#work said you will be SO behind in things not related to Tasks We Pay You To Do....

[argylemikewheeler]

[please someone catch me up what the hell is happening lol]

#work said you will be SO behind in things not related to Tasks We Pay You To Do.... #first the kiss then i keep seeing stonathan related things what's going ON folks #del

[bloodonhissocks]

Charmed: S1 Ep. 20 - "The Power of Two"

I'm genuinely very impressed by how well-written this episode is. This is my first rewatch and it's been years, so I'm going off opinions and perspectives I had a long, long time ago.

One of the focuses of the episode was the awful relationship between Phoebe and Prue attributed to differing attitudes toward working and having a job. It's been brought up over and over again, sometimes more directly and aggressively than other times, that Phoebe doesn't work. There's an implication that she doesn't contribute financially, at least consistently, and that she isn't financially conscious either. I do agree with this attitude toward her; she's always wearing Prue's clothes (even says things like "hogging all the good clothes" when there were 3 Prue's) and making large purchases (when she takes self-defense classes and puts them on her credit card with the implication that she doesn't have to money to pay for it yet).

This aspect of Phoebe's character has always annoyed me. I definitely share a lot of Prue's attitude and reactions when Phoebe shows "irresponsibility." In this episode, Piper and Prue rapidly (and vocally) give her a to-do list before they leave the house in a hurry to do their jobs. The list was:

Prue

pick up dry cleaning

grocery shopping

shoe repair

mail letter

make ---------- payment (I couldn't make out the word bc it was blurry)

"we need lightbulbs"

Piper

talk to the gardener about the weeds

shopping

pay bills

call cable guy

cancel hair appointment

Honestly, if I were given this list, some of it would piss me off, like "pick up dry cleaning," "shoe repair," and "cancel hair appointment" (for someone else). Everything else sounds more reasonable to me bc it relates to the house and their living situation. However, Phoebe said something specific at 25:40, "Which is that I get absolutely no credit for all that I do around here. It's just assumed that I'll do it. Like, that crack that you made to Piper yesterday morning. 'Don't worry Piper, Phoebe'll do it. She's got time.'"

I rewound the episode to see exactly how it played out, what exactly they all said, and how they said it. It turns out that Piper said, "I am so behind. I didn't go shopping or pay the bills or call the cable guy or cancel my hair appointment." Phoebe responds, "Don't worry about it, sweetie. I'll do it." THIS is significant bc Phoebe replied to Piper without anyone asking her to pick up those tasks. However, Phoebe says it with a very specific tone. It was very automatic as if it wasn't the first time she's offered to do it, like it was frequent enough that it became a routine reaction (implication again of being consistently "useful" in other ways than financial!). PIPER stops in her tracks for a second and says with a frown on her face, "Are you sure?" to which Prue immediately follows up with, as Phoebe very accurately recalls later in the episode during their fight, "Yeah, I mean, you've got time, right?" and Phoebe has an extremely irritated look on her face. Prue doesn't even give her time to respond before moving on about Piper catching her flight. It's so key that Phoebe has more of a blank expression and tone when volunteering to pick up Piper's to-do list and she only reacts after Prue makes her comment.

At the start of the episode, I didn't think any of what I just said above ^^. I was completely understanding of Prue and Piper and how important it was for them to retain their jobs. The episode is set up very well with Prue's office scene following Phoebe's scene where she witnesses ghost crimes on Alcatraz. Prue is put under enormous pressure to keep her job, pressure that's been building for the whole season as she spends more time fighting the supernatural as a witch. This made me understand even more how significant it was for her to keep her job bc her and Piper's mentions about their jobs in jeopardy at the beginning of the episode relate to the upkeep of the house. I agreed that money was needed to keep the heat/water/electricity on, feed themselves (and their cat), and other basic living needs. Phoebe's call that interrupts Prue's lecture from Claire directly highlights their difference in values, goals, motivations, and aspirations. Prue highly values her job, which is why she's stressed from having to manage both parts of her life. Phoebe highly values her duty to protect the innocent and save lives as a witch, which is why she was practicing calling her premonition powers on command and was so passionate about researching the ghost of Alcatraz.

This divide between them is even further exacerbated when Prue gets home and sees the dishes in the sink and no groceries in the fridge while Phoebe is sitting in front of her laptop researching Alcatraz. Phoebe pissed me off here again bc I, too, would be frustrated as hell if I asked my housemate/sibling to go grocery shopping and I came home after work to an empty fridge without any ingredients to even cook. Phoebe mentions that there isn't enough money in the house account, pushing me even more to "Prue's side" about having a job bc I couldn't see how Phoebe could be concerned about something else when there was barely any food. I can't say for sure that they're in poverty or something, but my personal assumption is if you don't have enough for groceries, how are you feeding yourself?

Phoebe was also consistently lying about where she was, which ended up being the surface-level reason for her fight with Prue. Their fight was very captivating bc every time Phoebe said anything I could feel Prue's (and my) frustration and annoyance rising. Phoebe doesn't tell Prue the truth about where she was bc she knows Prue will blow up and she wants to save herself the drama, at which point I thought, "Girl, if you just admitted it, maybe it would help you both fight the ghost a bit better instead of pretending your friend saw everything. You are creating the drama, not Prue." Then, Phoebe says, "You're really mad at me bc, as far as you're concerned, I was slacking off yesterday, which is pretty much what I do every day, right?" I thought, "Yes!!! You literally crumpled the to-do list bc you decided it was ridiculous and then lied about where you were!!! The bills are not paid, there's no food in the fridge, and you avoided taking responsibility for what you DIDN'T do by bringing up 'We're not gonna prove Piper right by getting into a fight already, are we?' How are you not sorry for not doing all the things you said you were gonna do?"

But then Phoebe goes off on Prue, explaining how the root of all of this is Prue's animosity toward her for not having a real job. I even understood Prue's (implied) animosity. I, too, would be stressed about having to make sure I have a job to make money to "take care of my family," especially if one of my family members who lived with me didn't have a job. I would feel responsible for them and that is one of Prue's core characteristics. Phoebe's mention of Prue's underhanded comment about Phoebe having free time was the turning point where I started to understand more of Phoebe's POV. It's implied that Phoebe does all the housework such as grocery shopping, vacuuming the house, and waiting all day for the cable guy to show up. She even mutters, "I'm not even married and I'm already a housewife," after Prue and Piper leave the house. I admit that I rolled my eyes when she said that and thought, "Prue and Piper are literally carrying you financially and you can't help them out?" That was one of my many many mistakes and I realized that I was shitting on Phoebe for "not being grateful," yikes. I even downplayed and diminished the sheer amount of work that a housewife does just bc she's "not earning money."

My solidarity with Prue character isolated me from Phoebe and everything she did, everything she was passionate about, seemed childish and immature to me, and the fact that I felt that way personally speaks a lot about how realistic these characters and their relationships are (in my opinion). Phoebe's power fits so well with her emotional personality and her intrinsic desire to help in her own way. She may not pay the bills, but she cares about people outside of her immediate family and can't understand why people, for example, Prue, might prioritize their jobs and careers more than helping others. I think it's just a misunderstanding in which Prue and Phoebe live in their different worlds as a result of their different personalities, so it can be difficult to understand where the other person is coming from and how they feel.

Anyways, I already wrote so much lmao, I'll stop here. I'm ashamed of how I viewed Phoebe for so long. I made this post about 2 months ago when I first started rewatching Charmed and I believe that if I watched the first 3 episodes again after writing this post, I would most likely have a more informed opinion about some of the points I made. I feel very judgemental and I am reminded that there's always another perspective. I'm really glad that I kept going and pushed past my initial discomfort. This is a wonderful show and, again, I LOVE the writing and consistency in characterization in this episode.

I wrote this on Reddit originally, but I wanted to share it here too because I originated from Tumblr lol. It feels like coming home.

#charmed #season 1 #s1 ep 20 #the power of two #prue halliwell #phoebe halliwell #piper halliwell #amazing characterization and writing #mkwg4271

[charles-edwin]

Hi, MJ, just saw your notes about being neurodivergent and mental health and trying, and i just wanted to add to that. I’m not autistic but I’ve been dealing with depression and anxiety since i was a teen and only just recently found out, in my early 40s, that what i thought my whole adult life was just me being LAZY and UNMOTIVATED and GENERALLY BAD AT ADULTING is probably me having executive dysfunction. I mean, i’m still a procrastinator at heart, but when i can’t bring myself to do THE THING even though i know i HAVE TO DO THE THING and every moment i spend NOT DOING THE THING fills me with anxiety? That’s my brain fucking me over.

I’m a public servant and my department has been very big on mental health since COVID and mandatory telework. But the message is always the same : you gotta eat well, sleep well and exercise. Like it’s that easy, like self-care doesn’t take a huge amount of effort when your brain doesn’t want to cooperate. Doing anything is hard for me because i have zero motivation and i can’t relate at all to things like Being Disciplined and Feeling Accomplished. Even things i enjoy! I’m behind on series i want to watch because i just can’t bring myself to press play and sit there and watch. So i rewatch the same series over and over again.

So my self-care is doing my best and trying not to compare myself to others. I get my work done on time (even if sometimes i have to get up earlier because i wasn’t productive the day before), i shower at least twice a week, i eat a vegetable a day. I pay my bills and my taxes. I vote. I’m not a danger to myself and/or to others. I’m alive. I’m alive. So if it takes me a week to unload the dishwasher and to load it up again with the week’s worth of dirty dishes, if i never fold my laundry, if i buy soup instead of cooking for myself, who the fuck cares?

Neurotypicals don’t get it, they don’t understand why we can’t just DO THE THING (like my dad, who loves me very much, but does not understand why i can’t just ‘cheer myself up’ when i ‘feel sad’). They don’t understand that in order to implement the tools (clean eating! sleep! exercise!) that might help us cope we need to have the motivation and the energy and the resources (therapy is fucking expensive!) to even try to make the effort. ‘It’s not that hard’ YES IT FUCKING IS.

So i just wanted to say, i see you, i understand your struggles, they are valid and so are you. I hope the people around you appreciate you and your efforts. I hope YOU appreciate you. Because you rock. Sending you lots of love. 💖

hello friend!!! i feel you. i suffer of severe executive dysfunction and honestly it just keeps getting worse which consequently makes me even more anxious 😩😩

exactly!!! eating well, sleeping well and exercising can definitely help you improve but when your brain simply refuses to do those tasks, it’s hell. and honestly, people who don’t live in a constant fight against their own brains have NO idea how it is. only the ones who know the struggle know what it takes to do the most basic things.

beloved :( i understand your struggles. i know i’m just a stranger running a silly little blog on tumblr dot com but i really do understand. i can motivate myself with fiction sometimes but real life? it’s just not for me and some days i feel so lost and yet so overwhelmed by how lost i feel, that it sends me into deep depressive episodes. i mean, i’m not clinically diagnosed with depression and anxiety but fuck if i haven’t struggled with those bitches my entire life.

(i have been thinking of getting a diagnosis and i thought about asking my dad for some financial help and you know what my mom said to me, “don’t even bother, he thinks you’re faking it”. i mean, not surprised at all but still a little disappointed.)

and you’re doing great!!! read this very carefully: YOU ARE DOING FUCKING AWESOME!!! you’re taking care of yourself and doing things at your own pace and you’re alive and not harming others. that’s just so so so much!!! and i’m proud of you for moving forward despite all the hardships!!!!

oh parents. they might love us but they rarely understand us. and that’s okay i guess. but don’t let that get to you. only YOU know what your brain can and can’t do. it is also NOT your fault that you have limitations, okay?? everyone does!!! we just happen to have more. but you’re not unlovable or a terrible person!!

you’re soooo right!! therapy and diagnoses are ridiculously expensive. at the end of the day, we’re usually alone carrying this massive invisible weight. and nobody can see how hard we try and how much it takes from us!!! sometimes being alive hurts and staying alive is the best we can do but we are still here!! despite everything that nobody gives us credit for. we are still here!!! i still need to work on my self love and acceptance but i don’t take it lightly how much i try to do things and i do appreciate the fact that i’m alive.

thank you SO much for reading my tags, for reaching out and sharing your experiences with me. you are incredible and i wholeheartedly mean this!

i tend to feel very lonely because most people around me don’t really understand me. it’s such an alienating feeling, sometimes it’s like i’m drowning in it. but i also know i’m not the only one who feels like this and your message does comfort me in that way.

so thank you SOOOOO much!!!! sending you lots and lots and lots of love right back!!!! and that you’re able to feel it across the distance between us and have a great week!!!!! ❤️💙

#also thank you for caring 🥺 #means so much to me #i’ll probably reread this for comfort every week #you’re so nice #bless you ❤️💙 #anonymous #mj got mail!

[winterfable]

Dreams and the unconscious, transference and countertransference, analyst and analysand

[...]

Sometimes the new analysand will bring a dream to the initial interview; sometimes the first dream does not appear until after the first session, or after several sessions. It is not at all unusual for the initial dream to be a significant one, putting into focus either the condition of the patient or else his feelings about the analysis or the analyst.

Gina, a young woman of Roman Catholic religion, came into analysis in a desperate situation. She was about five months pregnant by the first man with whom she had had sexual relations. He had no intention of marrying her. She was the sort of woman who seemed ideally suited for the role of wife and mother, but circumstances were against it, and she blamed her own impetuousness for not having avoided the pregnancy. Yet she said with conviction that she was unwilling to compound her guilt by adding murder to her crime of carelessness. She would have the child, and she would have to find an attitude toward it that would be consistent with what she understood as the meaning of her life. This did not permit the negation of a life for which she was responsible, her firstborn. Gina brought the following dream to the first analytic session: I was thinking about coming to you. I had a guide. She said you do all sorts of weird things. She said you told one lady to throw her car into the water. She said you told another lady to jump into the cold icy water of the lake and swim across.

This dream contained Gina's fears of the analytic process. The whole thing was mysterious to her. She expected to have demands made which would be extremely difficult for her to meet. In the course of our discussion of the dream I asked her what a car meant to her. Her car was her most valuable possession; she had worked very hard to pay for it. It was a source of great pleasure. When I questioned further, the car turned out to be the place where she and her friend had had sexual intercourse. So, evidently, the car represented the treasure (her sexuality) that she felt she had misused, and therefore it would have to be sacrificed. All her guilt was bound up in this painful realization. Her guilt also resulted in her having withdrawn her tender feelings into herself as she had become somewhat hardened to the world. This was understandable in the face of what she expected to find in the attitudes of friends and relatives.

The second lady in the dream represented to her the absence of sensitivity to emotion that she was experiencing. “It is as though all my feelings have gotten turned off and I feel nothing for anyone, I just don't care. And still I miss my feelings, painful as they are, and wish I could get them back.” Jumping into the icy water would be a great enough shock, she said, to make her feel again. The analyst would demand that from her, and the analysis would be like icy water. The dream shows her attitude: the sacrifice will have to be made, the risk will have to be taken, and the hope is that she will be made whole with her feelings once more.

The beginnings of transference are also present in this initial dream. Gina brings into her analysis an unconscious relationship to the analyst, upon whom she had placed the image of a stern task-mistress. Since she had not yet met me, these expectations had to come from within herself; they were reflections of her own unresolved conflicts, unconscious emotions and problems with relationships. These were activated at the prospect of entering a new and intense relationship. Transference means that something from elsewhere is transferred or redirected into the analytic relationship. Thus we have attitudes and behaviors coming up in analysis which carry with them more emotional charge than would seem to belong to the situation being explored. Behind the facade of the analytic dialogue, however, stands the life history of the patient, with all its personalities and conflicts and the feelings associated with them. The experiences of the individual and, more than these, the bases upon which the life experience takes place, namely the archetypal foundations of the personality, all infuse the analytic confrontation. Much of this process happens unconsciously, but it gives rise to feelings and emotions that then become conscious.

I want to return to the first session with Gina not only because it contained an important initial dream, which illustrates how transference can be present even before the analysis begins, but because another very important aspect of analysis entered into this case in an especially dramatic way. This concerned the attitude of the analyst toward the patient, an attitude which, like that of transference, has a strong unconscious aspect. Countertransference is the term used to describe the unconscious analyst-analysand relationship as experienced subjectively from the side of the analyst.

Here are some of the countertransferential factors in the case of Gina. I had a very powerful emotional reaction to her the first moment I saw her. Gina’s youth and her long straight brown hair, her dark eyes with the mod glasses, reminded me with excruciating sharpness of my only daughter who had died just a few months before. My daughter had been newly married, and had no child, and so my hopes ever to have a grandchild had been demolished. Now Gina’s coming, wondering whether to keep her child, hit me very strongly; I felt rising in me a determination that she should not under any circumstances give up her child for adoption. Because I am close enough to my own unconscious, I could feel the “mother-tiger’ rising within me. So all the while as I was listening to and speaking with Gina, I was dealing with the uproar in my own unconscious.

I had to recall what I had learned in my own analysis when I had been training, shortly after I had begun to work with my first cases under supervision. I was, like all neophytes, exceedingly eager to achieve a successful outcome, and I tended to become quite active in leading, rather than gently guiding the process. My training analyst had gently tried to restrain me, but when that failed she shocked me one day by saying, “You are not supposed to want the patient to get well!”

At first I could not quite believe this, for I surely did not understand her meaning. But gradually as it sank in I was able to see that if I acted out of my desire to heal the patient, I was setting myself up as the miracle worker. I would be doing it for my own satisfaction, for the joy of success, and possibly for the approval of my training analyst. My own needs would be in the foreground then, and the patient’s needs would revert to the secondary position. Besides, the possibility for healing lies in the psyche of the patient, the place where the disunion or split exists. The psyche, as Jung has taught, is a self-regulating system, containing within it all the elements which are necessary both to produce a neurosis and to transform the neurosis into a constructively functioning attitude. If I, as analyst, impose my concepts of the direction into which the analysis should go and what the outcome should be, I am doing violence to the potential unity of the patient’s psyche. My task is to use myself as a vehicle for clarifying the patient's dilemmas and for helping her learn to interpret her unconscious production. My task is not to contaminate the analysis with my own problems. And it is for this reason that I constantly need to be aware of my own needs and my own biases.

The twin problems of transference and countertransference in the psychology of Jung are given a position of great importance in the analytic process. In this, analytical psychologists are in full agreement with analysts of other schools. Jung has stated in “The Psychology of the Transference,” “that almost all cases requiring lengthy treatment gravitate round the phenomenon of transference, and that the success or failure of the treatment appears to be bound up with it in a very fundamental way.””

The nature of the transference in Jungian analysis develops along with the style of the analysis, and especially as fostered by the individuality of the analyst. Jung long ago “took analysis off the couch,” with all the meaning that implies, symbolical as well as otherwise. “The couch, with the analyst sitting behind the patient, clearly aims at establishing as far as possible (I don't believe it is very far, in fact) an ‘impersonal,’ ‘objective’ analyst figure. That it also forms one of the defense mechanisms used by analysts for self-protection is evident,” we are told by a Jungian critic of the couch technique.’ In the Jungian analysis, the analyst and analysand sit face to face on the same level. This gives greater flexibility to the analytical situation and to the active interchange that goes on between the two participants. I, as analyst, am exposed and I expose myself deliberately to the observing and scrutinizing view of the analysand. This puts us immediately on the same plane, and we are therefore part and parcel of a mutual relationship.

Jung has warned the analyst with respect to countertransference:

“Even the most experienced psychotherapist will discover again and again that he is caught up in a bond, a combination resting on mutual unconsciousness. And though he may believe himself to be in possession of all the necessary knowledge concerning the constellated archetypes, he will in the end come to realize that there are very many things indeed of which his academic knowledge never dreamed. Each new case that requires thorough treatment is pioneer work, and every trace of routine then proves to be a blind alley. Consequently the higher psychotherapy is a most exacting business and sometimes it sets tasks which challenge not only our understanding or our sympathy, but the whole man. The doctor is inclined to demand this total effort from his patient, yet he must realize that this same demand only works if he is aware that it also applies to himself.”

The analysis of the transference is the crux of the analystanalysand relationship, for the unconscious patterns come into play here where we can see them directly and do not have to rely on the patient’s recital of things past. Transference material is presented spontaneously by dreams, and so in looking at the dreams we can see the outcroppings of unconscious processes, disengaged from any conscious purposes of the analysand. In this way the analysis of the dream has a certain advantage over the analysis of the defenses and resistances; for the latter may be all mixed in with the will and other conscious notions.

In my own experience I have found that the transference material is not necessarily disguised to the degree that it becomes necessary to interpose concepts like that of a “dream censor’ who twists the message of the dream into something quite different, even opposite from what appears. Some transference dreams can be taken quite literally, for their meaning is evoked by images and symbols with beautiful clarity.

For example, a male schoolteacher in his late thirties who is bound to his mother by hate and fear, and who occasionally takes a hallucinogenic drug, brought the following dream: J am visiting the zoo and am in a giant outdoor bird cage there looking at plants and birds. I wander down a steep path and find Dr. S. cooking what smells to be chocolate fudge. There, in an earthen room below the birds, are twelve huge vats of gurgling, bubbling chocolate candy. She tells me that it is a kind of a grain candy, completely non-sugared and very non-habit-forming. She then offers me some and I taste it, remarking that it tastes like regular fudge to me. She says, “See, what did I tell you about drugs?” I leave to walk out of the bird cage, and my mother is there, fat and ugly. She starts wrestling me, saying, “You're going to stay in the cage, you're going to stay in the cage,” in a singsong kind of way. I grab her and begin shaking her. As I shake her I keep saying to myself the same thing I once thought when I really shook a student in my class, hard, “Migod, you're shaking the shit out of this kid!”

Bill, the dreamer, feels encapsulated. His life is like a big cage, so large that he can go about with apparent freedom, but go too far and he suddenly finds out where the bars are. He feels comfortable enough among pubescent children, partly because in his emotional life he is still stuck somewhere in that place. He has never been able to enjoy a sexual relationship with a woman, and the few sexual encounters he has had with males have had a puerile quality. It appeared to me that his sexual development was retarded, and I was not sure whether his mild interest in sex with men came from a natural homosexuality or from an inability to make the necessary break with the overpowering mother to approach a romantic encounter with a woman of his own age without being terrified. My impression was that his sexuality was still undifferentiated.

As a young child he had been surrounded by prohibitions against enjoying any sensual pleasures. He was informed in no uncertain terms that his body and everything that came out of it was filthy and untouchable. He recalls his mother standing over him and shaming him when he was two or three, but can’t remember why. He must have repressed suddenly all the good feelings associated with the “making” of warm, soft, pungent feces. Bill recalled that he was kept at home a great deal of the time with minor ailments while the other children were out playing. He had no early experience of body contact or sex play with other children. It seemed to him that wherever he went, his mother was watching him, that he was never out of her sight. He grew extremely shy and, not surprisingly, failed to form any close attachments outside of the family. Much of his time was spent in solitary activity: practicing the cello, reading, and compulsive masturbation surrounded by guilt feelings and fear of divine retribution. All through his growing years Bill was dogged by a sense of failure in personal relationships. As a young adult he related to others mostly on a superficial “talky” level, without any sense of concern about the other, and without ever feeling that he himself was held in high regard.

In his analytic “confession” he described his masturbatory fantasies; they were oriented toward boys and men and full of unending streams of urine and inundations of feces; there were all sorts of scenes of sexual abuse being heaped on him, or performed by him on other people. I listened to it all without much comment, primarily interested in understanding what it meant to him. Since there was no judgment from my side, he had felt freer in going ahead to explore his actual relationships of various kinds. These were brief impersonal homosexual encounters.

