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bangtanflirt · 8 months

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(Un)natural Instincts (Part 2)

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property, future smut (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: torture collars, needles, mention of past dubcon (hybrids under influence of the synthetic hormones cannot properly consent), more inaccurate business talk,

____

It’s 7am the next day when your actual assistant shows up at your door, with your precious Americano in hand.

“I heard about the coffee mishap yesterday, so I thought I’d bring you this a little earlier than usual.”

“You are my savior.”

Yoongi laughs as you invite him in. Your assistant is one of the few people you found you could let your guard down around. He’s probably the closest thing you have to a friend.

“Is everything alright with you? You never call off work, and you didn’t reply to the message I sent.”

“Sorry, there was a lot going on. Everything’s fine now, just had a little scare with my mom’s blood pressure. She’s good though!”

“Oh thank god. Are you sure you don’t need more days off to take care of her?”

“My brother is keeping an eye on her, but I very much appreciate the sentiment.”

“Of course. Don’t hesitate to step out when you need. Or if you need help with her medical bills, I’m always here.”

“Woah woah, calm down there before I start spreading a rumor that you’re actually a nice person Y/N.”

You roll your eyes and laugh, “Don’t you dare.”

But the joking atmosphere only lasts for two seconds before your mood turns solemn.

“I’m actually so far from a nice person you wouldn’t believe it.”

And so it goes, you explaining the entire fiasco of last night. You know you deserve the judgy look he tries to hide when you get to how easily you caved in. But there’s also sympathy in his eyes, because he’s one of the few people in the world who would even try to understand where you’re coming from.

“That’s not all…they also…um…gave me one.”

He looks puzzled.

“They gave you a collar? But you don’t even have a hybrid.”

You take a deep breath before uttering the next sentence.

“They gave me a hybrid.”

“WHAT?!”

“Shhh! Keep your voice low, he’s sleeping in one of the guest rooms right now!”

He switches to a whisper yell instantaneously.

“You took a hybrid home with you? Are you insane?!”

“Maybe I am. I don’t know, I wasn’t exactly acting with a plan. I just couldn’t send him back to get tortured. You should see him Yoongi, he looks like he’s been through hell and back.”

The man’s eyes softened.

“I don’t know how you’re going to get yourself out of this mess, but I guess I’m getting dragged into it with you, aren’t I?”

“You can always quit, you know. I’d give you a cushy desk job somewhere in the company.”

“Eh I’ll wait. I’m still not fed up with you yet, even if I think you’re actually insane for this. So is the hybrid going to just lounge around here while you’re at work? Shouldn’t there be some supervision?”

You nod.

“Yeah, I notified the housekeepers already, told them I’d pay extra if they take care of him for me. His name’s Jungkook by the way. 60% human and 40% gray wolf.”

“40% is a lot.”

He’s right. The very few pet wolf hybrids in the market right now are 25% wolf, as that’s the max percentage before they get too dangerous to handle.

“Yeah, but I’m more of a threat to him than he is to me at this point.”

___

The workday is long, and you’re mentally not even there. Every five minutes, you’re thinking about Jungkook and how he’s doing. Thankfully, the housekeepers keep sending you updates to assure you he’s doing fine.

You scroll through with relief, reading what he’s up to throughout the day. Apparently, he was terrified of the shower, but had no problem drawing himself a bath. Another text let you know he loves the omelet the chef prepared for lunch. And the rest of the texts are just notifying you that he’s resting in his room at various points in the day. So far so good, thankfully.

With your mind at some ease, you can actually focus on work.

You get your hands on everything Pet Paradise can give on the Obedience Collar before officially signing a contract. There’s information that’s classified, mainly the patent for the synthetic hormones, but the books and research procedures are documented in the files in front of you. And unfortunately, they look spotless. The money is all there in a clear trail, no gaps or unusual patterns, and the research procedure follows all protocol needed. You want to just hide under your desk and avoid this entire situation.

You’re scheduled to tour the research facility tomorrow, and the last thing you want to do is see five more hybrids as scared as Jungkook—especially knowing you can’t scoop these ones up and take them home. But you’re holding out hope. There’s still a chance that something’s wrong at the facilities, something not shown on paper. At this point you’d settle for the smallest thing and find a way to blow it up so the whole operation has to be shut down. You’ve got some of the best lawyers in the country, so you might as well use them. You just need something to be wrong.

It's around 6:45pm when you arrive home, and one of the housekeepers greets you with a warm smile, immediately jumping into how well-behaved Jungkook is. It makes you wince to hear him described like that, especially knowing the amount of needles piercing his skin just to achieve the “well-behaved” status.

The staff all leave as you arrive, knowing you like them to be done by the time you're back. The chef has already left hours earlier, as he usually prepares dinner in advance and keeps it in the fridge.

Jungkook’s door is slightly ajar, and you peek in to see the boy melted into the bed. It’s weird; he looks a lot more tired than yesterday, eyes barely keeping themselves open. It’s probably the hormones, you conclude somberly.

“Jungkook, it’s time for dinner. Come on out.”

The boy takes the last bit of energy he has to trudge to the dinner table, and you put a heated up bowl of kimchi-jjigae down. You sit across and join, noticing that the stew is extra flavorful today.

“Mhmm, Chef Gyu really outdid himself with this one. And I bet the omelet was just as delicious. I was told you loved it, is that true?”

You look over expecting an answer, but what you see instead is Jungkook almost falling asleep right into the bowl before catching himself at the last minute.

Maybe the side effect of the hormones make him too sleepy to do anything?

Your thoughts are interrupted by your ringtone. It’s Chef Gyu.

“Hello Chef, I was just singing your praises for this food.”

There’s a nervous chuckle at the other end of the line.

“Thank you Y/N, glad you and your new friend liked it.”

“Is something wrong? You usually don't call this late.”

“Um, yes, actually. The reason I called is because of your hybrid.”

“What do you mean? I was told he stayed in his room for most of the day. Did he cause you any trouble?”

You look over, but Jungkook is too exhausted to register that you’re talking about him.

“No, none at all. He was extremely polite. The problem was the housekeeping staff…they didn’t do any of the work today.”

You feel a pit in your stomach, putting the pieces together.

“Did they…did they make Jungkook clean the house?”

“Yes Miss. They were watching TV for practically the whole time. I should’ve told you earlier, but I told myself it wasn’t my place. I’m deeply sorry.”

“Thank you for telling me now. I appreciate it a lot. I have to go.”

You hang up abruptly, seething the minute the phone is cut.

There’s a million different ways your mind is conjuring up of how to ruin the housekeeping agency, make them cry bankruptcy as you blacklist them from working anywhere ever again. The rage inside you is glowing red, and the only thing getting you to calm down at all is your objective of getting Jungkook back into bed before he actually does fall asleep into his dinner. You support his weight gently, grateful that he’s awake enough to zombie-walk wherever you lead him. It’s only when he’s tucked under the blankets do you let the anger stir up again.

They made him clean the entire house by himself. A house that usually takes eight people to clean, they made him do all alone so they could kick back and relax with your flatscreen TV. It astonishes you how cruel people can be, how they can look into his scared doe eyes and take advantage of him.

The world is not on Jungkook’s side right now, it seems.

___

Yesterday’s incident is fresh in your mind the next morning. Thankfully, Yoongi found a new housekeeping service at the last minute. You’re still worried that the same thing might happen again, but you can’t afford to miss work today; so, you do the best that you can and ask Chef Gyu to keep an eye on the situation while he’s cooking.

Today’s the day you need to tour the lab facilities for the Obedience Collar—a task you’d trade in to do quite literally anything else. Yoongi looks at you with concern, seeing the strain this visit is putting on you.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. Isn’t the plan to go in and find something to shut the whole thing down?”

“But if I can’t shut it down? What if there’s nothing wrong there either, and I have to look into the faces of five other abused hybrids and know I’m ruining their lives? What if I just call the whole thing off? Yes Mr.Kang is going to be insufferable and yes it’s going to cause a blow to my reputation, but it can’t be worth it to go through with this. It’s just not right.”

The room is silent for a second before Yoongi speaks up.

