t compare one person’s struggles to another’s. It’s not fair to either one.”

“Would you sell this house if you were me?” you asked.

“I like that you live close by. I’d miss that. But it’s a lotta house for the two of you and it sounds like a change might be a good thing. You could downsize to somewhere else in the neighborhood and probably bank a good chunk of money for later on.”

“We could.” Dean was quiet, gears turning in his head. “What are you thinking of?”

“My house is a five bedroom too.”

“Yours is also newer,” you said. “And bigger.”

“Tell me if I’m crossing a line but...you guys...could stay there if you decided to sell this place. Temporarily. Or not temporarily,” he said. You stared up at him and he looked away. “Like I said, I’m sorry, I know it’s...I should go.”

“Hey. I’m not afraid of you.” His head turned back towards you and he swallowed thickly. “Tell me another secret and I’ll you one.”

“I think I I’m falling in love with you and I’m afraid I’m going too fast and that you think I’m creepy or weird deep down and I’m up to something when all I really see is me and my brother in you and your sisters places and I know how much it sucks and how much it hurts and I know you protect her from stuff she doesn’t even know about. I’m sorry for saying that about the house just now. I’d still like to see you though if that’s okay.”

“I think this is fast too but I also think that part of me fell for you the day you carried her home. You don’t want anything from us. Just to help and it’s not because you pity us or anything like that. If I’ve learned anything yet in life it’s that you don’t know when it’s gonna stop and there’s no use in wasting time.”

“What are you saying?”

“You willing to put up with a teenager, a service dog and someone who has not had a moment to themselves in two years?”

“As long as you don’t snore,” he smiled. You laughed and kissed his cheek. “Are you serious?”

“I don’t like this house anymore. If she doesn’t want it, I don’t want it. Maybe we can do some test runs, stay over for a weekend or two, see if we want to make it a not temporary thing.”

“That sounds great,” he smiled. “We’ll figure it out, sweetheart.”

Two Months Later

“I’m home,” you said on the way back from the store. You’d been staying at Dean’s for two weeks now after a nice couple closed on your old house. So far it’d been great and you were perfectly happy to stay there with him and Tessa for the foreseeable future. “I picked up some-”

“He is not my dad. I am eighteen,” said Tessa as she stormed over to the foyer. You glanced back to where Dean was over in the kitchen and sighed. “I want to go to Paulie’s tonight.”

“Who is Paulie?” you asked as you kicked off your boots.

“A friend,” she said.

“You’ve literally never mentioned him before,” you said, carrying some groceries through the family room and to the kitchen.

“That’s what I said,” said Dean as he peeled a potato at the island.

“I thought I said you’re not my dad so you can shut the fuck up.”

“Hey!” you shouted, Tessa freezing up. “Apologize to Dean.”

“He-”

“We are stable for the first time ever because of him. I trust Dean to make decisions for you when I’m not home. If he said no, then the answer is no. Go to your room,” you said. She grumbled and pounded her feet upstairs. You washed up and gripped the countertop. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe she said that to you.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be the bad guy,” he said as he picked up another potato. “Paulie what’s his face doesn’t sound like he wants anything other than in her pants so she can swear all she likes at me.”

“What’d she say exactly?”

“She wants to go over to Paulie’s tonight to hang out with some friends but I overheard her and Hailey talking earlier this week about a party and I don’t need a medical degree to put it together.”

“If she sneaks out I’ll kill her,” you said. You glanced down to Toast’s dog bowl and paused. “Dean what would happen if she drank on her medication.”

“She can’t drink alcohol on that stuff,” he said.

“What would happen if she did.”

“She could have a seizure,” he said.

“Tessa!” you shouted. You jogged upstairs and found her bedroom empty. “Tessa!”

The house was quiet and you put your hands on your head.

“Toast!” you shouted, the dog trotting out from Dean’s bedroom. You immediately ran inside, Dean already upstairs and you saw her sitting out on the balcony in a chair, her face in her knees.

“Can I…” said Dean and you nodded. You followed him outside, Dean walking over and squatting by her seat. “Tessa, what are you doing out here?”

“I wish I was normal, didn’t have a fucked up head.”

“I got one too,” he said.

“Do you have to take medicine for seizures? No?” she said.

“No but my dad used to beat me up,” he said. She turned and he nodded. “He would try to beat up my little brother too sometimes but I would take the hits when I could. Tessa, you can’t drink when you’re on your medicine. You just can’t.”

“I know that,” she said.

“You can’t sneak out and leave Toast behind either. It’s not safe.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Y/N and I get scared too is all.”

“You just pretend to like me cause you fuck my sister.”

“For the record, I don’t fuck your sister. Relationships are complicated. You might not realize this but I care about you for you. If I didn’t I would not want you in my house, in our house, and I wouldn’t get scared about you going to parties with guys that just want to use you for sex. I give a shit about you Tessa whether you believe me or not.”

“You don’t care,” she scoffed. “You feel sorry for us. Nobody on earth would ask two strangers to move in unless you-”

“Tessa you can think whatever you want about me. I’m not your father and I’ll never try to be him. But I sure as shit know how to be an older brother. So be pissed off and be rude and whatever else you want to. I’ve done this before with my own brother. You don’t scare me. The only thing that does is you getting taken advantage of or you getting hurt and Toast isn’t there to help. Someday you’ll get it through that thick skull of yours what the truth is but until then, I’ll be the asshole who doesn’t let you go to parties you’ll get hurt at.”

“You pity us.”

“I’m jealous of you.” She stared at him and you swallowed in the doorway. “Your parents loved you. Mine didn’t. You want to talk about being fucked up? I’m here anytime.”

She nodded and he sat up on the bench with her. You went inside and finished preparing the potatoes, mashing them up and saving them for later. It was nearly ten by the time you heard the stairs creak and Dean walked down them.

“Y/N,” said Tessa. You got up from the couch and walked to the bottom of the stairs, Tessa glancing down. “I’m sorry for how I’ve acted today and treated Dean lately. I was…”

“It’s okay,” he said quietly as he rubbed her back.

“I was scared when we moved in here a few weeks ago. I don’t want to lose you too and Dean takes up time that it used to be just us and I know the accident wasn’t my fault but I feel guilty still sometimes and I know your life is different because of it too and I want you guys to be happy, I do. I just get scared you’ll forget about me. I don’t wanna be alone. I’m not ready.”

“You don’t ever have to be alone, Tessa,” you said. She nodded and looked up at Dean.

“I know. I was silly. But I’m better now,” she said.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you said.

“I know,” she said.

“Why don’t you head to bed, Tess. Tomorrow I can come to your session with you like we talked about,” said Dean. She nodded and walked upstairs, Toast trotting into her room. You walked upstairs and into your bedroom with Dean, shutting the door after yourselves. “I should have...change is difficult on kids with PTSD. I should have realized that’s why she’s been so snippy. I thought it was just hormones.”

“Probably both,” you said, climbing onto the bed. He lay down next to you, staring up at the ceiling. “You care for her.”

“You two are a package deal, sweetheart,” he said with a light chuckle. “Can’t love one without loving the other.”

“Like you and Sam,” you smiled. “I can’t wait to meet him in person.”

“Me too.”

“Is Tessa okay? You guys talked a really long time.”

“She was afraid I would replace her, push her out. Granted I do like spending alone time with you and everything but she needs you and I’m not here to take you away from her. I think she understands that now.”

“Dean why haven’t we had sex?” you asked. He sat up and you shrugged. “We’ve dated nearly three months and you don’t even try to cop a feel. For how fast certain things are between us, that one feels a little slow. I just want to understand. I don’t...I’m not saying it’s a problem I just want to know.”

“You asked me on our first date, or you made a comment, that I don’t seem like the shy around women type.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t use to be. A smidge, especially if they were the one that seemed to be controlling the situation but it was always good. I had some girlfriends, had some hookups. More than my fair share of hookups. The girlfriends…”

“The bitch one?” you said, getting a chuckle out of him.

“I stopped thinking I was relationship material for a while. So I did hookups for a long time and that was good. Until about two years ago. I haven’t had sex since.”

“Did someone hurt you?”

“No. I just...I asked her to stop and she didn’t.”

“Dean she hurt you.”

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well I don’t want to talk about it anymore, okay?” he said. He put his back to you and you took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I know we sleep in the same bed and…”

“And I don’t need to have sex with you. Would I like it? Sure. But my sister and I aren’t the only ones in this house that need to be taken care of. You’ve done a really good job of that lately and I’d like to start pulling my weight in that department. When you’re ready for sex, you tell me, otherwise, I will just cuddle you real hard until then, okay?”

“Alright,” he said quietly. He reached behind himself and wrapped your arms around him. You kissed the back of his neck, Dean taking slow breaths. “I don’t really know how to let someone take care of me though.”

“We’ll take it slow,” you said. “Like maybe with you being little spoon tonight.”

“Alright. I can try, sweetheart.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 5 here!

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #doctor!dean #au!dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #spn reader insert #supernatural reader insert #dean #winchester #dean spn

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bts-teaspoonff · 4 years

Text

Fangirl pt. 1

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Idol A/U

Pairing: BTS OT7 x reader

Rating: PG

Summary: Y/N, being a huge fangirl, finally got her chance to work alongside her favorite idol group as a backup dancer. She gets to know each member personally and realizes that her feelings may be more than fangirl-idol attraction.

Word Count: 3K

PARTS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | .... masterlist

“It’s finally here!” I shouted as I bolted from my room towards the front door to greet the delivery man carrying my package. Even without looking at the mirror, I could feel my smile going up to my ears and my heartbeat furiously echoing through my chest. The delivery man handed me a medium sized box and stared at me as I reach out for the box with a huge smile plastered on my face. I signed the delivery form, closed the door and ran back inside my unit.

I ran to the living room and placed the box on the floor. I turned to my left and hurriedly rummaged for my cutter inside the drawer beside the sofa. I also took my phone on top of the said drawer and placed it on my lap. I swiftly sat down on the floor in front of my package with the cutter ready in my hand when I remembered something. I unlocked my phone and proceeded to video call my brother who’s at work. My brother’s name and his photo appeared on the screen as I wait for him to answer the call.

“Hey Y/N…” His face popped up on my screen. I silently giggled at the angle of his front camera when he answered the call. Not really flattering despite him being good looking. He must have placed the phone on a table directly below his face. “You know I’m at work right? Why did you call? Emergency?” I could hear keyboard sounds in the background. He must be busy typing on the computer as he didn’t bat an eye on his phone while talking to me.

“Yeah I know. I just wanted to share some good news” My camera is facing towards me with just my eyes peeking through screen. I was worried that maybe he’s with some people at work that might see me when he answers the video call and I’m not decent looking right now. “My package has arrived!” I low-key squealed as I pressed the ‘rotate camera’ button on the screen and directed the camera at the package. I could see my brother looking now at the phone. He placed his phone in front of him and leaned it on a stable surface for him to see me properly. He continued to type slowly on his keyboard as he steal glances on his phone screen.

“Don’t tell me…. You bought another merch?” He giggled as he looked at his phone screen and continued to type on his keyboard. He looked back at his computer screen after a second, with a smile on his face. I opened the package with my cutter on one hand and my phone on the other. Tearing through the tape, I can’t contain my excitement as i shrieked when my cutter got through the end of the tape. I released the cutter from my hand and pushed it aside.

“BTS Merch! Oh my god, I have been waiting for these for weeks. I got the latest album, more Tiny Tan figurines, and some concert goods from last tour.” I proceeded to open the box and showed my brother the contents. I felt accomplishment as I look at all the merchandise that has just arrived at home. My ARMY heart couldn’t contain the joy that I have right now. I shot my eyes back on the phone screen and saw my brother smiling as he looked at me through the phone screen.

“Hey, I’m happy you are happy but you know I work in Big Hit right? I work for them?” He stopped typing, took the phone back in his hands and brought the phone close to his face. “I could just easily buy these things for you with my employee discount.” And now his whole face is occupying my phone screen.

“Jiyong, I know but where’s the fun in that? I want to buy these items using my own money. Well, an employee discount is nice but I don’t want to abuse your privilege as I buy too much of their merchandise.” I snorted at the fact that I really do buy too much of their merchandise. Besides, when I use his employee discount, the items are delivered directly to him as he works inside the Big Hit Building. With the amount of merchandise that I buy, I don’t want to embarrass him and label him as a big fanboy especially with him working so close to the boys.

“If you weren’t my twin sister, I would totally laugh at you. Not that I think you’re crazy but you’re…. loyal” He puts emphasis on the last word. He respects my deep profound respect for the 7 boys but he thinks that maybe I have gone too far with the purchases. He placed his phone back in front of him, leaning on a surface. “Oh before I forget, did you read my email?” I was taken aback with topic change but I’m used to it as he does this all the time. I pressed the ‘rotate camera’ button once again for him to see my face.

“No, I haven’t opened my email yet. I went home so late last night. My last client in the gym arrived late so we finished late as well. A bummer.” I scoffed as I remembered the fatigue that enveloped my body yesterday. I work as a gym trainer/physical therapist full time and a dance teacher/choreographer as my sideline. I work at my friend’s gym located in the heart of Seoul as a gym trainer. I currently handle 7 clients, some who I have worked with for a few years already. I also teach dance classes at a small dance studio just a few blocks from where I live. Mainly, I handle BTS dance classes because duh, I am a full-blooded ARMY. I really tried to make my passion as a source of income and it warms my heart to see people having fun when I teach them those dances.