My appearance in his dreams showed that he experienced me as being involved with him and committed to the process in which we were both engaged (were we not in the same huge bird cage?). My acceptance and participation in his reliving of his repressed experiences allowed him to convert the disgust he had learned back into its original context of something natural—to him that was sweet and delicious, like “regular fudge.” But the old suspicion was not gone from him; he felt that my acceptance of him could not be altogether real, it must carry a moral judgment, perhaps referring to my having questioned the wisdom of his sometime use of LSD or mescaline. He associated me in his mind with the image of the childing mother. In other words, he had projected that image onto me. So even while consciously and rationally he saw me as myself, on an unconscious level he saw his mother—and he transferred his feelings of fear and distrust of his mother to me. Therefore, in the dream he tried to escape (and in reality this preceded his attempt to flee from analysis because of the tensions it produced), and then we were able to see what it was that he was resisting. I was really his mother after all, it appeared, and he saw any attempt on my part to hold him within the discipline of the process as a ruthless effort to control him, which he must avoid by a counterattack. The aggressive behavior which could not be lived out with his mother, except in dreams, had found its way into his daily life, where he had taken on the mother role himself and found himself “shaking the shit out of this kid.” The permissiveness which my activity in the dream symbolizes is something he missed in his childhood and would have liked to attain now, but he was unable to because he could not trust it. It would be a task in the analysis to give him the opportunity to test out freer attitudes and to discover that these attitudes, which appear in his dreams, represent not only elements of unfulfilled wishes or incest fantasies, but a still more important element in them.

The other element of the dream, which we have not yet considered, is that which is suggestive of the potential for future development of the dreamer. In this case the symbol of the cooking provides the clue, for obviously “cooking” here is not the ordinary occupation of whipping up a batch of fudge in the kitchen. The cooking is an extraordinary procedure, taking place on a subterranean level which has to be approached by going down a steep path and entering an earthen room. Here, in the place that symbolizes the depths of the unconscious, twelve huge vats are boiling and gurgling. Cooking means changing or transforming a substance from one form into another to make it edible, that is, assimilable. It is as though the dream were saying, “Look here, there is a tremendous job to be done, but look, this substance has within it all that is needed to produce something valuable and highly desirable!”

Often in the process of analysis the unconscious yields up symbols of transformation, like this one. The appearance of the symbols does not mean that a transformation of the personality is imminent; it only means that it is a possibility. For some individuals, if these symbols appear at a time of psychological readiness, they may be taken as a challenge to advance beyond the stage of concern with neurotic symptoms and their causes, and to begin to consider the deeper meaning of the symptoms, that is, their constructive aspect. A constructive view of a symptom means trying to see what it is that the symptom is symbolically attempting to accomplish—to what psychological need is it responding?

Looking at a symptom in this way corresponds to Jung’s “purposive view’ of neurosis. Jung accepted first of all the important psychoanalytic precept that neurotic and psychotic symptoms rest on a base of conflict between the instinctive nature of people and the demands imposed upon them by the society in which they live. He then moved on another step. He was not content only to analyze every neurotic and psychotic symptom from the point of view of determining where it came from, why it got started, and how it worked, as he perceived that Freud had done. Jung also wanted to know where the symptoms might be leading the patient, that is, what unconscious purpose might be operating. He believed that the way to uncover meaning in events and developments was to observe the direction in which they were pointing, that is, to look for the purposive aspect of the symptom.

Thus Jung was willing to consider and probe the early history of the child, not as an end in itself, and not even to discover clues leading back to traumatic events that, being repressed, acted to sensitize points in the psyche which would form the grounds for later psychic disturbances. His major interest in infantile experience was to discern patterns in it which, established at a very early age, proceeded to give form to future thought and behavior. His concern was not alone to establish the causes of neuroses, but rather to be able to find in them some hint as to the direction in which they were leading the patient. The “cure” of the symptoms was not necessarily the most essential matter. In earlier times, and still among some people today, homosexual behavior is regarded as a symptom of an illness that needs to be cured. It seemed to me that cessation of homosexual behavior for Bill at that time would have been anything but a “cure,” even if it could have been accomplished. I thought of it as possibly an effort on Bill’s part to enter into relationships where he felt relatively safe instead of being isolated from any kind of social life. That he did seek out some relationships seemed to be a positive thing, as it left the way open for whatever sexual orientation might prove to be natural for him when he became less inhibited. In any case, one could say that Bill’s neurosis had a purposive aspect, namely to lead him out of his social alienation; therefore it could be allowed to play itself out until such time as it would no longer be needed.

I made the statement earlier that the reasons a person gives for wanting to enter analysis are rarely the true reasons. They are, without a doubt, the conscious reasons, and the would-be analysand is completely sincere in advancing them. Whether he offers marital problems, or coming to terms with the death of a member of his family, or not being able to succeed in his work, or drinking too much, or sexual impotence, or a generalized feeling of anxiety—it all boils down toa truth which seems deceptively simple but is in fact complicated and all-encompassing. It is that he has looked at himself and does not like the person he has become, and that he believes that somewhere in him is rising the possibility of being another sort of person, the one he was meant to be.

That second entity was united with the first at some point in time, perhaps in early childhood, perhaps in adolescence under the aegis of an admired friend or an inspiring teacher. It may have been recognized as a peaceful way of being, or a way of seeing the world that was wide and full of wonder; or it may have been seen in terms of devotion to some idea, some purpose. In the struggle for material possessions, for personal achievement, for social position or for the favors of an entrancing lover, the second entity was sacrificed—the birthright for the mess of pottage. For some this meant the determined putting away of the dreams of youth, and sometimes in that process the unique promise of the personality simply slipped away unnoticed, leaving a sense of quiet despair. Primitive people have termed this “loss of soul.” Those people of an ancient tribal culture would try by their own means to call back that mysterious entity that gave life its zest and energy but, failing this, they would seek out the witch-doctor or shaman for help. Such a man or woman was one who had been chosen for a life of dedication to the world of non-corporeal reality-—chosen for this not by any group but by some psychic or spiritual manifestation of a particular quality of being that set him or her apart from the other members of the tribe. It could be an illness, a physical impairment, an ability to see visions. The shaman had to be prepared for this vocation by undergoing an arduous period of isolation and personal sacrifice, taking into herself or himself the sufferings of the people and living them through until they could be exorcised or transformed.

Contemporary people experience something very like the feelings of ennui, lowered vitality, being “boxed-in” that sent primitive people in search of the wise one of the tribe to get back their souls. Today, there are many self-proclaimed wise ones, from the Pied Pipers of instant intimacy to the purveyors of instant salvation. Yet how many are willing to involve themselves with one suffering individual for as long as it takes to help that person come together again, and to reunite the splintered fragments?

Besides, the task is not merely to restore what is lost. In becoming lost, the “soul” (I do not know a better word for that central guiding aspect of the unconscious, the nature of which we may have only a dim awareness) has ceased to be the connecting ribbon of a road between the conscious individual and the vast unknown and unknowable. It needs not only to be restored to what it was before, but it needs to serve as a travelers’ highway in which a continuous and busy intercourse between the ego and the unconscious may take place. In this active and reciprocal relationship neither the ego nor the unconscious will remain as it was in the past.

The change that may be brought about in the analytic process, the dialectic between the ego and the unconscious, may come close to its true potential; if so, it will result in a transformation of the personality. This transformation is not achieved through the efforts of an outside agent; the analyst, for instance, does not “make it happen.” Rather, the analyst is there to help in enabling the self-regulating aspect of the psyche to function. The analyst will take the side of the unconscious when the ego of the analysand is in the foreground attempting to control everything. On the other hand, when the analysand is floundering out of control in the grip of overwhelming unconscious material, the analyst may align on the side of the ego, and offer whatever strength may be needed to enable the totality of the personality to survive.

The intervention of the analyst, however, is a subtle matter, for the analyst may not allow the initiative to be taken from the analysand. The analyst is there, with strength, when the situation demands more than the analysand is able to muster. But, for the most part, the process is carried on by the analysand, and by following the leads provided from the unconscious as well as from the data of the daily living experience. Contrary to what many people believe when they enter analysis, the analysand is encouraged to lead the process. Analysis is not something that an analyst “does to” a person. I am reminded of an initial dream which was brought by a patient to his second analytical session: J was lying on a huge butcher's block, naked, with my hands tied to the corners above my head and my feet tied to the opposite corners. Someone was standing over me with a great knife, poised to draw and quarter me. This dream suggests that the would-be analysand conceived of analysis on the medical model, with psychotherapy as a form of treatment—a radical form to say the least!

Another initial dream was more optimistic, yet to the point: I had bought a new car, but I did not know how to drive it. A woman told me to get behind the wheel and she would show me what to do. At first I was frightened, but she said, “We will go slowly at first until you get used to it, and after a while you will get the feel of it.” I followed her instructions until I was convinced that I would soon be in control. After a while she said, “Now it is time for us to look under the hood.”

Gradually throughout the analytic process, analysands learn to recognize the many and varied aspects of themselves that were unconscious before. These vary in their acceptability—those which come from the dark repressed side may be fought intensely, while those which offer promise may be embraced with joy. The excitement of analysis is that one never knows what may be presented—but this fact is sure, the most evil and disgusting images are capable of being redeemed, while the treasures that were hard to attain may easily be lost again to the unconscious. Perhaps this suggests one reason why the analysand at times exerts so much resistance to the analytic process.

Resistance disguises itself behind many masks: they range from minor symptomatic actions such as being late or missing appointments, to raising spurious arguments to rationalize behavior, forgetting to bring dreams or swamping the analyst with dreams, tight-lipped silences or compulsive talking, rejecting the analyst’s interpretations out of hand or accepting everything the analyst says like a “good pupil” who is looking for teacher’s approval.

Psychotherapists of certain schools confront their patients immediately and excoriate them for their resistance to the therapeutic process. I would hesitate before doing so. I often wonder, when I become aware of resistance in patients and find in myself the tendency to call them to account, whether it is possible that secretly I feel rejected by the patients. Could I, unconsciously of course, be asking myself, “How can this person who is so disturbed and who functions so uncertainly feel anything but eagerness to listen to me and learn from my wisdom? He has to be broken of this dastardly habit.” I hope Iam able to avoid this hubris at all costs, and if I sometimes do, it is only that I am acutely aware that I could easily commit this sin were I to forget for a moment that I am fully capable of it!

It seems to me that I, as analyst, must regard my analysand as though I were an anthropologist, and he a native, exploring the unknown regions of his psyche, where the territory is as yet unmapped. As psychotherapist, I may have a wide variety of experience gained from other expeditions, and I may know in general what sort of equipment to take, and for what kinds of dangers I must be on the lookout. But the person with me is the one who knows, and knows in depth, the terrors of his particular wilderness, and where they may be lurking. Therefore, I as psychotherapist, am open to being led by my patient, to allowing my patient ample opportunities to structure the forays. There will be a preliminary period in which each participant in the search must learn the rudiments of the other’s language, in order that we may communicate to each other the ways in which each of us may contribute to the joint endeavor. Sometimes a patient, inexperienced in leading the search, may be reluctant to expose the secret places. I must accept in my own mind the reality that the native has been there a long time, and knows all the paths and the terrain, also all the places to hide. The native may have his own way of doing things, and one day he may not arrive at the appointed time at the anthropologist’s hut, with his burden balanced on his head. What then?

A therapist, with this image before her, will ask herself while she is waiting for the knock at the door, why is he still not here when it is so late? Is there something in his life which is distracting him from our arranged appointment? Or is it possible that J may have done something to put him off? Did I frighten him last time? Did I ask too much from him? Did I in some way insult him? Did I fail to give him credit when he cleared a new path? Did I fail to take his hand when he reached out to me? So then the therapist does not approach the patient next time only with the questions: Why did you make yourself late; or dodge an interpretation; or forget to bring your dreams. She will also ask, What could I have done to bring this about? She will seek out information from the patient at such times as to how he reacted to the last session, what he took away from it, how he understood what occurred, and what happened in the interim between the sessions.

There is a time in the process of analysis when resistance on the part of the patient may be a welcome sign for the analyst. This is a fact that I did not learn from any book, but from one of my analysands. I was discussing the question of resistance with a perceptive young woman, and I was saying that I did not think the analyst needs to be in a hurry to break down the patient’s resistance. To this she heartily agreed, and added: “What the patient often is resisting is a therapist’s attempt to get her to give up her independent responsibility for how she conducts her life, and her independent standpoint.”

--June Singer en "Boundaries of the Soul"

#carl jung #unconscious #june singer #analyst #analysand #transference #countertransference

[bnhabadass]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader Genre: Smut, 18+, Mafia AU Trope: Woke up married Dialogue Prompt: “Aren’t we supposed to be working?”  Warnings: overdosing on cold medicine, mixing cold medicine with alcohol, dub-con, mentions of sex while unconscious, vomiting Word Count: 4,480

This is my contribution to this month’s bnharem collab. I was so happy when I spun the roulette wheel and it landed on my favorite au, the mafia au. I hope you all enjoy and make sure to check out everyone else’s contributions here. Also a big thanks to @doinmybesthere​ for being my beta reader and putting so much work into creating the master list for this collab.

“A fever? Are you fucking kidding me?”

You winced at the voice coming out of your phone. You were curled up in bed, a heavy futon draped over your achey, chilled body. “I’m really sorry,” you croaked into the receiver. “I can’t get out of bed; there’s no way I’ll be able to come into work today.”

“You know how important tonight’s meeting is.”

You could feel the fire in the eyes of your underboss as he spat at you about how important tonight’s festivities were. You couldn’t care less. You hated the guy, but more importantly you hated your father for getting you in this mess.

A debt needed to be paid and your family couldn’t afford to take out a second mortgage on the house. So your father, as smart as he thought he was, went to the nicest restaurant on the far side of town where the boss of one of the most dangerous mobs in the city stationed his office.

A debt for a debt. That’s what he told you as he came home smiling with a big check in his wallet. No one in your family knew where he got the money, but he seemed confident enough that he’d be able to pay it back.

A month went by and one day, three scary men knocked on your apartment door. They said they were there to “collect”.

You were terrified. You thought they were there to rob you, to take the money you had been saving in a rainy-day fund. But no, they came to collect you. Now, it’s been four months and you’re still stuck doing odd jobs for them--grocery and coffee runs as well as spending reports and other money related things you are less than qualified to do.

You hate your job. You hate having to put up with the unorthodox hours and the unsavory jobs and the complaints about your work ethic and the having to do it over again because you didn’t do it right the first time. You want out. If you weren’t positive that if you left they would be able to hunt you down, you would have fled the country by now.

But your father’s debt still hasn’t been paid.

“Look,” you pleaded. “I can come in tomorrow and work double my usual time. Please, Kirishima-san, I just need the day to rest.”

“Not a chance. You’re coming in today and that’s final. If you don’t, well, then maybe we need to take an extra payment from your parents.”

Before you could even process what he just said, he hung up the phone.

Another payment from your parents. You couldn’t possibly let them take any more from your family. With a new threat looming over your head, you mustered up enough strength to push off of your futon and get dressed for the clients’ dinner.

By the time it was 7:00 in the evening, you had taken a large swig of cold medicine and were ready to spend the night serving these criminals.

Outside of the restaurant, two bodyguards were stationed at the front door and one at the back entrance. All three of them were dressed in black from head to toe. You, on the other hand, were tasked with serving your boss’s clients, so your outfit differed from theirs.

You were dressed in attire suited for waiting tables. Black slacks stretch across your legs and your pristine shirt was smoothed against your body. A tight black vest clung to your chest and pressed against your boobs, squishing them together. If it weren’t for the fever, chills, and headache, you would look like you belonged with this crowd of criminals.

You flashed your ID to the guard at the back door and he nodded you in. Your eyes had to adjust to the fluorescent kitchen lighting, but once they did you saw how busy everyone was. It truly was one of the most important nights for your boss, so you understood why you were needed. Still, this night would truly take the most out of you.

“Oi, (L/n),” one of your boss’s associates called for you. “Take these to table four. I’ve been covering your ass for the last twenty minutes.”

“Of course, Kaminari-san.” You bowed your head and skirted over to the table where two well-dressed men spoke with one another in a hushed tone. You placed their meals in front of them and bowed your head.

“Wait,” one of them called as you began to walk away. “I asked for a Jasmine tea. This is Sencha.”

“Yeah,” the other one piped up. “And I asked for a Sencha tea and this is Jasmine.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to yell into the abyss and slap those men across the face. But of course all you did was bow in apology and take the cups back. Kirishima’s words to you over the phone rang loud and clear in your mind.

“Anything they need, you get it for them. These are important people the boss works with and we can’t have idiots like you messing this up for us.”

The men smirked at you and as you turned around to grab their “correct orders,” the man who ordered the Jasmine tea leaned over to leave a hard, painful smack across your ass.

You froze but didn’t say anything and walked away.

It was still early in the night but you had run yourself thin. You needed to sit down or to at least take a sip of water, but there was no room for breaks as you bounced from table to table getting the people what they wanted. You had even left the venue a couple times to retrieve items like the proper creamer one client required in their coffee.

Your throat was so sore and dry and it was aching for a break. Your entire body was aching for a break. But as you saw someone sitting at one of the tables raise her hand to wave you over, you had to put all of your aches aside to tend to her needs.

“Good evening, ma’am.” You bowed your head. “How may I assist you?”

A small smile was on her dark red painted lips. She seemed to be searching for something as she eyed you up and down. “Do you happen to know when Bakugou-san will be joining us?”

Bakugou-san… Were you supposed to know who that is? You had never heard the name before, although you knew your boss had many ties throughout the district. It could be one of them.

“I’m not sure,” you answered honestly. “I could ask my supervisors if they happen to know.”

She waited a moment. She seemed to be searching for something in your expression. “That’s all right. You may go back to work now.”

You bowed and thanked her.

Bakugou-san.

The name did sound familiar, but you’re not sure where you could have heard it. It wasn’t until you were deep in thought, trying to recall where you had heard the name, that you could feel something pushing up against your throat. Oh god. Your stomach was churning.

You ran to the bathroom, pushing someone out of the way to get there. You’d probably hear an earful from Kirishima for pushing a guest, but you needed to find a toilet before--

Oh no.

You barely made it into the stall before emptying the contents of your stomach onto the white tiles of the bathroom floor. Your legs collapsed from under you and you kneeled in your vomit as you coughed up your stomach lining into the porcelain bowl.

Tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breathe while hacking everything you had into the toilet. The black eyeliner you threw on before leaving the house had smudged into raccoon eyes around your lashes.

You rested your cheek against the toilet, ignoring all of the germs that were most likely crawling up your skin and into your pores. The toilet seat felt cool against your burning cheek and watering eyes. You thought you could die happily here, kneeling on the bathroom tiles in a pile of your slowly cooling vomit.

“Aren’t we supposed to be working here?”

Your eyes shot open, and in trying to stand up you slipped. Your ass landed in the smeared vomit. You winced and let out a drawn out, “fuuuck.”

It took you a moment before opening your eyes again and looking up at the man in front of you. And boy did your eyes widen. He was clearly a guest at the clients’ dinner. His blonde hair was slicked back and the bulge of his muscles under his crisp black button down didn’t go unnoticed by you. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his forearms and as he crossed his arms over his chest, his sleeves began to tighten.

“Who the hell are you and why are you puking on the floor?”

It took you a second to find your voice. “I’m, um...” you trailed off. “(L/n), sir.” You cleared your throat. “I am a worker for the person hosting this dinner.” You tried to stand up and bow, but he put a hand up to stop you.

“You work for them.” It was a statement not a question, but you nodded anyway. “Why? What do you owe?”

You’re not sure why he was asking, but his intimidating glare compelled you to answer his every question. “My dad owes them money,” you admitted. “And he wasn’t able to pay them back.”

“Who do you mean by them?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. You didn’t even know what these people did. For all you knew they were drug mules or assassins. You never wanted to know what they did when you were roped in. After all, the less you knew meant you could have more of a normal life. “The boss,” you finally answered. Who the boss was, you weren’t sure. You answered to Kirishima but he didn’t have much power aside from ordering around you and every other person unfortunate enough to be roped into working for them.

The man in front of you scoffed. “Get up.”

You scrambled to your feet, ignoring the wave of nausea that hit you. The man led you out of the bathroom, and as you walked behind him, people who passed the two of you stopped and stared. Oh no, it had to be from the vomit stains on your leg and down your shirt. You probably stank to high hell and your eyes wouldn’t stop watering from your fever.

The man stopped and you had to keep from bumping into him. “There’s an extra work shirt in the closet,” he said. “There should also be some slacks in there. Leave your dirty clothes in a pile and I’ll have someone collect them.”

His voice was demanding and it took you a moment to register what he said. It wasn’t until he snapped in your face that you moved.

“We don’t have all day, princess.”

You flinched and nodded before scurrying into the closet and flicking the light on. Inside the closet was the restaurant’s sad excuse for a boiler room. The low humming from the machinery brought you back into the present as you searched for the change of clothes you were promised.

There was a crisp white shirt folded on one of the shelves as well as a few different slacks in varying sizes. The shirt was a size too small, so you had to leave the first couple buttons popped open. Before leaving the closet, you tried to think about who the man was and why he was helping you. Was it possible that he wanted something in return?

When you emerged from the closet, he looked you up and down. You were too tired, however, to notice his lingering glare on your chest and the way the button down squeezed your breasts closer together.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes. You’re not sure why you were too scared to look into his vermillion eyes, but the way he called you princess earlier as he snapped at you had definitely made you tremble in your core, and you swore that if you looked up to meet his eyes, your fever would only go higher and higher.

“Why the hell’d you come here if you were sick anyway? Are you trying to poison everyone in the damn building?” His words were like little bullets that shot at every one of your doubts of coming in tonight.

You thought back to why you had come in the first place. You were huddled up in your futon that morning when Kirishima called. You begged to stay home, right? But you couldn’t. You squinted hard as you tried to remember why you weren’t allowed to rest. “I was threatened,” you thought out loud. It wasn’t directed towards the man but he nodded in any case.

“(L/n) was it, right?”

You finally managed to look up at him with bleary eyes. “Yeah, um...” You couldn’t seem to remember what his name was. Wait, he hadn’t told you. He had just led you around and given you new clothes, but he never properly introduced himself.

“Bakugou Katsuki,” he said as if he could read your mind. His lips turned up into a smirk. “But call me Katsuki.”

“Katsuki,” you mumbled. “Bakugou Katsuki.” You had heard that name before, but where. “Bakugou,” you mumbled again as if you were trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. “Bakugou-san.”

He quirked an eyebrow up at you.

“Oh!” It hit you like a ton of bricks and as soon as you shot up, you had to recoil because of the ache in the back of your neck. “There’s a woman looking for you, Bakugou-san, er, Katuki,” you bowed.

He just chuckled. “There’s a lot of people looking for me tonight. Who was it?”

That’s a good question. You squinted as if you were looking deep into your memories to remember who it was who asked for him. “She was a woman,” you remembered. “With long dark hair and dark red lips.”

Katsuki nodded. “I see the Yaoyorozus are here.”

The Yaoyorozus. You weren’t sure what that could mean but you didn’t feel like questioning it, so you nodded instead.

Katsuki was looking down at you. His arms were crossed over his chest but a smirk that had been playing across his face all night wouldn’t seem to go away. “Feeling better?”

You didn’t feel better. Although you felt cleaner in the new clothes, there was still a throbbing in your head that wasn’t going away and the overhead lights made your eyes water. But the way that Katsuki looked at you like he was expecting you to say yes just drew you in.

He could tell that the way you nodded a yes in response to his question was a lie, and his face fell before pushing a hand up to your forehead, checking your temperature. “Have you taken anything today?”

You had to think back to earlier that day when you brought the bottle of cold medicine up to your lips, not even reading the recommended dose before downing what you could and leaving your home. “Yeah, um, I took some medicine.”

The grin that had been spread across Katsuki’s face returned. “Well I guess we’ll have to get you some more.”