“It’s a little more complicated than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was trying to find a good time to tell you since yesterday, but you’ve been so stressed that I didn’t know how…”

“Spit it out Yoongi.”

“Kang got on the board of directors at Jewel Accounting.”

Your blood runs cold. Jewel Accounting is one of your key partners.

“W-what do you mean? Isn’t that a conflict of interest? How can he be on the board that has to audit his own company?”

“He’s overseeing consulting, not audits. Pet Paradise wouldn’t be his client, but I’m afraid pulling out of this deal on a whim is going to make business a lot harder for us. The only way out is finding a good legal argument against investing.”

You want to shove your head into a bucket of cement.

___

The lab is cold and sterile, with glaring fluorescent lights, medical lab equipment spread everywhere, and white-tiles lining floor to ceiling. The researchers guiding you, however, seem to be in a chipper mood, smiling as if they don’t torture hybrids on a daily basis here. First, your team is taken around to look at the facility in general. Jungkook’s adverse reaction to showers makes sense when you see the one tiny sad looking shower stall they use—a lab assistant boasts about the stall being “efficient” by fitting at least three of them in at once.

Yoongi lightly touches your shoulder at different points throughout the tour, as if to ground you. There’s no beds, just a chamber with cots on the floor, and the food packets of sludgy brown gruel are easily the least appetizing thing you’ve ever seen.

“And now we have the part you are all, no doubt, most excited for: the research subjects!”

You hold your breath, dreading what comes next.

One by one, each wolf hybrid is brought out and lined up in front of you, all with the same fear engraved in them as Jungkook. They might be the hybrids, but you’re the one with urge to claw someone’s eyes out at the moment.

“We’ve trained different ones for different purposes, just to test how well the collar can make them behave in different situations. Jungkook was given away before any specific training, but the rest are skilled in different domains. First up we have Jin, Jimin, and Taehyung.”

Three of the hybrids step forward. One is a broad-shouldered blonde, with two smaller-framed brunettes next to him.

“These three have been trained for housework and taking care of children. Now, we know the image of a wolf-hybrid putting a baby to sleep sounds ridiculous, but this technology really is that advanced.”

Someone in the back makes some joke about a wolf singing rock-a-bye baby and everyone laughs. You and Yoongi fake a laugh to keep up appearances.

“The next one is Hoseok”

He’s lean with slicked-back black hair, and you notice he’s the only one dressed up, with a low v-neck shirt that leaves plenty of his chest exposed. More than he’s comfortable with, it seems, because you notice his hands itching to cover himself up. He doesn’t though, just fidgets with the sides of the shirt instead.

“He’s a romantic companion. Trained to give pleasure to any gender and for any intimate situation. He can fulfill every fantasy your minds can conjure up!”

There’s some snickers erupting again, but neither you or your assistant can attempt to fake laugh this time. Especially not when he makes eye contact, giving you a trained flirty smile that doesn’t reach his eyes one bit.

“And the last one is Namjoon, the pack alpha.”

Namjoon steps up, the tallest of them all. He stands the straightest as well. His hair is black and his eyes are more dragon-like than wolf, looking straight ahead with a stoic expression. The only indication of his scared nature is his trembling fingers and pleading eyes, but that aside, he looks as still as a statue.

“He’s a guard hybrid, perfect to keep intruders away. He’s been trained in a mix of defensive martial arts. Plus, he’s an alpha so you’d have to be insane to try to fight him off. Fun fact, hormone packs for alphas are different—they have a higher dosage. It took some experimentation, but we finally got the levels right.

And with that, you’ve seen the whole pack! Normally, training a wolf hybrid to do any of these would take at least two years, and that’s only for the ones 25% max wolf DNA. God knows training a 40% wolf would be nearly impossible. But with the help of the Obedience Collar, not only can we train higher percentages of wolves, but we can train them in as little as three months! As Mr.Kang probably told you a thousand times already, this will really revolutionize the hybrid market!”

___

You toss your laptop bag onto the sofa right as you come in through the door, kicking your heels off and slouching into your favorite recliner. You can’t be bothered to put things up in a tidy manner at the moment, especially with how shitty you feel.

There wasn’t a single flaw you could find at the lab today. All the equipment had passed inspection checks and were state-of-the art, the researchers had proper credentials and specialized licenses in hybrid research, and every procedure conducted was documented thoroughly—you made it a point to skip over the entire section for Hoseok, wanting to stay far away from the details of what he was made to do.

You let out a frustrated groan. Forgetting you’re no longer alone in your house, hearing footsteps shuffle spooks you for a second, before you see the wolf hybrid timidly come into the living room. Thankfully, he looks well-rested today. Chef Gyu did text you a while back that the new cleaners were doing well, and Jungkook was actually resting in his room for real this time. He does a quick bow before walking over and propping your heels up correctly. His next mission seems to be to put your carelessly tossed laptop bag in its proper place.

“You don’t need to do that for me Jungkook. I can do it myself.”

“Sorry Miss.”

You hate how meek he sounds, and that he’s the one apologizing in this situation. You should be getting on your knees spilling apologies right now, for going to that lab to see his pack be flaunted off like toys. But instead, he’s looking at you as if he’s the guilty one.

“You didn’t do anything to apologize for. Thank you for tidying up, I appreciate it.” You give me a reassuring smile, but he seems more confused than anything else. He doesn’t know if that means to do it more in the future or not do it all…he wishes you could just give simple commands instead of these tests.

You sit down for dinner, but don’t know how much of an appetite you have after today.

“Do you like the fried rice?”

“Yes Miss” he says between big spoonful, and the way he talks with his cheeks full makes you melt a little.

“Call me Y/N, please.”

“Yes Miss Y/N.”

“Just Y/N is fine”

He raises a brow,

“Pets should address their owners politely, Miss Y/N.”

That sentence makes your skin crawl. The way he so casually refers to himself as a pet, and to you as an owner.

“It’s okay Jungkook, I like being called Y/N.”

“…if you say so, Y/N.”

The name alone feels so wrong on his tongue, making him worry that someone in a lab coat is about to come drag him away for extra obedience training.

“Thank you. So, what have you been doing all day?”

“I tried to help out with the housework, but the people today told me that wasn’t my job…which was really confusing because the people yesterday told me that it was my job.”

“It’s not your job.”

“What is my job Mis—I mean, Y/N? I know I don't have specialized training, but I'm a quick learner! If you could give me a list on how to be good here, I’ll do my best and follow it.”

You want to tell him he doesn’t have to worry about things like that anymore, but you’re concerned that a conversation like that will malfunction his brain. How could it not, when the hormones flowing through his body plus the brainwashing tell him that’s all he should be thinking about.

“There is one thing you could do for me”

His wolf ears perk up, eager for a command.

“It’s really hard to keep up with the latest shows with my job, but I feel left out when everyone in the office has seen something I haven’t. If I give you a list, you think you could watch them for me and give me the summaries?”

“Yes absolutely! I’ll take detailed notes and tell you everything!”

There’s genuine excitement in his eyes. Jungkook’s never had the opportunity to watch TV before, and he can’t believe his luck. He doesn’t show his joy too much though, fearing that you’ll think he’s using the assignment as an excuse to slack off. He wants to be good, wants to show you he’s well-trained.

“Perfect. You’ll be helping me out a lot.”

You have to bite your lip to keep a straight face, endeared by how hard he’s trying to hide his excitement. But the moment is short-lived, as Jungkook’s face turns sour in an instant.

“What are you thinking about?”

“My pack. They’d probably love watching TV too.”

You don’t say anything to that.

Dinner ends with an uncomfortable silence looming in the air, that is until Jungkook spills juice on himself.

“I’m so sorry!”

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it.”

“B-but you just got me these clothes. I was being careless. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s really fine, it’s not hard to get it dry-cleaned. I’ll put the dishes up, so go in and change into something else.”

He gives you one last string of “I’m so sorry”s before heading off to his room.