“Check it. Anyways, I gotta go. I still have a lot to do. As you know, the company is busy since BTS will be releasing another album sometime this year.” My brother currently works as a Recording Engineer in Big Hit. He used to brag to me that he’ll spend hours with BTS and TXT. I was jealous of course but I am so proud he’s working for them. Whenever I listen to songs from Big Hit artists, I try to think that he has contributed to a lot of songs despite not knowing what exact songs he has worked on. Another reason why I listen and support them.

We both said our farewells and dropped the call. As I took out all the contents of the package unto the floor, I used my phone on the other hand. I opened my mail and saw few unread emails. Some of them were from my subscriptions on Netflix and Spotify, which I barely read. On top of the list was my brother’s mail. I saw the subject “READ THIS FANGIRL!” and I laughed. Here I thought he sent me something urgent or important that needs my utmost attention. Must be another event or merchandise that they’ve yet to announce to the public.

I opened the mail and my eyes were glued to the first line of the message body.

“Big Hit is hiring backup dancers. See the forwarded email below, sis. I think they’re meaning to assign whoever they’ll hire as part of BTS dance team.” Did I just receive this email? It came from my brother so it must be true. He won’t prank me like that. If I apply, there’s no guarantee that I’ll be hired right? That’s too bad if I won’t be hired but there’s nothing to lose if I try to apply.

I left my package scattered throughout my floor and ran towards my laptop lying on my bed. I sat down on the floor beside my bed and opened my laptop. I felt like a kid but here I am, rushing to find my resume to apply for a new job that might eventually change my life.

….

It’s been a week since I applied as a backup dancer for Big Hit. I sent in my resume and a few videos of me dancing to some of their artists’ songs. I’m lucky to have known a lot of BTS’ songs and choreographies by heart and I might have tried to study some of their label mates’ songs as well. I haven’t received a reply back from them and I’m worried that I may not receive any response ever.

Apparently, BTS is known for having only male backup dancers as far as I know so it’s news to me that they’re hiring female backup dancers now. It got me thinking that this might also attract fellow fangirls like me to apply but knowing Big Hit, they wouldn’t want anything scandalous to happen just because they hired female backup dancers. I’m not saying that female dancers lack professionalism but how the boys are the top rank boy group in the country, female fans would be green with jealousy if they see female dancers dancing with them. Some Armies are really protective when it comes to the boys so it’s really shocking to hear that the company is finally considering this.

The day that I got the mail from my brother, I spent half of my day planning what dances to shoot and submit. I chose BTS’ Idol and Singularity, TXT’s Crown and a freestyle dance to Beyonce’s Yonce. I wanted to showcase my range in dancing by carefully choosing a variety of songs. I admit that the reason I may have applied to this job is partly because I’m a fangirl but nonetheless, my passion for dancing is bigger. I have been dancing since I was a kid but I was not this confident at the start. It’s hard to convince me to perform in front of a bigger audience, let alone a stadium full of fans. I slowly got over my fear little by little when I started teaching dance classes at the dance studio. The fear is still there and you may wonder why I am applying for this job when I’m scared shit in performing for a large audience. BTS taught me to love myself and I am really trying my best to go out of my comfort zone. I figured that this may be my best chance in doing so. Also, I get the benefit of working alongside them which is a big plus.

I couldn’t really focus on my job for the whole week. I find myself regularly checking my mail in the hopes of getting a response from Big Hit. 5 days and there’s still no mail. Maybe my email just went to their spam folder or maybe I typed in the wrong mail. On the 7th day while I was pulling out my clothes in the dryer, I heard a ping from my phone from across the hall. I left my phone on my bed and the laundry room is right beside my room. I noticed that the ping was my assigned tone for mails. I hurriedly took out all my warm dry clothes and unto the basket, closed the door of the dryer and turned the lights off in the laundry room.

“New Mail. Subject: Dance Team Application” I saw the notification banner and my heart just jumped out of my chest. I felt my forehead sweating profusely, fingers shaking and my throat closing up as I try to open my phone and check my mail. I silently and swiftly read the contents of the mail. After two seconds, I shrieked at the top of my lungs and threw my phone across my bed. I ran out of my room and in circles around the living room. Good thing I live alone so that I could just celebrate and make loud noises like this. I jumped up and down on the sofa while etching the image of the mail into my head. I buried my head on my pillows and shouted once more, emptying all the air out of my lungs.

I ran back into my room and read the mail again.

“Good day, Miss Y/N.

We have received your application and we are glad to say that we are impressed with your resume and skillset. We would like you to come in our office tomorrow so we can meet and talk personally with our dance team. We are glad to have you join our current dance team. Details of our meeting are expressed below.

Time: 10 am

Address: 42 Teheran-ro 108-gil, Daechi-dong, Gangnam-gu, Seoul, South Korea

Attire: Comfortable Casual

Please look for Mina at the front desk to escort you. Thank you.”

I still can’t believe what I’m seeing. Did I just got accepted? As a backup dancer? For Big Hit? Maybe for BTS? I’m such a lucky fangirl. I can’t wait for tomorrow.

….

It’s a good thing that my schedule is free today. I don’t have any clients in the gym scheduled for today and the dance studio is closed for today. I was so nervous and excited at the same time. I woke up at 6 am as I feel my jitters bothering my sleep. I tried to go back to sleep but I trashed the bed and rolled side to side for about 30 mins so I decided to go for a run. I turned on my Spotify and played my ‘Intense Run Playlist’ which mostly consists of high bpm BTS songs. There’s a jogging path near where I live and the scenery is filled with trees. Very calming, which I really need right now.

I arrived in front of the Big Hit Building around 8:30 am. I made sure to arrive early as I don’t want to be late for the meeting. I’m so anxious right now if I’m allowed to go up as early as 9 am or should I just arrived on time. I lingered outside and paced back and forth at a nearby shade. I wondered if I could visit my brother and stay with him for the mean time.

“Is she a stalker?” I heard whispers coming from my right as I slumped back at the pole where I’m taking shade just across the building. “That’s scary.” Three schoolgirls were standing a few meters away from me. They were staring and smirking at me. I wondered why they would think of me as such then I realized that I wore my hoodie up to cover half of my face.

“I’m not…”

“Good luck stalker-nim. You won’t get a glimpse of the boys.” They giggled and ogled me with judgmental looks with their arms across the chests. “Can you get away from the boys? We don’t want stalker armies like you.”

“As I said, I’m not a stalker and I’m older than you. Why are you talking to me in an informal tone?” I pull my hoodie off my head and slowly tread towards them. They laughed and ran away at the sight of me making my way to them. Sheesh, do I really look like a stalker?

I looked at my watch and it’s still 9:10 am. I guess I could try and visit my brother. The fresh morning air blew gently in my face, as if to welcome me, and be my merry playmate, and the sun looked at me with a warm and tender smile. What a nice start to my day, I thought. I put up my hoodie again and I was comfortable once more with the warmth my mere hoodie gave me.

“I have a meeting in your building today. Do you want to meet up? I’m not due until 10 am. – your adorable look alike” I texted my brother and inserted my phone back in my pocket. I breathed in the fresh breeze and not a second later, my phone pinged. I pulled out my phone to see my brother’s name on the screen.

“Lucky, I’m on a coffee break. I’ll be down in a sec.” he replied. A grin was present on my face as I stood up from where I was leaning. I skipped from across the street towards the building. I looked above at the sky and towards the top of the Big Hit Building and when I returned my gaze back in front of me, I was met by a dark haired man in his mid-twenties. I bumped into him and was knocked down at the side of the street. I exclaimed in pain as I rub my backside.

“Hey look where you’re go…” I looked up and immediately recognized the face. The man was wearing a grey Fear of God shirt paired with black baggy pants. His face was half covered by a black mask and his hair was kept away from his face with a black headband almost occupying his whole forehead.

“You should be the one watching you’re going. Crossing the street while prancing around like that.” He scoffed and continued to make his way towards the building. He didn’t even help me up. I sneered back.

“I’m sorry. I assure you that he’s not usually like this. He’s in a bad mood.” Two hands were suddenly around my elbows, propping me up from the ground. I turned my head and saw a woman around mid-twenties as well. She was carrying an opened big black bag propped on her right shoulder with filled with piles of unruly papers stuck inside. When I finally was able to stand up properly, she took off her hands from me and bowed in apology. She swiftly followed the man and shouted, “Yoongi, wait. I can explain.”

So I was right. It was Suga. All the images of a funny and loving Min Yoongi ran through my mind. Just like a scary movie, it was replaced by a disgusted look he shot at me a while ago. Did he…. Maybe he thought I was a stalker or something? I guess if I really looked like one then I don’t blame him for shooting those looks at me. However, a decent person would help anyone up in that situation.

I beat the dust off my hoodie and slowly treaded towards the building’s entrance. Not a really good way to start my first interaction with anyone from BTS, I thought.

Next part: 2

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imonthinice · 3 years

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 18/?

Word Count: 2.5k

Author's Note: Y/N - your name, A/N - any name (your best friend's name)

Warnings: Mentions of court, mentions of Jason's injuries, swearing, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Jason walked out in a few minutes, just in his boxers. She looked at him before letting out a slight laugh at the absurdity of it.

"Don't laugh, you're the one who tore my clothes."

She sighed, "And you're going to have to go home in torn boxers, Bruce is going to kill you."

"God, don't remind me," he said before sitting beside her.

She laughed, "You could just not go home?"

"I wish. But I have a life. You have a life."

"It's unfortunate, isn't it. Can't spend all day with you but you're all I want to do."

"Funny."

"Thank you, I really tried," she thought, "You remember how I seem to have a fascination with vigilantes?"

"Yes, why?"

"I remembered why. So, when I was in high school, graduating year, I had law class. I was bored, so I did law, don't question it," she laughed. "Anyway, in my law class, they split us into groups. Specifically, Pro-Justice-League-Association and Anti-Justice-League-Association."

"Pro and Anti?"

"Yeah, apparently it was relevant? I guess the JLA doesn't use conventional methods to get evidence? Don't care though. Anyway, I was on the side of Pro, obviously."

"Obviously."

"Wait I'm not done! By the end of the class, I had debated every member of the Anti team and converted them. It actually introduced me to the Robin-Forums, which is just smack dab full of conspiracies."

"Robin-Forums?"

"Oh my god? You don't know those? You're all over them. Some people are convinced you're Kid Flash, some are convinced you're Robin, it's crazy."

"That is crazy but seems funny. What about my family?"

"Someone in my class posted "Why Clark Kent is Batman: An Essay" which has like, 20k likes? It's very popular."

"Well, I swear he isn't Batman. He's just very fond of the night."

"That's what I said, but that man is convinced otherwise."

"You would know if any of us were vigilantes. We're not good at hiding secrets."

"I'm sure you have your secrets, I just find it funny people think you have time to be Kid Flash."

"People spend all their time worrying about me, when will it end?"

"Ha! That's fair. Tabloids running your name probably doesn't help the conspiracies."

"I remember one of my ex-friends from high school mentioned me being Kid Flash, I was so confused, I guess it makes sense now. I'm going to have to show everyone that. They'll get a kick out of it."

"I bet they would. I'm waiting for the day I'm on it as someone who's a hero. Hoping they say I'm Wonder Woman or something. I think it would be funny."

"You get Miss Martin because everyone thinks you're too beautiful to be human."

"Aw. That's so corny that I hate it! Well done."

"Thank you. I learned it from Dick."

"Of course you did."

"Where else would I learn it from?"

"If you're genuinely asking, the internet, probably."

"That's fair. That's completely fair. I think Dick learns a lot of his lines from the internet, honestly."

"Oh yeah, there's no way he comes up with everything on his own. No way."

"So, what other dumb stories do you have?"

"Well, I think my sister is either a vigilante or really, really, weird."

"You think your sister is a vigilante?"

"Okay so, she's a businesswoman. No big deal, right? Wrong. She's always out, more often than she has to be, she's always spending nights away from home."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Okay well Adrianna, Aria, whatever you want to call her, she's being suspicious."

"I'm sure you're looking too far into it."

---------------------------

The Night Jason Was Stabbed.

Aria clutched the scythe in her life hand. She had failed. She had worn her best dresses that she could hide beneath her capes, she had drugged him, she had stabbed him 6 bloody times, and he had still survived!

She was angry. She walked up to the Red Hood on his time off while he was catching a drink, looking stressed. She didn't care if he accepted her offer to go to her room, she just cared about that moment. The one where she could slip in the crushed-up pills and no one would stop her.

And she had done it. She waited until after he chugged the whole drink to strike. He was stumbling around, like an idiot. She hit his head with the back of her blade, knocking him to the ground where she proceeded to stab him 6 times in his right side.

She kissed his forehead before leaving, which required her to removed her mask a bit, saying "Goodnight, sweet Prince," before running into the darkness.

But the blue one, Nightwing. He got to the Red Hood before he could die. And she was pissed. All that hard work, just for him to not even die.