He grabbed your wrist and led you through the halls and over to the bar. You didn’t pay attention to where you were going. The world seemed to be going too fast for you to keep up. What you were able to notice was that everyone’s eyes were on you as you gently swayed back and forth, trying to settle yourself down. As you were in your own head, you couldn’t start to picture what everyone else saw when they looked at you. You with your raccoon eyes due to streaky makeup that you couldn’t stop rubbing.

“Here.” Katsuki shoved a glass in your face. “Not necessarily traditional medicine but it’ll get the job done.”

You looked up at the whiskey glass in his hand. The ‘medicine’ was a deep brown color which swirled around as he handed it to you. Your fingers brushed against his thick ones as you took the glass. You lifted it up to your nose and took a deep breath in, gagging at the smell. “Um, I don’t think I should.” You had been warned about mixing alcohol with drugs and the dangers that came with it, but no one had ever told you not to mix drinks with cold medicine. Still, that couldn’t be right, right?

“Come on, it’s good for you,” he egged you on. “Besides, it’ll get that nasty taste out of your mouth.”

You had never tried whiskey before. You were used to lighter drinks, something bubbly with a shot of vodka or two in it. But this was almost too much. You lifted the glass up to your lips and tilted it back. Your lips stung as they made contact with the drink, but you didn’t want to seem weak to Katsuki. He’d taken care of you so far and seemed pleasant enough, albeit intimidating.

As you tipped it back further and took more of the drink into your mouth, Katsuki pushed his hand against the bottom of the glass so you couldn’t tear it away, making sure you would drink every last drop. It stung going down and the cubes pressing against your lip were colder than you expected. You gagged as a couple loose tears rolled down your face from the drink’s burning sensation. You bet you looked even more of a mess now.

“Good girl,” Katsuki said with a low demeanor. With his thumb, he wiped away a drop of whiskey that rolled down your chin.

“And this’ll make me feel better?” You didn’t think you were supposed to drink when you were sick, but you were far too tired to even think about what was wrong and what was right. If he said that it’d make you feel better, then that had to be a good thing. You’re sure of it.

“Sure will.” He placed a firm, calloused hand on your head and stroked down your hair. You nuzzled into his warmth.

It was such a nice sensation that it almost made you forget that you were supposed to be working. That there were people waiting on you to bring them their food and fetch their creamer, people who were ready to slap your ass and laugh as soon as you turned away.

“I have a,” you started, not really sure where that sentence was going. “I have to go back to work.”

As you began walking away, Katsuki stopped you, pulling you back over so your face was practically pressed up against his chest. “No you don’t. You’re sick, remember?”

Right, as if you hadn’t forgotten. But he was right. You were sick and your medicine hadn’t kicked in yet. You couldn’t risk spreading your germs and getting anyone else sick.

You watched the dinner guests from afar. You leaned in to hear conversations about hitmen and other rivaling mobs around town. Some were about money laundering and clients that needed to be taken out, whatever that meant.

At one point, someone asked to pull Katsuki aside and talk alone, but instead he just pulled you closer.

“The hell do you want, Yoarashi?”

Yoarashi was a big guy, bigger than Katsuki, but it was clear even to you that he was intimidated by the blonde in front of him.

“You owe me for what I let you borrow last month.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

To you, they sounded like they were underwater and you weren’t sure what they were discussing, but you were curious to learn more.

“Come on, Bakugou. Work with me here.”

“I’m a busy man, Yoarashi. Now get out of my face before I have my men take care of you.”

Something about the raw power and the threatening tone behind Katsuki’s voice made you excited. You wanted to melt into his words, but you weren’t sure why.

“Busy man?” Yoarashi scoffed. “Come on, Bakugou. You’ve barely been seen all night. Where have you been, fucking this little lackey of yours?”

He didn’t mean you, did he? Before you could even comprehend what he just insinuated, Katsuki turned you around and pressed your face up against his chest. You could feel yourself growing even hotter as you were pushed into one of his pectorals. One of his hands cupped the back of your head. Was he protecting you?

“Listen here,” you heard him say. “Don’t contact us ever again unless you want to end up like your first boss did. I can make your life a living hell and I will, got that?”

“Don’t think I don’t have other contacts, all right? You aren’t the only one in this town with resources, Bakugou.”

You felt something jab into the other side of Katsuki’s chest. Did Yoarashi hit him? A few seconds went by before you heard the snapping of fingers and two men came over to drag Yoarashi away.

Katsuki released the hold he had on you, and you watched as the tall man struggled out of his hold. “You aren’t gonna tell anyone what you saw here tonight, right princess?”

You shook your head. You weren’t sure what exactly you felt when you saw that man being dragged away. You were scared, of course; scared for your own life and of the raw power that Katsuki seemed to hold. But on top of fear there was something else. There was a tingle between your thighs that wouldn’t seem to go away, and there was also a sense of excitement. Out of all the people here, this man was paying attention to you. You were far from Mafia material, but he clearly saw something in you and you wanted more of his gaze lingering on you.

Your mind felt hazy with Katsuki and you wanted even more. You didn’t know what to do when you felt him smooth his hand down your back. You didn’t know what to do when his usual smirk turned into something much more dangerous. And you didn’t know what to do when he leaned over and pressed his lips against your own.

His lips felt heavenly as they explored you. They were soft and welcoming despite his cold and dangerous exterior. His tongue probed its way into your mouth. He tasted like whiskey and something else which you assumed was just him. He bit your lip and it felt like he smiled when you let out a moan.

When he released, you felt as if the whole world was spinning with Katsuki. You wobbled around a bit and he chuckled. You tried asking if you could sit down, but the words refused to come out. The last thing you remember is seeing the world go black, the sound of the clients’ dinner fading out of earshot, and two strong arms carrying you away from reality.

You were in pain by the time you woke up. Your body, especially your head, ached tremendously and you wished the sun would stop shining so bright through your window. But wait, the window in your bedroom at your apartment faced another building. The sun never shined too bright in the morning when you were at home.

Slowly, you peaked your head out from under the covers and looked around. You weren’t in your bedroom, but you were in a bedroom. The bed you had been asleep in was enormous, but aside from that there was not much else furniture in the room or even any pictures to signify who the room could belong to.

It wasn’t until you sat up that you realized just how exposed you were under the covers. You couldn’t find your clothing anywhere. What were you even wearing last night? Where were you last night?

You remembered being sick and being called into work by Kirishima. You were stressed. You were nauseous. There was a beautiful woman who asked for someone in particular but you were too sick to remember what their name was, right?

And then you raced to the bathroom and met--

A groan from beside you shook you out of your thoughts, and as soon as you saw the person lying in bed next to you, all of your memories came flooding back.

“Morning, baby girl,” Katsuki said.

You didn’t know what to say. Your mouth hung open and you felt lightheaded.

Katsuki was shirtless under the covers and you were too scared to ask if he had anything on covering his lower half. “You put on quite the show last night.”

Last night. Where you met him. What did you do last night? “I...” You didn’t know what to say, and that made Katsuki let out a booming laugh.

“Come on, you remember at least a little of it don’t you?”

You shook your head. Then you shook your head again. You couldn’t stop shaking your head.

Katsuki put a hand on your shoulder and you stopped. He had a shit eating grin spread across his face that you wanted to both punch and kiss at the same time. “First throwing up at my party and then getting blackout drunk in front of all my guests.”

“What?” You could barely remember anything. What did he mean ‘his party’? The clients’ dinner was run by…

Your eyes widened as you realized just who you had found yourself naked in bed with. Who had found you puking on the bathroom floor. Who that stunningly gorgeous woman was asking for earlier.

You clamped a hand over your mouth and Katsuki let out another chuckle. “You really were the life of the party.” He grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to his side of the bed, and you let him. He dragged his hand up and down your exposed body and roughly cupped your sex. “I had a blast toying around with you last night, but now I want you to be able to remember what it feels like when I bury my cock inside of you, sweetheart.”

You hated the way he was grabbing you and the way he forced your legs to open up for him, but what you hated more than any of that was the way his words made your inner thighs ache and how they instinctively parted just for him.

You turned away as he leaned down to smother your chest with rough kisses, and as you looked over to your left hand, you couldn’t help but notice a diamond ring that wasn’t there the night before.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugo #bakugou x reader #mha bakugou #mob boss bakugou!!! #mafia au #mha mafia au #bnha bakugo #bnharem #bnharem collab #tw: dubcon #tw: alcohol #tw: overdose

[shadowmist0706]

Diluc's Birthday

Seamstress f!reader x Diluc

A/N: This was originally an OC x Diluc but I also made this version for a bit of emersion. Y/N is a seamstress who takes commissions related to the fatui. She only arrived in Mondstadt recently so she and Diluc are still not in a relationship in this oneshot :> Though they are developing some feelings. Hope you guys enjoy! I'm still a beginner when writing but I think I did good😭

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Many businessman or woman wouldn't admit owning a successful business is very rewarding, but it is. They love to see people enjoying their hard work and appreciating their efforts. After all, it's what makes them keep the business.

-Well... that and money

But running a business isn't an easy task. It requires you to accommodate to your customers needs, keep up with trends, manage and keep tabs on everything that's going on in the business.

Being a seamstress, that's as much as you know.

So it's understandable when a certain Winery owner was late than usual. After all, today was a special occasion.

After a few more minutes, she heard something land behind her.

"You're late" Y/N said, slightly turning to see the man of the hour, Diluc Ragnvindr or better known as the "Darknight Hero"

"Apologies, work in the tavern has been quite...lively today" He replied, walking up beside her by the bridge inside Mondstadt. Unlike usual, she noticed how his attire seems different. As she turned to face him completely, she were able to figure what was missing.

His Jacket

He normally wears his black signature jacket. But this time, it's just his white vest paired with a button up shirt that shows his bare arms. It was surprising, not in a bad way.

"I presume it's because of your birthday" Y/N eyed Diluc's appearance. Although it was his birthday, it seemed he was a bit worn out.

Meanwhile, Diluc gave her a look of surprise before regaining his composure "So you know?"

"It's practically the talk of the town" It was hard to ignore especially when the people started talking about it yesterday. The tavern was filled with gossip and rumors at that time.

Most of the talk were light hearted with some people wanting to think of a simple token of gratitude to the uncrowned king of Mondstadt. But other news were better kept unsaid.

Y/N wanted to believe it wasn't true. But as she took a closer look in the shadows, things became clearer. Throughout the day, Diluc has been receiving complements and gifts. Despite his gratefulness, it seemed he wasn't that... happy.

Diluc was not fond of attention except his position forces him to. When it comes to topics about his birthday, he quickly dismisses them. Everything pointed that the information was not false but there was one clue that will prove it.

Even if Y/N knew it wasn't right, her curiousness got the better of her. She walked through the backyard of the favonious church, searching for a certain name. After a few minutes, she found the grave with the same date as today.

Crepus Ragnvindr

xx/xx/xx- 4/30/xxxx

To ------- ----- ---- ------

"Ah, let's pay no mind to that now. Let's focus on our agenda-" Diluc dismissed the topic as usual. Y/N doesn't know how to act with her knew found revelation but she knew it'd be best to keep it a secret.

Focusing on the task at hand, Earlier, she was supposed to take this commission alone. Though a stubborn red head decided to tag along claiming it's his duty. Reluctantly, she accepted his request and decided to meet today at this certain time to settle this.

"Before that, I think you're forgetting something" Y/N stopped him from going off.

"Wha-" Before Diluc could utter a word, a cloak suddenly wrapped around his shoulders and clipped on it's own. He was rendered speechless as she secured and fixed the positioning of the clothing. Their proximity was not that close but near enough to make his cheeks redden

"That's better, wouldn't want the fatui recognizing who the Darknight hero is now, would we?" If it were anyone else, he'd be scoffing at the title. But, even Diluc has to admit that it sounds appealing when it falls from her lips. Or, maybe he's just too infatuated to think of it as anything less when it comes from her.

But of course he wouldn't admit that.

"You shouldn't have" Grateful as he is, he sighs, and she can tell he's weighing his options. Diluc was not a fan of presents yet he could see how detailed and high quality the cloak was. It was simple yet the golden accents plus detailed embroidery was beautiful. Before he could think much, Y/N spoke.

"Don't think much of it, it's just a token of thanks-" She knew it'd be best to act naive of her new found information by gifting him something. But it doesn't mean she can't find ways to alleviate the situation

"-For helping me with this commission" As she outstretched her hand, she caught sight of the softest smile as it pulls ever so slightly on the corners of his lips. She chuckled at the sight for it is rare to see the man let down his guard and take a hold of her hand.

"Now let's take care of that fatui hideout so you can gave some peace of mind for the rest of your night." Fatui matters are not something they take lightly but just for today, they'd make their night a living hell as punishment.

For making someone's birthday a memorable one in a horrible way.

Letting off some steam by beating off enemies isn't really a good birthday event. Though it's the only thing Y/N knew how to do good in besides sewing. As they ran through the night in the whispering woods, she started to rethink if this was a good idea. However these thoughts quickly dissipated as soon as it came when she saw a certain glint in his eyes.

She and Diluc were partners yet they know little about each other. That's why these nightly activities became something they could connect at. It probably wasn't a good reason but these ventures is something they could feel comfortable at in each other's presence.

They weren't lovers after all, just partners.

Either way, she knew she should definitely think of another way to celebrate his birthday but as of now, this should do.

'Happy Birthday Diluc'

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin oneshot #genshin fanfic #genshin x y/n #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #genshin fluff #diluc birthday #female reader

[sukirichi]

earned it [07]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. explicit smut, pool sex, slight angst, i miss naoya :(, mafia business, mentions of blood, lots of drama, mentions of death and murder

note. IDEK ANYMORE. lmao anyways do you guys want faster updates or do you guys want to wait? i can finish the series next week and then we can move on to white lies 😈

series masterlist

The three of you were seated back at your tables, where the whole dancing fiasco had thankfully ended. Satoru noticed nothing of your behavior – either he was really clueless, or you were a damn good actor – the guy was much too invested with the files Nanami was currently showing.

For a moment, you let yourself loosen as you took a deep breath. The account was much more important than whatever Nanami was scheming.

“I think I may have found where the real money is, or treasure, we should say, since none of us can really figure out what the Zen’ins might be hiding. And from the looks of it, considering Naoya had no idea about what his family kept prior to his death, this is something only his elders wanted to know about,” Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding a photo of an unsuspecting white manor that you hadn’t seen in a long time. “And it’s been right under our nose the whole time.”

“That’s one of our islands,” you replied with a furrowed brow, “Are you saying you traced the source back there? But that’s impossible, we haven’t used that island for years and even Naoya told me he was going to sell it because it was of no use to us. It’s not on commercial waters and there’s no local people around either. That island is in the middle of nowhere.”

“This is exactly why it’s the best place to hide things – because no one would ever suspect this seemingly harmless middle of nowhere could contain their assets.”

Satoru, who’d kept silent the whole time, inched closer to you. His cologne wafting off to you eased you for a moment – purely because it was familiar – and even though you despised saying it, you were thankful he was here. Currently, the blond man posed a bigger threat, the difference being that Nanami actually had leverage against you while you had more control over Satoru.

You sighed. If Naoya was here, things would’ve been so much better. He never lost his composure in figuring things out on his own. But now that he was gone, now that he’d never be coming back, you had be responsible for his sake, but mostly for yours.

“Take a look at this. The nearest land is a small, uncharted city from Brazil’s outskirts. I’ve been illegally transporting weaponry and firearms somewhere near there since our family started the business – it’s the easiest place to sneak in things without getting caught. All you need to do is pay a few fishermen and they’ll easily transport our load from one place to another, no questions asked,” Satoru announced, seemingly deep in thought as he rubbed his chin. “It would make sense if the Zen’in clan elders found this place useful too. It’s basically a hot site for criminals.”

“But we don’t operate this way. The Zen’in elders are too prideful to handle transactions like this. They would’ve chosen a more…discreet yet formal way of handling things.”

“How does an underwater passage sound?” Nanami pushed the other photo aside to reveal a blurry snap of what seemed like a tunnel under the sea. On the surface, it looked just like an abandoned rig, but it stretched too long, the exterior already covered in mold and seaweed. “About 80 years ago, the Zen’in Clan leader at that time was often heavily targeted by their enemies in business that they preferred to travel under the sea. If my theory is correct, right under that island would be another base of some sort that allows the clan leaders move from one country to another while remaining undetected.”

“So that’s how they easily sent their own shit overseas…”

“It would be a very sound conclusion to assume so,” Nanami crossed his arms at Satoru’s musings, “However, that’s all I know. All I can tell you is where I last got the signal for the source – which is about seven years ago, and a few months right after Toji Zen’in was disowned by his family when Naobito took over. It would also be near around the time he met his wife and had his child, which would increase the possibilities that he may have stored something in this island for his son’s future. Again, it could be money, gold – we don’t really know,” he nodded your way, a sense of finality behind those blue eyes that had now looked so menacing when once it brought you comfort – reassurance. “How you get there is all up to you.”

Something didn’t feel right.

“If the elders really wanted to hide this place, they wouldn’t have passed the rights of the island into my inheritance when Naoya died. They surely wouldn’t have wanted me to find out about this.”

“I could think of two things,” Satoru proposed, “It’s either they trust your potential enough as the clan leader to replace Naoya, or they didn’t think you’d care anyway.”

You let his words sink in. The clan elders have never bothered much with you. They were too prideful about “saving face” and “keeping up images” that they couldn’t even let a word of insult slip past their lips under the belief they were above that. But you weren’t stupid; they had never approved of your marriage to Naoya. An outsider like you, suddenly becoming a part of their family when they could’ve had your husband marry a family friend?

They may have kept silent about their dislike to you, but one way or another, they were going to take action for it.

Knowing the Zen’ins, being a Zen’in, you knew there was one thing they hated the most: not being in control.

“Neither,” you finally concluded while mumbling down at your lap. The theory was hazy, incomplete, based only on mere emotions but slowly, you were coming together to piece it. You felt Satoru turn your way, his large hand caressing your knee as if coaxing the words out of you. “It’s neither. Naoya’s elders…they never liked me. It’s been made pretty clear to me that I’m dispensable without my husband, and I will never be a Zen’in in their eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked me to give up all my inheritance from Naoya because I’m not related to them by blood.”

The silence in the table stretched.

No matter how grandiose the hotel restaurant may be, you felt suffocated in that seat. How didn’t you realize it sooner? You were in a land that stretched past your territory, with both men accompanying you people you couldn’t wholeheartedly trust, while your husband rotted away back at home – probably covered in dust and not even given a proper burial like he deserved.

There was only one way out of this, to put an end to everything. It would prove to be a daunting task, but you didn’t have a choice. No, in fact, this was your only choice if you wanted to survive.

Satoru’s voice softened upon seeing the grimness of how you turned mum. “I’ll follow you wherever you go. I promise to help you in finding out whatever is in there,” he met your eyes; yours filled with contempt, with fear, with desperation, and his filled with regret. “It’s the least I could do…after everything I’ve done to you.”

You took a deep breath.

You couldn’t lie to yourself. There was no way you could trust him with his empty promises. He’d shown enough times that he wasn’t a man of his word, and you’d be a fool to fall for it again. However, Nanami’s glance was curious and suspecting, hiding his true colors with an innocent gesture of sipping his wine. He may seem unbothered and only here to ‘help’, but this man was cunning, possibly more so than Naoya could ever be, and one wrong move would be similar to stepping on a land mine.

Satoru received no response from you, and soon the three of you were standing outside the hotel’s lobby to escort Nanami back where he came from. The dinner was tense, so much so that you’d unknowingly been clutching Satoru’s bicep the whole time.

He tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to life as he gestured to his phone. “Sorry, it’s Geto.”

“Oh,” you muttered and stepped away from him, feeling your heart sink in your chest as you watched him retreat behind the glass doors. Beside you, Nanami snickered.

“Made up your mind, agent?” he taunted, “This is your final chance to prove yourself. Gather enough intel for us to intrude whatever that mighty clan is hiding underneath that island, surrender Gojo to us, and we’ll give you everything as promised.”

You faced him with fiery eyes, prepared for whatever he’d throw your way when he showed you that cursed red coin again. Realizing its power, the true meaning it held, you immediately shut your lips. It must’ve satisfied to know he was the one in charge here, and how could he not be when your life was literally at the palm of his hands, your days growing more numbered if you didn’t follow everything he asked for?

If you had just…if you had just done everything the Organization had asked you for, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t have felt this torn.

Nanami flipped the coin before tucking it into his pocket, sending one last salute your way. He hailed a cab and disappeared afterwards, leaving you alone to ponder over the consequences of your actions, your emotions. For the first time in his life, Naoya had lied to you.

He wasn’t correct when he said you were strong.

Because after all this time, you still held onto something that you should’ve let go of a long time ago, and you had nothing but your weak, sensitive, hopeless heart to blame for. Said hurdle appeared not long afterwards, his touch warm on your shoulder as he gazed at the empty spot beside you.

“Oh, Nanami left,” he noted, turning your shoulders to him until you were completely exposed. There was no more hiding from him, or more like you didn’t have enough energy to. You felt dull, tiredness lining your eyes and lips pressed into a flat line. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Ten days. That was how much you’ve wasted your time here in Milan, and you weren’t even remotely close to figuring things out. Your resources were much more limited the farther you were from the Zen’in Estate, and your lawyer was a family one, meaning they held more loyalty to the actual Zen’ins instead of law-affiliated people like you were.

Simply put, you were all alone to solve this by yourself.

Satoru promised to help, but he kept disappearing in the morning along with Geto. You never asked where they went or what they did; it simply didn’t matter anymore.

You would only spend hours locked in your room as you researched everything you could on your private island near Brazil. Just like Satoru said, it seemed like the perfect place to hide things for the spot seemed remote enough to offer privacy for the family’s getaway. You could somewhat recall Naoya proposing once to take you there for your honeymoon, but business got in the way, and it wasn’t like you truly trusted him then to spend such an intimate with him that you said no.

Sighing, you put all the papers away. Not even a single clue led you to what could be possibly be there, but there was an underwater passage. The fact the Zen’ins was capable of building that made you wonder just what the extent of their powers and influence stretched to, and you contemplated for a bit if you could hold that same ability now that you had his name.

Whatever was there, you would look for it.

Your mission was clear – the success of it would determine the fate of your life. Find out what they’re hiding, surrender Satoru Gojo to the Organization, and then everything would be over.

It sounded simple, yet your heart knew it wasn’t. Naoya died with the confidence of his trust over you, the trust you worked so hard to earn. But wasn’t that point? You needed him to trust you for you to be able to pull this mission off, but things happened, emotions and conscience got in the way, and you banged your knuckles on the table until your ring throbbed on your finger.

You just wanted it all to end. You never meant to hurt Naoya, never meant to betray anyone, but it fucking pissed you off that Naoya wasn’t the real problem. He wasn’t the one holding you back.

With not much thought to your next actions, you slipped past the guards and into the pool that had long been closed since 10PM. Being at your room’s tub reminded you of memories you’d rather forget, and you slowly undid your robe and stepped out of your underwear before dipping in the cold, freezing water.

It felt good. It may have been temporary, but the numbing bite of the water helped you feel more placated. Even for a little while, it was nice to not worry about anything. There were no titles, no mafia drama, no anything, just you and the water that you would’ve easily fooled yourself to be simply enjoying your little trip in Milan until –

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You had me worried sick,” You sighed. Of course. Opening your eyes, you raised a brow as Satoru towered over you, a standard hotel towel in his arms. He’d change out of his suit and into cotton shorts and a shirt this time around, possibly on his way to sleep when he realized the room was empty. With no energy to deal with him, you swam away from the man, earning a groan in response. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve been acting weird ever since Nanami came. Listen, if this is about that island, you don’t have to worry too much about anything. I have enough people and resources to help you in every step of the way.”