Once you’ve loaded the dishwasher, you make your way upstairs to the boy’s room, seeing if he needs anything before bed. His bedroom door is open, as is the bathroom door. You follow the sounds of scrubbing before being met with his back to you, hunched over the sink, trying to get the stain out of the white t-shirt. He’s topless and you know it’s wrong to ogle at his incredibly fit physique right now, but something catches your attention right before you’re about to avert your eyes.

Blue splotches pepper his waist, almost bruise-like but not quite.

“Um, Jungkook”

The boy turns,

“What are those blue marks?”

He twists his body in front of the mirror, looking at the marks with the same amount of confusion as you.

“I have no clue.”

Was it an allergic reaction? Have your “eat up” commands been making him eat food he’s allergic to?

“Do you have any allergies?”

“I’m not sure…no one’s ever told me…but I feel fine.”

“Nothing hurts? No nausea, hives, itchy nose?”

He shakes his head.

“I’ll come home early tomorrow and schedule a visit with a hybrid doctor in the evening.”

The color in his face visibly drains.

“I’m a-alright. Really.”

No doctor please. Last thing I need is another person in a white coat messing with my body again.

Your tone softens, “Relax, the most it’ll be is an allergy test. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Jungkook’s back to shaking as much as he did on his first day.

____

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know if you're liking it so far!

Taglist: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22

*If Tumblr doesn't let me tag you for some reason, I'll send you a DM instead!

#bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #poly ot7 #ot7 x reader #hurt/comfort #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #unnatural instincts

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milkywaydrabbles · 7 months

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Can I request a sencario with #37 (overetimulation) with souya for kinktober?❤️ nothing better than a super sensitive or needy souya.

Can't wait to see how you write him🥹

-🐇

A/N: I took my night night meds so I am falling ASLEEP as I write this omg but I think this turned out okay! This was the first time writing for him so I'm not sure if I captured him correctly or if it's wildly OOC. Please let me know how you feel about it! MWUAH (PS I had to go back and read the last chp. because TR wiki wouldn't just tell me what the gd twins did when they were older god)

Overstimulation x Kawata Souya

The twins had hired you months ago, when their ramen shop picked up in popularity and they found themselves needing extra hands around the restaurant to assist with front of house duties. They went through interview after interview, candidates either not fit for the job or those who were too scared of Angry to stay longer than a week. It was frustrating, he was trying--it wasn’t his fault he had a natural scowl. Angry would only try to help the newcomers, giving them helpful tips and tricks on how to do something easier, or learn all the soup bases. Everyone took it as scolding, not willing to look past his demeanor and listen. And then you came along. A bit quiet, but level headed and kind. You’d worked in an izakaya before this, needing something not as aggressive--your temperament couldn’t handle the drunks for long periods of time.

Nahoya liked you immediately, glancing over to his twin who said nothing a majority of the interview and just stared. He couldn’t help but snicker once you left, rustling his hair while he earned a glare from the younger twin. You were eager, starting off strong but noticing you needed some help with memorizing all the bases. Souya had hoped his brother would take over and just help you instead, he wasn’t ready for another runner. Instead, you had personally asked him for his help, wringing your hands together as you nervously waited for his response. He helped as normal, though his angry demeanor was still present it never scared you off. You listened diligently, smiling at him with each trick he had up his sleeve. After you learned your way around the shop easier, the conversations flowed easily between the two. Sure, Nahoya would give his input here and there--but he saw the way his brother would look at you. Really look at you. He’d tease him whenever he knew you weren’t listening and kept on his way. The twins would try to send you home early here and there, give you a break from the long hours of the restaurant, but you’d simply smile and shake your head. “I like it here.” You’d reply, turning over to Souya, eyes softening. “I’d rather be here.”

He confessed to you a few weeks later, and the rest was history.

Now he had you under him, writhing in pleasure and whimpering his name. The room was filled with pants and the squeaking of the bed underneath you, air heavy with the smell of sex. Souya had filled you up with his cum earlier in the night, but he couldn’t help himself and keep fucking into you. “So-oouya, s’go-ood” You whimpered against the pillows, clawing at the headboard with each hump against you. Angry couldn’t help himself, not when you were working so hard at the shop today. You looked so good, diligent in your work, making sure everything was running so smooth with him today. Nahoya had to take the day off, feeling a bit under the weather. But you made sure everything was kept under control, dealing with all the customers and making sure Souya had help when he needed it. He was practically on you the second you both crossed his door. “A-ah, fuck, you feel so good, angel--fuckfuckfuck, pussy’s so good.” His arms were on either side of you, fucking into you harder, his cum squishing around him oozing on the sides. “Can’t--aah, can’t hold on-fuck” Souya clenched his jaw holding in a whine while he came inside of you again, stilling while he filled up your creamy pussy. He panted, catching his breath before pulling out and fucking into you again. You whined underneath him, already feeling so full of him.

“Sososo good, honey, pussy so good” He was slurring his words together, fucked out and losing control. Souya was drunk off the feeling of your cunt, whimpering when you clenched around him with the praise. He knew he should stop, he’d already came twice and his cock was becoming sensitive. But he was still rock hard, and the way your ass rippled each time he pummeled into you looked too good for him to stop. The younger twin became noisy when he got like this--nothing else on his mind except his beautiful darling girl underneath him crying and full of his cum. “Feel so good, nngh, such a good baby” He whined, face relaxing enough for his nose to scrunch up and tears prickle at the corners of his eyes--his cock was aching, the feeling of your gooey walls overstimulating him in the best way possible. But he wasn’t done yet. Souya had pressed his chest onto your back, turning you so he could fuck you on his side. A hand snaked in front to rub your clit, fucking you from the back with vigor. You couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips, tightening your core around his dick when he rubbed you like that. “S-Souya, g’na cum again, m’g’na cum.” You repeated, whining when you felt your orgasm come crashing over you. Your legs trembled, but his pace kept up just a brutal. You closed your legs, trying to retreat but Angry just kept fucking into you. “S’too muuuch” You whined, but he never let up. “Ca-haa-can’t stop, honey, feels good.” You knew he was just as overstimulated, you could hear it in his shaky voice, thick with tears and the sniffling behind you. His cum was sticky on your ass and the fronts of his thighs, webbing and sticking on your skin with each pull. It kept you connected to him, pulling apart each time his hips weren’t on yours. “Gonna cum again, oh fuck, gonna cum again.” Thick sob bubbled in his throat as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down, grinding himself deeper into your cunt--you felt his tip kissing at your cervix, and it felt like he was in your throat.

The two of you stayed connected, and sticky, nothing put panting messes until he swallowed and rubbing circles into your stomach. “Are you..okay?” He murmured, embarrassed. Souya really could never believe you were with someone like him, so it took a lot for him to acknowledge that you were still around after sex. He felt you nod against him, legs still quaking from the strength of your orgasm. “Mhm” you turned in his arms, feeling him slip out with more of his gooey cum oozing out. You hitched your leg onto his hip, uncaring of the mess below you. “Are you?”

Bashful, his face turned a pretty shade of pink as he nodded in return, scowl slowly returning to his features. “I’ll clean you up, just stay here okay? Have to make sure you’re okay.”

Kawata Souya was a lot of things. But ‘angry’ was never one of them. Not with you.

#souya kawata #souya x reader #souya smut #kawata souya #kawata souya x reader #souya kawata x reader #kawata souya smut #souya kawata smut #tokyo revengers souya #tokyo revengers angry #tr angry #tokyo revengers angry x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #angry x reader #tokyo revengers smut #milk writes #milk kinktober

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resi4skz · 9 days

Text

Title: Starstruck (final part)

Pairings: idol!Chan x fem!Reader

Warnings: phone masturbation, n!pple play, horny chan, y/n being seductive

‼️MDNI‼️

Pt 1 , Pt 2

My phone buzzes, echoing in my room. I absent mindedly search for my phone with my hand as it buzzes again. Opening one eye, I grab it and smile at the name popping on the screen. But when I look at the time, I groan. "Channie, it's 3 in the morning," I say, groaning into my pillow.

I hear him chuckle. "Sorry, baby. I couldn't resist. I just had to hear your voice."

"Hmm."

"Are you sleepy?"

"Hmm."

He laughs in my ear. "Baby."