The scythe was still bloodied from the Red Hood. Her lips were still warm from his forehead. But now, he had possibly seen her face! Her plans were foiled every way when of her goblins came up to her.

"Ma'am, your weapon."

She passed it over without second thought. She wanted it rid of the blood of a living man, she wanted it soaked in the blood of a dead man.

Her plague doctor mask fell a bit as she began to tear up. She had failed. She had never failed at knocking "Heroes" down a peg.

Call it crazy, but she knew the fights between her and the Red Hood were far from over. She even felt as they'd grow closer.

As she looked at the walls covered in the photos of the vigilantes of the world, she knew this was only the first battle. The war was hers. They didn't know what was going to hit them.

But there was an issue. Her sister, Y/N had become close with one of the Waynes. She needed the Waynes to get to the "Heroes" which meant possibly hurting her sister.

----------------------------------

"I hope I'm looking too far into it."

She wasn't.

One night when they were both 17, it was just Aria and Y/N in the house when Y/N was awoken by a loud crash from the downstairs window.

She went to investigate, bat in hand, to find her sister, stumbling over the coffee table. Bleeding out and clutching her side from the blood. Stabbed.

Y/N took no hesitation to take care of Aria. Stitching her up like they had as kids when Y/N would sitch up Aria after shut cut herself on skates, or if Y/N ran straight into a car.

Those images still dance in Y/N's mind to this day. Something was up with the way that her sister had a mask, a long bird-Esque plague doctor mask. A cloak. Knives. Guns. A scythe.

The best outcome would be her sister was attacked while LARPing in the park. The worst? She was a villain. Midway? A hero of the night, a vigilante. Anything was better than a villain.

If only she knew the pain Aria had caused her until this point. The fact that Aria was the one who drugged and tried to kill Jason. The pieces of the story were unravelling in front of everyone's eyes, they just needed to connect them properly.

--------------------------------

Aria had a plan. Kidnap her sister and her lover's family. Get ransom. Get them hurting. Locate the "Heroes". The only issue was that Y/N would recognise the cloak, the mask. She knew the get-up.

Aria was not about to redesign her entire outfit for the sake of not alerting her sister. She figured it would be unlikely that Y/N would focus on the cloak when she's being used for ransom money.

Or at least she hoped. She wasn't certain her plan would even work. Breaking into the Wayne Manor, after one of the kids had been stabbed, in a mugging was going to be difficult.

They had employed security, something that was never common at the Wayne Manor before this moment. She was upset. If only her sister had met the Waynes before the stabbing.

Then she thought.

Red Hood is a Wayne?

It made sense, sure. They got stabbed at the same time. But was it reasonable? She didn't know. Why would an 18-20-year-old be a vigilante? He couldn't even legally drink?

She thought it didn't make sense. That the Red Hood was never, could never be the Wayne kid. But if he was, what could that mean?

She was certain he wasn't. But the thoughts swirled in her mind as if beckoning her to come to the conclusion.

She was crazy, she knew that. She was obviously crazy, she became the villain, the opposite of her twin in every way. She was insane. Arkham would like her. But there was something about the Red Hood being a Wayne that kept coming back to her. Haunting her like the night she was stabbed by Green Arrow back in Metropolis.

She was on their radar. They knew her. They would come to get the Waynes.

She knew the Justice League Association knew of her. But the people didn't. This stunt would make the people know of her.

The name Hour will ring through the streets of Gotham. The streets of Metropolis. Smallville. Anywhere she could get her hands on. She would begin her reign of terror.

No one could stop her now.

---------------------------------

Jason had left after Bruce had called him. She assumed he needed to work or one of his siblings did a dumbass move. It was upsetting that they couldn't spend every moment together, but she knew that it was par for the course with Jason.

She was bored. She didn't have a job, her parents paid her bills if she focused on school. But she wasn't something to do, a reason to be having down days. She knew school gave her this, but it wasn't like it was every damn day.

A job would be every damn day. Hopefully. A reason to do so much in her life.

She figured she could work at Wayne Enterprises. But she didn't want to be that girl. The one who's fucking the CEO and is subsequently untouchable. You can't befriend her and talk sit, she'll tattle.

She wanted to be a normal working person. A colleague, not a boss.

Wayne Enterprises was a last resort for her. If she couldn't get hired anywhere else, she'd go apply thee. You don't fuck company property, she thought.

But she also thought fucking Wanye Enterprises "Property" was fun. and no one was really going to stop her, not even Bruce. Even though Bruce tried to lecture her and Jason, there was only so much he'd do. Barbara and Dick both worked at Wayne Enterprises and hadn't been reprimanded for that.

And obviously, they were having sex. They had been together for a while, Jason said.

Which, obviously they were having sex if they were together for that long.

She scrolled a little while for jobs, marking down a few she'd look further into. Not really anything exciting, she was still young, 1st year in college, a freshman. Not many prestigious places would hire someone her age. Especially while they're still in school.

There were only unpaid intern jobs in her field. And she wasn't about to fuck with not getting paid, even if it was her line of schooling. She didn't think it was worth it to put all of your efforts into a job that you weren't getting paid for.

A lot of kids thought her way, including her sister. Both of them grew up thinking that getting paid for work was necessary, her parents had always told them that. Even if her parents had strict religious views, they would still back her up if someone wasn't paying her, even if they fell out.

She thought if Bruce felt the same, that kids should be paid for what they do. He figured he did since he employed all of his kids once they were old enough to work at Wayne Enterprises.

She noticed Lexcorp, who had recently put up a building in Gotham, was hiring. She thought it would be funny if she went to work for her boyfriend's dad's competitor. She was tempted.

Worst comes to worst, she'd be a Lexcorp employee.

She, of course, would have to dress up for these interviews, and she had the clothes to do so, but she didn't, per se, want to wear them.

She also didn't want to go outside when trials were still raging. So, she figured she'd call Christopher's parents about getting him a lawyer and then scroll the pages for shopping. His parents finally had the time to deal with their son, because Christopher didn't want to interrupt his parents with him being an idiot.

She dialled.

"Hello?" his mom asked.

"Hey, Laura. It's Y/N."

"Y/N! Sweetheart, we've been wondering about you ever since, you know."

"Yeah, yeah. We can talk about it later I swear. So, I already told you about what Christopher did, right?"

"You did."

"He needs a lawyer, the man is pressing charges."

"Well, that's stupid. He has no right."

"Apparently he does."

"We'll get Christopher a lawyer. But how are you, darling?"

"I'm okay. Could be a hell of a lot better. I have faith in the court system."

"We're all worried about you, kiddo. You've wrapped yourself up in a lot of a mess recently."

"I know. It's weird. But I swear I'm strong enough to pull through, you've known me for what, 13 years? Give or take? I know how to handle myself."

"That doesn't mean we can't worry."

"I know, new city, new people. I swear behind the scandals I'm in that I actually have friends."

"I assume we'll meet this Jason eventually?"

"Eventually. We need to find the time between court dates, work. Adulting."

"You don't have a job?"

"Jason does. And I'm thinking about getting one to pass the time."

"Working to pass the time is a new thing, fascinating, you kids are."

"Nothing can make sense of all these things I've done, I know."

"Those sound like song lyrics."

"Sometimes songs are the best way to get all your thoughts compiled into one place, you know. I starred as Katherine Howard, Laura. I know how to convey emotion through art."

"I know. That's still one of the performances Metropolis holds on to, you know."

"I wish they didn't. But it is what it is."

"It's a good performance, kiddo."

She laughed, "Anyway. You get onto that lawyer. Christopher needs it right now."

"I will. Be safe. We love you."

"I love you lot."

Click. She thought about Christopher, and the bullshit he went through to save her.

She brushed the thoughts off and pulled out her journal. Scribbling down her sister's bird mask. She couldn't get that off of her mind. She could have sworn her sister made the thing out of actual bone.

It was like she threw a steampunk aesthetic into a plague doctor. She was certain there was more to it that she didn't know.

youtube

Literally Aria LMFAO

#Youtube #jason todd fluff #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood fluff #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x reader #red hood #male oc #female oc

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reidingandwriting · 4 years

Text

Chapter Three: “Your Obedient Servant”

“You’ve kept me from the room where it happens for the last time.”

Word count: ~2450 words

Warnings: Shitty parent, verbal abuse from mother, language, bullying, brief mention of alcohol, mention of guns, implied murder, typical Criminal Minds-esque details towards the murder but nothing graphic.

Characters mentioned: Neutral!Reader, Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Aaron Hotchner

Original characters: Reader’s mother and father, Este and her family, Lara, Andrew Walker, and Abby.

Mentions of: David Rossi, Erin Strauss, and Penelope Garcia

A/N: And here we are! Chapter three! I think I have marked all warnings but if there are any I’ve missed, please feel free to let me know! As always, feedback is always appreciated. This chapter is kind of background of reader focused and I’m so sorry for that. I hope y’all can enjoy anyways and enjoy the turn made towards bringing everyone in. Next chapter will fully bring the team in and I’m excited! That’s enough out of me, enjoy the chapter!

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Eight years old…

“What in fresh hell are you doing?” A voice came from your doorway, one that belonged to your mother. You didn’t look up from where you laid on the floor, a colored pencil in your hand and a coloring book was spread out in front of you. Your room was illuminated by the lamp on your bedside table, it being well past your bedtime.

“Coloring. Couldn’t sleep.” Footsteps got louder as your mother approached and you flinched as she snatched the book up.

“What time is your bedtime?”

“Eight-thirty.” She cleared her throat. “Ma’am.”

“And it’s midnight. So your ass should be where?”

“But I wasn’t making any noise.” Your eyes met your mother’s and her harsh glare made you look back down. “In bed.”

“That’s right.” She grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet, and you tried not to wince. “If I come check on you and catch you out of this bed again, you’re gonna be in so much trouble, kid.”

“But what if I can’t sleep?” You asked as you climbed back into your bed.

“You’ll fall asleep eventually.” Your mother turned off your lamp, the warm glow of the room now being replaced by total darkness. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Your mother walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. You listened for a minute to make sure she was really in bed before you pulled your stuffed animal to your chest and screwed your eyes shut.

“Unfortunately.”

Sixteen years old…

“Happy birthday, kiddo. The big sixteen.” You smiled as you held your phone, sat on the bench outside of school as you waited for your mom to pick you up. Your dad was on the other end of the phone, and you had to admit you missed him. “Still up for your visit this weekend?”

“Are you? You pulled a Mom and bailed on me last time.” Your words could sound harsh to anyone passing by, but there was no malice behind them, just a teasing smile. And you could practically hear your dad rolling his eyes.

“Brat.”

“Yours truly.”

“I promise, nothing will stop me from seeing you this weekend. It’s not every day your only child turns sixteen.” A sigh from the other end makes your heart clench. “I miss you, kid.”

“I miss you too, Dad. I can’t wait to see you.” “Ditto.” Muffled voices were heard in the background before your dad spoke again. “I have to go, but I expect to hear all about your birthday extravaganza Saturday.”

“You mean my trip to the bookstore with Este and dinner with her family? Mom’s too busy with her new fu-”

“Uh uh. It may be true, but don’t finish that sentence.” You could hear the smile in your dad’s voice, mixed with irritation. “I love you, sunshine.”

“I love you, Dad. See you Saturday.”

“See you then.” You hung up and tucked your phone into your pocket, opening the book that sat in your lap to read as you waited for your mom to pick you up from school.

You were delved deep into your book, the sound of the athletes practicing in the nearby fields fading into silence as you let yourself become entranced in your book. You didn’t notice the looming shadow of Lara standing over you.

“Well, thanks, Y/L/N! I’ve been looking for a new book.” You jumped when you heard her voice. She snatched the book from your hands and you reached for it, but she was quicker.

“Give it back!”

“Really? David Rossi?” Lara scoffed and tossed the book over her shoulder where it landed in a pile of mud by the sidewalk we were on. “Whoops.” Lara walked past you, her shoulder knocking harshly into yours. “It’s too easy with them.” Lara said to herself and you ran to your book, and your eyes watered as you knelt down to pick it up, the book being covered in mud.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.” You whispered to yourself as you held the book and tried your best to wipe the mud off it. You sighed in resignation and walked to the trash can a few feet away and set the book in. You were going to the bookstore tomorrow, you could replace it then.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when a car honked and you looked up, noticing your mother’s car. “Come on, we’ve got places to be.” Your mother yelled from the open window and you nodded.

“Coming.” You called out and jogged over to the car, throwing your backpack into the backseat before you got into the passenger seat.

“What’s wrong with you?” She gestured to your red eyes before she noticed your dirty hands. “Gross, how old are you?” She slapped the back of your head and you digged for napkins in the glove compartment while apologizing repeatedly.

“I’m sorry. Lara threw my book in the mud and I tried to save it.”

“Those were weird books anyways. She did you a favor.”

Twenty-two years old…

“Look at our college graduate, Jess.” Este’s father, Phil, smiled from the head of the table. “Look out, world, you’re not prepared.”

“I will not be taking over the world until Y/N is. They still have one year to finish their master’s degree. So I’m taking a gap year. Maybe I’ll go husband hunting.”

“Or, you know, do something that’ll look better on your job applications.” Este’s sister deadpanned.

“Where’s the fun in that?” You nudged Este with your foot and gave her a playful warning look. Este stuck her tongue out at you and you mirrored her expression.