You ignored him. After everything that happened, what was there to talk about anymore? Even if you told him everything, he might not understand.

So you swam in the middle of the pool, thankful that it was dark enough from the maintenance shutting the lights off that Satoru struggled to find you. However, you’d underestimated him because soon you heard the splashing of the water, and you were harshly tugged by the wrist before Satoru cornered you at the edge of the pool.

He was breathing hard; both of you were, and tried to push past his chest, only to be met with a solid plane of muscle that wouldn’t budge. You sighed and turned away from him, covering your exposed chest with your arms.

“Whatever Naoya is looking for…you’ll find it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious,” the scorn in his tone had been so biting you turned back to him, about to hit him with something, scold him for something, but your words died down in your throat before you even had the chance to.

Satoru hadn’t been demanding. His face, illuminated by the moonlight, made his azure eyes twinkle like stardust exploding. Once in your life, you found so much comfort into staring at such beauty, but that was when everything was still a perfect lie. Funny how the truth ruined everything for its darkness, and you could only look back at him weakly, throat running dry from all the emotions that threatened to pour out of you.

Regret and desperation was written all over his face.

“Please,” he rested his forehead on yours, eyes closed as he mumbled, “You’re not alone in this. I don’t want to ask for much because I know I don’t deserve it, but please at least understand you don’t have to solve everything on your own. You’re not…you’re not alone. I’m here now.”

“When you left me,” your voice cracked, “It’s because you thought I wouldn’t love you anymore if I found out your true nature,” Satoru opened his eyes, anxiety swimming in those eyes that had once been so sweet. Perhaps he still held that sweetness now, albeit it was less tender and more cautious as he waited for you to continue. “If I told you about every sin I’ve committed, the name of each person I killed and everything I’ve done, would you stay with me? Or would you leave me again, only this time it’s because you think I’m no longer someone you could love?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” was all you said before you felt a tear prick the back of your eyes. You didn’t want him to see, god, you wanted to disappear in that moment you couldn’t think of anything else. Crashing your lips to his, you brought him down by the back of his neck to hide the tears freely falling from your face.

He froze for a split second before he eagerly pushed back, clenching the pool edges with his hands so hard his knuckles turned white. You were panting, moaning in his mouth as he pressed you harder against the edge, skin to skin, breath to breath, soul to soul.

Threading your hands to his hair, you grinded down on his shorts where he was already beginning to grow hard. Satoru groaned inside your mouth from your teasing but made no move to stop to – after all, why would he want to stop? It had been years, seven fucking years, and even you wouldn’t want to stop. It was wrong, it was dirty, it was immoral – but you needed this. You needed this more than ever.

Satoru’s hands tickled your waist as he squeezed them harsher than he intended, his calloused fingers travelling until he was kneading your breasts. You pulled away from him, head thrown back to rest on the edge.

And it was romantic.

The moon had never been so big, sprinkles of star shining in the vast darkness, the scene just perfect for two lovers in a getaway from the harshness of life. You knew it wasn’t real and the spell would break sooner than later, but did it matter? He rolled your beaded nipples into his fingers before he ducked down, lips suctioned to suck heavy bruises on the sensitive patch of skin on your neck that had you twitching in his hold.

Along with your moans, you cried harder. From heartbreak, from regret, from guilt; there was no turning back from this.

“Satoru, please, please, please. Make me feel better, make me feel good, I just want to forget everything.”

He nodded eagerly against your neck, letting your eager hands help him push his shorts down before his cock sprang free. His length grazed your lower abdomen for a moment, though he didn’t waste any time in entering your hole. You gritted your teeth at the intrusion, nails dug so hard in his shoulders that he bled.

The both of you had your foreheads connected, noses brushing and breaths mixing as you moaned and he sighed, eyes shut tight from finally being engulfed in your warmth.

“Right there, ‘Toru, oh fuck.”

“F-fuck,” he hitched one of your legs to wrap around his waist, “You’re still so tight after all this time,” Satoru praised, molding his lips with yours once again. He picked up his pace and watched as you desperately clung from one surface to another – his shoulders, his hair, the edge of the pool, flailing your arms each time his deep thrusts knocked the wind out of you – breasts bouncing as he bounced you on his cock.

“You look so fucking beautiful – my sweet, sweet angel. I missed you, missed you so fucking much.”

You didn’t say anything. No words were needed to be exchanged; actions spoke louder than words. At least right now, you could promise you wouldn’t lie.

Pulling him down for another kiss, you bit down on his bottom lip to muffle your moans, too speechless at each movement of his dick grazing past your walls. Fuck, he still felt so good, still knew your body way too well and your pussy hugged him so tight like you didn’t ever want to let go.

But you knew you had to, even as he came inside you and brought you back to your room, uncaring of the dripping mess you’ve both made before he locked the door.

You forgot how many hours you spent underneath him writhing in his bed. He took you each way he wanted – knees folded beside your head, on your side where he whispered all the filthy things he’d been wanting to do to you while he took you from behind, or your head squished on the pillow as he repeatedly smacked your ass, pulling your ass cheeks apart to praise you on how you took him so well. Satoru didn’t stop; you knew what you were getting into the moment you pulled him into you, that his sex drive was insane and he’d take long to tire himself out.

By the time the first shy fingertips of the sunlight extending across the horizon arrived, you were emptily staring at the window, Satoru fast asleep beside you.

It was time.

Silently, you pulled his arm away from you and quickly got dressed. He seemed to still be deep in slumber, and you carried the only bag previously packed with everything you might need. You were on the process of wearing your stilettos when he stirred awake, sleepily eyeing you from the bed you both devoted yourselves to in pleasuring one another.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” you answered, tight-lipped. “From you.”

“Why?”

“Because…I lied,” you inhaled sharply, gloved hands frozen on the golden knobs.

Just open it, you screamed at yourself, walk away before it’s too late.

But you couldn’t move, pathetic that even after everything Naoya had worked so hard for, you still remained a slave to your past.

“No matter how much I hate everything you’ve done to me, I can’t bring myself to forget I once loved you. Maybe I still do – I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m not as strong as I thought I was,” you cried, losing grip on the bag before it fell. You watched emptily as all the contents poured out – your money, your clothes, your phone, your ring – it all served as a reminder of who you were, of who you’d forgotten to be, of who you were supposed to be.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I don’t have enough strength to kill you.”

“Hey, angel,” he cooed, reaching you in three long strides before he caged you in his arms. Satoru was so warm, so strong, and the safety he provided you with only made you cry harder. You wanted to hate him, wanted to keep lying yourself since you’d been doing a great job at doing that for the past seven years, but it wasn’t that easy. Deep down…you still harbored the most miniscule affection, and that enough was capable of destroying you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you whispered brokenly as you banged a weak fist to his chest, “Everything is wrong.”

Finavice Pharmaceuticals didn’t disappoint.

You were beyond impressed the moment you stepped through the door, a horde of eager chemists guiding you through the upper floors. Finavice was one of the biggest – if not the biggest – companies that were known for harboring the rarest or hard to get elements that not even you and Naoya could get your hands on.

Not by yourselves, anyway, so you took it upon yourself to strike a sponsorship to their research program in developing a cure to cancer under the guise of being an advocate to the improvement of the medical field.

Truthfully, you just wanted to please Naoya, show him you were useful and that he didn’t need to kill you. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and there you were, your prettiest smile plastered on as you scanned the towering buildings with unmasked interest.

“Here is the laboratory for the Finavice Pharmaceuticals where we test…”

“Mrs. Zen’in?”

The entire team stopped as a tall man, cloaked in a beige suit instead of a lab coat appearhed out of nowhere. Judging by how everyone had ducked their heads down and turned silent, you could only guess he must be the boss. Flashing your most charming smile, you hitched your bag higher up your arm. “Yes?”

“May I have a word with you?”

You fought the urge to sigh. His question was spoken much more of a statement that you weren’t really given a room to decline, and the young chemists gazed at you curiously under their lashes.

Not wanting to create a commotion that would lead into unwanted attention, you nodded, following the man through a set of double doors, guarded by two heavily armed men from the outside.

The man, who was Kento Nanami, the founder of Finavice himself leaned back into his seat as he made himself comfortable. “So you signed a contract with us two weeks ago to partner on our latest medicine, am I right? I’ve read over your proposals and I must say, they are rather interesting and innovative. I didn’t expect that a businessman’s wife would be a chemist who is interested in expanding to the pharmaceuticals as well. The Zen’ins has never been much invested in that.”

Gladly accepting the tea he’d slid your way, you made sure to clink the teaspoon against the porcelain as you played along. “People change, Mr. Kento. My husband and I’s goals are rather different from their former, traditional ones. Surely, steel exchange couldn’t support us for the rest of our lives.”

“I can’t say no to that. Kudos to you and your husband for your rather…ambitious shared goals then.”

Your hand froze on the utensil, and you narrowed your eyes at him in warning. “Are you implying we should not have trusted you with this, Mr. Kento?”

“No, I am merely letting you know that your act won’t fool me,” he chuckled, leaning forwards to rest his chin on his clasped knuckles, his blue eyes growing dark and serious. “I know what you and your husband’s family does. The Organization knows a lot more about your actions than you think you know we do. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re only here because we’re the only company who has access to an element you need for your drug, isn’t that the case, Mrs. Zen’in?”

Well…this was certainly unexpected. You’ve been effortlessly deceiving countless businessmen, government leaders and officials even, that this took you by your surprise. Two could play at this game.

Even if he saw through you long ago, it wouldn’t take much to grab his letter opener that was right beside you and puncture it through a jugular vein. If his guards came, you could easily take them down too. Today was one of those few moments you were thankful for Naoya’s hellish training.

But you didn’t want him to feel satisfied, so you leaned back into your seat and crossed your leg over the other.

“If you knew this whole time, why didn’t you kill me already? A lot of people wouldn’t miss the chance to do so.”

Nanami chuckled. “It’s because like you, I’m not just a pioneer. I, too, have my goals and loyalty laid out for someone else. Most specifically, the Organization, an international collaborative effort of stopping and reducing mafia movement for the safety of our people. Obviously, I’ve been assigned in the Yakuza Division, and it’s no coincidence I read through your file. You are, after all, one of our precious targets.”

You stared at him boredly. Why couldn’t he just get straight to the point?

“Is this a threat? I’m not sure it’s working.”

“Oh, no, I’m not threatening you,” he snatched your tea and took a long sip from it, and it was the first time you learned of his habit of concealing his curious gaze through drinking; a perfect act to seem inconspicuous.

“I am offering you a path to redemption. You may fool everyone, but I know an unhappy woman when I see one, Mrs. Zen’in, and I can tell you find no pleasure in the life you live – running errands for your criminal husband, constantly fearing for your life, wishing you’d just been a regular person like everyone else…” At the lack of response, he took it a gesture for him to continue, and he set the cup down, pushing his glasses right back up his nose. “The Organization has labeled you a target, but I think you’re more of a victim caught in a series of unfortunate events. I merely wish to save you from it.”

You guffawed in laughter at his last statement.

“You men really are ridiculous!” you slapped your palm on his table, losing every bit of that elegant composure to be perfected by a Zen’in wife. “Always preaching about saving me and protecting me – what actually are you pathetic losers even capable of?”

Much to your dismay, Nanami didn’t seem the least bit affected by your mockery.

“Please, don’t group me in with your husband and your former lover. Unlike them, I harbor no interest in you as a woman, I only want to fulfill my duty as an Agent and save you not because you’re a damsel in distress, but rather because…I could kill two birds with one stone,” his eyes shone in mischief, and you swallowed in discomfort as he gazed you up and down.

You’ve had enough experience with being seen as a meal, but this was different. Nanami was viewing you like you were a secret weapon he intended on using as much as he could to achieve his goals.

“You are a very convenient woman, Mrs. Zen’in. Similar to how your husband adores your abilities, I would like to take advantage of your connections. The only difference between me and them is that I can actually give you something money can’t even buy.”

“Such as?”

“A second chance at a normal life.”

“What makes you think I’ll accept your offer? I’m the wife of a mafia leader – my loyalty resides in him.”

“Only because you fear for your life,” he flashed you a red coin, crescents of a Latin quote scripted inside. Mori quam foedari – death before dishonor.

“Join the Organization, Y/N. With your connections, we could easily take down these families and protect the country. Hand over Satoru Gojo and Naoya Zen’in to us, and I promise the Organization will do everything in its power to give you the life you always wanted. A safe, normal one. No more worrying about being killed as you ride your car, no more beating yourself up as you make drugs to promise your usefulness to your husband and no more pretending you are someone who you’re not,” he flipped the coin between his fingers, and tantalized, you couldn’t keep your eyes off it. “Don’t you want that? You’d be able to live freely if you cooperate with us.”

You could hear the gears in your head turning. Part of you would’ve assumed this was a trap had you not known better, but Naoya taught you that if something was a trap, it would sound too easy, too good.

None of this was easy. It would require facing a demon from your past and handling things differently than what Naoya had planned, but that wasn’t the worst.

It was the fact that if you accepted, you’d have to come home tonight and lie in the face of your husband who could easily read through you. He smelled lies and treachery before you could realize you were even thinking of doing something, and knowing Naoya, he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes the instant he felt something was off.

But his offer… it was a risk you had to take. You wouldn’t ever get an opportunity like this again.

“Do you promise…that I’ll really go back to normal after this? That I won’t be involved in this mess anymore?”

“I can only promise that if you also promise to do your part. You see, I strongly believe you are the one that can put an end to this all. All you have to do is join us, and soon it’ll feel like this nightmare never happened at all. You’ll be free from Naoya Zen’in and Gojo Satoru before you realize it.”

You stared at his coin harder. Death before dishonor. This Organization he was a part of obviously didn’t fuck around, and it seemed scarier because they had their eyes on you for a while now. What were the odds they offered a deal instead of outright killing you, even going as far as to provide you a second chance at life, one that you genuinely wanted to enjoy? It would be a shame to say no, and even if the chances of this turning out well were low, you would damn well take it. A small chance was better than nothing.

“What do I have to do?”

Nanami grinned and pocketed his coin. “A very wise decision, Mrs. Zen’in,” he congratulated, “Please, meet me at my office tomorrow, eight on the dot. Oh, and remember, the Organization will now be watching you wherever you go. You’re one of us now.”

The next day, Nanami had cut your palm.

He spilled your blood into an empty metal casing with engraved letters, mori quam foedari, the phrase both comforting and ominous. Soon, you came home with your blood solidified into a coin to prove your membership and loyalty, that they quite owned you in more ways than one. Your blood meant your loyalty, and the coin felt heavy in your pocket with the implication it was also your blood they wouldn’t hesitate to spill should you betray them.

Mori quam foedari.

Death before dishonor.

Your life over Naoya’s, your future over Gojo’s.

The next few days had been tense. After telling Satoru everything down from the smallest detail, things had shifted between you. Quite frankly, you expected that maybe he’d kill you right then and there after explicitly stating that just because you couldn’t kill him, didn’t mean you wouldn’t turn him in.

“Angel,” he begged, “Will you never really give me the chance to do everything right this time around?”

However, you were too firm on your plans. You originally wanted to leave and go to the island yourself; it was easier to leave Satoru open and vulnerable for the Organization to attack him in your absence. He loved you, that was much clear, and if he looked for you, he’d make himself vulnerable to the Organization, but recent plans had to be altered now that he wasn’t willing to let go of you. Though no matter what he said, you valued your life and future more than you could ever love him.

It was an act of kindness to yourself.

“I don’t want this life anymore, Satoru. Either way, I don’t have a choice, not when I could die literally anytime before I could even say goodbye.”

It had been hours since ‘that’ talk and now you were on a plane back to Tokyo. You had to pull out some archives from Naoya’s files to know more about the island before you could visit it, and it was important for Satoru to know details such as security measures over there.

You’d long fallen asleep from exhaustion, bundled up in a fleece blanket while Geto glared at you.

“Are you sure about this, Sir? I think we should just keep her with us even if she doesn’t want to. The Gojo clan is powerful enough that no one would dare cross us. Not even this Organization she speaks of has ever done anything to us. Without her, they stand no chance against us,” he sat in front his boss and kept sending wary glances your way. “Letting her go like you did before wasn’t a good idea. She knows too much about everyone to live normally now. Do you really believe the Organization will protect her?”

“Knowing the strings the government could pull – and add on to the fact Nanami Kento, one of the richest men in this country works for them that it’s safe to assume each figure in them is a powerhouse – I don’t doubt their promise one bit.”

“But you’ll go to jail if you let her surrender you. Or worse, they’ll destroy the clan from the bottom up.”

“I know that, Geto.”

Geto groaned, brushing his hands through his hair from how indifferent his boss was being, drinking champagne as if he wasn’t willingly walking into his own death. “Then why aren’t you thinking more clearly about this? I understand you love her and you want to make it up to her, but we can’t let her do whatever she pleases! In order to keep herself safe, she’s going to sacrifice you! She’s dangerous, Sir, she’s been lying to her husband the whole time and who’s to say she isn’t capable of doing something worse to a stranger like you?”

“I told you already, Geto,” Satoru swirled the pink liquid in his flute, his face empty and unreadable. “I know.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I don’t agree with your decision. The clan would fall without you and you don’t have siblings or an heir. No one is powerful to hold the clan together aside from you so if you leave – there’s no more hope for us,” he sighed when Satoru didn’t budge. “I at least want you to reconsider your actions. She’s just a woman, Sir. It’s either we kill her or we imprison her. You let her go before because you believed she would be your downfall, and quite frankly, it’s happening all over again.”

Satoru gazed out the window, bringing the flute to his lips with a dark glint in his eye that Geto recognized meant trouble, or worse, an actual solution to this hellish situation.

“Which is why we’re going to pay an old friend a visit, Geto. There’s only one person who could turn the tables around.”

ADDITIONAL NOTE: TOJI IS COMING SOON!!! what are your theories on what might be on that island and *drum roll* WHO IS GOJO’S OLD FRIEND?! 

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#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo-satoru-x-reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader romance #jujutsu kaisen series #jujutsu kaisen x reader series #gojo x reader imagines #gojo x reader romance #gojo x reader angst #gojo satoru x reader imagines #gojo satoru x reader angst #gojo satoru x reader romance #jjk #jjk x you #sukirichi: earned it #naoya comeback when

[loousir]

[Elf] Royal Secrets

Secret Elf King x Royal Second Hand Reader

Faelynn

Warnings: Smoochin, tavern talks, time skips, uhh

Masterlist

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

You ran and hand through your hair with a sigh, sitting down on the bar chair with a soft 'plop'. The bartender looked to you with a fond and familiar smile. "Rough day again (Y/n)?" He asked while pulling out a glass from one of the cabinets. "I sometimes think my days will get better but I guess not. He is not fun to deal with... Especially when he's in a bad mood." The bartender smiled again and set a drink down in front of you.

"Well, just relax for tonight. You don't have any tasks for tomorrow do you?" You took a sip of the drink and smiled softly before that disappeared. "No, I don't. But I've got an important meeting day after tomorrow so I have to spend some time finalizing documents and getting ready for it."

"And by some time you mean the whole day? I get that..." A voice two seats over spoke, making both you and the bartender look to him. "Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. I'm Lynn." You smiled and introduced yourself as well which lead to the bartender walking off and making drinks for a group that had came in.

You and Lynn hit it off instantly. Both of you talked about various things related to your, work, if you will and you never thought you could fall for someone upon first meeting but...

'I just might have...'

"Lynn, I have a question." He hummed as he took a sip from his own drink. "How often do you come here? I've noticed you a few times before but I've never actually heard you talk to anyone." Lynn smiles softly and sets his cup down. "I try to come as often as I have time. And I've not talked to anyone cause their conversations haven't quite caught my attention like yours." You smiled and looked down to your hands that were intertwined around the small cup that you have.

You sighed and glanced at the clock that hung on the wall behind the bar. "Damn, I have to get going." You looked over to Lynn who had looked up to the clock as well.

'Woah, he's an elf? No wonder he's so beautiful.'

You though as you stared at him. He looked back to you and tilted his head slightly. "Are you ok (Y/n)?" His question had pulled you from your thoughts, making you blush and chuckle. "Yes, sorry. Is there a possibility I could see you again?" Lynn nods. "I'll be available to come pretty often but after this month I won't be able to for a little. It's when things bet busy for me unfortunately." He said with a sad tone and a soft sigh. You smiled and shook your head, slipping off of the chair and walking over to him.

He watched you walk over and grab his hand. You gently kissed his knuckles, keeping eye contact which made him blush slightly. "Til next do we meet Lynn. I look forward to it." You said gently letting his hand linger for a moment before letting him take it back. Lynn smiled and said a soft goodbye as he gently held the hand you kissed as you walked out of the bar.

'What an interesting character...'

•

--- •

The month that Lynn was available seemed to have passed in a flash. The two of you grew much, much closer than I'm sure either of you would've thought. Admittedly, neither of you had met outside of the tavern but, neither minded. This was a place both of you knew and could enjoy. You had been thinking about Lynn frequently. He was talking about something that had happened at his job which made you think.

'What just is his job? Maybe it's similar to mine with the way he talks about things.'

You thought to yourself, zoning out from what Lynn was saying. A soft hand grabbing your own, instantly snapping you from your thoughts. You looked down to his hand, gently grabbing yours. You smiled and held his hand in yours. "Sorry, I was lost in my own head again." You looked over to him to see he wasn't as smiley as you which made your smile fade. "Are you ok Lynn?" He holds on to your hand tighter and pulls it up to his lips, pressing them gently against the back of your hand.

"This may be the last day we get to see eachother for a while." The look you saw in his eyes made you want to cry. He looked so heart broken that he couldn't come see you anymore. "You two can use the spare room upstairs if you need a private place to talk." The bartender said. You looked over to them and nodded. "Thank you," You looked back to Lynn. "Would you like to?" You asked him. He nodded and both of you slipped off the chairs and you lead him to the room.

You flicked on the light and let him step into the room before closing the door behind him. Right as you turned back to him, he connected his lips to yours to which you instantly responded. You gently pressed yourself against him and held onto his hips as his slim fingers caressed your face and hair as if he would never be able to feel them again.

"Lynn," You spoke his name the second the both of you pulled away, both of you panting softly. His bright blue eyes gazed deeply into yours. "I want you to keep coming here, even if I'm not. I'll do what I can to come as often as possible. I wish we could meet at other places but..." Lynn looks away and hesitates heavily on what he was about to say. "It's ok..." You said with a small smile as he looks back to you.

"I'll keep coming. Just don't forget about me."

Lynn smiles as tears well up in his eyes before he collapses into you, hugging you tightly. You hugged him back just as tight. "You're very emotional all of a sudden. Did you have too much to drink?" You joked making him give a few small giggles. He pulled away and wiped his face before looking up to you, smiling. "It's been a very, very long time since I've felt this way and since I've had someone like you in my life." Lynn spoke softly as you navigated both of you over to the bed.

You sat Lynn down first before joining him and wrapping an arm around his waist. "(Y/n)?" You hummed and looked at the reflection of the two of you in the full-body mirror mounted on the wall. Your eyes seemed to have meet and you smiled, making Lynn blush and glance away. "I think we look really good together. Maybe one day we should make it official." Lynn looks up to you with a surprised yet slightly sad and scared look.

"That's up to you though." You said looking down to him with a smile. He didn't say anything but kissed you again, pushing you down on the bed and hovering over top of you. He rested his head on your shoulder and you gently kissed his pointed ears, making him shiver.

That eventually turned into a small makeout session but Lynn pulled away first, having you trail behind slightly not wanting to stop. You glanced at the clock above the door and sighed heavily.