"Hmm."

"Are you going to keep saying the same thing to whatever I say?"

"That depends," I replied, half asleep.

"On?"

"What I get in the end."

He laughs again as I turn to my side, placing my phone under my left ear. "Well, what is it that you want exactly?"

"Riding lessons."

"Oh?" I can almost see the smirk he's got on his face.

"Keep it in your pants, Mr. Bang. I actually want biking lessons."

"Oh."

I snort. "Is that all you think about?"

I hear some shuffling on his end and I yawn, waiting for his reply.

"Yes because there's not a day that goes by when I don't think about you."

"Hmm."

"Our time together was too short. I wanted to spend more time with you."

Sleep clouds my brain. "Hmm. Yeah."

He chuckles. "I'll let you go. Goodnight, babygirl. Sweet dreams." The line clicks and I turn to my other side, slumber taking over me.

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

The next night, he calls me again but this time, I was awake and alert, enough to hear what he was saying. "Hello?"

"Hey."

Okay, he sounds.... annoyed? "I wanted to apologize to you about last night."

"It's okay. I called you when you were sleeping," he says.

"No, Channie. It was rude of me to fall asleep on you. I'm very sorry."

"Baby."

"And," I added. "I know it's been a long time since we last saw each other."

"Baby, I kn-"

"But then I went back to sleep. I mean who does that? It wasn't nice of m-"

I get cut off by him calling my name. "Y/N!"

I blink at his sudden outburst. "Y-yeah?"

"It's okay. It was my mistake calling so late. I just wanted to hear your voice because I was having trouble sleeping."

My heart soften at his words. "Did anyone tell you how adorable you are?"

He chuckles. "Stop. You're going to make me blush."

I giggle. "I guess that's a good thing? Because the last time we together, it was you who made me blush."

I hear him laugh and it puts a smile on my face. "Hey," he says softly.

"Hmm."

I hear him shuffling again before the line goes dead. I look at my phone, confused. Did he just hang up on me? When I put my phone down, it rings immediately, making me jump. He's face timing me? Now? At this hour?

Clicking accept, it connects the calls and reveals him in a white robe and his curls on display. Wow. Talk about looking like a god. "There's the beautiful girl I missed."

I smile, waving and ignored the heat reaching my cheeks. "Hi."

He smiles. Goodness. He's got the prettiest smile in this world, and that's speaking from a fan's point of view. "Hey, do you mind if I make some tea?"

"Not at all," he replied. But as I get up, he says, "Take me with you."

I grab my phone and walk into the kitchen, placing my phone against my coffee jar. Opening a cabinet above me, I reach up grabbing a mug. "So, how was your day?"

"Better now that I'm watching you."

I almost drop the mug. Jesus, I knew he was like this before we met but to experience such a thing in real life.....

"I am sorry again, about yesterday," I say as I fill the kettle before putting it on the stove.

"Stop."

"Huh?" I glance at my phone before grabbing a tea bag.

"Babe, stop...moving."

I turn and look at my phone. He looked like he was straining, almost like he was in pain. "Are you okay?"

"Fuck," he breathes out, his eyes closed.

"Are you hurt?" Panic starts setting in. "You should take it easy. Your job requires you to use a lot of energy."

"That's not, fuck, that's not it."

I tilt my head, perplexed. Also noticed his robe was opened, revealing his chest. "Channie, what's going on?"

"I'm," he says as he moves his phone away, placing it against something before moving back a bit. "Hard."

Holy mother of all glory. My eyes widen as I glance at it. "Uh..uhm..."

"Sorry but what you're wearing right now is too much for my brain to handle."

I look down and blush. I was wearing my silk night pjs in the color of dark pink. The top had spaghetti straps, showing a lot of cleavage while my pants hugged my curves, especially my ass. I look back up and his hand now on his shaft, stroking it slowly up and down. All the blood rushed down my thighs. "This isn't fair, you know."

He chuckles but groans. "Mmm, I can't wait to come back."

"Yeah," I lean over, one strap falling down my arm as I bite my lip.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, his hands stroking his dick a little faster.

Feeling confident, I lick my lips seductively which makes him lose his mind. "What are you thinking about?" I ask as I slide my hand to my clothed breast, pinching the small nub.

"About you. About how pretty you are and how you would look underneath me," he grunts as pre cum leaks from his tip. "Mm, fuck. Baby, I would fuck those tits."

(The steam slowly starts coming out of the kettle's mouth.)

"Yeah? These tits?" Biting my lip, I groan as I loop my arms out of the spaghetti straps and shove the cloth down to my mid riff, my boobs jiggling as they become free.

"Fuck. Play with them baby. I wanna cum watching you play with your tits as I would if I was there."

(The steam becomes more noticeable from the kettle.)

I do as I'm told. I tweak the nubs on my nipples with both hands as a moan escapes my mouth. "Fuck, Chan."

"Yes, that's it. Keep going."

I rub my nipples and squeeze one just as his breathing becomes more labored. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

(The keetle rattles a bit, the steam escaping its mouth more with a small whistle, ready to burst.)

"Yeah. Cum for me, babe. Imagine my mouth on it and cum," I say, my voice breathy and seductive.

"I'm cumming, fuck, I'm gonna cum," his hands pick up the pace as he throws his head back grunting, his body jerking and sperm shoots out of his cock.

(The kettle finally lets out its final whistle.)

As he comes down from his high, his breathing becomes regular and I pour the hot water into a mug, putting the tea bag in. I watch him wipe himself with wet wipes as I put my shirt back on. "Fuck, Y/N."

I chuckle, leaning back on the kitchen counter. "All good?"

"Yes. Fuck, you're too good to me," he hums while wearing his black boxers, closing his eyes before grabbing his phone.

The calls ends adrubtly and I blink at the home screen on my phone. "The fuck?" I shoot him a text.

But no reply.

Did he just seriously call me to jerk off? The nerve of this guy. I scoff, cursing at his name on the screen and make the tea, before walking over to the living room and making myself comfortable on the couch.

I was soon immersed in a movie on the tv when the doorbell rings. "Who the fuck is it at this hour?" Annoyed, I walk over to the intercom, turning on the doorbell camera. Someone or some guy dressed in all black from head to toe. Alarm bells start ringing in my mind. I press the talk button. "Who is it?"

The person removes the face mask. I gasp and run for the door, opening it quickly. "What are you doing here?"

He smiles, stepping inside as he cups my cheeks. "I couldn't wait."

"Wait, were you in Seoul all this time?" I ask, my hands finding their way around his waist.

"Hmm." He nods, placing a kiss on my right cheek, then my left. "I missed you."

Giggling, I reach on my tip toes leaving a kiss on his lips, catching him off guard. "Missed you too."

His left arm snakes around my waist, pulling me closer. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

"I may," I begin as he leans closer, hovering over my lips. "Have some idea."

"Brat," he whispers before smashing his lips on mine, enticing a moan from me. Leaving my lips, he peppers kisses down my jaw, neck and stops at the top of my breasts. "I said I wanted to-"

"-fuck these?" I finish his sentence. "I thought you were here to give me bike lessons?" I joked.

His eyes snap into mine, his gaze filled with lust. "Lesson number 1." His hands go around my hips, lifting me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. "Adapt to changing conditions."

He starts walking as his eyes search for my bedroom. "And what might I be adapting to?"

His eyes light up when he spots my room. "How to satisfy the driver," he replied, shutting the door with his foot.

Riding lesson #143: complete.

A/N: I wasn't going to write this but my brain was itching to write it. Enjoy!

#bang chan #christopher bang #stray kids bang chan #chris bang #bang chan fanfic #fanfic #skz #skz smut #bang chan smut

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daechwitatamic · 1 year

Text

Shut Up! || A KNJ Drabble

(banner by @itaeewon - thank you jen, especially for the super fast turn-around!!)

Title: Shut Up!

Summary: Once Namjoon’s on a roll about something, there’s really only one sure-fire way to shut him up. Ironically, it isn’t his mouth that needs to be full.