“I wish Y/N would have majored in the same thing as you, Este.” Not even fifteen words out of your mother and the whole atmosphere was brought down. Why couldn’t she be with Joe? Jonah? J-something. “Instead of aiming for the FBI, where you’re not even guaranteed a job.”

“Which is why I majored in criminology. Minored in digital forensics. And I’m earning my masters in forensic psychology.” You responded, not sparing her a glance.

“And if you still don’t-”

“I think my credentials will be impressive regardless.” You paused as the waitress stopped by, setting everyone’s plates down. You thanked her as she left, before looking at your mother. “Even if I don’t immediately get offered a job, I don’t mind. I can work my way to the FBI. I don’t get bored of something within a month.” Bella’s eyes widened and Este smirked to herself as she took a sip of her drink.

“I would sure hope not! College would have been a bad idea if you couldn’t work at something for a month.” Jessica, Este’s mother, tried to joke but your mother was relentless.

“I hope you fix your personality before you apply or they’ll never let you in through the door.”

“You don’t like it? I learned from you.” Your mother stood from her chair, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“I’m done.”

“Drive safe.” You called out to your mother’s retreating form and rolled your eyes as you turned to Este. “Drinks?”

“Drinks.”

Twenty-five years old…

“So, you’re about halfway done with your training at the Academy.” You sat across from your field counselor, Abby. “How have things been?”

“Andrew and I had some… creative differences with firearms training.”

“Creative differences?” Abby asked and you thought back to the day.

You had missed the vital shots multiple times, and you and Andrew both were getting irritated at each other. What was meant to be motivating turned snarky, which had started to turn condescending. You started off getting close to your vitals, and with each negative comment, your concentration turned to frustration which led to further off shots.

“If you could make these three shots so I can leave, that would be great. Come on, how are you going to ace rifle training but not handgun? I might as well talk to our program director and tell her your future in the Academy and FBI is a deadend. But if she ever needs a sharp-shooter…” And something snapped inside you, and you shot the five targets in front of you perfectly. Alternating between head and chest shots, straight in the middle. Bullseyes. You turned to face Andrew, walked towards him and set your gun in his hand.

“You may leave now.” You walked towards the doors of the firing range and called out. “See you tomorrow.”

“I see.” There was a hint of a smirk on her face as she spoke. “You know you can’t let people get to you like he did. It may have benefitted you this time, but there will come a time where you’ll reach your breaking point and lose your temper at your superior and risk your job.”

“You know about my parents, it’s kind of genetic.” You sighed. “But I will work on it. I know I need to.”

“Good. And I’ll have a word with Andrew about his motivational methods.” You let out a laugh before your session continued.

Thirty-one years old…

You sat in Hotch’s office and your body language screamed ‘angry.’ Your arms were crossed over your chest, your foot tapped against the floor, and if that wasn’t enough, the saying if looks could kill truly applied to you right now. If looks could kill, Aaron Hotchner would be a pile of dust in his chair. But like usual, Hotch’s body language was as usual. Professional, stoic, cold. He’d warmed up to the rest of the team, surprising you that he wasn’t truly emotionless after all. But that persona never came out around you. All that came out was indifference at best. Disapproval at worst, often paired with anger. Disappointment. That’s all you’d ever be, huh?

You had been called to Hotch’s office after you got back from your latest case. You’d never seen Hotch as mad as he was then. To anyone else, it might seem like he got mad because he cared about you and your wellbeing. But that was not the case today. You didn’t follow his orders, and now you were to pay the consequences.

“I am slow to anger, but I toe the line as I think about the effects of your choices on the team. I look back on where we failed, but in every place I checked, the only common thread?”

“Let me guess, me?” You interrupted.

“Your disrespect.” Hotch narrowed his eyes at you.

“You call me inexperienced, a danger to the team.” You leaned forward as you began to speak.

“Agent, if you’ve got something to say-” You raised your hand, cutting him off.

“Name a time and place, face to face. Then we can really talk.” You rested your hands on his desk, matching the expression he was giving you.

“That is enough, Agent Y/L/N.” Hotch spoke after a minute of your stare-down, and you settled back into your seat.

“I’m just an agent, trying to do my best for our team. I don’t want to fight but I won’t apologize for doing what I believe was right.”

“Careful, Y/N, or it’ll be the end of your career at the BAU. Not mine.”

“I won’t apologize for my actions, if that’s what you’re looking for.” You shrugged.

“Then be prepared to meet with me and Strauss tomorrow morning to discuss your placement on this team.” Hotch leaned back in his chair.

“Are you fucking serious? Every agent on this team has gone against orders. Even you have given the middle finger to direct orders several times. I make one call that goes against your orders, one that allows us to save the hostage and take in the unsub, and now you’re threatening my career?” You scoffed and looked your boss in the eyes as you stood up. “Unbelievable.”

“Nine sharp, agent.” Hotch kept eye contact with you as he spoke.

“Oh, I have the honor to be your obedient servant, sir.” You turned on your heel and stormed out of the office, slamming the door as you left.

Today…

You sat outside Andrew Walter’s house, lying in wait. Andrew lived in Baltimore now, having quit his job to work at a local FBI field office. You think a federal agent would have been more private about his life; it didn’t take Penelope Garcia to figure out where he worked. Where he lived. You had been waiting for the perfect moment to revisit him, and now you had it. Now was all waiting for the window of opportunity to hit. The window to open just enough for you to seize your chance and show him what all you had become since you graduated from the Academy.

The last light flickered off in his home and you looked down the street. No cars moving, no sounds of laughter or conversations could be heard from your spot. It was almost eerily silent, but there was a rush of an unknown emotion flooding through you. You tucked your gun into your waistband, snapping your gloves into place, and adjusting your hood over your hat. You got out of your car and walked up to the house, a smirk on your face.

---

“Come in.” Hotch glanced up from his paperwork, JJ standing in his doorway.

“I know we don’t typically take cases only involving one person.” JJ said as she walked over to Hotch’s desk. “The detective thinks there is a possibility it could be related to the Fairfax murder.”

“And do you?” Hotch held his hand out for the file and JJ set it in his hand before taking a seat.

“The possibility is there, but the similarities are basic. Both victims were men who died by gunshots. But our Fairfax victim was married, this guy is single. And in Baltimore. There’s a bit of distance between the two cities, but definitely a doable drive.”

“We’ve seen further.” Hotch opened the file and his brows furrowed. “And he died by gunshot?”

“There was some blunt force trauma involved, but the M.E. says the cause of death was the gunshot wound. All the other injuries were sustained antemortem.”

“Personal?”

“Or was our unsub physically incapable of subduing him before injuring him?” A beat of silence.

“Everyone else is here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. We have a case.”

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xjoonchildx · 4 years

Text

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter six: no one but you

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you. now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, smut

rating: 18+

word count: 5.6K

A/N: i sincerely hope you guys like the way this ends, it’s always so nerve-wracking to end a story! the epilogue to this story is posted as well and linked. thank you to every single person who sent sweet messages of support it means the world to me. SMUT WARNINGS APPLY IN THIS CHAPTER: oral (m/f), unprotected sex (only in fiction y’all) and hoseok thirst.

of course, i cannot post this story without shouting out some of the most supportive, killer people on this site. you guys truly mean the world to me @ladyartemesia @ppersonna @taetaewonderland @hobi-gif

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

*********************

There are perks to being the boss.

For Namjoon, it means calling the shots on the streets from his office in the sky. Rarely does he leave the climate-controlled comfort of his pristine headquarters to get his hands dirty in the day-to-day business of the organization he runs.

Tonight, he’s making an exception.

Yoongi drives. Like a bat out of hell, as always.

It’s a thirty-minute ride from downtown Seoul to Incheon Port without traffic but Yoongi is on pace to finish it in just twenty. Hoseok watches the lights on the expressway speed by from the backseat. He tries hard to focus on the information Namjoon shares, the details he’ll need in order to ensure he doesn’t put himself or anyone else in danger tonight.

But fuck, it’s so hard to concentrate with the taste of you still on his lips.

He scrubs a hand down his face and takes a deep breath. He forces himself to push the memory of your body in his hands and your skin in his mouth and your voice in his ear to the corner of his mind.

Then he goes over the information again.

Namjoon wants to be in place at least ten minutes before the scheduled meet so he can figure out what’s going on before the Ssijog knows he’s there with his men.

He wants guns to stay holstered unless he gives the signal.

He wants --

“You must have really scared the shit out of that guy, Jung,” Namjoon murmurs from the front seat. Hoseok snaps back into focus to search for his boss’s reflection in the side mirror and finds Namjoon already looking at him. “He’s been blowing up his contact since last night, begging for personal protection.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t do worse,” Hoseok shrugs. “I certainly could have.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt,” Namjoon agrees. “Someday you’ll have to tell me the story of how you managed to be outside of his apartment when his handler picked him up. Here I was, under the impression you had the night off.”

Hoseok swallows thickly.

“Just doing my job.”

There’s a twist to Namjoon’s mouth that Hoseok can’t read and it puts him on edge.

“Well, I must thank you for your dedication to your job,” Namjoon continues. “You’ve really gone above and beyond the call of duty for this assignment.”

Hoseok looks away from the mirror. “Yeah, sure,” he says quietly.

The car falls into an uncomfortable silence.

Yoongi clears his throat.

“So anyway --” he announces loudly, “-- Jimin and Tae were able to track Kang’s texts through some internet bullshit they mess around with. Apparently dude flipped out after you left his place and wouldn’t let up until his handlers agreed to meet him tonight.”

“At Incheon Port?” Hoseok asks, glad for the redirect. “That’s a hell of a drive for a chat.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Namjoon says under his breath.

The car falls silent once again.

**********************

Mun Kiwoo has a reputation for being messy.

The man at the top sets the tone for the organization, and Mun is no exception. His men are known for their brutality, his deals often go south, and by most accounts his syndicate is hanging on by a thread.

But it’s still hanging on.

Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi watch quietly from their vantage point behind a shipping container as Mun waits in the dark, cigarette in hand. He looks like an unmade bed -- shirt rumpled and half-tucked into his wrinkled dress pants. He lights one cigarette off of another as he answers a series of calls on his cell.

His agitation seems to rise each time it rings again.

Hoseok takes stock of the two guards Mun has at his side tonight. They’re bulky men with huge arms and round bodies -- the kind of guys who look dangerous due to sheer size, but would be slow to respond in a physical fight. Namjoon holds up two fingers to confirm they’re the only men with Mun and Hoseok nods.

Headlights bounce off the pavement after a few more minutes of waiting.

A black car pulls up close to the water’s edge and Mun Kiwoo ends his call just as he lights another cigarette.

Kang Donghyuk is the first out of the car, followed closely by his Ssijog handler. Kang is dragging his ass and even from a distance, Hoseok can make out the bandage over the side of his face.

Hope it hurts, motherfucker.

“Mr. Kang,” Mun Kiwoo’s voice is clear now, loud enough for all three men to hear. “You have been rather insistent about this meeting. I’m a busy guy. What do you want?”

All three men strain to listen to Donghyuk’s response, but it’s too muffled to catch. Yoongi brings his hands to his throat to make a choking gesture. Can’t hear shit, he mouths. You choked him too hard.

Hoseok rolls his eyes.

“That sounds like your problem,” Mun laughs in response to whatever Kang has said. “Not mine.”

Donghyuk gestures wildly as he tries to make his case, likely pleading for the protection of the Ssijog. Mun Kiwoo looks unmoved.

“I’m not interested in causing any more trouble with the Gajog, Mr. Kang. This entire situation has been a means to an end. Stirring more shit with Kim Namjoon is not in my best interest.”

Namjoon signals to Yoongi and Hoseok that it’s time to move. All three men step out from their cover behind the shipping container, hands in front of their bodies to demonstrate none are holding their weapons.

“Fucking hell,” Mun Kiwoo groans when he spots them. “I don’t have time for this shit.”

His guards bow up at his side, both men reaching for their guns. Mun has the good sense to raise a hand and stop them from pulling their firearms -- which keeps Yoongi and Hoseok from doing the same. All of the men face off in silence for a moment, each side waiting to see if the other will do something to break the fragile peace.

Kang Donghyuk whines under his breath and Hoseok shoots a warning glare at him. He drops his gaze to the ground and shuts his mouth.

“You say you don’t want trouble with me, Mun and yet --” Namjoon snarls, “-- you have this piece of shit working my sister. Explain.”

“You know how these rich boys are, Kim,” Mun chuckles. “They develop a bad habit -- or in this idiot’s case, two -- and daddy’s money isn’t enough anymore. They’re easy to buy.”

Donghyuk looks from Namjoon to Mun, panic in his wide eyes.

“They’re trying to kill me,” he rasps.

“So what?” Mun laughs. He smiles wide to reveal a mouth like an abandoned graveyard, teeth broken and scattered. “This guy thinks we’re friends,” he jeers, jerking a thumb in Donghyuk’s direction. “He’s too stupid to figure out that he served a purpose and now he doesn’t anymore. Simple as that.”

Namjoon sucks in a breath with obvious irritation.

“I’m still waiting to hear what any of this shit has to do with my sister.”