"It seems it's our time to part huh?" You said looking to him as he got off of you. He nodded, which lead you to gently neaten his hair. Lynn leaned into your touch for a moment before taking you hand and kissing it gently, much like you did him when you first met. You smiled and held his hand as you lead him from the room, turning off the light before walking him out to the front doors of the tavern.

Both of you walked down the stone path out to the stables. Lynn always rode a horse to the tavern, which you have also become close with. You leaned in and kissed his lips softly. When both of you pulled away he waved you off and watched as you walked away.

'Til we meet again my dear.'

• --- •

You kept coming back to the tavern, keeping your nightly routine of checking Lynn's seat only to find it empty. You were only slightly disappointed, knowing that he would show up eventually. Your bartender friend smiled and placed a drink down in front of you. "I'm sure you two will meet again soon." He mumbled out before disappearing into the kitchen. You couldn't help but let your gaze linger a moment on the kitchen door, as if his words heald more meaning than you knew.

You spent most of the time thinking about an upcoming meeting you had with the King of the neighboring nation Elfendale. Your "job" is the second hand to the King of your own nation and he had tasked you with speaking to the other King in order to conduct an official alliance and go over some trade stuff. This tavern was on the border to both nations. Half of it was in yours and half was in the other.

The original arrangements were made by you and your neighboring counterpart on how the place would pay taxes and all those fun business things. Before you knew it, your time to leave had come.

'I sure hope this all goes well...'

---

The day finally arrived that you were to go to meet the King of Elfendale. You rode your horse into the town, catching the gazes of many. You had only two guards with you as the three of you rode up to the castle gates. The guards stopped you and asked to state your business. "(Y/n) (L/n), second hand to King Hervé. I'm here on official business." One guard looked to a list before nodding to the other to let the three of you in. Two other guards came and escorted you to put your horse in the royal stables while the other guided your guards to rest while you went in by yourself.

A certain horse in the stables seemed awfully excited to see you, this also caught the guards attention. "Have you met Whinefred before?" You were confused before shaking your head, playing it off. He nodded and put your horse into a stable before leading you up to the large front doors of the castle.

A man in a robe holding a scroll welcomed you in and walked you to the throne room.

"Attention please!" His voice called out to the room. You hadn't looked up from your satchel as you were looking to make sure if all the documents were there. "We welcome (Y/n) (L/n) to our humble castle. He is here for King Hervé since he was unavailable." You smiled and looked up with your eyes closed. 'He's not unavailable, just lazy.' You thought to yourself.

You finally opened your eyes to see an extraordinary familiar face. You contained the shocked expression on your face as the robed man kept talking and leading you towards the other. "-meet, King Faelynn." You looked over to the robed man and asked him with a hushed tone. "Does he have a twin?" The man shook his head. You looked up to Faelynn, shocked. Faelynn seemed quite content in this moment, happy even.

Faelynn stepped down from his throne and walked over to you. "Let's go discuss these in private." He said, motioning to the satchel who's strap you were clutching onto for dear life. You couldn't say anything but simply nodded.

Faelynn lead you to another large door and the guard who stood next to it, opened it for the both of you. Once the two of you were inside and the doors had closed, Faelynn crashed his lips against yours to which you instantly responded. Your hands found their way to his hips, pulling him closer to you.

"I think I've got some explaining to do." Faelynn said right as you pulled away. You nodded, still shocked. You moved yourself away from him and set the satchel down on the grand table behind both of you. He lead you over to a pair of chairs and had you sit before sitting next to you.

"To start, I'm sorry I didn't say anything. That's been one of the few places I can go and just be myself. I've never liked getting treated like a King but I inherited the throne from my father when I was pretty young so that may have been a reason why."

Faelynn held onto your hand and traced his thumb over your knuckles. "I never thought I would fall in love with someone, let alone someone I had just met in a tavern." He said with a soft chuckle, making you smile. You watched his eyes as he continued to speak. "I had seen you few times prior to that and I guess just listening to you I became, infatuated, and as we had started to chat I realized that I had fallen for you."

You smiled and pulled his hand closer to you, carefully removing the glove that framed his slim fingers nicely. You set the glove on the table and you gently kissed his hand, making him blush. "Faelynn." You spoke his full name out loud, making him get goosebumps. "Its odd saying your full name after calling you Lynn for so long." You said with a small chuckle. Faelynn intertwined his fingers with yours.

"Do you remember how you said we should make it official one day?" Faelynn asked, looking up to your eyes. You watched as he smiled more and kept your eyes looking to his. You felt something rather warm slip onto one of your fingers. "As an official alliance between Elfendale and Chroles. Soon to be King, (Y/n) (L/n), would you be mine?" You stared at the silver band that had been placed onto your finger.

Neither spoke for a moment but you looked up to him and pulled him into a kiss. Faelynn kissed back and interlocked your fingers again. Tears welled in your eyes as the two of you pulled away. "As both a personal benefit and an official alliance, I will be yours." Faelynn giggled and pecked your lips again.

"Let's get these papers figured out so we can start planning our wedding."

---- 2433 Not very proof read, may re-write and separate into parts

#monster x male reader #male monster x reader #x male reader #monster male x male reader #monster male #m4m #mxm

[favoniuscodex]

intergalactic au w/ zhongli, childe, and xiao

prompt: futuristic/intergalactic!au w/ zhongli, childe, and xiao for my 1.5k follower event pairings: zhongli x gn!reader, childe x gn!reader, xiao x gn!reader, word count: 2.8k words (i really like this au, ok?) a/n: haha oh jeez ok my knowledge of intergalactic stuff is an amalgamation of different stuff so this is gonna involve a few different types of space stuff! some of these are longer than others, apologies for the discrepancies in length! i had to stop some of these from becoming full fics hhhh

ZHONGLI

“so,” you state, unceremoniously slamming your hands down on the metal lunch table in front of you. “rex lapis. discuss.”

the two colleagues sitting in front of you differ in reactions to your noisy gesture. the shorter and angrier of the two, xiao, jumps slightly at the sudden intrusion, despite the bustling noise of the starship’s cafeteria surrounding the three of you. at his side, zhongli sits, regal as ever, sipping on a cup of tea that fails to shake within his grip. the brunette sets the drink down on the table before him and looks at you patiently.

“what do you wish for us to discuss?” zhongli asks while xiao scowls at you in annoyance.

“there’s nothing to discuss,” xiao grumbles, cutting up cubes of the low-grade tofu in front of him with the side of his fork absentmindedly. “he died. the end.”

“did he?” you challenge and xiao lets out a heavy sigh of a man worn out by your mere existence. “alright, zhongli, hear me out on this. what if it’s just a coverup by the liyuean fleet? none of us really even knew what he looked like, who he was, et cetera et cetera, y’know? so like... he could very well be alive.”

“indulging in conspiracy theories,” xiao mutters. “how mature of you.” he grouchily stabs some of the decimated remains of the tofu cubes in front of them and takes a bite, wincing slightly at the low quality texture. however, zhongli’s honey eyes shine with mirth at your proposition. 

“i believe that such notions are never beyond the realm of possibility,” zhongli confesses, causing xiao to sputter and choke on his cafeteria meal.

“you have to be kidding me. that’s the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard. they could’ve just said he retired or something. why would the fleet cover up his existence with a falsified death?” xiao challenges, his gaze flickering between your smug expression and zhongli’s entirely placated one.

“some people say rex lapis turned into a dragon and flew away. oooo~! watch out, xiao, he’s going to come for you, oooo~!” you mimic the sounds of a ghost as you flap your hands in a wing-like motion, leaning in closer to xiao, who leans away in repulsion and fear. xiao shrieks slightly as you breach his personal space and he hides behind zhongli’s figure, whose intense gaze causes you to stop your teasing and sit up straight, despite a soft smile gracing his elegant features.

“(y/n),” zhongli questions in a soft tone reserved only for you. “did you finish your review of the engine room’s oxygen and sediment filter?”

you look sheepishly down at the tray of food in front of you. “no, but... nobody’s allowed in the engine room right now. some dumb intern got his keycard stolen so the whole room is on lockdown while they reprogram everyone else’s.”

“well, if you have no other tasks to complete today, would you like to assist me with my research?” zhongli asks and, with no hesitation, you nod in response.

“of course! do you still need help with analyzing how to best redirect flow of air in the suits of the astronauts traveling to planet 48-ab-9?” you say, looking to make sure you and zhongli are on the same page. he smiles at you, which gives you the answer you need before the words even fall from his lips.

“yes, but there may also be possible diversions to other planets and air pressure within the spacesuits on one planet may cause ruptures in the other and-” zhongli begins, but is interrupted by xiao standing up abruptly, the tofu on his tray barely touched.

“i am full!” xiao declares, which causes you to narrow your eyes at him in disbelief. zhongli, however, buys xiao’s blatant lie. “which means, like every upstanding worker of the liyuean fleet, it’s time to return back to the contractual chains of coding hell!”

you can only watch as the green-haired man scurries off without waiting for your responses, far too eager to return to the cybersecurity job he always seems to complain about.

“so, where were we?” zhongli asks, capturing your undivided attention once more. you let out a soft huff of amusement at the situation and flash a smile in return.

---

zhongli is a consistently overlooked member of the liyuean fleet, residing as one of the few interplanetary geologists on board. to put it simply, zhongli works alongside you, an environmental engineer, to help ensure the safety of liyuean fleet explorers as they venture into unknown territory. you develop the products and do routine maintenance on various air quality-related machinery within the massive mothership of the liyuean fleet, while zhongli studies previously-recorded information about other planets in order to provide hypotheses about what potential new planets’ geological systems may be like and what needs to be done for astronauts to acclimate to them.

the talkative geologist is polite to all, but talkative to few, one of whom is you. while the two of you work side by side, the man has a tendency to ramble about the compositions of different planetary soils and what they means to human life should they encounter it. if you’re being honest with yourself, the topic nearly puts you to sleep, but you find it adorable that he can talk so passionately for so long on such a mundane topic.

you let zhongli ramble for three reasons. one: you don’t have the heart to tell him to stop. two: you have a massive crush on him that only seems to worsen the more you see his amber eyes nearly glow with passion whenever you ask questions about his work. finally, three: you’re waiting for zhongli to slip up and reveal why someone of his talent finally got assigned to the mothership immediately after the supposed death of rex lapis.

as he launches into another rambling session, you can’t help but zone zhongli out as a startling idea pops into your head about the calming man who loves three things in life (history, tea, and rocks, in that order).

could he be...? you push the thought out of your head and decide to accept the liyuean fleet command’s announcement at face value. commander rex lapis is dead and there’s absolutely, certainly, definitely no way that zhongli is the man who once brought the tsaritsa’s warships to a crumbling halt.

right?

CHILDE

the dashing rogue with a heart of gold is certainly one of the most respectable men in the galaxy. he saves damsels in distress and redistributes wealth to the poor. he’s perfect in every manner -- don’t you see his charming smile? how could you not trust him? he’ll lure you in with sweet words and false affections, brushing your hair behind your ear as he makes you giggle and flustered due to his flirtations. the illusion pops when he waltzes away from you with a wink and you realize you’re missing your wallet a few minutes later. 

childe, a man of many aliases ranging from the theatrical tartaglia to the mythological ajax, is one of the galaxy’s most wanted thieves. he’ll insist he’s not a kleptomaniac, but feeds off the golden veins of wealth he steals from others as if he is a vampire, a primal instinct he can’t seem to control. no target is too big or small for the man, especially if a rival is involved.

in this case, it’s you. he finds you at a bar, in which grating electronic music blasts overhead and rainbow lights paint his skin in different colors as they flash to the beat. childe is forced to yell over the music, yet none of his signature charm is lost as he does his best to cozy up to you, buying you a drink and warding off any unwanted suitors, especially the alien with eight hands who wont stop insisting that he just wants to hold one of yours. 

you almost let yourself get swept away in his radiant baby blues and his wispy, ruddy brown hair, but you’re smarter than that. you can see the intelligence in his eyes and you wonder if he can see it in yours. despite his kindness and his genuine enthusiasm to hear what you have to say, he holds an arrogance in his posture that shows that childe is underestimating you. you know what he’s after: the keycard to the liyuean fleet engine room, one you had swiped off some unsuspecting intern earlier in the day to deposit in your own safekeeping, in hopes to one day sell it to likely nefarious evildoers who would pay a pretty penny for an access key like that.

but buyers have never been one to keep secrets and you’re far too aware that loose lips sink ships -- or in this case, the main starship of the liyuean fleet -- and childe is far too aware of the card that lies within your possession. you smile as you feel his hand gently tug your wallet out of your coat pocket, an action that would have gone unnoticed if you weren’t a master thief as well. you let him walk away as he winks at you and promises to see you again, a blatant lie on his behalf.

you’re gone from your seat before he realizes the keycard isn’t in your wallet -- nothing is. it’s empty, aside from a faded business card offering the services of your thievery, with a smiley face drawn on the back and two words: duped ya! emblazoned next to the face that taunts childe. a rush of adrenaline ripples through him and he’s not sure whether it’s due to rage or excitement. as he reaches into his pocket, he decides it’s the former as childe realizes the keys to his ship are missing.

childe can’t help but smile when he sees his ship missing in the public dock nearby. after all, he had a new goal: tracking you, his treasured spaceship, and that damned keycard down, even if he would have to scour the entire galaxy just to see your eyes once more.

XIAO

“hey,” a familiar voice barks, which xiao ignores as he nuzzles his face further into his elbow, having fallen asleep at his desk. “hey!” the voice is more insistent and he feels fingers dig into his shoulder, shaking his slumped over form and moving xiao’s wheeled office chair slightly. “get up. you’re sleeping on the job and night shift is coming soon.”

as the voice continues to not leave him alone, xiao finally realizes who is speaking to him. its you. upon this realization, xiao concedes and sits up, wincing as he adjusts to the harsh fluorescent lights that illuminate the room.

“there is no night shift. we’re in space. that’s not a-” xiao complains, but upon seeing you and realizing what you’re holding up in a bag in your hand, ceases his whining and instead chooses to look up at you with wide eyes. “holy shit, is that surface almond tofu?! how did you get that?!”

“sheesh.” you begin, waving the bag slightly back and forth. “i didn’t think you would get this riled up over it.” 

“i would sell my soul for a bag of that after suffering through the eternal misery that is the food on this godforsaken ship.” xiao deadpans and you can’t help but think he’s almost serious. he extends his hands to you and you can’t help but note the way the sleeves of his uniform are pushed up to his elbows, especially since his forearms showcase a plethora of scars that you rarely get to see. they signal that the man is an outsider to your legion of computer nerds (and that his well-defined forearms are really hot, but that’s beside the point). 

you quickly snap out of your daze as his hands crinkle the bag you’re holding and you lightly swat his hands away from the bag, glaring at him. a scowl crosses his features at your actions and he slumps against the back of his chair, swiveling to fully face you.

“the tofu is yours, but i need something in exchange,” you bargain and you watch as xiao’s eyes narrow at the horrid implication held within your tone. “a lot of my cybersecurity guys are out trying to rework the engine room’s login mechanism... it’s a long story. anyways, i was wondering if you’d find it within the kindness of your heart to pick up one of their shifts.”

“you’re not paying me for this shift, are you?” xiao asks and you can feel your face scrunch up in irritation.

“listen, i went to hell and back to try to get you this tofu so you would say yes and you’re worried about payment? they cover lodging and food when you work he-” you begin to rant, but a rare smile from xiao makes the words die on your lips as you feel heat rise to your face.

“i never said i wouldn’t. you’re always so quick to judge.” his tone is condescending as he smirks smugly at you, reaching to take the bag of tofu from your now slackened grip as you stare at him, visibly flustered by his haughty tone in tandem with a grin you scarcely see.

“oh... uh, alright,” you try to recover, readjusting your posture to stand up straighter, willing yourself to stay composed. his golden eyes stare directly into yours as he plucks a cube of tofu out of the bag with his index finger and thumb. without breaking eye contact, he pops the tofu cube into his mouth and, after swallowing, licks his lips. “let’s um... let’s get started!”

---

xiao is a former yaksha, an elite fighter who served as part of commander rex lapis’s most trusted squadron of soldiers. after an injury rendered him unfit to return to battle, xiao decided to look for other ways to help defend the liyuean fleet, which resulted in him joining your group of cybersecurity experts, who protect the fleet by making sure all systems remain secure and that there are no electronic security breaches.

at the beginning of his job, xiao was fairly terrible with technology and would have been fired nearly immediately for his incompetence if not for his direct recommendation from rex lapis himself. unfortunately for you, you were assigned his superior and nearly lost your mind when the man had to stare at the keyboard in order to know where the keys were as he typed. xiao’s attitude was initially offputting, both sardonic and angry, but he eventually sheathed his bitter defensive weapon of haughtiness and condescension in order to ask you for help outside of work hours to help him learn how to be better at his job.

now, several years later, the two of you are fairly good friends (as good as one can be friends with xiao, you think) to the point where he whines about his dumb bumbling friends (zhongli and some other person you had yet to catch the name of) who run in circles around each other, despite the fact that they blatantly like each other. each time he complains, you scratch your head in confusion, because you and him do the exact same thing.

you’re not entirely oblivious. you’ve realized that xiao acts... different around you than he does around most people. he’s softer and more open, but you don’t want to get your hopes up, so you’ve made yourself more open in return, hoping that he’ll realize your interest. often times, your flirtations will leave him flustered and reeling, but on rare occasions, xiao will take the opportunity to fluster you instead, which is far more effective than any way you could try to charm him. you’re fairly sure he can read you like an open book, so you wait for him to confess his emotions to you.

little do you know, xiao feels the exact same way about you as he awaits your confession. no, he’s not scared of rejection. he’s a former yaksha, do you know how many people he’s taken down? why would he be scared of heartbreak and the utter agony that follows as he’s forced not only to deal with rejection but report to you at work every day? ... oh. maybe he is a little scared. just a teensy, tiny little bit scared.

but hey, if the two of you are lucky, maybe you’ll both confess at the same time after the tension between the two of you nearly suffocates you both.

#fun fact: the intern who lost the dumb keycard is xiangling #she saw some food and got distracted #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #childe x reader #zhongli #childe #genshin impact #//writing #//zhongli #//xiao #//childe #//1.5k event #xiao

[misschifuyu]

Idk if ur still taking requests but I need more Sanzu and Kazutora general headcanons dhsnnwkwj

- yess bby, when you sent this is in was still taking requests dw !! and here you go ♡ some more sanzu content, especially after yesterday's chapter omgkdks

Sanzu and Kazutora general headcanons

characters: sanzu + kazutora hanemiya

genre: fluff

warnings: none

Sanzu

so we all now know that sanzu is a loyal person, but can also easily slip into lying to others. and he's good at keeping this facade for as long as he deems necessary

he's most likely someone who won't trust another easily, and as a result, won't feel much remorse if he must go against someone he seemingly knows or gets along with

it's probably a mechanism he goes with to prevent any feelings to get involved when it came down to facing the truth of the situation

it just makes things easier at the end of the day

much unlike the other toman members, this won't affect the way he acts. he's a cocky person, and will display a smile as often as he likes

he doesn't let stupid little gang troubles get to him, and will keep himself by the sidelines as long as he can before jumping into any situation

it's not recommendable to get on the wrong side of this guy. he will act as an ally, if you happen to be on the same side of the coin as he is, or show you no interest right before he makes a move that will undoubtedly leave you losing the game

he's stealthy, that's probably the most fitting word for him

now, to weave all of this into his interactions with a possible s/o, it's a complicated situation

he will express his liking towards you in an openly manner, in the sense that he will always praise you for any little thing you'd do, if you worked with him, or simply linger around you more than he'd do with others

but don't expect him to start confessing out of the blue

no, he will take his time

he doesn't need you to turn on him upon learning that he held a certain fondness towards you and use it against him, so he'd make sure you weren't involved with any sketchy outsiders first

this could take him months, so if you also happen to grow a feeling towards him, don't expect to get anything out of him other than the frequent compliments

when he eventually convinces himself that you pose no threat, he will, of course, approach you

not a single sense of nerves when he told you about it, and it would pay off when he received a mutual response

when the two of you establish the relationship, his attitude around you won't change much if you are around others

he will continue to hold his doubts surrounding certain members, so he wouldn't want to leave you open as a possible target for them to use against him

even less if you were a simple citizen, with no ties with the delinquent world

behind closed doors, this matter would change. sanzu's not an overly affectionate person, but if you happen to want a hug here and there, he will warm up enough for that

that's at the beginning of the relationship. you'll have to leave this guy some space before he starts approaching you for any sort of closeness

he loves you, that will be of certainty after all the deliberations he had had with himself before confessing

he was just always wary of himself in case he did or said something out of pocket and potentially scare you off

it's not always simple to drop the rigid act he'd put up all the time, so you'd have to slowly ease him out of it, reassuring him that you trusted him to not cause you any harm

when he's finally sure enough of himself, he will show a much more vulnerable side of him to you. of course

his cockiness will have always been there whenever you got together, but it will be a nice change to have a sleeping sanzu laying on you instead of the attentive toman member everyone else would see

you will be the one - though, he may not openly tell you the - that will slowly bring him out of his insecurities

the way you'd hold his face whenever you cooed at him would only give you a smile as response

but in reality, he felt over the moon to know that someone could ever look at him with such a loving gaze

it would make him realise just how much the wait had been worth it to be with you

expressing the same love to you will be an easier task as time goes on, and before you know it, you'd be greeted with a kiss on your forehead whenever he'd show up at your place

for every little thing he'd do with affection, know that he would be trying his best to be able to do so

he was still learning, but he was more than willing to put his elbows into it if it meant bringing that bright smile onto your face that he loved so much

Kazutora

the initial appearance of kazutora is that of a relatively serene person. he never has been one to stand tall like other delinquents, it just isn't how he is.

unfortunately, this would sometimes lead him to believe he was weaker than the others. whenever he's alone, his thoughts will almost drown him with such negativity, but it would all blow over once he was confronted by anyone

it's a tricky situation. on one hand, he doesn't really want to come off as a bulky, almost scary guy, like the eldest shiba sibling from the black dragons

but he figured if he did, then perhaps he wouldn't be so undervalued

he's got one hell of a past record that he carries on his shoulders, but he's far from eager to get over it

he knows the weight that his previous actions hold, and he wasn't going to run away from them in a cowardly manner

kazutora is someone that won't back down from anything, as much as that would throw him into unlucky situations

he also has a habit of feeling remorse towards those who most definitely don't deserve it

because, at the end of the day, he has a big heart

for better or for worse, and despite the countless times this has been used against him, he doesn't see him capable of showing true hatred; it would simply be a facade he'd put on to ensure he wasn't seen as weak

this is a key point to have in mind when he finds someone he holds a certain liking towards

unlike others that would try their best to not let themselves look vulnerable, he would actually approach you more often and try to get to know you better

the people around him would notice his increase of kindness whenever you were around, and they'd just let him go with it

he didn't want to come past as someone unapproachable, especially to the person who he had found an interest in

he will be the one to, eventually, confess

it would take him some self convincing to push himself and tell you, because he's afraid of rejection, in any situation

when you tell him that you feel the same way, this guy will be on cloud 9, and won't be able to hold back the enthusiastic smile on his face as he felt a rush of joy

he's really just in need of some love

know that most members will be aware that the two of you were now in a relationship

the way kazutora would never be far from your side will be a clear sign, and the occasional hand holding with be the cherry on top

when dating this sweetheart, know that you won't go without enough affection

hugs, kisses, pecks and wrapping his arms around you will just be some of the things he'll do, even in public

he loves being around you, so he'd make the most of it and intertwined his fingers with yours, even if he was talking with other members

he's shameless, really. and even less so when the two of you are alone

he will always slide you over into his arms if you were spending the afternoon on your couch or bed

and he just wouldn't move for a good hour, as much as you'd try to wriggle out from his hold

showering you with kisses even if you were working on something. he'd always be lingering nearby if he happened to catch you finishing up on some business

but, as much as he loves the feeling of holding you, it will also be of much comfort for him to know that you won't see him as weak or even unmanly when doing so

when he tells you about his insecurity, be sure you reassure him that he's far from a weak person

with time, he will start to believe more in this fact, with the help of your comforting words and caring touches

know that he will consider you a very important person in his life, and therefore, will be very cautious whenever it came to topics related to the gangs

since everyone knew about the two of you, he would always try and accompany you if ever you had to go out alone at night

aside from this, kazutora is someone who will be very calm whenever the two of you go out

on dates, for example, it won't even seem like your boyfriend was actually involved with delinquents

his smile will be so bright, and he would be himself around you, taking a rest from his usual persona around the members

truly, it's a wonderful sight to see him enjoy a regular life, and you'd always try and get him to spend time like this as often as he could

happy kazutora is by far the best kazutora

#tokyo revengers #tokyo manji revengers #tokyo revengers sanzu #tokyo revengers kazutora #kazutora hanemiya #tokyo revengers x reader #sanzu x reader #kazutora x reader #fluff

[biggest-stupidhead]

Never Ready

Summary: “It’s not like I’m ready to take her in.”