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (no gender mentioned) Genre: NSFW - minors begone!!!!, pwp (who tf am i omg), married!au WC: 1.4k Warnings: language, kissing, oral (m. receiving), maybe a lil dumbification im not actually sure, bodily fluids very present, i guess reader is a bit dom?

A/N: I DON’T KNOW WHO WROTE THIS, I WAS POSSESSED, THERE IS NO JO HERE. 🙈

Also, this is ENTIRELY @here2bbtstrash’s fault, or at least this anon’s fault!!!!

Thank you @kookstempo for the beta job!!!!! 🦃 💕💕💕💕

“Oh my god,” you lament, throwing your head back into the plush couch behind it, eyes rolling back, breath escaping you in one short huff. And not even for the good reasons.

Though… there’s an idea.

“What?” Your husband looks at you innocently, eyes a little wide at your uncharacteristic outburst. “What’s wrong?”

“I love you,” you say, fighting back a smile. His eyebrows raise a little; you’ve been together long enough that he knows this must be coming first to soften a blow. “I love hearing your thoughts. I love that we can share our thoughts with each other.”

“But?” he chimes in intuitively, chin starting to jut, anticipating defensiveness.

You gesture at the tv a little wildly. “But we paused the episode because you had something to say about it forty-two minutes ago. I timed it!”

He blinks at you, like this cannot possibly be true.

“Okay,” he says slowly, “but the thing is–”

“No!” you cry, tossing the remote onto the coffee table and sitting up to look at him. You have officially hit your breaking point. “Namjoon, no! Please - let me put the show back on.”

“Okay,” he repeats, “but -”

“No!” you shriek, and then you scramble up his tree of a body and press your nose to his, bumping his glasses so they’re slightly askew. Against his lips, you whisper, “Shut up, shut up, for the love of God, shut up.”

His hands come and rest low on your hips, practically on your ass, and he gives your nose a little nudge with his own, his lips pressing to yours - not so much a kiss as a fumble.

“It’s just that -” he mumbles against your mouth, and you know - you know - he’s fucking with you on purpose, now. He’s hard beneath you already; he knows as well as you do what you’re planning.

“Shut up,” you tell him again, kissing him in earnest this time, your fingers going for the hem of his t-shirt. He takes off his glasses and tosses them blindly towards the coffee table, then lifts his arms so you can pull the fabric around his head.

You go for his joggers next, and he lifts up eagerly as you slide them and his boxers down in one go. He kicks the black material free from his ankles and spreads his legs a little without you even telling him to, knowing exactly what’s coming.

Five years of marriage will do that; he knows the steps of this dance well, just like you know that the second your mouth is around him, you’re only getting one syllable words out of him until it’s done. It’s the only truly effective way to shut this man up.

You slide your hands up the insides of his thighs, pressing your nails in just a bit as you do. Namjoon hisses, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. You reach for the base of him, purposely brushing your fingertips along his balls on their way by, just lightly enough to leave a tingle, to make him shiver.

You pump him once, twice, as you settle on your stomach between his legs, and glance up to see how he’s doing. He’s looking down at you, those eyes dark and glinting sharply, and he brushes one hand over the top of your head as he exhales, waiting.

He doesn’t say a word. What a good boy.

You lick thick stripes from the base, stopping before the head each time - just to tease him. Just to build it up. He grunts each time you stop short, but when you pump him again - now slicked with spit - he sighs in relief, letting out a wispy, “God, yeah,” on a breath.

You reward him by wrapping your lips around his tip, tonguing his slit for the barest second before sliding further down his shaft, your hand working the part you haven’t reached just yet.

In all honesty, sloppy blowjobs aren’t usually your thing. You love to go down on Namjoon, love to hear what sounds you can pull from him, love to watch his eyebrows furrow and his adam’s apple bob. But messy, not usually. Special occasions only.

Tonight feels special. Tonight you have a goal. You want to render this genius man absolutely stupid. You want him to be devoid of any words that aren’t your own name.

You work both hand and mouth over him, the glide smooth as you let spit past your lips on each pass.

“Fuck,” Namjoon gasps as you tongue the underside of his cock on a downward pass.

You hum happily, setting a steady rhythm, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing him down just a bit more each time. When your lips’ seal around him breaks, releasing a wet, sloppy slurping noise through the otherwise quiet room, Namjoon groans above you.

“God,” he utters again, his voice so low you feel it in your toes, and you lift your eyes to take him in. His chest is flushed dark, heaving. The fingers of one hand twist in the throw blanket on the arm of the couch behind him, the other hovers near you, like he wants to touch but doesn’t want to break the spell.

You relax your jaw and take him down as far as you can, using both hands to hold his trembling thighs in place as you bring your nose closer and closer to his stomach. Once you’ve taken him as far as you’re able, you hold him there, your throat spasming around him. He whines, which almost makes you laugh, so you release him with a messy pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Shit, shit,” he gasps, the muscles in his stomach rippling beautifully. You take him in your hand again as you catch your breath, let your throat recover for a second.

You smile deviously, and purr, “Not so much to say now, hmm?”

His eyes fly open, disbelieving, his mouth falling open to gasp his next breath. His eyes flutter closed again as you continue to glide your hand from base to tip and back, and he shakes his head weakly, voice broken as he manages, “N-no. Fuck.”

You take him in your mouth again, hand keeping a steady but lazy rhythm at the base, reveling in the noises that drip from his mouth - desperate pants punctuated sharply by deep grunts as he fights to control himself, the curses he mumbles, barely audible, sharp consonants tripping out of his mouth as his abs flex in time with your movements.

You know he’s close when he starts bucking minutely into the heat of your mouth, staccato grunts morphing into long, legato groans. This is one of your favorite iterations of your husband - fucked out, eyes squeezed shut, sweat rolling from his brow into his dampened hairline, his brain finally silenced as he chases the feeling, chases his high.

His hand comes to your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he moans wordlessly. You take the warning seriously, popping off his tip and speeding up your hand as his feet press into the couch desperately, hips bucking just a little. You’re sure he’d rather come in your mouth, but you’re feeling selfish tonight. You want to see what he gives you.

His moan warbles, volume increasing as his hand tightens in your hair, and then he’s releasing rope after rope of cum; most of it lands on the flat of his stomach, but the last bit dribbles down the side of his softening cock, running over your fingers. Your slow your hand, watching his face carefully, until you can tell he’s spent.

You give a self-satisfied hum, sitting back on your haunches to admire your handiwork. He opens one eye blearily, a smile coming over his face.

“Okay,” he breathes, laughing a little. “I’m done talking now.”

eeeeeeep!!!! hope you enjoyed thank you for reading!!!!!

#trashlibrary #bts fanfic #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #bts fic #Namjoon fanfic #rm fanfic #kim namjoon fanfic #rm smut #rm x reader #rm fic #bts pwp #established relationship #daechwitatamic drabbles #fic: shut up!

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mncxbe · 9 months

Note

Please Ignore this if you aren't taking requests rn, but I had an Idea, Like how would Fukuzawa, Oda, etc react if you would accidentally call them Dad? If you want you can add other characters by accidentally calling them brother or sister :3 (omg imagine Yosano)

Omg yes that's so good. Sorry it took so long to write this piece I'm currently a bit busy at work but I finally managed. I hope you like it♡

4:05

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝑶𝒅𝒂, 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐, 𝒀𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒐 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff♡

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒘𝒂

he is so so surprised when you accidently call him "dad"

oh boy he tries to keep it cool to keep up appearances, but as soon as he's alone he smiles so much

he's so happy that you see him like that

will remember your words for longer than you expected

A wave of fear washed over you when Dazai informed you that the president has just summoned you in his office. It wasn't like you did anything bad, yet you couldn't help but wonder why he wanted to see you.

"Mr. President?" you asked in a hushed voice as you stepped into his office with your head bowed. "You wanted to see me."

"Ah, Y/N, yes. Please take a seat" said the silver haired man as he motioned you towards a cushioned pillow on the ground. "Would you like some tea?"

You mumbled a small 'mhm' before sitting on the mat. "So why did you want to see me, sir? Did I do something?"

Your tried to hide your anxiety but the tone of your voice betrayed you. Fukuzawa lifted his gaze from the tea he was pouring, his ocean eyes narrowing at you.