“Ah, yes,” Mun says, stubbing out his cigarette and getting back to the task at hand. “Listen, I don’t have anything against your sister personally, okay? Lim Joowon is my son and I want him back. He can’t spend the next 15 years behind bars. You understand that, right? Doing whatever it takes for your family?”

Namjoon utters a curse under his breath.

“I’ll give your sister some credit, though -- she’s tenacious. I thought she’d give up after we took her digital files,” Mun admits. “Instead she’s cost me a hell of a lot more money. I’ve had to start cutting a lot more checks to ensure this shit goes away.”

“She’s not the type to roll over and play dead, Mun,” Namjoon growls through gritted teeth.

“The pigheaded gene runs in the family, huh?” Mun grins. “Look, let me level with you Kim, man to man. I don’t even need your sister at this point. I’ve paid enough people to fuck this case from the inside out. But I won’t lie, she is my insurance. If any of the higher-ups start asking questions about why this case fell apart -- who better to point the finger at than the sweet young prosecutor with the dirty family connections, hmm?”

Namjoon tenses, hand reaching for the gun at his side. Yoongi stops him with a muttered warning.

“None of us give a fuck about what happens to your son, Mun,” Namjoon says. “What I have a problem with is you sending that piece of shit --” he points at the trembling Kang Donghyuk, “ -- into her fucking home. Invading her space. You crossed a line.”

“You’re right,” Mun agrees lightly. “It was rude. Uncalled for. I’m gonna apologize for it right now.”

He pulls his pistol from his side and the sound of clinking metal bounces off the shipping containers as everyone pulls their guns. Hoseok trains his pistol directly at the shaking Kang Donghyuk and silently prays for the chance to pull the trigger. Mun Kiwoo’s gun is pointed at Namjoon and Namjoon’s is pointed right back.

Then Mun’s face lights up with a bizarre smile. He swings the point of his pistol in the direction of Donghyuk and pulls the trigger twice.

Donghyuk sputters as he falls to the floor.

Hoseok and Yoongi exchange looks.

Namjoon stares at Mun incredulously.

“What?” Mun’s nonchalance is comical. “You wanted to do that too, right? Besides, that guy owes everyone in the city money. I promise you, his own mother won’t even miss him.”

“Jesus,” Yoongi mutters under his breath. “This guy is fucking nuts.”

Mun puts his pistol away and his men follow suit. Namjoon signals for Yoongi and Hoseok to do the same.

“Consider that a goodwill gesture,” Mun says breezily. “An official apology from me, to you. And please pass along my consideration to your sister. Please assure her that none of this is personal. But I will make sure my son stays out of prison. And like it or not, she’s going to play some kind of role in that.”

Namjoon stares off into the water.

“I can’t control my sister, Mun. She makes her own choices,” he says after a moment. “But let me be clear, this is the first and last polite discourse we’re going to have about this situation. I don’t want you, your goons or any --” he glances at the bleeding pile of Kang Donghyuk on the floor, “-- paid help going near her. Not in her office, not in her home. Nowhere. Are we clear?”

Mun Kiwoo lights another cigarette and smiles wide, the space in his teeth prominent against the gleaming ember hanging from his mouth.

“Crystal.”

On the way back to the car, Hoseok hears the heavy splash of Kang Donghyuk’s body hitting the water down below.

He shuts his eyes against the rush of pleasure he feels as he climbs into the backseat.

************************

YOU

Something isn’t right.

You stare at the empty seat across the conference table -- the one where Hyejin normally sits -- and something twists in your gut. She’s out sick today. You can’t even remember the last time she took a sick day.

All morning, you’ve tried to convince yourself that it’s no big deal. That you’re working yourself up for nothing.

But Donghyuk is out today, too.

Vaguely, you register the sound of your boss’s voice at the front of the room. Any minute now, you’ll be asked to brief the team on the status of your case, but you can’t think straight. You can’t focus on anything but the feeling in the pit of your stomach that something is wrong.

Your thoughts race back to last night, back to your brother taking his men away for business in the middle of the night.

Back to Hoseok.

You try not to think about what it felt like to have his warm body pressed against yours. The way he smelled like fresh laundry and spice. The way you unraveled the moment he touched you.

Your phone pulses with an incoming text.

namjoon: i’ve asked jungkook to bring you to the office tonight after work [ 1:25 PM ]

namjoon: a lot to discuss [ 1:26 PM ]

Your brain grinds to a halt as you stare at the messages.

It’s like everything is wrong and everything is right, all at the same time.

“Miss. Kim?”

You look up to see your boss staring at you, one expectant eyebrow raised. You take a deep breath, line up your papers and stand to take your place at the front of the room.

****************************

The sense of déjà vu that hits you as you make the long walk across your brother’s office is nearly overwhelming. This is exactly how this entire mess began weeks ago -- with you summoned to see Namjoon after hours, with Yoongi and Hoseok flanking him on either side.

But there is one thing different about tonight.

When you briefly lock gazes with Hoseok as you make your way to Namjoon’s plush chair, there is a warmth behind his dark eyes you can see from a distance. It’s a complete contrast to the first time you ever saw him, when you thought you could freeze to death from the ice in his glare.

You look away before anyone can catch the flush working its way up your neck.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” you brother begins evenly. “I finally have some answers for you about what’s going on.”

“Well, I’m ready to hear them,” you exhale, taking a seat. Your eyes drift over the papers strewn scattered across his desk.

“We’ve learned that the reason the Ssijog want your case against Lim Joowon to fold is because Lim is Mun Kiwoo’s son.”

You raise a brow.

“That’s news to me. I didn’t even know Mun Kiwoo had a son.”

“Neither did we,” Namjoon admits. “Apparently this is his only son and the man he intends to pass control of the Ssijog down to. So it makes sense that he’s so hell-bent on seeing this case fall apart.”

He picks one of the papers off his desk.

“This is the more problematic piece of the puzzle,” Namjoon says quietly. Your chest tightens in response to the expression on his face. “Jimin and Taehyung tracked a Ssijog account making payouts. Payouts to people in your office.”

He holds the piece of paper out to you.

“There are six names on that list.”

You take a deep breath before taking the sheet from his hands.

Your eyes scan down the document, taking in the blows, one by one. Two receptionists. One paralegal.

Lee Hyejin.

Kang Donghyuk.

Park Soo.

You say nothing as you stare at the list, taking in the names again.

Someone you called a friend. Someone you’d allowed into your bed. The boss you’d bent over backwards trying to impress. You stare at the black-and-white evidence of betrayal in your hands, reading the words over and over -- expecting to feel sadness or rage or humiliation or something.

Nothing comes.

“Give us a moment, would you please?”

Yoongi and Hoseok file out of the room quietly at Namjoon’s command. The second the heavy door to the office clicks shut, he clears his throat. “There is something else we need to discuss, Amsaja,” your brother continues quietly. “Kang Donghyuk is dead.”

“Good.”

Namjoon’s eyes go wide at the quick, calm delivery of your response.

You stand to walk to his sideboard to pour a drink. You have no idea what’s inside the decanter, only that whatever it is promises a burn you want to feel right now. You pour a glass and take a sip, leaning against the heavy wooden piece.

“Did you kill him?”

“No. The Ssijog beat us to it,” Namjoon admits. “But Hoseok paid Donghyuk a personal visit at home to convey our -- displeasure -- at his involvement in this mess. He damned near choked that man to death hours before Mun Kiwoo put two bullets in him.”

“I’m sorry anyone has ever tried you because I promise you they are going to pay.”

The words Hoseok spoke in your kitchen surface in your mind.

They’d sent a bolt of pleasure through you at the time -- triggering a kind of primitive response you’d be embarrassed to admit out loud.

And somehow that response pales in comparison to what you’re feeling right now.

A normal woman wouldn’t find satisfaction in the idea of Donghyuk cowering in fear inside his apartment. A normal woman wouldn’t feel warmth spread through her entire body at the mental image of Hoseok wrapping his hands around Donghyuk’s throat. You slip a finger under the collar of your blouse and search for your scar -- closing your eyes at the familiar feel of the raised skin.

You remind yourself that you are not a normal woman.

“Hoseok uncovered Kang’s involvement with the Ssijog even before we found the payouts.” Your brother pauses, a wry twist to his mouth as he continues. “He can be a very determined man when something is important to him.”

Namjoon holds your gaze for just a beat too long after delivering that statement. You look away and walk to his office window.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now, Amsaja,” you brother says. You can hear the sound of him pouring his own drink behind you. “Your silence has me concerned.”

You’re thinking about every time Hyejin feigned concern for you and tried to get you to open up. The days Donghyuk insisted he take you to lunch or to dinner when you insisted you were too swamped. The bullshit little speech Park Soo gave you the night of the charity dinner about keeping Seoul from falling into the hands of criminals.

You’re thinking about what a joke they all are -- dressing up and looking down their noses at the criminal element they claim to despise. Wearing their fake piety like a badge of honor and paying for their fine things with dirty money.

You’re thinking that you’d rather choose a hundred street thugs over any one of their kind. At least your brother has the balls to wear his sins on his sleeve.

Namjoon joins you at the window, glass in hand.

“What I’m thinking, Jaegyueo,” you say calmly, “Is that a lot of things are starting to make sense for me. I haven’t felt this clear in a very long time. So, thank you.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your brother’s mouth and you return it.

You clink your glasses together in a toast.

***********************

You are two whiskeys deep when you leave Namjoon’s office.

Hoseok is waiting in a chair in the hallway. He stands to his feet when you appear from behind the heavy wooden door.

You suck in a breath as you take him in -- the sharp beauty of his face and the soft curve of his mouth and the way his suit hugs the lines of his lean body. You realize, with more than a little embarrassment, that you are staring.

“I’ve got the car warming downstairs,” Hoseok says carefully. “If you’re ready to go, that is.”

“Yes. Hoseok, I --” you swallow thickly, “-- I never apologized for what I said to you. I didn’t mean those things. I’m so sorry.”

Hoseok steps close and reaches one hand out to tuck your hair behind your ear. You shut your eyes, leaning into his touch and inhaling his scent.

“You’ve had a hell of a night,” he murmurs. “We can talk about that some other time. Let’s get you home, yeah?”

You open your eyes to look up at him just as Yoongi rounds the corner and stops dead in his tracks.

“Glad this isn’t awkward,” he mutters, before turning to walk back the same way he came.

**********************

The air in Hoseok’s car is thick with tension on the ride home.

You’ve stopped pretending to not stare, eyes fixed on Hoseok while his eyes stay glued to the road. He guides the car through a sharp turn and you catch the way he winces as his hand grips the steering wheel.

A throb of guilt hits you square in the chest.

“You’re hurt.”

“Nah,” Hoseok deflects quickly. “Just a little sore.”

He won’t look at you. Why won’t he look at you?

“Namjoon told me you nearly choked Donghyuk to death,” you say quietly, studying his face for any reaction. He slows the car to a stop at a red light and rubs his fingers across his mouth, stares out of his window.

“I wanted to kill him,” he admits. He takes his aching hand off the steering wheel and flexes his fingers as if reliving the memory of that night. “I almost did.”

That embarrassing reaction flares inside of you again. This time it slides down your back and pools low between your legs and you have to squeeze your thighs together in response. You shiver as you remember the promises he made while pressing his body to yours.

“Tell me what you want. I swear to God, I’ll give it to you.”

You’ve never wanted anything as badly as you do Jung Hoseok right now.

*************************

You force yourself to wait for the elevator doors to shut.

The second they do, you crush your body and your mouth to Hoseok’s. If you catch him off-guard, there’s no way to tell -- not with the way he immediately backs you into the elevator wall, slotting one knee between your thighs.

“No one gets to hurt you anymore,” he groans the words into the shell of your ear, teeth scraping against the sensitive skin of your neck. “Just like no one gets to touch you anymore. No one but me.”

The strangled sigh that escapes you is the closest thing Hoseok is going to get to a thank you right now. You whimper in agreement, gasping when his fingers grip your ass to pull you flush against him. The swollen outline of his cock brushes against your stomach and you shudder.

The elevator ride is too long and too short, all at the same time. Hoseok backs you through the doors as soon as they open, fumbling in his pocket for the keys while you suck bruises into his throat. By some miracle, he gets the door open and both of you through it in one piece.

“Fuck,” Hoseok swears as you wrap your arms around his neck, grinding against his insistent cock. He has to drag you both into the bedroom as you press against him like a dead weight, teeth nipping at his bottom lip as you both stumble into the bedroom. You drop out of his grasp when the bed hits the back of your knees.

Hoseok stands back, chest heaving with exertion.

“I need you to hear you say it,” he pants. “Please.”

You sit up straight on the edge of the bed and unbutton your blouse, slipping it off without hesitation. “No one gets to touch me,” you breathe, reaching to unclasp your bra. You toss it away.

“No one but you.”

Hoseok’s eyes darken to near black.

He shrugs off his suit jacket and slowly pulls off his holster and gun, placing both carefully on top of your dresser. Then he turns back, body looming over yours. He cups your cheek with one large hand, looking down at you with such heat that your breath hitches in your chest.

You lean into his touch, fingertips grazing the contour of his cock beneath his suit pants.

“You promised to give me anything I want,” you whisper, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. He nods slowly, the rasp in his voice betraying the calm on his face.