“And I was ready for you? Kid, nobody is ever ready for things like this. That doesn’t mean they don’t happen.” Levi is faced with the difficult decision of taking in his newly orphaned cousin. But he can't do it alone.You're a newly graduated college student looking to make some extra cash, but get more than you originally bargained for...

Word Count: 2.3K 

--

The day had started just like any other day. He woke up early and worked out before making himself a small breakfast of tea and an English muffin with some jam. Then he got dressed for work in one of his perfectly tailored suits. His routine was flawless, perfected over many years to allow him to seamlessly slip from one task into the next. He arrived one full hour before work actually began so that he could organize his desk and get a jump on the day’s cleaning. He liked working in a clean environment, if this step was missed (or really any of them for that matter), his entire day was thrown off. 

And today was one of those days. About four minutes before the office officially opened, Levi got a phone call. He had the phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder as he finished wiping down his desk with a clorox wipe. 

“We regretfully inform you that your cousin and his wife were involved in an armed robbery.” 

He froze at this, his eyes narrowing as the woman waited for his response. 

“What was stolen?” He asked before continuing to wipe down the surface. 

“Sir…” The woman spoke slowly and Levi began to lose his patience. 

“Listen, I appreciate the phone call but quite honestly I don’t have time for this.” He said bitterly as he disposed of the wipe. 

“This is very important sir, your cousin, and his wife were both murdered in the process.” The woman informed him and his blood ran cold. Although he had never been close with his extended family, the news was still tragic. 

“I see,” Levi grumbled as a boulder seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach. 

“I’m calling regarding their daughter, Mikasa. Seeing that Mr. Ackerman was an only child, as was Mrs. Ackerman, and their parents have passed, you and your uncle are her next of kin.” The woman continued as Levi sank into his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What do we need to do?” Levi sighed as he closed his eyes, waiting patiently for her response. 

“You have a few options, either of you could gain full parental rights to her, or she will become a ward of the state.” Some shuffling could be heard on her end of the line and Levi felt his heart rate spike. For a time in his own life, he had been thrown into the system, that was until his own uncle had gained custody after sobering up. 

“I understand,” Levi grumbled, watching as his coworkers set about their daily business as he was dealing with this unforeseen issue. 

“The decision doesn’t need to be made immediately of course. I strongly encourage that the two of you discuss this at length. The funeral is this Thursday, Mikasa and myself will be there and we can talk in greater depth then.” The sound of a keyboard clacking filled the short silence as he considered what an appropriate response would be. 

“I’ll...get back to you.” He leaned forward in his seat and clicked on his calendar, crossing out the lengthy list of tasks and replacing it with, FUNERAL. 

“Thank you, and sorry for your loss.” He hung up the phone and reclined back into his seat. This was quite possibly the biggest disruption he would ever face in his life. He hated that his cousin and his shitty wife had left this burden to rest on his shoulders. But upon further thought, his own mother had done the same thing to his uncle. You know what they say: history repeats itself. 

It seemed that as soon as he had set the phone down, it rang. His uncle’s contact lit up his screen and he let it ring three times before picking it up. 

“Did ya hear?” Kenny’s deep voice crackled over his speaker and Levi grunted. 

“Yeah, just got off of the phone with the social worker,” Levi informed him and Kenny hummed deeply. 

“What do you think?” He pressed and Levi felt his annoyance increase by tenfold. 

“I think that it’s a load of shit. And you?” Levi asked as he crossed his legs under his desk. 

“Same here.” Kenny agreed. 

“It’s not ideal, but we can’t let her go into foster care,” Kenny grumbled and Levi hummed his agreement. Kenny was right, even if she was distantly related, Mikasa was still a part of their family. 

“So are you going to take custody then?” Levi scoffed, knowing damn well that Kenny was pushing fifty and had a chronic case of bad arthritis. 

“Hell no, I’ve done my part by raising you.” Kenny laughed bitterly and Levi’s expression soured. 

“It’s not like I’m ready to take her in.” Levi countered and Kenny let out another bark of laughter. 

“And I was ready for you? Kid, nobody is ever ready for things like this. That doesn’t mean they don’t happen.” Kenny chuckled mirthfully as Levi shifted in his seat. He knew that Kenny was right, and he knew from the moment that the social worker had said that Mikasa needed someone, that it would be him taking her. 

“I’ll need to get a bigger place then.” Levi sighed his fingers rubbing tight circles over his temple as he thought of his bachelor-sized apartment. 

“Damn straight.” Kenny chuckled as Levi shot a look at the clock, it was nearly twenty minutes into the workday already. 

“Look, I’m at work. I’ll talk to you on Thursday at the funeral.” 

“See you then.” Kenny hung up and Levi let out a long exhale. His week was off to a terrible start. 

--

In movies, funerals are usually held in dreary weather. But today was almost too beautiful for a funeral. It was late January and the ground was covered in a thick blanket of sparkling snow. As the coffins were lowered into the two holes the social worker held Mikasa on her hip. She was only four, and there was no way that she could fully grasp what had happened. Levi stood with his hands shoved deep inside of his pockets. 

Kenny stood off to his left, a large distance between the two of them. There couldn’t have been more than seven people here, Levi assumed that they were friends of the family. The other attendees came up to him before and gave their condolences to Levi and Kenny, who both said nothing in return. The service was quick, Levi and Kenny had opted out of paying more than what the state offered. In Kenny’s own words, “Dead is dead, no fancy funeral is going to help them now.” 

To some, it may seem heartless, but it was the way that the family coped with death. Once the funeral was over, Kenny and Levi joined the service worker to get a cup of coffee in a nearby cafe. She had passed Mikasa off to a brunette woman before leaving the cemetery. Levi assumed that she was the foster woman that they had placed her with, or possibly a family friend. 

“So, I understand that you wish to gain custody?” Michelle was a middle-aged woman with graying hair and prominent wrinkles on her forehead. As she flipped through files that were spread across the table Levi nodded as he sipped his tea. 

“That’s correct,” Levi affirmed and she nodded before spinning the paperwork so that he could read the form. 

“I’m sure that you understand that this is no small commitment.” She spoke as she passed him a pen. He scoffed and began initialing and signing where necessary. 

“Of course,” Levi grunted before flipping the page. 

“Before you can gain full custody, the state will need to see some changes in your lifestyle, for starters, you’ll need to move within her current school district and continue to hold a steady job.” 

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Levi mumbled, pausing to read the paper before signing. 

“Excellent, once these needs are met, she can be placed under your care,” Michelle informed as Levi skimmed over the page. 

“Anything else?” Levi asked as he signed the last form presented to him. 

“Not at this time, I’m sure that you’re well versed in most of our policies, seeing that the two of you went through a similar process.” Michelle continued as she neatly returned the papers to their folder. 

“Yes.” Levi agreed as he brought his cup back to his lips. Kenny had been silent for most of the exchange. If Levi was being honest, he was relieved to have him there, even if he wasn’t contributing. 

“Great, we’ll be in touch then.” Michelle smiled tensely before excusing herself, leaving Kenny and Levi alone at the table. Kenny finished his coffee and stood up, stretching with a loud groan. 

“Well, I’m off to the office,” Kenny said with a short wave behind his shoulder. Levi watched him go, feeling a strange sense of dread settle into his gut. It all felt so surreal, even if he was thirty and most of his peers were already parents themselves, he still felt unprepared. It was just like Kenny had said, nothing could prepare him to take on this role. That didn’t mean that it wasn’t his to take, and he would be damned if he let Mikasa get thrown into the foster care system. 

Levi set to work on finding a house in the district that the social worker had given him. He had never been a fan of suburbs, but at this time it was all that he could afford. So he found a decent house with four bedrooms, one for himself, one for Mikasa one for guests, and a final for a study. He was lucky enough to have a decent job, and a respectable grasp on his finances, it took him a week to finalize the buy, but in the end, he was glad that he did. 

He had been meaning to get out of his stuffy apartment anyway, (or so he reasoned with himself), he moved his belongings out of his downtown apartment in less than a week. Once the house was effectively moved into, he then began the tedious process of preparing Mikasa’s things. He started by doing research on what four-year-olds needed and then set about buying the necessities. He felt out of place as he shopped through Target in the little girl’s section, buying bedding and such. But he got the job done, he knew that she had to have some clothes, and decided that he’d cross that bridge when he got there. 

It was the night before Michelle was scheduled to visit, and Levi had invited Hange over for a drink. Hange had nosed around for about an hour, acquainting herself with Levi’s new space and gushing when she saw the modest room that he had prepared for Mikasa. 

“I can’t believe that you’re actually going through with this!” Hange cooed as she sat on the small bed. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked defensively as he propped himself on the doorframe. Honestly, he had been avoiding this room, it felt that if he acknowledged the space, the heavier the weight of the situation crushed his chest. 

“I just...never thought that you liked kids. But I’m really proud of you.” Hange beamed as she smoothed out the pink comforter as she stood. 

“What made you think that I didn’t like kids?” He scoffed as the pair left the room, he closed the door quietly behind them as they made their way into the kitchen. 

“Oh I don’t know, maybe I just made the assumption based on your obsession with cleanliness.” Hange waved her hand dismissively and Levi clicked his tongue as he poured two glasses of wine. 

“They are filthy.” Levi agreed as he brought the glass of red wine to his lips. 

“What’s she like?” Hange asked, wrapping her own fingers around her glass as she eagerly awaited his response. 

“....I haven’t met her.” Levi felt a wave of panic crash over his chest as Hange’s eyes widened. 

“Never?” Hange couldn’t hide her astonishment. 

“Never,” Levi said with a roll of his eyes. 

“You’re serious?” Hange pressed and Levi glared at her. 

“Do I ever joke about these things?” Levi snapped and she held her hands up in defeat. 

“I’m just surprised is all,” Hange mumbled before taking a long sip of her wine. 

“I wasn’t close with her parents,” Levi explained as he put the cork back on the bottle. 

“Well...maybe you should take some extra time off of work,” Hange suggested and Levi sighed deeply. 

“I can’t, I’ve already taken off more than I planned.” Levi sat on the barstool next to Hange and she swiveled to face him, their knees knocking against each other. 

“But this is not something that you take lightly Levi. She’s a four-year-old girl who lost both of her parents. She’s going to need a lot of attention.” Hange looked concerned and Levi’s expression soured. 

“I understand that, but my job is-” 

“Is not your priority anymore. Have you thought about what you’re going to do for childcare yet? She’s too young for school. Or at least not full days.” Hange interrupted. 

“So I’ll put her in daycare, or preschool.” Levi shrugged and Hange pursed her lips. 

“That could work, but don’t you usually stay late at the office?” Hange pressed and Levi chewed on the inside of his cheek guiltily. 

“Maybe you should consider getting a nanny. Plenty of my student’s nanny, I could give you some good recommendations.” She offered before lifting her glass to her lips. 

“Maybe…” Levi suddenly felt way in over his head, if all went well in the morning, then Mikasa would be sent his way in nearly a week. 

“I’ll ask around on Monday,” Hange said, reaching out to pat his shoulder. For once, he didn’t shy away. 

#Levi fanfiction #LEVI ACKERMAN #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x you #levi is a dad #reader insert #levi x y/n #levi x reader insert #Levi x You #levi x reader #levi x nanny!reader #modern au #nanny au #aot fandom #aot x you #Mikasa Ackerman #Eren Mikasa Armin #eren jeager #armin arlert #Annie Leonhardt #reiner braun #connie springer #sasha braus #jean kirstein #Erwin Smith #hange zoe #hange zoe is a teacher #aot fanfiction #aot

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑂𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑀𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝐹𝑢𝑛 𝑂𝑓 𝐻𝑖𝑚 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝐵𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑆𝑜𝑓𝑡

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

✿*:･ﾟ𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰 ﾟ･:*✿

Hongjoong was startled by the sound of the door opening. He watched as you scurried over to his desk, boxes in your hand that you set down on the floor so you could clear off the papers in his desk.

"May I ask what are you doing?" He finally asked when you began placing the boxes on the desk.

"I need your help. It's of utmost importance."

Hongjoong stared in confusion as you began taking out various table decorations in all shades of pink. He pointed at them and looked to you for an explanation.

"It's my cousin's baby shower this weekend and I promised to make the table decorations, but I don't know which one to pick..."

You held up 2 different options for him to look at.

"So I need your opinion."

Hongjoong sighed softly and began pondering over his choices. Sure, they all looked pretty cute already, but he felt like they could be better. He took one of the decorations from your hand and began taking some things off.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" You screeched in horror.

"Relax and give me a moment." He looked inside the boxes and took out the fabric glue and scissors so he could modify it to his liking.

Now you understood what his plan was. You knew he loved to modify clothes, so of course he'd try to modify these ornaments. You decided to just watch him and see what he'd come up with.

You were both so engrossed in his task, you didn't notice Mingi had been standing by the door, trying to get Hongjoong's attention. He cleared his throat loudly, finally catching both of your attentions.

"If you grannies are done with your knitting and sewing, I have some papers for the boss here to see."

Mingi walked over and handed the stack of papers to Hongjoong. He snorted when he took in the sight of Hongjoong holding the glue and pink bows in his hand.

"What? You're telling me that'll cause more damage than a gun and bullets?" Mingi teased him.

Hongjoong threw the glue tube at Mingi, who only feigned to be hurt before walking out of the room, laughing his ass off and planning to tell the others.

You and Hongjoong looked at each other before laughing yourselves.

"Ok. Now back to our task."

✿*:･ﾟ𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪 ﾟ･:*✿

Seonghwa hated it whenever anyone would even so much as touch him. If one of the other guys merely brushed against him, he'd already be pulling out his mini lint roller to dust away imaginary dirt that got on his suit.

"Seriously? You're acting like I got the black plague or something." Wooyoung told him when Seonghwa took out a disinfecting wipe to wipe his hands after Wooyoung shook them.

"Worse. You got hoe germs."

When they heard rumors he was dating, they brushed them off as lies.

"No way. Man can't stand being around other people too closely." Yunho said.

"People can't stand being around him." Wooyoung never missed an opportunity to take a jab at Seonghwa.

"I feel bad for who ever does date him." Hongjoong shook his head.

But it turns out the rumors were indeed true, and not only did they find out about you, but they were even more shocked to see Seonghwa practically make out with you in his office. There were so many things going on that normal Seonghwa would have frowned upon.

"Well well well. What have we got here?" Hongjoong smirked at the 2 lovebirds.

Wooyoung let out a dramatic gasp.

"Seonghwa?! Letting someone sit on his desk? Whatever happened to 'don't touch my things?! You'll dirty them?' "

"Did he make you wash your hands before touching him?" Yeosang asked you curiously.

You simply blushed and looked to Seonghwa, wondering what was going on. Seonghwa pulled away from you to usher the boys out the room, threatening to throw bleach at them if they didn't stop. Locking the door, he went back to you and cupped your cheeks.

"Now....where were we my little honey bunch?" He leaned in to kiss you again.

"He even uses lovey dovey terms?!" Wooyoung's voice was heard from outside.

✿*:･ﾟ𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸 ﾟ･:*✿

Yunho proudly showed off the sonograms to the other guys.

"Look! You can already see her little hands forming."

The other guys had mixed reactions. While some like Seonghwa, San and Mingi were cooing along with him, Hongjoong, Yeosang and Jongho just awkwardly looked at each other, while Wooyoung was simply on his phone, not even paying attention.

"Need I remind you this was supposed to be an important meeting?" Hongjoong spoke up.

"Oh right! Sorry." Yunho quickly put away his phone and they all looked back at Hongjoong.

"Ok. As I was saying, they are to bring our shipment in on-"

He was interrupted once again by Yunho's phone ringing. Upon seeing it was you, Yunho immediately picked up.

"Hi love! How are you? How's my precious baby mama doing? Is our little dove doing ok?" He cooed into the phone.

Jongho and Yeosang began giggling, mimicking Yunho's love struck expressions and high pitched voice. Hongjoong was about to say something but Seonghwa interrupted.

"Say hi to Y/N for me!"

"Oh hold on! The boys wanna say hi!" Yunho put you on speaker.

"We do?" Wooyoung asked, finally looking up from his phone.

"Hi boys! How's it going?" You asked.

"Oh nothing much. Just witnessing how your husband turns into a baby when anything related about you and your bundle of joy is mentioned." Jongho said sarcastically.

Yunho pouted. " I do not."

"Oh really?"

Jongho turned to Yeosang and smiled like an idiot.

"Wanna see my baby's sonogram? Here let me show you!" Jongho made it a point to use his aegyo voice.

"Ooh! Y/N is getting rounder and chubbier and it's the cutest thing ever! She hates it but the pregnancy suits her well! I can't wait when I get her pregnant again." Yeosang played along adding the fakest laugh he could muster.

"Yes he can." Your voice reminded them that you were still there.

Yunho just blushed and giggled.

"You guys wouldn't understand! But one day you will."

✿*:･ﾟ𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰 ﾟ･:*✿

As one of the top snipers in the world, Yeosang had always had an image to uphold. He was rarely seen outside of work related events, he hardly talked and everyone swears he never smiles. His private life is practically classified as well, not even his best friend of 5 years could tell you if he has a family or not. To his friends, Yeosang is just cold and heartless.

"Guys.... is that who I think it is?"

San's voice had everyone looking at what he was pointing at. It took them all a minute to comprehend what they were looking at, but once they did, they were shook.

"It's Yeosang! And he's.....smiling?!" Mingi exclaimed, putting on his glasses to make sure he wasn't seeing things wrong.

"He's not just smiling, he's giggling!" Yunho added.

"And he has.......a girlfriend?!" Wooyoung was offended and hurt that he never knew about this information.

They all stood there, watching as Yeosang and you acted all loving towards each other. They couldn't believe The Kang Yeosang was capable of falling in love. The rest of the boys looked at each other and smirked. This was perfect.

Few days later, they cornered. Yeosang at work.

"What do you dumbasses want now?" He asked, his usual cold gaze on his features.

"We want to meet your girlfriend." San replied.

For a brief second, Yeosang's eyes betrayed him, expressing shock that they knew, but he quickly composed himself.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Yunho quickly took out his phone and presented their evidence in the form of pictures. Yeosang looked at them and gulped, finally realizing his secret was out. He stared at the floor in shock.

Yunho laid his head on Yeosang's shoulder and teased.

"Now unless you want them all over the internet, I suggest you let us meet her."

Yeosang pushed him off and sighed.

"Looks like I have no choice......"

The other guys cheered at the success of their blackmail. But it was a little too early for a celebration as Yeosang finished his sentence with:

"But to take you all out."

They all shut up and looked at him.

"Please say you're joking."

✿*:･ﾟ𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷 ﾟ･:*✿

"I told you guys I can't go, I already made plans."

San sighed as his friends wouldn't quit bothering him about going over to Seonghwa's house to get drunk.

"You liar!" Mingi exclaimed through the phone.

"That's rich coming from you. Now bye."

San hung up his phone and decided to turn it off so they wouldn't bother him. He then went back inside the kitchen, where you were already placing the first batch of cupcakes in the oven.

"Baby can you set a timer for 30 minutes?"

San grabbed the stop watch and promptly did as you asked. He then pulled you into a hug and just held you there.

"Don't tell me you're planning on doing this for 30 minutes." You giggled.

"Precisely my plan."

Meanwhile, the other guys were in Seonghwa's car, who was driving well above the speed limit to get to San's house. If he wouldn't come over to them, they'd come over to him.

"We're not letting him ditch us on dude's night." Mingi said.

They quickly went up to his apartment and rang the doorbell. 5 minutes passed though and no answer. They looked at each other for options before Jongho stepped up and kicked the door open.

Hearing the door slam, San and you got scared, thinking it was an intruder. San quickly pulled you behind him, ready to attack whoever came in.

"Surprise! We- AAAAH!" Wooyoung screamed, as he was hit with frosting that San squirted into his eyes.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" San asked as he helped Wooyoung regain his vision.

"We're doing guy's night out at your place!" Jongho said happily.

"What? No! I told you guys I had plans!" San repeated.

"Well........ here we were thinking you had mission plans.....but instead...it's baking plans." Hongjoong snorted as he looked at the half-decorated cupcakes on the kitchen island.

"I promised my baby we'd make cupcakes for her nephew's birthday party tomorrow." San explained as he went back next to you and wrapped his arm around you, looking at you with fluttering eyes.

"Wow.......you've gone soft Choi San." Seonghwa pointed out.

"What! No I have not!" San defended himself.

"You're softer than this cupcake. Delicious by the way." Yeosang popped up behind him, half a cupcake already in his mouth.

"Hey! That's not for you!"

✿*:･ﾟ𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲ﾟ･:*✿

It was all tension in the room. A recent mission had gone terribly wrong and what was supposed to be a calm discussion soon turned into a jabbing fest between the men.

"I told you all we shouldn't trust those Stray Kids, but nobody ever listens to me." Mingi huffed.

"Mingi, that's because the last time we listened to you, you cost us 1.5 million dollars!" Hongjoong reminded him.

"Meanwhile you almost costed us our lives today, not to mention about 200 of our best men. What kind of leadership is that?"

Soon Hongjoong and Mingi were up in each other's faces, each waiting for the other to throw the first punch so he can retaliate. The other guys hesitated between telling them to back off or let them blow off some steam.

"Please! We both know you don't have the guts to fight me. I will literally murder you with my bare fists! Don't think I won't hesitate to punch your little face into-"

A knock interrupted Mingi's threat to Hongjoong. He stormed over to the door, ready to shoot whoever dared to interrupt him. He briskly opened the door.

"The fuck you ass- Y/N! Baby, what are you doing here?"

His tone immediately went down once he realized it was only you. You smiled up at him and held out his holster for him.

"You left your gun back home. I was worried you wouldn't be able to defend yourself without it." You answered him.

Mingi blushed and took it from you.

"Awww baby, you really didn't have to. And besides, you know I don't like you carrying things like these. You might accidentally hurt yourself." He whined cutely at you.

The other guys were on the verge of laughing. It was always funny to see how quickly Mingi went soft and sweet for you.

"All right, I promise I won't do it again."

You held out your pinkie to him, which he linked with his own before holding your hand up to kiss it.

"I'll see you later. Love you sweetheart."

With a peck to your lips, he watched as you walked away, letting out a blissful sigh once you were out of sight.

"Ok Romeo, we get it. You're in love and it's gross. Can we get back to what we were saying before I break this table out of anger at this lovey dovey mush?" Jongho complained, groaning at the loving scene that just took place.

✿*:･ﾟ𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰 ﾟ･:*✿

"Hyung? Can you buy this for me?"