"Why would you assume you did something wrong?" he inquired.

"Well..." you stuttered "You don't usually ask me to come to your office so I figured that I messed something up."

A heavy silence fell between the two of you; you could even hear your own racing heartbeat. But then Fukuzawa's lips curled into a gentle smile.

"Oh, Y/N. I just wanted to congratulate you for doing such a great job. Your work is invaluable to our organization and I wanted to personally thank you for your contribution."

The relief you felt upon hearing his praise could hardly be put into words; your lips stretched into a gleeful smile as you bowed your head.

"Thank you sir. I'm honoured to be a member of this agency and I really cannot express how happy I am that my hard work pays off, dad. I promise I won't disappoint you and-"

The look of surprise on Fukuzawa's face made you stop in dead in your tracks. What was wrong? You asked yourself as you went over your speech in your mind. And then you realized that you had just called him dad.

"Oh God I'm sorry, sir. I didn't think when I said that"

Fukuzawa's expression softened as he handed you your cup of tea; steam curling on its surface like grape vines.

"Don't worry about it" he said reassuringly "I don't mind it."

The two of you quietly sipped your sweet tea before he let you return to work. After you shut the door, Fukuzawa finally allowed himself to externalize the sheer amount of happiness he felt. There was nothing he loved more than being able to take care of the Agency's members, and the fact that you considered him a father figure was proof that he was doing a good job.

𝑶𝒅𝒂

he smiles so gently♡

if you get embarassed he pets your head and reassures you that it's alright

Oda's really proud of himself; from then on he always brings you curry at work

It was only eight months ago that the Port Mafia decided to recruit you as an assistant. Your job was pretty basic: compling reports for different missions and sorting paperwork but you loved it since it allowed you to meet almost all higher ups in the organization.

This is how you ended up getting acquainted with Oda. Although he was around seven years older than you, he was surprisingly high spirited and young at heart and unlike other members of the Mafia he was always kind to you. Oda would often swing by the dusty underground room that acted as your office and ask how you day was, bringing you snacks and tea.

After a few months his visits became something natural and at times, when you were absorbed in your work, you didn't fully acknowledge his presence.

"Hi, Y/N. How's your day going?" asked the brunette as he shut the wooden door, causing a cloud of dust to rise from the floor.

"Jesus" he coughed "You really need to clean this place one day"

"Yea, I know. I just cannot find a damn broom in this entire building. Oh and I'm good thanks for asking. What about you?" you replied, typing away on your laptop. The keys on the computer board clicked faintly as you quickly ran your digits over them.

Your comment made Oda chuckle lightly "Well, my day's fine too. I'm gonna go on a mission later but I wanted to bring you lunch first" he said as he placed a cardboard box on your desk.

"Oh, thanks dad" you babbled out, still not taking your eyes off of the glowing screen.

It was only when the man let out a hoarse laughter that you actually snapped out of your trance.

"Did you just call me dad?" he asked in a playful voice, causing your face to heat up.

"Uh... Did I? I guess I did" you said in attempt to play it off. "Do you mind it?"

"Of course not, Y/N. It's really nice to know that you see me as a father figure."

For a few seconds your gaze held his and you could see the joy sparkling in his eyes; he was giddy, like a kid in a candy store.

The wholesome moment was however abruptly interrupted by a blink; you had just received another e mail from your boss, asking you to go over some old documents from the archive.

"Uuh this work just never ends!" you cried out, throwing your hands in the air in a desperate gesture.

Oda only chuckled at your outburst, his smile widening. "Well then I'll leave you to it, but don't forget to eat something too"

"I won't. Thanks Oda and good luck on the mission"

The man lazily waved at you before stepping out of the room, a gentle smile making its way to his lips. She called me dad. He kept chanting those words to himself throughout the whole day, his heart swelling with unbounded pride and joy.

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐

sweet baby, he already knew that you saw him as a brother, but actually calling him that makes him smile so much

he pinches your cheeks till they're red, good luck getting rid of him now

as someone who never actually had a family until he met Fukuzawa, having someone else see him as an older brother is such an honour

from then on, Ranpo shares more of his sweets with you

You've been working at the Detective Agency for a couple of months now and Ranpo was your mentor. He had found you one day at a crime scene, hovering over the body with an inquisitive look on your face.

"Sirs, it may look like this man committed suicide but based on the angle the blade was tilted at I can rule it a homicide. There's no way he could've held the knife like that" you announced confidently as one of the police officers dragged you away from the corpse.

You were hectically swinging your arms and legs in attempt to free yourself. "I'm telling you, it wasn't suicide. You're jumping to conclusions."

"Shut up, brat" spat the vexed policeman as he showed you past the yellow tape that restricted the perimeter. "You better not cross the line again unless you wanna end up in jail. This is your last warning" he said before walking away from you.

You huffed in annoyance, turning on your heels when you suddenly bumped into the young detective.

"You're quite observant, young lady" he said in his usual jovial voice. "Tell me, how old are you?"

"Seventeen..." you mumbled, your eyes narrowing at him "And who are you?"

The young man chuckled as a wide smile made its way to his lips. "I'm Ranpo Edogawa, the world greatest detective. And you, miss, are in great luck. I want to rectruit you as my apprentice."

From then on you accompanied Ranpo to crime scenes and solved countless cases together, the friendship between you growing stronger by the day.

One Monday evening as you returned to the office from a crime site, you enthusiastically pulled Ranpo in for a hug.

"Thanks, nii-chan. This was my biggest case so far and I couldn't have solved it without you." you beamed.

For a brief moment the detective was awestruck; he was accustomed to your sudden affections, but it was the first time you've ever called him big bro.

As if sensing his bewilderment you quickly pulled away from him, a deep shade of pink tinting your cheeks as you fumbled for words.

"I'm sorry Ranpo I don't know why I said that."

The detective regained his composure, flashing you his signature smirk "Hey, hey don't worry, Y/N" he said gently as he caressed the crown of your head. "You can always count on your big bro. Let's go get some sweets now, ok? My treat."

You nodded eagerly and began walking towards the closest convenience store; Ranpo stood behind, his emerald eyes following your movements. A warm feeling, which was most likely a blend of love and pride, bloomed in his chest as he watched you open the glassy door of the shop.

"You coming?" you yelled at him in attempt to cover the sound of the incoming traffic and he quickly followed you. The door closed behind him with a thud as you entered the shop.

𝒀𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒐

she blushes so much but she's so happy

much like Ranpo she's deeply moved when she hears your words

expect her to take you on more shopping sprees

"Keep up, Y/N. We still have a few more shops to check out" said the woman with a wide grin on her face as she entered yet another store.

It was the beginning of summer and almost all boutiques had clothes on sale, which meant that your colleague ought to take you on one of her infamous shopping sprees. Since you only started your job only a few months ago, you couldn't afford most of the ellegant garments displayed in the shop windows, so you simply resolved to carrying around Yosano's bags.

"Naa girly wait for me" you whined as you struggled to balance the shiny box Yosano just handed you.

The woman, seemingly ignoring your complaints, walked to a nearby mannequin and scanned the dress it was wearing with narrowed eyes.

"Tell me, Y/N. Do you like this?" she asked in a contemplative voice.

You considered the dress for a moment before speaking; it was truly gorgeous, a black piece adorned with intricate purple and pink patters which looked like curls of smoke.

"It's very beautiful, Akiko. You'd look great in it."

Your friend sighed, her head dropping to the side as her violet eyes met yours "That wasn't the question, Y/N. I asked if you like it."

You were taken aback by her blunt words but quickly nodded, earning a smile from the woman.

"Good. Then try it on" she said, taking a clothes hanger from a nearby rack.

You didn't bother to hide your excitement as you rushed to the changing rooms and slipped into the dress; and it fit you like a glove, perfectly hugging all your curves. With excitement burning in your eyes, you stepped out of the dressing room.

"Soo what do you think?" you asked your friend, performing a twirl.

"Oyy you look so hot girl" she cheered "Wear this to the next event we go to and you'll sweep everyone off their feet."