“Anything. Name it.”

“I want to take care of you,” you say, pulling the hem of his shirt out of his pants. Your fingers work the buttons open, one by one. “Let me.”

Hoseok exhales a heavy breath as you open his shirt and stroke your hands down his chest. You give yourself a moment to admire the lean strength of his body, fingers stroking over the metal tags that hang just above one dark, flat nipple.

His stomach tightens and his cock twitches in his pants when you tilt forward to press a soft kiss to the golden skin just above his belt. You work it open with unsteady hands and his pants follow just a moment later.

“I want to make you feel good,” you whisper, nuzzling the outline of his length with your cheek. You push his boxers down his slim hips just enough to expose the head of his cock. “I don’t want you to think about anything but this.”

Hoseok groans when you flick your tongue against him.

His cock throbs under your fingertips through the fabric of his underwear when you dip down to tease the head with your mouth. You lap at the salty moisture gathered at the swollen tip and his head drops back.

“Sweetheart, please --” he grits out, hands reaching for your hair. He winds his fingers through the strands and jerks when you rake your teeth across the wet ridge under the head of his cock. “-- don’t tease me.”

Some other time you might play the delayed gratification game with him. You might take hours to torture him and keep him dangling at the precipice of pleasure. Tonight, though -- the only thing you want to do is make him come so hard he can’t see straight.

“I won’t,” you promise sweetly, pulling the rest of his thick length free from his boxers to wrap your warm fingers around him. You flick your gaze up to appreciate the way his head is tipped back in pleasure, lips parted.

“Look at me,” you murmur, pumping him with languid strokes.

His eyes are glassy with arousal when he opens them to gaze down at you. You make sure he’s watching as you take him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you draw your mouth across his length. He gathers your hair in his hands so he can appreciate the unobstructed view of your private show.

“No one gets to touch you anymore,” you whisper. You take him down as far as you can again, tongue dragging against the thick vein that runs the length of his cock. You are panting when you pull off him, tongue running the seam of your lower lip as you catch your breath.

“No one but me.”

Hoseok’s dick jerks in your hand in response, hand tightening in your hair as you lick a long stripe up his shaft. He chokes out a moan as you lick at the sensitive spot just under the head of his cock, eyes fixed on his.

“No more,” he croaks.

You pull your mouth away reluctantly, tongue swiping at the taste of him on your lips and the sight seems to set him off. He grabs your face with both hands, groaning into your mouth as he claims it.

He pulls away, panting.

“Lie back,” he demands between breaths. You comply without question.

Hoseok leans over you, arms braced on either side of your body as he drops his head down to take one nipple between his teeth. Your hips jerk at the stimulation and you squirm underneath him, thighs slippery with your own excitement. He laves at both nipples slowly, thoroughly, until they are aching and wet. Then he trails a soft line of kisses back up to your ear.

“I want to taste what’s mine,” he whispers, and a pang of arousal hits you so hard you forget to breathe. You lift your hips to help him pull your skirt away along with your soaked panties and he sinks to his knees on the floor in front of you. Every muscle in your body locks in anticipation.

Hoseok nudges your legs apart with his hands, placing gentle kisses along your inner thighs. His dark eyes are half-hooded with pleasure by the time he drapes your legs over his shoulders.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” he groans when you are fully spread open for him. He drops a kiss on your mound and your body jolts at the sensation, every nerve ending standing at attention. He moves lower, long fingers tracing the outline of your swollen cunt and you suck in a breath.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, dipping one finger into your damp heat. “Is this all for me?”

“Yes,” you choke out, hands gripping the sheets as his finger flexes inside of you.

“Only for you.”

Hoseok makes a sound of satisfaction deep in his chest before sealing his lips over your aching clit. You shudder against his mouth when he pulls back to soothe you with the flat of his tongue. “You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined how you would taste,” Hoseok groans, licking deeply into your wetness. “It doesn’t even come close. Nothing comes close to this.”

“Hoseok --” your hands come off of the sheets to grip into his hair, “-- Hoseok, please don’t stop.”

Your senses are so heightened that just the pressure of the heel of his hand against your cunt is making you crazy. His finger crooks deep inside you, stroking against your swollen walls while his lips and teeth toy with your clit. You whine at the stimulation, at the wet drag of his tongue that has you writhing beneath him.

“You’re close sweetheart, I can hear it,” Hoseok’s voice is ragged with arousal. “Let me hear you. Come for me.”

You clutch his hair between your fingers, moaning brokenly as the heat between your legs simmers to a boil.

“Hoseok --”

“That’s it,” he praises you with dirty words spoken in the sweetest way. “Let me taste you. Let me hear you.”

Hoseok is prepared the moment you come apart.

He grasps your hips firmly in those large, warm hands of his -- tongue and lips persistent as the live wire inside you tightens and snaps. The force of your orgasm shakes your entire body and leaves you begging and breathless. Hoseok savors every drop of your release until your hips sink back into the mattress and you protest weakly against the threat of overstimulation.

The mattress dips under you as Hoseok joins you on the bed, lips swollen with use and mouth marked with your taste. His head dips into the hollow of your neck, nipping gently at the skin, while his fingers skate over the soft skin of your stomach and thighs.

You shiver in his hold, closing your eyes for a moment to savor the feeling of his body on yours.

“I want to watch you come like that every day,” Hoseok whispers into your ear. “Only for me.”

“Only for you,” you agree in a whisper, finding your voice after what seems like ages.

You slip one hand between you, fingers wrapping firmly around the rigid cock pressed against your stomach. Hoseok groans when you tighten your hand around him.

“Hoseok,” you breathe, feeling a pulse between your legs that seems to beat in time with the throb of his cock in your palm, “Fuck me please, I’m losing my mind.”

His hoarse chuckle sends a shiver up your spine as he moves to cover you completely with his body. He lines up the head of his cock at your entrance and you tilt your hips up into his.

“Please,” you plead again, lifting your head to brush your lips against his. “Now.”

He sinks his cock into you slowly, inch by inch, groaning at the tight fit of your cunt around him. The stretch inside of you is nearly too much -- you whimper when he bottoms out and he drops his forehead to yours.

“You okay? Am I hurting you?”

His entire body feels like a rubber band ready to snap -- coiled energy waiting to be released. But he holds back the instinct to move until you nod your agreement.

“You feel so good,” you murmur, nudging his hips to move with your own. You stroke your hands down the slick skin of his back. “I’m so full right now.”

Hoseok swears under his breath as he tentatively rocks his hips against yours, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. You wrap your legs around him as the discomfort subsides and the only sensation that’s left is the pleasant pressure of his cock against your walls.

Hoseok’s hips move harder as your whimpers melt into moans.

“Dammit,” he swears, head dropping low between his shoulder blades. “So tight and wet for me. So perfect for me.”

You look up to take in the sight of his perfect face slack with pleasure, mouth parted and face flushed with exertion. His dog tags hang from his neck, swaying as his hips begin to piston in earnest. You pull on them to force his mouth close to yours.

“Only for you,” you whisper, “No one else.”

Hoseok’s steady rhythm stutters when you whisper those words into his mouth and press your lips to his. His hips jerk wildly as his release races up his shaft. He laces his fingers into yours, fucking you deep into the mattress in those final seconds as he loses all control to chasing his end.

He comes with your name on his lips.

************************

Hoseok breathes deeply into your hair as you stroke your fingers across the lean lines of his chest, fingers tracing the metal outline of his dog tags. You lie together like that for a while, skin to skin.

Your thoughts are loud in the quiet.

You’re used to the bitter sting of betrayal by now.

Long before Lee Hyejin or Kang Donghyuk or Park Soo ever sold you out for a check, your own father betrayed you for the bottle. You of all people know too well that most people aren’t to be trusted.

But then Hoseok’s fingers drag lightly across your back and they bring you back to the here and now -- back to the promise he made to you tonight.

“No one gets to hurt you anymore.”

And you decide to trust just one more time.

************************

@saintjeonofbusan @lemonjoonah @illnevertrustmyselfagain @sunkissed725 @taetaewonderland @shadowhale @sugaminyoonjiji @jinhitwhore @trust-me-im-joly @daydreambrliever @jjeonjoon @ultraanonymousey @yoon-bug @multistantrash17 @poohsaidhi @alyboo-jpeg @sahmfanficbts @yoongissugarmommy @ppersonna @p-polaroid @vi-hoshi @stressedinmedschool247 @jgissle12 @ctvrty @btsnatalena @strawbewymiwk @stephleee @jalexa83 @livanthi @fantasybangtan @trviahope @mono-kookie@hauntedlilies @sugasaidbultaoreune @yeojaa @secret-alphabets @hodginss@parkjimin-persona

#hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #bts mafia au #hoseok mafia au #bts tsundere #ficswithluv #btswriterscollective #ksmutclub #btscreatorscorner #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub

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twomoonstwosuns · 4 years

Text

at first sight [bonus chapter]

back to you [series masterlist]

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warning: none? language?

word count: 2.5k

a/n: well im sorry this took so long to get up...we are struggling hard right now. and if you are too, know you're not alone and we’ll get through this <3 stay tuned for this same chapter but from poe’s POV

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New year, new me. You told yourself the same thing at the beginning of each school year.

Although it was usually just said on New Year’s Eve in preparations for the brand new year, you felt it applied to starting a new semester as well: new classes, new teachers, new schedule, new routine. It was also the beginning of your senior year of college, your last first day of school ever. So in a way, you were preparing for something new. You’d graduate before you knew it and then adulthood would creep up on you.

But you could hardly wait to see what the next two semesters would bring you in the meantime.

You made sure to leave your apartment early to stop at your favorite coffee stand in the student center. Waving at your friend Qi’Ra behind the counter, you got yourself in line and replied to your mom and sister’s happy first day texts.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

The familiar voice of your best friend Karé made you smile and you squealed quietly as you hugged her. She had spent the night with her boyfriend Snap after being out of town the last week before school, so you hadn’t seen her after you moved in.

“I’ve missed you! How was your vacation?”

“Awesome as usual. Weather was amazing, we spent everyday out on the water. Snap’s sunburn is finally starting to heal.”

“God yeah, you sent me that picture of his back…that looked awful.”

She nodded. “He was all ‘oh, there’s lots of clouds in the sky, it’s not going to be that bad’ and now I get to hold this over him for the rest of his life.”

You laughed as she rolled her eyes as you finally got to the counter. Qi’Ra already knew your order by heart and, like the first day of every new semester, she gave you your drink free of charge. She whipped it up right away, handing it to you with the promise of getting together soon. You and Karé walked outside, the bright sunshine making your drink sweat and the both wish you didn’t have to spend the next couple hours stuck inside.

“So, how’s the stuff with your dad going?”

You shrugged. “If I had spoken to him at all since he walked out, I’d have something to tell you.”

Karé’s shoulders slumped. “No…seriously?”

You sighed and nodded as you stirred your drink.

“Not one word. I told you my uncle came by a few days after he left to tell us he was okay?” Karé nodded. “A couple of weeks went by and the next thing I know, he’s filing for divorce. But he hasn’t actually talked to Tallie and I.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry…”

You sighed heavily and shook your head. “It’s whatever. Nothing I can do. Haven’t talked to him since and he abandoned us for his secretary so I don’t plan on talking to him at all.”

Karé nodded slowly and reached over and squeezed your arm and you gave her a small smile of appreciation.

“Anyway…what class are you off to first?”

“My advanced math class.” You made a face and she chuckled. “Yeah, you’re not jealous at all, are you?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, I get to start out my day with my half semester class…three hours, twice a week, tons of homework.”

“Fun. Who’s your professor?”

You grabbed your phone from your pocket, bringing up your schedule and looking at the details.

“Uhhh, Dameron. Heard of him?”

“I think he’s one of the newer teachers here.”

“Well, hopefully he’s good.” You took a sip of your drink and checked the time on your phone. “Guess I’ll go find out.”

“See you later, then.”

Karé gave you a quick hug and you walked in opposite directions. You walked to the building of your classroom and though you were grateful for the air conditioning, you hoped that since it was the first day you’d be let out early. The sun was out, flowers were still blooming along the sidewalks despite the late season. Fall semester was always the one you dreaded the most…stuck inside staring at four blank walls during your favorite kind of weather.

The classroom was on the third level, which meant minimal traffic in the halls and big windows that showed a great view of campus. The blinds were open, allowing sunlight to flood into the room and making it that much more welcoming. A few students were already seated and the professor nowhere in sight but his stuff at his desk. You made your way into the room, not finding a friend yet, and walked to a seat right around the middle of the room. You took your things out and waited and scrolled through three different social media apps as more students trickled in. Your name was called and you looked up and saw a girl you worked with the previous semester and smiled as she sat down next to you. At least you kind of knew one person in the class.

“Alright, let’s get started.”

One glance up at the source of the voice was not enough as you practically did a double take. Your professor was an extremely handsome man. Dark hair sat on top of his head in a mess of curls that laid just between styled and unruly. You could see from your seat that his eyes were dark…brown, maybe. He was young; you guessed that he couldn’t be more than thirty-five. As he came around from behind his desk, you took notice of the way his dark blue jeans fit snugly around big thighs. His sleeves were pushed up to show off tan forearms and as he leaned back against his desk, he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest.