Jongho held out a bag of chips to Wooyoung, who just scoffed.

"We're in the middle of stalking someone and you're seriously asking me to buy you snacks?" Wooyoung couldn't believe the younger member.

"Hey. We need to look as normal as possible and it's a store! Come on! Buy them for me."

Jongho actually made puppy eyes at Wooyoung but to no avail, he wasn't budging for nothing.

"I'll pay you back later! I left my wallet in the car." Jongho was begging by now.

"No. I, Jung Wooyoung, don't buy anything for anyone but myself."

Just then his phone rang and he picked up.

"Hi pumpkin! How are you? Hmmm? No I'm not busy! Just here at the store with Jongho." He spoke into the phone.

Jongho rolled his eyes.

"Oh no! My little baby is feeling bad? We can't have that." Wooyoung pouted when he heard you were ailing.

Jongho raised his eyebrow at Wooyoung.

"Don't worry sweetheart. I'll get everything for you. See you soon. Bye love."

Jongho thought he was going to barf when Wooyoung actually made kissing noises into the phone.

"Ok, we need to get pads, tampons, ice cream and chocolate asap." Wooyoung declared as he began walking to the freezer aisle.

"What?! No way! How embarrassing!" Jongho crossed his arms in defiance.

"Come with me. That's an order." Wooyoung practically dragged Jongho, who just groaned and complained the entire time.

"Why are you like this Hyung? You weren't like this before. It's so ewww!" Jongho cringed.

"Because Jongho, this is what love does to you."

✿*:･ﾟ𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸 ﾟ･:*✿

You were currently cuddled up to Jongho. He had promised only 25 more minutes and he'd take you home, but it quickly turned into an hour and you were tired. You were sitting on his lap, your face hidden in his neck, arms clutching his shoulders as you drifted off to sleep.

Jongho kept one arm around you, the other busy filling out some paperwork. Sensing you were falling asleep, he began to sing softly to you, he knew you loved falling asleep to the sound of his voice. He continued to sing even after you completely fell asleep, smiling occasionally at how adorable you looked.

The door opened and Yunho came in. He was about to ask something, but Jongho held a finger to his lips, ushering him to stay quiet so he wouldn't wake you up. Yunho looked at you two in shock before smirking.

"Aren't you two the cutest things ever?" Yunho teasingly whispered.

Jongho rolled his eyes at him before handing him the papers he came for. Feeling him move, you slightly shifted. Scared of waking you up, Jongho quickly held you closer and began to sing again, happy that he got you to stay asleep.

Yunho clutched his heart and cooed faintly. He actually took out his phone to take a picture.

"So cute." He showed off the picture to Jongho.

Not amused, Jongho held his fist up to Yunho, silently threatening to break him if he didn't leave.

"Ok ok calm down lover boy. Have a good night." Yunho left you two alone.

After a minute or two, Jongho got up and began carrying you bridal style to the car. He had just gotten you in the passengers seat and he himself got on the driver's side when you whined softly and rubbed your eyes.

"Jongho?" You called out.

"It's all right baby. Go back to sleep." He whispered softly to you as he strapped you into the car, kissing your temple before turning the car on to go back home with you.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez mafia au #mafia!au #mafia!ateez #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

[sly-merlin]

okey dokey! I'm gonna be a father!

Requesting pregnant reader scenarios, wanna see more of the guys’ duality balancing domesticity and impending fatherhood, and running the world, ya know 🙏🏾😎🤔😀 Just throwing the idea out there since you said we could. Y’know things like ‘I’m trying to leave to set up a meeting but her back is sore & she wants ice cream so one of u needs to suddenly be available. now’ & other things ig. I imagined Ty Kun, John Jae or Kun in as leader & probably hc or jaemin as the wife-sitters (lol)

Since you didn’t specify the unit,I did this with the few members from hyung line. This got so long that I ran out of ideas so let me know if you want me to write for some other members.  though j incorporated your ideas but i based it on the concept of them managing the treats in both hands. This is my first time doing reactions so leave some feedback if you wish! Have a nice day everybody.

(7 members) Ft. Taeil, johnny, taeyong, yuta, ten, jaehyun + kun

TAEIL 

"Let me message you back!" Taeil whispered into the phone and raised his body to observe your sleeping form. Your head was securely resting on his arm and he let out a relieved sigh as it was one of the few Lucky days when you were not thrashing around in your sleep. Day after day, you were getting uncomfortable with your heavy belly and all he could ever do was keep you company in your frustrations. He couldn't risk waking you up so he tried his best to complete the task in the painful position. He fidgeted with the phone for it was impossible to handle a 6 inch of metal device with one hand. Struggling with the grip for a few more seconds, he finally managed to send johnny a message regarding the inquiry.

Ask tae He has ab eztra key 2 my ofice.

Maybe he should turn his autocorrect on for situations like this!

Thinking his work was done, he locked the phone. just when he was about to put it on the nightstand on a blind guess, it vibrated again! 

John: He is out! You need to come asap.

He stopped to watch out for any movement from your side and when there was none, he shifted to his phone again.

Nt my pblm. 

He couldn't understand why johnny was being so persistent when everyone was under strict orders to not call him after 10 p.m unless someone was dying!

John: Jungwoo is in trouble with police. I need his fake ID!

Taeil’s scoffed a bit too loudly causing you to stir.  He paused in his actions only to continue when he noticed your even breathing. Weighing the options, he concluded that Jungwoo must have forgotten to pay for the food again or something like that otherwise if it was work related then johnny would have been screaming at his door and not through the phone.

Not his 1st time. dw too much. Jst send him some food so he wont cry like last tym.

He deserved that much punishment! With that he switched the device off and wrapped his arm around your waist, returning to the warmth he got to experience only at night times.

JOHNNY

You were on edge since the day you got yourself tested. You could blame it on the suddenly changing hormones or the never present johnny but one thing was sure that you were missing him more than ever. Johnny on the other hand, avoided going back home for the sole reason of finding himself incapable of taking care of you and his dangerous job. That’s why he had assigned hendery to be at your beck and call. He was a medic and since the other medical emergencies could be handled by xiaojun and renjun, hendery had no problem in spending some time with you. His company was full of funny stories of other members and silly jokes. Despite his endless efforts to distract you, the thought that your daughter’s father was missing the growth of his own child always remained at the back of your head. You couldn’t understand how all of a sudden his workload had increased so much that he barely had any time to even see your face let alone talk to you for a few minutes. But all your worries vanished the day he returned and sarcastically ordered hendery to show his donkey self out of his house to never come back again.

“I managed to prepone some important weapon deals”, he bowed gracefully to acknowledge his own achievements, making you chuckle at him, “and I’ve been rewarded with three months of holidays so I shall be spending these months making up for the lost time and creating new memories” he completed, kissing your forehead.

"I never said I need you 24/7. A few hours at most would do John" you said, knowing how his absence would affect the black neos. 

"Yeah. But then I realised what if my baby girl mistakes hendery for her father. Can't let that happen now yeah!" 

Masked under jokes, you were very well aware of the real reasons behind the toil he had subjected himself to! It was all for you and your baby girl and you knew he would do it again and again even if it meant the end of his life!

TAEYONG

 From sharp cold deadly glare to the dragon tattoo that adorned his neck and arms, fellow criminals had every reason to fear this man. His name, in the underworld, screamed  cursed royalty. But that was Lee taeyong, leader of black neos.

The taeyong standing right in front of you, struggling with multiple boxes of boards was anything but scary. Cladded in baby blue hoodie and black boxers, he was reading the manual, knocking down the structure again and again as he repeatedly found something missing from it. 

"Leave it tae. I can complete this later on. Come and eat now." You whined and suggested while taking bites from the creamy pasta he had prepared earlier. 

"what do you mean i can complete this later on. Do you find me incapable of making a crib?"

Yes you did!

But that was not the answer you could give when he was clearly trying his hardest. It was indeed baffling as to why the man who could assemble a weapon with his left hand was unable to join the pieces of a crib with both!

"No tae. You were out for three days so maybe you are just too tired to concentrate!" You explained in the politest way possible that clearly didn't reach him properly. He let out an audible gasp at what felt for him to be the accusatory tone.

"Eat your pasta and watch me complete this in half an hour! You'd regret saying that to me!"

Why was he the one with mood swings?

Just like other bubbling thoughts, you gulped down this one too and nodded enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs up as if you would never doubt his capabilities.

But you knew, he might have started the task but he was surely not going to be the one to complete it!

YUTA

“How about sakura?” hyuck suggested. Looks of disapproval were exchanged across the room and sound of mark hitting hyuck’s arm resonated in the living room.

“Cliche!” jaehyun laughed.

“Yes. We aren't naming our daughter sakura and that is final. She’s one of a kind and her name should also be!” you announced your arrival in the room and sat on the floor, making yourself comfortable between yuta’s legs. He wrapped his arms around your belly before leaning his neck to greet you with a sweet cheek kiss.

“Yes. What y/n wants, y/n gets. No sakura!” he held his one hand up in the air, forbidding any further discussion on the name.

"That's not fair!" Hyuck whined only to be dismissed by a wave from you.

"Just because it's not hyuck's choice doesn't mean that you have got right to choose by yourself. The baby is a part of this family so we get to decide what's best for her!" Ten exclaimed loudly getting everyone’s attention.

“How about ayaka?” kun suggested, entering the room with a trolley full of snacks. As the recommendations poured in, the snacks were passed to everyone. Days like these were rare and from the past two months, these rare days were spent daydreaming about the very first child in the black neos house.

“Akira? It’s quite universal you know.” mark joined in, reading the meaning of the name in different cultures and languages.

“Haru”

“No kai!” 

Somewhere in the conversation, yuta’s hands had travelled from your tummy to your sides. He knew the little brushes of his fingers had started to work on you as you swatted his hand away with yours. It only encouraged him and he tickled you on your sides more and more, getting the desired reaction. Your body being more sensitive and responsive than usual, you wiggled in his arms and squealed loudly enough to get everyone’s attention. Suddenly his hands stopped as he heard a whiny shout.

“Why are you bugging her?” hyuck hollered, “can’t you sit still for once? Let her breathe for a freaking second. You wanna tickle! Tickle me. Come tickle me but Don’t bother her!” 

You were aware of hyuck’s sudden outbursts of protection for you but this was truly something new! And you new tickles were not the reasoning behind his irritation. Sakura was!

“Le-let’s play a game”, kun interrupted before haechan’s frustration would land him into some trouble with the elder, “we’ll write all the suggestions into paper and whichever y/n chooses would be final. How does it sound?” 

Everyone hummed along to the idea. Looking over at Hyuck, you noticed a sudden glint in his eyes that spoke trouble. He was clearly planning something evil and until it was all fun and games, you had no trouble for his intentions.

“Since when did you get a bodyguard hmm?” yuta whispered, planting another wet kiss on your right cheek. 

“Yua.” you said.

“What?”

“We are naming her yua! When are you gonna tell them that i’ve already decided!” leaning backwards, you said in a hushed voice meant only for his ears.

“When they are tired enough to play any more games. Till then, let’s have fun. Look at hyuck, he’s surely gonna cheat and mark and renjun are going to strangle him.” yuta chuckled against your ear, making you laugh again. Life was good!

TEN

“Xiaojun! Xiaojun! Show yourself you good for nothing potato!” you winced at the volume of ten’s voice. Even though he was outside the room, his vocals were irritating. But you held your tongue from scolding him as he was the only one you could rely on at the moment. 

“Xia-

“Did bella bite you again? why are you shouting at-” xiaojun squinted at the wall clock and adjusted his glasses, “at 5:30a.m?”

“Half of the world is up you hibernating bear! y/n is craving ice-cream. You know better than to refuse her so go to her. Your service starts right now.” 

Xiaojun scoffed and remained glued to the stairs. Ten raised a brow questioning him but instead of answering him xiaojun came up with one of his own.

“And why aren’t you going?” 

“Switchblade prince is called so I gotta go. I don’t think you want her to wait!.”

Xiaojun groaned when ten shot him a wink and left the living room. Of course he had no trouble in tending to your demands which as a medic, he understood very well but ten’s cockiness wasn’t something he was ever ready to handle.

“y/n! What does our prince wanted to eat this early in the morning?” he smiled at you, plopping down on the edge of the bed.

“Apples and bananas.” 

“I meant what ice cream flavour do you want?”

“Ice cream? Who said ice cream? I want bananas.” you answered him, confused at his confusion!

It was only then that xiaojun realised that switchblade prince was never called in the first place. Ten had fled. Due to fruits! He was contemplating as to what extent he should be manipulating ten’s words while telling you about his betrayal when you spoke up.

“Umm. i guess we can eat mint chocolate as well. I’ll eat a banana chocolate sandwich first then we can both watch a movie and finish the ice cream. What do you say?”

Ok!  Maybe revenge could wait. Ice cream would be a priority here! 

JAEHYUN

If your husband was cocky, you were seriously too many steps ahead of him and it has taken only 10 days for jaemin to realise that you were just jae's cup of tea and no one else's, at least not as a 4 months pregnant woman. 

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" Jaehyun laughed at jaemin sprawled on the floor like a toddler. 

"Noona screamed at me" jaemin mumbled, hiding his face in his neck.

"Oh jaemin! Why did she do it? Were you teasing her again. You know that she doesn't take sarcasm too we-

"No. She threw up the food i made for her and that too thrice since yesterday. I got angry so i told her to eat up or else i won't be making anymore for her. She threw the pillow at me and ordered me to never talk to her again! I mean it's not like i was showing real anger! She's hungry since yesterday. If she won't eat up then she'd be sick. What did I do wrong! Now I made her favourite pasta and she won't open the door for me."

Jaehyun sighed and crouched down to jaemin's level. He knew your emotions weren't in your control anymore but jaemin wasn't wrong either. He was just doing what was right for you and unintentionally, you had ended up hurting the poor boy. Jaehyun patted jaemin's hair before he told him to inform taeyong about his possible absence from the upcoming meetings and activities.

"You can't do that." Jaemin said the obvious.

"Do you want her to eat or not!" Jaemin frantically nodded at him before running off to the main office.

Heating up the pasta, jaehyun made his way to your shared bedroom in black neos. 

"Baby open up it's me!" He knocked at the door and hearing his voice,you immediately opened it. 

"You are here!" You exclaimed, feeling beads of moisture in the corner of your eyes.

"Aww. Now is not the time to cry." He cooed, entering the room with the tray. Placing it on the coffee table, he turned around and hugged you just the way he missed you.

"I'm sorry for being occupied and only coming back at night. But I'm here for a few days so let's get you all happy like a seal!" He laughed, ruffling your hair.

"I-i yelled at jaemin for no reason." You confessed not being aware that he was already filled in by the younger boy. 

"You wanna apologize?" You nodded as he squished your cheeks in his hands and leaned in to kiss your pouty lips. 

"Later on! Now's the time for evening lunch and getting this food in your tummy without it backfiring!" 

You laughed at how smoothly he eased your worries. After eating properly, you apologised to jaemin which he accepted but not before crying like a little boy he was!

Bonus :

KUN

"Yangyang what the heck are you doing near y/n. I told you to keep your meaningless books away from her!" Kun felt like his blood pressure would shot up anytime soon.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh really? What's the book that you are reading to her?"

"How to walk like a pro when you are only 2 months old! I want the baby to be high class like me."

Kun's hands found refuge in his hair as he groaned at the boy. Now he needed to read all the books that could possibly reverse yangyang's teachings.

"There is no such book available."

"Yeah that's why i wrote it by myself. Pulled an all nighter but when the baby would start walking at only 2 months of age, you'd thank me!"

#neowritingsnet #nct-writers #kafenetwork #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct reactions #nct 127 reactions #wayv reactions #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #nct fluff #nct angst #nct father au #jaehyun scenarios #nct mafia #nct mafia reactions #wayv mafia #nct x reader #nct dream reactions

[hotchscvm]

love me, hate me - part two

Warnings: explicit sexual content, swearing

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Christmas comes around and Ransom wants you more than ever.

part one

"You're telling me you actually want to date this guy? The one who can't even make you cum?" you asked, licking the remaining frosting from your finger. You placed the messy bowl in the sink, watching your best friend trying—and failing—to get the egg shells out of the mixture.

Meg gave up, dumping the brownie batter down the sink with the water running, fed up with the shells. "Yeah, but sex isn't everything, you know. I don't know—it's just this guy isn't like my exes. He genuinely cares about my feelings, and doesn't control me. Besides, he made me cum a few times. He's nice."

With Mariah Carey's Christmas music playing in the background, the miniature Christmas tree on the table, and the snow falling, the Thrombey household felt festive. Although, the people bundled up and arguing in the next room—not so much. Yet, neither of you cared while you continued to work, helping Martha out, on the desserts. It wasn't going as well as planned, but you took it as a positive considering you hadn't started a fire. Yet.

"Ah, yes, nice. Can't relate. I'm currently attracted to assholes who have anger issues." you commented, passing Meg the flour once again. Your creation was in the oven, and all you hoped was that no one got food poisoning because of it. Even you couldn't live with the guilt of Ransom, or his touchy father, throwing up Christmas morning.

"Currently?" Meg asked, raising an eyebrow, getting eggs out of the fridge for the hundredth time. She glanced at the direction of the door, the sound of it opening drawing both of your attention. "I'm pretty sure your daddy issues didn't just happen recently. Speaking of which, you may be the main reason Ransom decided to come back for Christmas instead chasing a model around."

You rolled your eyes, sitting back in your chair while contemplating whether or not it's too late to ditch. While Ransom was hot, his spoiled attitude wasn't worth tolerating for a quick fuck. With sarcasm dripping, you sighed. "Oh, how wonderful. 'Cause, that's exactly what I need right now."

Meg chuckled, focusing on the task at hand, trying not get shells in the mixture again. She had held off on mixing the dry stuff, much to your dismay, but to her it made sense to get the hard part out of the way so it wouldn't fuck everything up. Your best friend had just finished cracking her last egg when Harlan walked into the kitchen, Ransom trailing a few feet behind him. The playboy's eyes immediately landed on you, yet you didn't meet his, too preoccupied with the phone in your hands.

Harlan's slight frown lifted into a smile, surveying how messy the kitchen had gotten. "My, my, I wasn't aware a cake had exploded in my kitchen."

Looking up, you grinned at the old man, the smile reaching your eyes until you saw who was behind him. Ignoring Ransom, you giggled at Harlan's remark. "You call it a mess, we call it baking."

"As long as you ladies are having fun." Harlan replied, patting your shoulder before heading off towards his office, too tired to deal with his dysfunctional family at the moment.

Ransom lingered, walking up to you, a smirk impended on his face. Yet, you refocused you're attention back on your phone while Meg left the room, her apron still attached to her. You didn't question her sudden disappearance, knowing she was just as annoyed at Ransom's presence. The man in question peeked over you shoulder to see your screen showing off another man's dick, the words right below it explicit.

His jaw clenched in jealousy. Much to his chagrin, the man's dick was just as big as his own. But, he kept the icy exterior up. "Would it be offensive to ask whether or not your baking will make me sick this evening?"

You scoffed without looking up, tapping out of the dick pic your previous hook up had sent. "Since when do you care if you're offensive or not? Who are you, and what have you done to Ransom Drysdale?"

Ransom shrugged, leaning against the kitchen island while facing your annoyed expression. His smug behavior got under your skin, and the bastard was well aware. "Maybe all this Christmas spirit got into me. Or maybe I'm trying to be nice."

You raised an eyebrow, getting off your chair, rushing to the window, pretending to be looking for something. After a few seconds, Ransom's curiosity got the best of him and he joined you, looking for anything unusual outside. The snow-covered land showed nothing out of the ordinary, furthering Ransom's confusion.

"What are you looking at? I can't see anything." he said, squinting at the general direction you had look at.

Shrugging, you moved back to your seat, propping your elbows on the back of the chair, allowing a smug smirk lift your lips. "I thought pigs were flying. Ransom Drysdale isn't capable of being nice, yet alone say the word. I'm shocked hell hadn't freeze over. Yet."

The playboy rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he took your body in, wrapped in his favorite color, the dress hugging your curves. "What's a guy have to do to be taken seriously with you? You and I both know I can give you everything you want, and more."

"Are you trying to buy me right now?" you asked, half teasing, half annoyed. Ransom could not take a hint, and you hated the fact that he didn't back off despite the sarcasm and insults you threw his way.

"I'm trying to be nice but you're making it really hard." Ransom answered, his cockiness wearing off. He was growing frustrated the more you looked at him like he was a piece of trash. All you wanted him to be was nice, now that he was trying to be, you wouldn't believe his intentions, despite wanting to prove it to you.

Pursing your lips, you tapped your finger against the table, the acrylic nail making a clicking noise. "You wanna prove it? Fine. You've got til midnight tonight. If you're unable to change my mind, you have to buy me my spring break vacation, all the fees and expenses."

"And if I do change your mind..." Ransom smirked, brushing a stray hair behind your ear, earning a half-hearted glare. "... you have to go on a date with me."

Ransom nearly burst out laughing from your shocked expression, the genuine look of surprised slapped on your face with the words. You shut your hanging jaw, still not processing what he was saying. "Excuse me?"

"You have to go on a date with me if I convince you that I'm willing to change my, and I quote, 'bratty and douchebag ways.' An actual date where we sit down, eat dinner, talk about our feelings, and get drunk. Whatever happens, happens." Ransom purred, placing a finger on your bottom lip. You slapped his hand away, and his smirked grew. "Are you going to back out of this already, princess?"

It was your stubborn side that made agree, pressing your lips into a thin line, you grabbed Ransom's hand, shaking it. He raised an eyebrow while you sighed. "You're on. Hope you have enough money to pay for a lengthy trip. I plan on drinking every bottle of wine in Italy."

Despite your baking debacle, you left the kitchen, leaving Meg's monstrous creation on the counter along with Ransom. You went into the living room, trying to find the girl in question when you happened to stumble upon Richard. He barely got to say a word before you turned around, and left the pervert behind. It was always a puzzle how Ransom turned out so hot with Richard and Linda as parents.

Climbing the stairs, you heard the family arguing growing quieter with each step. The second floor was almost a safe haven considering Harlan didn't let anyone raise their voice in the upper level, making it the only quiet place in the house, safe from any Thrombey fights. It was a wonder how the family hadn't murdered each other yet; it was only a matter of time.

Unable to find Meg in your shared room, you sighed, patting your body to find your phone only to realize you left it in the kitchen. With Ransom.

"Looking for this?" Ransom held out your phone, coming up behind you. His usual smirk was gone, a small, genuine smile in its place. It made him look less arrogant.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

You took your phone back, half expecting him to take it back just as you wrapped your fingers around it. But he didn't. You realized he was pulling out all the stops, all the little things that you found annoying was gone. He was acting. Eyes narrowing, you unlocked your phone, studying him. "Thanks. I think."

"Meg is helping the Brazilian maid." Ransom answered your silent question. Your thumb hovered her contact, going back to the home screen. Your eyebrows had risen by his mis-categorization of Martha's race and employment. "Pretty sure they went to the grocery store or something."

"Oh, okay." you replied lamely, putting your phone in your back pocket, the tight jeans making it nearly impossible. Opening the door to your room, you stepped in, not giving Ransom another look. But he followed inside, making you turn around. "Do you need something?"

Ransom stuffed his hands in his pockets, the cream-colored sweater shifting with the gesture. "You didn't exactly give me much time to prove myself. And looking around, we're all alone. I can't think of a better time."

As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. The bet was a bit unfair considering how stubborn you were, and the amount of time he had to convince you. But it was a bit unsettling seeing Ransom try so hard, let alone being nice. You nodded, agreeing. "Fine, but can I change first? I'd rather not be covered in flour while you try to seduce me."