"I highly doubt that" you giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Plus I can't afford it anyway"

"Nonsense! I'm buying it for you" announced the woman with a proud smile on her face.

"But I can't accept it, Aki. It's way too-"

Yosano cut you short with a swift motion of her hand "Then consider it a birthday gift. You're turning 20 next month right?"

An ecstatic smile made it's way to your lips as you hugged her. "Thanks, nee chan" you whispered, your arms snaking around her neck.

Upon hearing your words Yosano's face turned a light shade of pink but she wasted no time to slip her hands around your torso, pulling you closer to her. Happiness bubbled up inside her when she felt you giggle agaist her shoulder.

"Anytime, Y/N" she smiled back

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bsd headcanons #ranpo x reader #bsd ranpo #ranpo edogawa #yosano akiko #bsd yosano #yosano x reader #oda bsd #oda x reader #bungou stray dogs fukuzawa #fukuzawa x reader #bsd fukuzawa #bungou stray dogs ranpo

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heartsforsserafim · 8 months

Note

Can I request Princess Kazuha to use her maid?

Playmate

pairing ; kazuha x fem!reader

genre ; smut/fluff

tw ; abuse of power, manipulation, cnc, getting caught, clit play, orgasm denial, teasing, love bites, g!p kazuha, size kink

an: r is older than zuha again in this fic, of course making her about yunjin's age , but kazuha is still taller by about 3 inches // and both r and zuha are switch!

You were hired to work under the Nakamura household. With them being the richest family in Japan, you felt honored. You messaged your mother, notifying her that you won't be home for a few months and she was fine with it. Seemed she was happier than you, nevertheless you made your way to the house.

It was huge, it had three separate gates before you could finally reach the front door. Before you could even walk in, a girl who had a potato smile asked for your business here. You found the girl cute and stuttered over your words a bit while speaking. You both were laughing a bit, but once she found out your reasons for being here she let you in.

Once walking in, you were met with a long hallway with so many doors to go down. huh, maybe those doors lead to longer hallways ?

you thought nothing more of it, and continued walking down until something pounced on you. opening your eyes to see a beautiful girl, she chuckled a bit before getting up. "S-sorry i thought you were Eunchae" she said awkwardly. "Uhm I'm kazuha by the way, welcome to the Nakamura household. My father is in this room" she pointed to a door, you obviously wasn't paying any attention you were busy studying the girls features. her puppy like eyes, to her adorable smile, her pink lips, god you wanted to kiss her.

Since it was against your rules, you would get fired if you did so. You nodded and hurriedly along to her father's office. "Mr. Nakamura" you say and nodded your head, "Ah Y/n didn't expect you so early, please take a seat" he said and smiled a bit. Explaining your jobs, you were handed a notepad so you'd be checking them off. Explaining your pay, and how much per chores. "Oh, and Y/n?" "Yes sir?" he stopped for a bit, looked as if he was, 𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚? "Uhm Kazuha likes to play a lot so if you may?" "Oh right, yes sir i can handle her" He smiled and nodded allowing you to walk out.

Met with those same eyes once again, she was squealing this time once she saw you. "Oh my gosh!! You're my new playmate?" "That's right kazuha" her smile was so adorable, she brought me over to this room. I thought her father meant video games, or chasing her throughout the house. Not this.

(...)

"z-zuha i don't think we should be doing this, i'm your worker afterall." "father said you're my playmate, my playmates are like my toys" she said and continued strapping you down. she looked at you, her eyes softened, "if you don't want to we don't h-have to" she said, tears threatening to fall. "N-no zuha we can do it, it's fine" she smiled and continued removing your clothes.

Once you were completely undressed she began teasing your clit, "A-ah~" you moaned out, kazuha's movements getting more bold as she started circling faster. "Fuck~ Mmhp zuha you're so ah good~" you moaned out. Her fingers now going to your cunt, she inserted two digits inside and began pumping.

Listening to you moan her name was so euphoric for her, she'd listen to it for hours. Speeding her hand movements up, a knock came at the door.

(...)

"Ugh.. Who is it?" kazuha said, removing her finger and untying you. "It's Yunjin you idiot! You told me to come over today" kazuha opened the door after you put your clothes on, "Oh shit, am i interrupting something here?" she asked pointing between you two. "No yun ugh stopppp" kazuha said as her face became red. Yunjin smirked and laughed a bit before closing the door.

You stood up, walking out. "Y-y/n where are you going?" "It's about time for supper, i have to go prepare it" kazuha pouted before looking down and nodding. You smiled at her and yunjin before walking out "So is she like your maid or something?" yunjin asked breaking the silence, "Well father found me a new playmate" Yunjin nodded.

Now, what the Nakamura family placed inside that ad was they were looking for a maid, but each time they get one they'd need another for Kazuha to have a playmate. Kazuha having playmates means her and said playmate are to do as they please as long as the playmate remembers to clean up after.

Ringing the bell, alerting everyone it was time for dinner. They all ate, "Woah Y/n you're such a good cook. Zuha she's a perfect wife for you" Yun said jokingly, causing you and zuha to blush a little. Her father noticing kazuha's "Sweetheart are you alright?" he asked her, kazuha was his star daughter. He cherished her, he gave her everything she ever wanted.

"Yes dad, i'm fine" she smiled and continued eating, her chuckled some and got up from the table walking towards you. Kazuha's eyes follow him, "Here you are Y/n. I know it isn't much for the first day but Kazuha really seems to like you so paying you daily is the new route" he said and smiled, handing you $10000. "O-oh thank you so much sir" you said, he nods and walks back into his office you're sure of.

after the girls finished eating, you began cleaning the kitchen. You felt a pair of hands, slide behind you. A head on your shoulder and based on scent, it was Kazuha. "Hi zuha, did you need anything?" she leaned down, and whispered. "You." you were sorta shocked and nodded hurriedly cleaning the dishes so she can get as she wanted.

You knew how much Mr Nakamura cherished his daughter, doing everything for her no matter what it is. So you had to give the girl that same respect.

(...)

Allowing zuha to do as she pleased led you here, currently screaming the younger girl's name out loud. "Fuck! I'm gonna cum please let me cum oh god don't stop" your hips bucking into the girl's mouth. She moved back watching as you whined out because she stopped. Edging you for the fifth time tonight.

She laughed a bit, and moved back to your cunt. Bringing her fingers to your wet hole, circling it. "A-ah" you clenched around nothing, she chuckled. Her eyes were darkened with lust. She forced three digits into your cunt. Fucking you insanely fast, as she began kissing along your neck and chest. Leaving hickeys everywhere. You were so drunk in pleasure you didn't realize how many the younger girl was leaving.

Once she stood up, walked over to you. Her cock, making her pants uncomfortably tight due to how hard she was. At this point, you didn't even get to cum once. She removed her pants and underwear. She was the biggest you've ever seen, being of course the only ones you've ever seen was of your exes but she was still bigger.

"C-can i put it in?" her voice is so soft and light, "Mhm" you nodded allowing the girl to do it. She started slowly, inch by inch. Stretching you out, "Ah~ You're so big fuck!~" you moaned out, circling your hips along her length. Making it easier for her to slide in... Once she was finally in, you both sat there. She was waiting for the signal to move, "You can move darlin" she nodded and began thrusting.

They were slow and deep, you knew for sure she was at least 10in she had to be. Nevertheless she began speeding up, she whimpered, "Y-you're so warm mmph!" "A-ah fuck~" you moaned after her and she started going quicker. "I-i'm gonna cum" you said, she pulled out. Before slamming right back into you, she had you dickmatized right now.

You were her cock slut already, and it was only the first day, she placed you on all fours. Grabbing your hair, making a ponytail, and starting thrusting faster. Her abs had a burning sensation, telling her to stop but she was too close. "F-fuck i'm cumming" you say and shook along her body. she continued thrusting, never stopping. Your cunt clenching around her, and your juices spilling out made her want to cum so bad but she continued going.. placing you on top of her, making you ride her cowgirl. "A-ah zuha!!" you moaned out, your second wave of pleasure taking over you completely you couldn't even move any more.