“Good morning, everyone.” Three simple words grabbed the attention of every girl in class. “I’m Professor Dameron. I hope you all had a great summer. I don’t know about some of you, but I am very excited to get this semester going.”

There was some polite laughter. He was using a light, friendly tone of voice, making sure his very first impression on people wouldn’t wasn’t a bad one.

“Subject-wise, this is one of my favorite classes to teach. The only way I could get this class in this year was to teach it in half the amount of time as a normal class. I’m warning you now, this is going to be a busy class. We are fitting about fifteen weeks worth of stuff into seven weeks. Attendance is going to be very, very important.”

Some of the students visibly gulped, others nodded slowly as the realization of how much work would have to go into this class started to sink in. “Don’t worry, I will have lots of resources to help you guys. Um, just an example…I will make all of the lectures and slides available on the portal after class, including any key notes from the textbook and discussions that come up during class. That being said, you still need to attend class. I’ll go over more of this when we go through the syllabus.”

You admired him as he spoke. The hint of smile on his face showed his excitement for the class and the new semester. His voice was smooth like honey and you were sure you could listen to him spout off the most boring stuff in the world and not tire of it.

“First things first…attendance.” He turned to grab his clipboard and you and the girl next to you both checked out his ass. “In lied of just calling your names, we’re going to do an icebreaker.”

The collection of heavy sighs made him chuckle lightly. “I know, I know…they’re not always fun and you’ll probably do a whole bunch more after today. Personally, I like to get to know my students. We’ll be spending a lot of time together this semester and the more comfortable you feel talking to me, the more open you’ll be to telling me what you need to help you succeed in this class. So, let’s do it and get it over with. Tell me your name, something fun you did over the summer, your favorite type of music and…what do you think? Favorite color? Favorite animal? “Let’s do favorite animal.”

Glancing around, you saw people look anywhere but at their teacher, hoping they wouldn’t catch his eye and make them go first.

“Alright, come on guys, you’re acting like I’m going to pull your teeth out. I’ll go first. My name is Poe, this summer I visited my dad in Colorado where I grew up and saw friends that live on both coasts. I’m a big fan of classic rock but catch me jamming to a pop song every now and then…” That got some laughs from the class and he laughed with them. “Seriously, anything by the Weeknd.”

“The Weeknd has a lot of songs about sex,” the girl next to you whispered and you nearly choked as you took a sip out of your water bottle.

“And my favorite animal is a dog. Alright, let’s start in the back.”

One by one students introduced themselves. He asked questions about their summer jobs and their summer vacations, genuinely interested in the details and making them feel comfortable talking to him. A couple of people named weird animals as their favorite, such as lizards and dinosaurs, that spurred further discussions and got the class completely off track. It was all fun and games until you got to your row and you counted how many people were before you and practiced what you would say in your head.

“Okay, um, I’m Y/N…” Poe looked at the attendance list, finding your name and marking you down in attendance. “I didn’t do anything super special over the summer, just worked my two jobs and went to the cabin with friends and family. I like pretty much any kind of music, as long as it’s got a good beat I don’t really care what genre it is…though I am a sucker for pop music sometimes. And my favorite animal is an elephant.”

Poe cracked a smile and you let out a quiet sigh of relief as the girl next to you introduced herself. As social as you were, you still hated speaking in front of a classroom full of people.

“Okay, see? That wasn’t so bad.” Poe teased as the last person finished speaking. A few people laughed and you smiled. Almost an hour into class and you already knew this would be one of the classes you’d look forward to the most. “Let’s start going over the syllabus. I’ll have you pass these down and I’ll bring it up on the screen here…”

He handed a stack of papers to a student in the front row and they started passing them down. Poe went back around his desk and connected his laptop to the projector. The desktop image of a Corgi laying in the grass with a toy appeared and you along with half the girls in the class let out not subtle aww’s.

“That’s my dog, Beebs.” Poe smiled sheepishly when he noticed the screen had popped up.

“How old is he?” One of the girls from the back asked.

“He’s probably three, three and a half…I rescued him as a puppy so I’m not too sure.”

More aww’s filled the room as he brought the syllabus up onto the screen. You grabbed one when it reached you and passed it along and a quick glance through the five pages showed the class schedule and detailed expectations. When everyone had a copy, he started going over it, talking about the schedule in extreme detail and laying out what a typical class day would look like.

Poe finished up the syllabus and gave you a fifteen minute break before diving into the first chapter. His teaching style was the dream, the way that every teacher should teach: not too fast, not too slow, answering every single question before moving on, and making sure everyone was keeping up.

Despite it being a three hour class, you no longer dreaded it…you knew that Poe would do as much as he could to help you all succeed.

“Alright, homework for Thursday: chapter two, print out the study guide and start working on it. We’ll finish our chapter one discussion then as well. You’re good to go.”

You gathered up your things, shoving them into your backpack and checking the time to see you had just enough to grab something to eat before your next class. You had just reached the top of the stairs when you realized you hadn’t put your water bottle into your backpack. Letting out an annoyed groan, you doubled back up the stairs towards your classroom. You snuck in past a couple of students that were just leaving and beelined for your desk, making Poe look up at you.

“Sorry, forgot my water bottle.”

You found it tucked under your seat and grabbed it, giving him a small smile as you passed to head back out the door.

“Why elephant?”

Looking back at him, you saw an easy smile on his face. “Sorry?”

“You said your favorite animal was an elephant. Usually it’s household pets or animals that live in the forest…or apparently lizards and t-rex’s. Why elephant?”

You shrugged with a nervous smile. “I, um…I don’t know. I just think they’re beautiful and strong and they roll around in the mud and water and act like such babies…baby elephants actually suck on their trunks like babies suck on their fingers—“

“Do they?” You blushed hard, feeling like you just made a fool of yourself. “So you don’t just think they’re cute…you’re practically an expert on them?”

His tone wasn’t teasing like you expected, but instead curious at the knowledge you shared.

“No, I actually saw that on one of those random Facebook videos.”

A heartfelt laugh erupted from his chest and you laughed with him.

“I know what you’re talking about,” he said as he continued packing up his bag. “They’re those videos that are on random pages you liked years ago or from a news source…I’ve actually found some good recipes from them.”

“So you know. Random but good information.”

He nodded and you felt your phone buzz in your hand. You looked down at it and saw a message and noticed the time.

“I should go, um I have class…I’ll see you around, Mr. Dameron.”

You gave him a small wave and internally cringed at yourself as you headed towards the door, the flush of embarrassment in your face.

It was going to be an interesting semester.

tag list [closed] - @ah-callie @gloomygoregirl @leilei-draws @imaginecrushes @i-ievu @brianamaree @yeeintensifies @spider-starry @krazykatkay456 @milleniawrites @afootnoteinyourhappiness @easterncryptid @my-child-gaara @myrandom-fandomlife @onebatch--twobatch @the-cry-of-youth @p3nny4urth0ught5 @porgiez @umchrisevans @galaxy-of-stories @seeking-a-great--perhaps @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @dameronsgalaxygal @mserynlarsen @yougottakeeponkeepinon @linibirdimagine @hannie2k @starrykitn @cloud-leader @damnyoudameron @liadamerondjarin @april-14-blog @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @xremember-me-notx @obiwanownsmyass @princessxkenobi @yourbucky084 @frietiemeloen @softly-sad @xxidontwikeitxx @roserrys @clairesmunchkin @justanotherblonde23 @voidmonny @neaveloren @sergeantkane

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron fanfiction #back to you series #modern poe dameron #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron x reader insert

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fortheloveoffanfic · 3 years

Text

Behind Closed Doors

Keanu Reeves x OFC (Emma Mathers) A/n- Just a random AU I wrote way back when.

Summary- An AU where the Emma (OFC), is hired to take care of the Keanu Reeves' kids; twins Mathew and Poppy Reeves. Tension between a boss and his young employee rise, but nothing good is ever easy.

Masterlist (very incomplete by adding it here nontheless)

Warnings- Brief NSFW/SMUT mentions

Prologue

His hands, surprisingly rough, slid the length of her body, starting at the curve of her ass, all the way up to the supple contour of her breasts. Lips peppered hot, wet, open mouthed kisses to her chest, Keanu's rough scruff bruising her silken skin, "You taste so good," he mumbled, almost too taken by her to speak.

Emma's only response was a breathy moan as her head lolled back, her long dark hair brushing the center of her back. When Keanu's hands inched forward, his thumbs pressing into her pebbled nipples, the sounds leaving her plump lips grew louder and she ground on him encouragingly. "What do you want sweetheart?" His low, gruff voice, the one she'd grown used to hearing for months, though in a far different capacity, filled her ears. Drunk on him, Emma clumsily felt around his chest, eventually digging her nails into his shoulders.

She knew what she wanted, Emma, for as long as she'd known herself, always knew what she wanted. That very evening, straddling his lap, feeling his girth pressed against her longing heat, both their bodies begging for what had been months in the making, Emma still knew what she wanted. It was the same thing she'd wanted as she'd grown to know Keanu. But the only question was, how'd she even get there?

7 months earlier

"And you can start tonight?" His dark, whiskey eyes were practically pleading with her, and it was the first time that Emma considered that someone of Keanu's stature could be desperate. They were at his office at Arch, a sleek glass table separating them, and in his hand, he held a manila folder containing every piece of information she'd given him about herself, and probably what he'd had his people dig up too.

Emma hadn't expected to just be thrust into the job when she applied for it. Hell, she wasn't even expecting to get it, things hadn't been going her way lately anyway. If they were, she wouldn't even be sitting in Keanu's office, discussing the job she'd heard of from the friend of a friend's friend. But alas, she needed the money. In fact, she was desperate for it, and coincidentally, Keanu was in dire need of a nanny. "I……" Hesitating, Emma thought back on all the warnings her mother had given her about jobs like that; it starts with the kids and next thing you know you're cleaning the toilets. But still, what other choice did she have; thanks to her flaky roommate, she was out of an apartment, the job that she'd worked her ass off to get had miraculously gone to someone who was far more connected than she was, and student loans weren't going to pay themselves.

"Yeah," finally, Emma nodded stiffly, "I can start tonight." When that seemed to sudden, she added, "Are you sure you don't want……like a trial period, you know where I get to know them a bit, see if they like me? See if you like me?"

"Honestly," Keanu chuckled, closing the folder and standing from his desk, "I'd be surprised if you make it through the night. Poppy and Matt haven't been able to keep a nanny for longer than a couple weeks."

Well that wasn't alarming at all. Not. Trying to laugh it off the way he did, Emma followed his lead and stood too, collecting her jacket and draping it over her elbow, proceeding to follow Keanu out. "I'm sure they're perfectly sweet," she smiled tightly and though he couldn't see it, considering she was a couple paces behind as they made their way through the desolate shop, fear lingered in her hazel orbs.

"Oh! Don't get me wrong," Keanu carried on, holding the front door open for her as they left the building, "They're great kids," she could hear the pride in his tone as Keanu spoke of his twins, "Fun, adventurous, adorable. But they aren't too keen on new people, especially if they think that someone's just gonna pack up and leave one day."

Noting the drop in his tone, a clear indicator that he didn't want to press the issue much further, Emma frowned, remembering everything she'd pieced together on the internet. It wasn't much, considering how private he was, but what she could gather was that his girlfriend had split a year after they'd had the twins, leaving him to raise them on his own. It wasn't much, and Emma was positive that there was more than what was out in the open, but as she got into the passenger seat of Keanu's car, she could easily tell that he didn't want to get into it. So instead, she just buckled up and listened to him shift the conversation back to his five year olds, listing some of the things that he wanted her to know before meeting them.

"Daddy!" A pair of giddy, little voices, jumping with excitement, grew louder as the sound of light feet pattering on porcelain drew nearer. In an instant, two dark haired children came bounding towards Keanu, who was already crouched with open arms.

"We missed you," the girl, Poppy said, hanging onto her father's neck, planting a kiss on his bearded cheek.

"Yeah," Matt was the one to pull away first, though, it was to eye Emma suspiciously. "Who's that?"

At that, Keanu stood, lifting Poppy up into his arms when she refused to let go, and ruffling Matt's hair when he clung to Keanu's jean clad leg, "Pop, Matty, this is Emma Mathers, if things go well, she's going to be your new nanny."

Groaning, Matt hung his little head, slumping his shoulders, and simultaneously, Poppy's grip on her father grew tighter, she was clearly the more reserved of the two. "Another one?" Matt, who wasn't too smitten with the idea, solemnly looked up at Keanu, and Emma smiled faintly realizing how much the boy looked like him, "Why can't you just take care of us?"

Sighing quietly, "You know I do my best bud," hugging him closer, Keanu continued, "But sometimes I need help." And even though Keanu would never admit out loud, he craved some semblance of a motherly figure for his children. Someone who could be around more often than his sisters and mother, someone who could care for them the way they deserved when he couldn't do it.

"But what about grandma? She helps," still reluctant, Matt didn't dare to look at Emma, probably hoping she'd just disappear if he willed it.

"You know I like it when grandma helps, but sometimes it's just not possible for her to be with us," Keanu worried on his lower lip, searching for an argument that would convince his son, hesitantly looking to Emma so she'd give it a go.