"You and I both know I wouldn't seduce you before dinner. There's no way in hell I'd treat you like the others." he mumbled to himself, but you heard it. Clearing his throat, he stepped out of the room. "Yeah, I'll be outside. Waiting. Take your time."

As soon as the door closed, you looked around the room to check if you were being pranked, expecting Ashton Kutcher to burst out of the closet along with a bunch of cameramen. After a few seconds, you came to the conclusion that Supernatural was in this universe, deciding "Ransom" was a shapeshifter or a demon possessed him. It was the only reasonable explanation.

Reaching for the hem of your top, pulling it off in one swift move, dropping it on the bed. Your jeans piling on top, allowing your legs to breathe. Despite Joni's hippie side, she had let Meg sneak in a few joints, the smell becoming stronger as you neared both your suitcases. You didn't think Harlan would be too please to have weed in his house, no matter how lenient he is.

You took your time, a little baffled by what to wear. Ransom hadn't exactly given you an agenda on his plans, leaving you to grab a clean pair of black jeans, and a classy, yet simple, red top. You looked decent enough to fit in a nice restaurant, but casual in case Ransom decided he wanted McDonald's, and most importantly: warm. If he wanted to take you to the North Pole, then he'd have to give you his cozy-looking sweater.

You opened the door, the sight of Ransom rocking on his heels greeting you. His back was to you, his hands inside his pockets as he looked out the window, frost crawling along the edges. It genuinely concerned you how much this man was acting; if you didn't know better, you'd think it was real.

Clearing your throat, you watched him jump in surprise, quickly turning to you. Raising an eyebrow, you tucked your phone in your pocket, meeting his warm, blue eyes. "I'm ready."

"Okay." said Ransom, motioning for you to follow him. You walked down the stairs without a word, the air becoming thick as you walked behind him. The sweater did little to no good disguising his broad shoulders, the muscles somehow still visible under the clothing.

As soon as you reached the bottom, you glanced around, the Thrombey fighting becoming louder with each second. It wouldn't be long before one of them stormed out of the room, muttering a curse under their breath. You'd seen all of them do it at least once. You crossed your arms, wary of whatever Ransom was planning. "Be honest, you're not just going to drive me off to the middle of the woods and murder me, are you?"

Ransom chuckled, giving you a wink as he held his hand out. Without hesitation, you took it. "If I was planning to murder you, I wouldn't do it in the woods. If you're going to die, it's going to be epic."

"Oh, well, that makes me feel better." you sneered sarcastically, instantly rolling your eyes. In the back of your mind, you pondered how long it would take for your eyes to get stuck in your brain with the amount of times you rolled them at Ransom.

He led you towards the door, smirking. "You ready?"

"No. Let's go."

—

"Fuck, baby."

He spent a few moments just staring at your spread pussy, amazed and aching for you more than he ever ached for anything.

"Don't you know why I want you to see it, Ransom?"

Ransom just shook his head without taking his eyes off the your pneumatic body.

"Because it's yours," you sighed. "All yours, baby. You're the one I've been keeping it nice and fresh for."

"Fuck," he muttered.

He kept staring at you, waiting for you to rub you pussy again, but you didn't. You just kept holding it spread.

"Don't you wanna taste me, Ransom?" you purred, barely above a whisper. "C'mon, baby, please. I want you to lick it so bad. I love you so much and I want to give you everything that belongs to you."

The playboy was all but paralyzed by your words. He finally dragged his eyes off your open pussy and looked at your face. You were staring back at him with a glazed look in your eyes. His solid cock was pulsing hard in the tight grip of his fist. No girl had ever looked at him the way you were at that very moment, yet at the same time, he knew you were playing with the hottest kind of fire there was.

"Sweetheart, you know this wasn't the deal." he whispered, distracted.

You smirked. "But you still won."

He finished the thought by leaning down and sliding his tongue up and over your generously offered pussy. You pulled in a sharp gasp when Ransom's tongue lit up your heavily tingling pussy. Your hips rolled instantly in response, your gasps turning to moans while Ransom eagerly slathered his tongue all around your creamily delicious slit. He soon focused his attention on your clit and slipped a finger up inside your hole at the same time.

The man's finger curled and twisted inside you, searching for you g spot while he suckled and lapped at your fully swollen clit. You could barely form words as you gasped and moaned, your luscious body now writhing with desire.

Your pussy oozed heavily the more he licked and fingered you. Your cream was sweet, tangy and intensely intoxicating. Ransom probed at your hole with his finger and the tip of his tongue at the same time, but he soon drew his soaking wet finger out of your hole and wedged it between your ass cheeks, searching for your puckered rimhole.

You gasped deeply and lifted your legs up higher, giving Ransom better access to your asshole. He massaged your tight bud with his honey-coated finger and made deep, hungry love to your pussy with his mouth.

"God god god god, Ransom!" you cried, your hips rolling harder and harder against the man's mouth and finger.

Your body went tense for a few moments and then relaxed. Ransom backed off and watched you languish after your orgasm, pausing briefly to catch your breath. Then you shifted your body and took the hem of your outfit into your hands and peeled it off over your head. Ransom pulled off his T shirt and slid over on top of your luscious body, grinding his rock-hard cock against your pussy as he lowered himself to kiss you.

You whimpered while Ransom's chest mashed down against your heavy, naked tits. They felt amazing against his body, and he was beyond reason when the your mouth opened and set your tongue into motion against his.

Ransom had never kissed any girl so hard or hungrily in his life. Nor had any kissed him back the way you had. At the same time, you were grinding your slick, wet pussy against his cock as hard as he was grinding against you. Then he squeezed his hands in between them and grasped at your tits, kneading them eagerly with his strong hands.

He released your mouth and said," Baby girl, reach down there and put my cock inside you for me. I need that pussy bad, but I can't bring myself to let go of these fantastic tits now that I finally have my hands on them."

You giggled happily and kissed him again while you worked your hands down between your naked bodies. Finally, you got one hand on your pussy and spreading yourself open while you wrapped the other around Ransom's thick cock.

"Oh geezus, fuck, Ransom, you're so fucking hard," you cooed. "Oh god fuck me deep."

You tucked Ransom's cock head into your wet maw and he began grinding his shaft deeper into your sheath. Your pussy felt so tight and creamy, and you both groaned as his rock-hard flesh gradually filled your body. You looked at each other in disbelief, even though nothing had ever felt more right or natural.

Ransom growled as he began to pump his cock in and out of your spectacular body with long strokes. His grip on your tits went tighter and he lowered his head to suck and lick on your swollen nipples.

You whimpered with pleasure, wrapping your legs around his hips and grinding your pussy hard against his thrusting cock. It wasn't long before he was straining to hold on and keep fucking you deep and hard. You didn't make it any easier because of the way you were moaning and your cunt squeezed his pounding cock every time you came.

Finally, Ransom raised himself up on his hands while he pumped your succulent pussy hole as hard and fast as he could, watching your pretty face twist with pleasure while your tits heaved with the force of his lunging body.

"Gimme your cum, baby. I want it in me...fuck!"

With a final, frenzied volley of full body thrusts, Ransom's pulsing cock exploded in your pussy, filling you with a hot flow of jetting spunk.

After, they spent a long time kissing while Ransom caressed the your beautiful tits. He kept his cock buried inside you until his flesh finally started to relax.

You fell asleep in each other's arms, and Ransom knew he had the girl he always needed right there with him. He had been right, all the sarcastic comments and stupid fights had been worth it.

In the morning, Ransom awoke from a haze of dreams to look down and find you lying between his legs with your lips sliding up and down his swollen cock. When you realized he was awake and watching you, you released his big cock from your mouth, giving his shaft a long lick before greeting him.

"Merry Christmas, Ransom."

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #reader insert #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #knives out #chris evans imagines #ransom drysdale imagine

[interstellarflare]

Bend and Break || Homelander

-PART FIVE-

Warnings: Gore, violence, course language, angst.

Summary: People can only bend their morales so far before they break. Homelander is the world’s greatest superhero, and you, a tech analyst, somehow become entangled in his world when he learns that you provide intel to The Boys. He makes it his personal mission to find out exactly what you know, but he never expected such resistance from someone as damaged as you. But broken things can be mended, sometimes in the most unexpected ways possible.

Author’s Note: As a bit of a disclaimer, I have only seen snippets of The Boys. I haven’t actually watched all of it, so forgive me if there are some details that are wrong, as well as the many spelling errors that will undoubtedly be in this series. There is a tag list open for those who wish to be added. I apologise for the long chapters. Gif by @theseymourbirkhoff

|PART ONE| |PART TWO| |PART THREE| |PART FOUR|

“We’ve been at this for hours, and you still haven’t managed to break into Vought’s servers”.

“Well by all means, you are more than welcome to try and hack through dozens of impenetrable firewalls yourself...” You replied, bitterly, running your tongue over your bottom lip “or would you rather that I get through them undetected?’.

The two of you had been arguing for hours and hours, neither if you coming up with a solution. Max sat beside Noir on the couch, the two of them exchanging wordless and annoyed glances in relation to your constant bickering. Homelander groaned, rolling his eyes as his head fell back against the back of the armchair. “There has to be something you can do” He whined, folding his arms over his chest as he began to pout. You glared at the Supe before breathing deeply. There was no point in yelling and screaming at each other. You figured that the leader of The Seven was just as stressed as you were. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you grimaced as your headache began to worsen. “Maybe you’re right, there has to be something else I can do”.

You sighed heavily, trying to come up with a way to retrieve the intel you so desperately needed. You stood up from you seat at the dining table, stretching your legs as you paced about the living room. You bit your lip in deep thought, ignoring Homelander’s ever-watchful gaze as his eyes followed you about. You were completely stumped, clueless as to what to do. Then Homelander laughed. It wasn’t a laugh of amusement, oh no. It was a mocking laugh, one that made the Supe smirk evilly. A shiver ran down your spine, the hairs on your arms standing on end as you turned to face him. “What?” you asked slowly, not liking the way Homelander’s expression changed to a shit-eating grin. “If I’m correct...” he began, standing up from the couch with a small groan “it’s easier to obtain the intel we want from inside the building, right? It just so happens that Vought is holding a Gala to unveil a new...something, I wasn’t really paying attention to what. But the Gala is tomorrow night”. You nodded along to his words, taking in what he said without really listening. Then you caught his suggestive stare, and you froze. A Gala at Vought International...a Gala!?

“Oh no, fuck no!” You shouted, pointing accusingly towards the man in front of you “I’m not going to a stupid fucking Gala. Have you seen my closet? There is not one expensive thing in there!”

“Y/n, come on now...” Homelander cooed gently, recoiling sharply as you swatted his hands away “we need to work together on this-” “And when I get caught, what happens then? That is a stupid idea, we’re not doing it”. The room fell into a deadly silence as both you and Homelander stared each other down, neither of you wavering. But when Homelander’s serious glare suddenly contorted into a teasing smile, your eyes widened in horror. “The Gala starts at seven tomorrow night. I’ll send a car to pick you up at six”. Before you could process what had actually been said, Homelander bolted for the open window before you even had time to retrieve a plush black cushion from the couch. You chased after him, throwing the cushion out of the window and towards the Supe’s retreating form. You missed horribly, of course, as the cushion bounced into the overgrown vacant lot next door. “You’ve given me very little time to find a dress!” You shouted angrily, your knuckles turning white as your hands clenched the windowsill in fury. Homelander laughed obnoxiously, no doubt thankful for the safe distance between you as he replied “I’ll take care of that, don’t worry your pretty little head about anything”.

Gritting your teeth in frustration, with an annoyed growl escaping your lips, you slammed the window shut to hide the growing blush on your cheeks. Taking a long and exasperated breath, you turned around to face Max and Noir, your eyes widening slightly as you shamefully realised that you had forgotten that they were even there. “He still doesn’t know about about the accident, does he?” Max questioned, his eyebrow rising in emphasis. When you nodded your head slowly, Max scoffed. “He will never find out. Understood?”. Your nephew grumbled. Noir, confused and unsure how to respond, merely shrugged awkwardly.

You groaned loudly, storming into your room and slamming the door harshly.

When the dress arrived early the next morning, accompanied by a box of expensive high heels, you tossed both boxes onto the bed and refused to look at them. You didn’t want to know what horrific thing Homelander had chosen for you. You didn’t have the nerve to even enter your room until three in the afternoon.

The curiosity of knowing had been eating away at you for hours now, the nerves in your chest growing as you finally gave in. With two hours left until you were whisked away to the worst night of your life, you hesitantly entered your room and begrudgingly opened the box containing the dress.

The dress was beautiful.

You marvelled at the beaded lace bodice, running your fingers gently across the fabric fearing that it might tear at the slightest increase of pressure. The dress itself was a deep royal blue, a fraction off the same colour as Homelander’s suit you realised with an amused roll of your eyes. It was the prettiest thing you owned, by far. And the shoes, a spectacular glittering silver that matched your dress perfectly. You were left in awe. But the question now was, would they fit?

You ignored all of the negative thoughts as you entered your bathroom, beginning the tedious task of applying your make-up. You didn’t want it too heavy, but light enough so that you were bold and noticeable, but just another face in the crowd. You had to apply enough make-up to completely cover your dark circles, which had become prominent due to your prolonged experiment creating a device that would hack into Vought’s servers all last night. You chose a light smokey eye and bold deep red lips, a deep crimson, almost burgundy. Perhaps a little darker. You allowed your hair to fall in loose natural waves, to complete the look, leaving you with a few minutes to spare to put on the dress.

You felt sick to your stomach as you slipped through the gown over your form, not liking the way the fabric stretched and tugged. The shoes fit no problem, then you moved to the bathroom to see the final product...and your mouth fell open in a stunned gasp.

You looked absolutely gorgeous.

The dress fit perfectly, hugging all the right curves and all the right places. You hadn’t realised how revealing the dress actually was, entirely backless with the base of the lace bodice stopping at your lower back. It left you completely exposed. But you felt powerful, you felt incredible. 

There was a loud knock at your door, and you released a string of unladylike curses as you realised that the time was now six. Stuffing your newly invented device, disguised as a pager, into a black clutch before walking out into the hallway of the building, locking the door to your apartment behind you. You were met by a man in an expensive-looking tux, who motioned for you to quietly follow. The elevator seemed to move agonisingly slow as you couldn’t wait to reach the lobby floor.

The man led you out to an awaiting limousine, opening the door for you as you stood on the curb completely dumbfounded. ‘He’s really pulling out all the stops, isn’t he?’ you thought to yourself, nodding your thanks to the man as you clambered inside the limousine. Sooner than you thought, the limousine pulled away from the curb, and you were on your way. Your stomach backflipped with butterflies, and your palms became sweaty as countless thoughts raced through your mind. What if everything wen wrong? What if your little device couldn’t break into the servers? What if...this was a trap?

You were so consumed by your confusing thoughts, that you hadn’t realised that you had arrived at your destination. The door to your left flew open, allowing a chorus of excited cheers to flood the interior of the limousine. Your eyes widened as your (eye/colour) hues landed on the luxurious red carpet leading up to a horrific staircase that belonged to the architectural wonder that was the Town hall, lit up in the colours of red, white, and blue, with banners of The Seven illuminated by individual floodlights. For a brief second, you hesitated on staying the car. Away from prying eyes. But you forced yourself to move, out into the open, where you found yourself shying away from the flashing lights of photographers and the microphones of journalists.

You weaved your way through the crowd of famous celebrities, politicians and high-end government officials, smiling an awkward greeting if your if your gaze met their own. you had just reached the middle landing when you heard them, the ecstatic shouts of ‘there he is’ and ‘Homelander’ taking the crowd by storm. You turned, careful not to step on your dress as your gaze followed that of the crowd.

And there he was. The Homelander, The World’s Greatest Hero, descending from the sky and onto the red carpet below. The crowd loved him, they cheered for him. They loved him. A sad smile formed on your lips as you watched him indulge the crowd with glorious waves and Hollywood smiles, stopping to give the occasional  interview with the odd reporter here and there.

Whilst in the middle of talking to a blonde bombshell of a reporter, her hair a stark contrast to the blood red dress she wore, her lips a little too red for his liking, Homelander’s eyes wandered over the a-listers gathered here tonight...until his gaze met your own. He stopped short, his words catching in his throat as he stared up at you, two flights above him in dumbfounded awe.

You were breathtaking.

To him, you stood out amongst the crowd, and not just because you looked slightly out of place. You outshone many of the women here tonight, highlighted by the numerous flashes of cameras left right and centre. The dress complimented your figure well, and he felt his chest tighten in a rush of unfamiliar emotion. Not bothering to excuse himself from the infatuated reported beside him, Homelander scaled the next two flights to stop on the landing in front of you.

All eyes were on the two of you now, and you could feel them burning holes in your gorgeous dress. You swallowed thickly, timidly casting your gaze to the carpet below as you spoke teasingly “That was quite an entrance”. Homelander’s smile was genuine as he stared down at you brightly. “Anything for you...” he spoke quietly, quiet enough so only you could hear “shall we?”. With your heart leaping into your throat and a bright blush covering your cheeks, you nodded. Homelander ushered you up the remaining stairs, his hand resting on your lower back as he guided you through the crowd and inside.

“Town Hall? Bit of a weird place to hack Vought International from” You spoke lazily, to which Homelander laughed. “There is a direct line to HQ from here. It would be easier for you to get through here than there”.

You laughed bitterly, finding slight amusement in the situation. “Why am I not surprised?”.

Tag List: @lauraaan182​ @tardis-23 @freshmakertaco @shilsvampsinger @cynthianokamaria  @delicatetimetravelarcade @coloursunlimited @clean-soap @themarch-oftheblackqueen @soft-hargreeves @kennedywxlsh​

#homelander x reader #homelander #homelander imagine #the boys x reader #the boys #the boys imagine #antony starr

[helaintoloki]

Old Times

pairing: Five Hargreeves x reader

warnings: language, mentions of violence and some graphic imagery

request: Can I request a scene where Five kills the commission's board members but with the reader

The sleeves of your dress are beginning to itch and your inability to spot Five is beginning to agitate you. You didn’t come all this way just for him to start the festivities without you, and you certainly weren’t going to let this outfit go to waste no matter how irritating it was and how awkward you felt dressed up like some old lady’s little doll- an old lady had dressed you, of course, but no one needs to know that.

“Fuckin’ Fudge Nutter!” A familiar irascible voice seethes from down one of the hallways, and it’s then that you’re able to witness Five’s unhinged assault on the vending machine. Part of you wants to stop him before he can make a mess, but the other part of you knows that he’s had a rough couple of weeks. After all, you would think being able to get a stupid snack from a vending machine would be painfully easy compared to all the other shit he’s been tasked with these last few weeks, so you understand why such a feat would seat him off. Besides, by the time you do decide to speak up his foot has already smashed through the glass.

“Having fun?” You muse, startling the boy with your sudden presence. He opens his mouth to snark back but closes it once he notices your ensemble. The anger and irritation present in his features are soon replaced with a snide, smug grin.

“Well if it isn’t the milkmaid.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” you retort sarcastically. “I went to go use the bathroom and the next thing I know I’m being shoved into this. But I guess this wont be the first time I’ve gotten blood on a perfectly good dress.”

“You ready?” Five asks as his eyes begin to scan the hallway for anything that may prove of use for your assignment. Your nose scrunches in disgust as his finger dips into the frosting of the cake sitting on the table, but the act allows you to spot the very elegant and very sharp cake knife sitting beside it. The handle is glass with a red bow neatly wrapped around its middle, and you appreciate the fact that it matches well with your outfit. By the time you’ve found your weapon of choice Five is standing at the ready with a fire axe in his hand.

“I never am,” you admit with a small sigh. “Let’s get this over with.”

You follow behind Five as he emerges into the conference room, the board members of the commission all sat around their fish boss at the table discussing important matters related to the space time continuum. This is your first meeting of Carmichael, and you can’t say you’re disappointed; he certainly lives up to the expectations.

“You!” The fish exclaims, his once lackadaisical posture now fading into one of alarm at the sight of your partner. “Call security!”

A woman rolls her chair back to the telephone only to have her arm chopped clean off by Five, and so the bloodshed begins. There’s a pattern to the way in which you work, switching off between members as Five swings and you slash. Dismembered limbs line the room, blood coats the walls, bodies slump over one another and one hangs clean from the ceiling, but each kill is executed with swift precision and accuracy. It’s a twisted waltz between partners, one that holds a flow in your movements and a beauty despite the psychotic nature of it all, but you never miss a single step.

You decide to let Five finish Carmichael off just to let him have a small victory for once after the shit storm of failures he’s endured thanks to the unintentional incompetence of his siblings; the glass of water he’d taken a drink from earlier was calling your name, and it’s as your quietly sipping from the cup that the seemingly harmless attendant from the entrance tackles Five off of the table and onto the ground.

“You’re gonna pay for that vending machine, little mister!”

“Get off of me!” Five demands before elbowing the woman in the face. He’s quick to scramble to his feet just as you’re quick to rush over to the pair from the other end of the table. “I don’t want to hurt you, alright?”

You can’t help the surprised gasp that leaves you as she retaliates with a square punch to his jaw. If she wasn’t getting in the way of your assignment you might have stopped to admire just how bad ass this lady was.

“Hurt me? Oh, I ain’t afraid of you, you little puss ball.”

“He said hands off, lady,” you grunt in time with the impact of the axe handle landing on the back of her head. You didn’t want to kill her, but you really needed her out of the way if the two of you were going to pull this off. Five meets your gaze with bewilderment at your actions— he’s always been the one to take out the distractions — but you only give him a helpless shrug before dropping the weapon. “What? Okay, I’ll admit, not my proudest moment. But-“

“Carmichael,” he interrupts hastily before rising from the ground to fetch another makeshift weapon.

“I’ll get the water,” you say through another grunt as you rise from the ground to fetch the very same glass from earlier before refilling it with the pitcher left behind for the commission members. A small huff of air leaves your lips as you do so, the physical toll of the day’s activities finally beginning to settle into your muscles. A younger body did not make the work any easier, but you push through and rush back out into the hall to find your bloodied boyfriend standing over the flopping fish on the carpet.

You’re careful to avoid the shards of glass that have been strewn about as you lift Carmichael from the ground by the tail and plop him into the glass of water. Five watches your every move closely, his chest rising and falling with the panting breaths that leave him as a result of the short-lived chase.

“You know, he’s kind of cute like this,” you smile while admiring the colorful little fish in the cup. “Can we keep him?”

“We’re not done yet,” Five reminds you with a harsh sigh. “Now lets get out of here before some other crazy lady starts sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Curios eyes watch your retreating forms casually stroll out the front door as if you both weren’t coated in blood and carrying off an unruly fish in a small glass cup, but neither of you seem to notice nor care. You’ve completed a job well done, you’re one step closer to getting home, and now the world can finally be saved once and for all.

“You did good back there,” Five comments offhandedly. “Almost felt like old times.”

“Wait, I’m sorry. Did I hear that right? Did Five Hargreeves just give me a compliment?” You tease with a sly grin only for him to roll his eyes.

“You always have to ruin it, don’t you?” He scowls, but before he can take the compliment back you’re using the pad of your thumb to wipe some of the blood from his cheek so that you have a clean surface to press your lips upon.

“Always,” you chirp happily, giggling at the bemused expression on his face before skipping ahead of the boy to the rendezvous point. “Let’s go, Carmichael. We have places to be.”

“She’s an enigma, that one,” Five mutters softly, but the corner of his lip is upturned ever so slightly and there’s a lightness to his step as he follows close behind.

Yep, just like old times.

#wait this was so fun to write #i changed it up a bit too #five hargreeves #number five #five hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #five hargreeves imagine #number five imagine #five #five x reader #five imagine #the umbrella academy #tua #tua x reader #tua imagine #request