Taking a deep breath, hoping it would miraculously chase her nerves away, Emma stepped forward, the heels of her thigh highs filling the silence, "Hey Matt," she sank down in front of him, "I'm Emma," and when nothing but dead silence only interrupted by shuffling feet followed, Emma continued with yet another nervous breath, "You know, I used to like it when my grandma babysat too. She'd make me all kinds of fun snacks. Does your grandma make you snacks too?" Tugging at the hem of his t shirt, Matt surprisingly nodded yes, still avoiding her gaze, "Really? That's awesome, what's your favorite?"

His voice was soft, his head remained down cast as he picked at the hem of his pale blue t-shirt, and he definitely had no intention of speaking more than he had to, "Chocolate chip cookies."

"No way!" Emma smiled brightly, hoping it would encourage Matt to do the same, "I love chocolate chip cookies, and it just so happens that I have a recipe for 'em, they turn out great every time."

"Really?" A glimmer of a smile twisted his lips, and out of the corner of her eye, Emma could see Keanu's hopeful look too.

"You know bud," he intervened, "If we let Emma stay, and you ask nicely, I'm sure she'd bake you some one day."

"Would you?" His dark eyes widened in disbelief and his expression wasn't one anyone could readily deny.

"I would love too," Emma giggled, glad that she'd won over one of the kids. Next, was Poppy, though, when she stood, trying to get a look at the girl's face so she could say hi, the child immediately buried her head in Keanu's neck. "Hey Poppy," Emma went on anyway, "I know that it's a little scary having someone new around but I promise that I just wanna be friends."

When, after a minute, Poppy didn't respond, Keanu offered Emma a faint smile, mouthing, "She's a little shy." They exchanged tight smiles once again, before Keanu craned his head to look at his daughter, "Pop, don't you want to say hi to Emma? She's really nice, and I'm positive you'll like her," when she shook her brunette head in an unspoken no, he coaxed, "Come on sweetheart, Matty likes her," and with the slightest redness in his face, he admitted, "And I do too."

Maybe it was the way he looked at her, or maybe it was the little school girl crush she'd developed through seeing him on television sometimes, but when Keanu said it, heat rushed to Emma's cheeks, all the way up to the tips of her ears and she could feel butterflies fluttering in the pit of her stomach. When Emma lifted her gaze again their eyes locked unexpectedly when for a second and just before Keanu turned his head away, she couldn't quite decipher his expression. Though, even after the moment had passed, the awkwardness in the air lingered, and Emma felt compelled to fill the silence, "It's okay," her forced smile faltered, "Poppy and I have a lot of time to get to know each other, "Right?" Searching for confirmation as she held her breath, she once again looked to Keanu.

"Yeah," he agreed, looking immensely relieved, "Yeah, lots of time."

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x ofc #ff #keanu reeves fanfic #fanfic #nanny au #john wick #keanu reeves au

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redthreadoffate · 3 years

Text

chapter 1 — when lives begin to collide [2.1k]

description — you and peter begin vying for the attention of a children’s books publisher.

genre — from past lives lovers to present lives rivals. fluff. angst. slow-burn.

warnings — some mistakes here and there. slight cussing. totally au.

a/n — i can’t find the op anymore but they made a post about this kind of plot. i really thought it’d be interesting to write one so here’s my take. not forcing you to read it but if you do, feedback would be greatly appreciated! thank you!

masterlist

“I can never erase my past. But the present is my pen and I can write a better future. After all, I am the author of my life.”

It was written in capital letters.

‘Damn,’ you thought. ‘That hit hard.’ You read it over and over, trying to take every single word in. It was true and it really did hit you hard. You were not proud of your past, but you were trying to make amends now, and you hoped that it would lead to something better. And that is exactly why the quote felt like a sharp pang in your heart.

You were sitting down on the last step of the education building on campus. The notebook with the quote you have written lay on your lap like an open book. You had just finished your lunch and were waiting for your friend to arrive. Y/fn woke up too late for the morning sessions but you agreed to meet them when they said they were on their way.

You were chewing on your bottom lip, careful not to bite it too hard. That was a habit of yours. Whenever you were anxious, you would chew on your bottom lip, sometimes without even realizing it. But you were not anxious because your friend was going to be beside you any minute. No. It was because it would be the first time you would show your professor the children’s story you wrote. What made you even more nervous was that they were the next class you had.

Writing short stories was a passion of yours. You loved making up characters and scenarios in your head and would write them down on any scrap of paper you could find. But that was all you could do. You knew children’s books always had illustrations, unfortunately, you could not draw to save your life. You were thinking that perhaps when your story would be chosen for some award or anything, they would find you an illustrator. That was how it usually worked, right?

“Hey.” You snapped out of your thoughts, froze your teeth, and looked up. “You okay?”

“Hey,” you greeted back. You shook your head, closed the notebook, and placed it inside your bag. “I was just thinking,” you admitted. “About showing Professor Y/pn my work. You think they’ll like it?”

Y/fn sighed. “Of course, Y/n. We’ve gone over this before, haven’t we?”

You frowned. You didn’t like the way they said it. You shrugged and pretended not to care. “Right. Okay. Let’s just get to class.”

You both walked up the steps and waited for an elevator to bring you up to your floor. Once you arrived inside the classroom, you noticed that some of your classmates were not in yet but your professor was fiddling around with their laptop. You placed your book down on the table, took out your binder filled with your writings -- and you could proudly say that you filed them by title in alphabetical order -- and took a deep breath before walking up to the front of the class.

You cleared your throat and called them, “Professor Y/pn?” That came out more like a squeak rather than the tone of voice you would give when you wanted to start a casual conversation.

Your professor turned to their side and smiled at you. “Yes, Ms. Y/ln? What can I do for you?”

“Well...uh, I was wondering if you could take a look at one of my written works. I need a professional’s opinion so that I know where I can improve on and all that. I mean, if it’s not too much trouble for you.”

“Of course, of course!” they said with a grin. “No problem at all, Ms. Y/ln. I’m honestly surprised that you came to me for a new point of view.”

“No one better than my favorite professor,” you said, copying their grin. “And I’m not just saying.” You giggled.

Your professor laughed. “Well, alright then. Which one should I check out?” They beckoned you to give them your binder and you obliged. “Oh, this is a little heavy,” they chuckled as they held your binder. “You must be quite a writer. Well, you always have been one of my top students in my class.”

“Just here,” you mumbled. “Not so much the others.” You took a deep breath and exhaled. “I was hoping you could look at The Bee and the Queen. Though maybe just that for now, I don’t really have much confidence with the others yet.”

Your professor waved their hand. “Right, of course. I promise not to pry. Do you mind if you leave this with me for now? I’ll give it back after class.”

You saw this as some sort of sign of commitment. Maybe, if they liked your story, they would be willing to work with you. “Yes!” you nearly shouted. “I mean, yes, professor. I’d really love that.”

They smiled. “Alright, I’ll check out The Bee and the Queen and I’ll jot down some notes.”

“Ehrm….”

“On another piece of paper, of course,” they laughed. “Don’t worry, even without the look on your face, I wasn’t going to write it on something so precious.”

You sighed in relief. “Thank you, Professor Y/pn. Thank you so much.”

They nodded. “Off you go, class is about to begin.”

The whole two hours class seemed even longer than usual. Your knee bounced constantly and you kept looking at your watch every minute. There was a seatwork, an essay about children and why they were more inclined to language at a certain age, and at some point, you looked up and saw your professor with their reading glasses on and had your binder open. Finally, the class was dismissed and you waited a bit, hoping for them to call you.

“I’ll go ahead,” Y/fn informed you.

“Sure,” you replied without looking at them.

As your classmates left, your professor smiled and gestured for you to come to them. You pursed your lips and briskly walked to them. “Well?” you asked. “Sorry, that came out a bit rude.”

They shook their head. “Well, Ms. Y/ln. I do like the concept and your style, but we need more creativity. I’m not saying that this isn’t creative, no, not all. But remember these are children we’re talking about. They need something that will catch their attention. They need to stay focused. I’m happy that you managed to apply the moral of the story in examples at the end. But again, put some more sugar in it. You get what I mean?”

“I think so.” You nodded.

They smiled. “I’ll give you a week to come up with something new. And if I’m impressed, you can work with an acquaintance of mine.”

Your eyes widened. “Really?”

“Just show me what you got,” they said with a smile.

“Yes, Professor! I’ll think of something way beyond creative, I promise.”

“Let’s start small, Ms. Y/ln.” They chuckled. “We’ll work our way up as we go along.”

You nodded excitedly. “I won’t let you down, Professor. I promise!” You reached for your binder and bowed. “Thank you!”

They chuckled once more. “Go on now, Ms. Y/ln. You’ll be late for your next class.”

You ran to your seat, grabbed your bag, and waved at them. “Thank you!”

Days later, you were in a coffee shop. You were going to meet up with Y/bfn and you two would be brainstorming on how to make your story better. You already had a concept, you just needed to write down how you were going to execute it. Luckily, your best friend knew you all too well.

You had just gotten the tray with both yours and your best friend’s drink -- because really, you two knew each all too well, too. The place was packed and you had a hard time looking for a vacant table. When you did spot one, as soon as you reached it, another person had arrived as well.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were eyeing the table, too.”

You looked to your side to see a tall, blonde boy with very nice blue eyes. He, too, was holding a tray with two drinks. “You can have it,” you said. You didn’t know why but you were feeling a little bit bitter. “It’s fine.”

“No, no, please. Take it.” He tilted his head to gesture to the table. “It’s fine. I’ll just stay by the bar. My sister wouldn’t be here for a while, anyway.”

You brightened a little. “Neither is my friend.”

He smiled. “So…?”

You blushed a little. “I...I guess we can share for now?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” He waved his hand to allow you to sit first. As soon as you both placed your trays on the table and sat down, he introduced himself. “I’m Peter.” He held up his hand for you to shake.

“Y/n,” you replied and shook his head.

“Do I know you from somewhere, madam?” he asked.

“Does that line always work for you, sir?” you giggled and rolled your eyes.

He had nice hands. A little calloused but still nice. “I...um...do you live around here?” The shop you were in was inside a subdivision and you haven’t seen anyone as beautiful as him. ‘Oh shut up.’ You were always around thanks to your best friend living around the corner and you pretty much have seen everyone.

He shook his head. “My sister has a friend who lives here. I was in the area and she said we should all hang out for coffee.”

“Oh.” You nodded. “My best friend lives around here. I’m always here. Maybe that’s why I don’t recognize you.”

He nodded. “I’m from the other side of town, actually. Well, my job brings me everywhere so I guess it depends.” He chuckled as did you. “I’m an engineer.”

“Education grad student,” you said. “I work part-time as a PA for my parents. I mean, I was willing to do it for free since they are my parents but they sort of bribed me and said they’d be paying my tuition instead, so….” You didn’t know why this was embarrassing for you to admit.

“Mind if I ask what kind of business your parents run?”

“It’s a multinational company.” ‘Stop being embarrassed, it’s the truth for goodness sake.’ “Y/cn.”

“Oh! Yeah! I know that.”

You forced a smile. “Yup.” You two became silent and you began chewing on your bottom lip but you immediately stopped. It was getting a bit awkward so you decided to get your drink and tried to open it. Unfortunately, it was sealed too tight. Peter could definitely see you struggling, he offered for him to try and held out his hand.

When you gave it to him, you came into contact with his skin.

“It worked on you, didn’t it?” he said with a goofy grin.

You laughed at his confidence. “Not really.”

“Ah! But that usually means it did but not so much.”

You scoffed. “It means no.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well you should.”

Once he was able to open it, he gave it back to you. Your pinky touched his index finger.

“Oh stop it!” You stomped your foot and folded your arms.

“That’s not very lady-like,” he said.

“I don’t care.” You stuck up your nose. “You are impossible.”

“I would like to say that I am impossible to others. I’m always possible when it comes to you.”

“For some strange reason that makes sense.”

He chuckled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get your dress dirty. No need to get all stubborn with me.”

You pouted. “I am not being stubborn.”

“Oh yes, you are.”

You sighed in frustration. “You are impossible, Peter Pevensie.”

“Thank you.” You took a sip and subtly watched him drink his. “I didn’t expect them to take this long.”

“Same,” he murmured. He checked his phone and excused himself.

You watched him leave and then you were left alone. You thought of the surge of electricity that you felt whenever you came into contact with one another. Did he feel it, too? Goosebumps crept up to you and you shuddered. “Stop it, Y/n.”

Peter came back and smiled. “They’re almost here.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Then you realized how that may have sounded. “Not that I didn’t enjoy your company, Peter.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it.”

‘And I like your company a little too much, even if it did get a bit awkward.’

The door of the store opened and you saw your best friend enter.

“Oh, there's Y/bfn,” you said. You waved your hand for them to see you. Your best friend found your signal and walked up to you with a smile.

“Ah, and there’s my sister,” Peter announced. Behind your best friend was another girl around your age. She was very pretty. “Oh.”

You looked at him as he said that. There was a slight tone to it but you couldn’t figure out what. You looked back at your best friend. “Oh.”

#the chronicles of narnia #narnia #peter pevensie #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie x you #peter pevensie x y/n #peter pevensie fanfiction #peter pevensie imagine #peter pevensie imagines #type: eve writes

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