Kazuha grounded her feet and began pumping inside of you, insanely fast. Your moans filled her entire room, as her balls became heavier as time went on. Her bedroom door opened and she came inside of you, her load filling you up so much. She was clouded by her afterglow, her vision was blurry. She saw yunjin by the door before it was shut again.

(...)

You both laid there panting until her vision came back, "Okay i'm gonna go talk to her, please get some rest" she said and kissed your forehead, and went out the door.

Once she walked out, she met yunjin's smirking face, "And y'all aren't together??" She asked, "No hush! Father mustn't know about this" "Right.. does he know you're using her as your playmate?" Kazuha looked down, "Well no but-" Yunjin looked at her again, smiled, "Tell him" "Tomorrow, now please get some sleep" "That's the thing, I sleep inside your room too"

(...)

Once your time came for you to leave the Nakamura residence, kazuha wouldn't let you go. She was so clingy all day, "I have to go now, thank you Nakamura" you nodded before walking to the door. "Wait!" Kazuha said, running after you, "Please don't go" "I have to leave zuha"

The poor girl was crying, she loved you so much but she could never voice it out because she was scared you didn't feel the same way. "Zuha", you said cupping the girl's face, " I love you so so much, i wish we would've been able to be together but-" "We can! You're no longer a worker here, please y/n don't go." she didn't want you to leave, she was currently on her knees begging you not to go.

Her father heard her crying and walked out of his bedroom, "Zuha what's wrong?" he asked, you looked at him, and then he knew. "Sweetheart she has to go" Kazuha didn't care what he said, she wanted to be with you. No matter what it took, "Please y/n stay. Be my girlfriend..Please" your heart broke seeing her like this, you put your bags down and sat on the floor with her. "I'll stay, stop crying pretty girl" you said and wiped her tears away. Her father watched the whole thing, smiling and happy his daughter found her own happiness.

#kpop #girl group smut #kpop smut #lesserafim smut #le sserafim #kazuha fluff #nakamura kazuha #kazuha

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inamindfarfaraway · 2 years

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How much do you think the Signal’s debut shook the supervillains, and indeed all criminals, of Gotham? He destroyed their longstanding definition of a Gotham vigilante. All the rules went out the window. From now on, apparently anything goes.

[Early morning in a plain, modest safehouse. Jonathon Crane cracks his eyes open, yawns, slowly gets up and groggily shuffles to the kitchen/dining area, where he takes out a cup and prepares to use the coffee machine. Behind him his scientific equipment and notes are arranged neatly on the counter. A relaxed Duke is taking photos of them.]

Duke: (jovially) Good morning.

Jon: Good morning.

Jon:

Jon: Who the hell are you?!

Duke: I’m the Signal! (pats symbol proudly) The newest hero in town.

Jon: (blinks, still half-asleep) Like… the Bat-Signal?

Duke: Yeah, I’ve got this whole light theme going on.

Jon: But - it - it’s 6:30 AM.

Duke: Yep. Turns out crime doesn’t just vanish when the sun comes up, so I patrol in the daylight hours. The night shift has seven people; the day shift should have at least one, right?

Jon: But you’re a Bat! Bats don’t do that!

Duke: Actually, some species of bat, like fruit bats, are diurnal. I got precedent.

Jon, on the verge of a breakdown: Okay, okay, look. I have lost a great deal of sleep lately evading capture by the frankly ridiculous number of vigilantes active at night. You’re a teenager, a student with a very strenuous job. Surely you understand what sleep deprivation feels like.

Duke: I do.

Jon: Just please, please let me have my coffee.

[A weighted pause. Duke narrows his eyes, then softens.]

Duke: You get one cup.

Jon: Thank you.

[He makes his cup of coffee and lovingly inhales the smell. Just as he’s about to drink it, Duke bats it out of his hand like a cat. It smashes on the floor.]

Jon: YOU -

[Duke quickly cuffs him.]

Duke: Stop! Making! Trauma: The Inhalant! That’s all you have to do, man!

***

[Duke is fighting Poison Ivy in her greenhouse of killer plants.]

Duke, popping out the blades in his escrima sticks: Your vines are no match for my bat-chet blades!

Ivy: Great, another one who puns.

[She sends a new wave of vines, but he gracefully slices and weaves through them. Too gracefully. His reflexes are faster than even Batman’s. Curious as scientists are wont to be, she halts her attack, and then suddenly, silently strikes with a vine straight at the back of his head. He cannot possibly sense it coming. He ducks.]

Ivy: Wait… oh God, you can’t predict movements before they happen with crazy extreme ninja training like Black Bat, can you? I’m not fighting another Bat like that. No way.

Duke: Oh, no, no, no, don’t worry. I’m not nearly as well-trained as Black Bat. I just have superpowers.

Ivy: You what?

Duke: I’m a metahuman. I’ve got superpowers.

Ivy: But you’re a Bat! Bats don’t do that!

Duke: I get that a lot.

Ivy: Well, what superpowers?

Duke: I’m not telling you all about my powers - I’m literally fighting you - but basically I can process light differently. Part of that is seeing where it’s been, the past, and where it will be, the future. I call it ghost vision.

Ivy: How far into the past and future? Hours? Months? Years? Can you see before your birth or after your death? Can you predict other people’s deaths? Watch the rise and fall of civilizations?

Duke, whose ghost vision currently goes under a minute both ways: That’s for me to know and you to… (stares into the middle distance) I believe, never find out.

Ivy: (raises hands) I’ll go to Arkham.

***

[Duke kicks open the door to Edward Nygma's hideout.]

Duke: Give it up, Riddler, I've got a... whoa.

[He trails off as he takes the space in. There are papers - plans, to-do lists, riddles, ciphers, trap and gadget blueprints, maps and more - everywhere, in stacks, folders and scattered loose across every surface. A bin in the corner is overflowing with crumpled pages. Intricate model traps line a shelf, one fallen on the floor. One wall bears a large corkboard with green and purple strings connecting annotated pictures of the Batfamily, including a screenshot of Oracle's digital logo. Edward himself has not reacted whatsoever to Duke's entrance. He's hunched over at his desk, typing away at an expensive computer setup. On one side of him sit many energy drinks, on the other is a massive pile of empty cans. All this detail requires Duke's night vision to see, because the lights are off and the curtains are closed, the only light the computer's cold glow.]

Edward: (only briefly looking up to give him a haughty stare) Yes, yes, the Signal, I've heard. Rest assured, it will be my utmost pleasure to obliterate you in a battle of wits. I just need to finish a couple of things.

Duke: When was the last time you slept?

Edward: (slightly hysterical chuckle) Please. I have transcended my mortal weaknesses thanks to intense focus, indomitable drive and the miracle of stimulants, much as I presume you Bats do. You're in no position to lecture me on getting enough sleep. I mean, you're late, so you're clearly not on top of things.

Duke: What?

Edward: You're meant to be a daytime hero. It's a little late for that, isn't it?

Duke: (concerned) It's 8:00 AM.

[Edward blinks and looks at the clock on his screen. He frowns. He stands up, strides over to the window and opens the curtains, flinching at the bright morning light. Duke notices that he has deep bags under his eyes and looks even more tired than Jon did, but his movements are as energetic as ever. He stretches and winces from back ache.]

Edward: Ah. So it is. ...What day is it?

Duke: (more concerned) Monday?

Edward: Monday?!

Duke: Okay, you've clearly been in the zone for a while. And I know being autistic can make it hard to recognize and interpret your body's messages. When was the last time you ate?

Edward: None of your business. I'm perfect condition.

[He picks up another can. Duke punctures it with a batarang. Edward scoffs and throws it down in indignation.]

Duke: I don't think you should have any more of those. (scans the rooms with X-ray vision) Oh my God, there's no food in here. Did you forget to buy it? Listen, if you come quietly, I'll get you a full breakfast on the way to Arkham.

[Edward is distracted, rummaging through his rooms in search of food.]

Edward: Of course I have food, Duke. It's right... it's somewhere around... (finds the fallen model) oh, I was looking for this!

Duke: No, with my powers I - you know my identity?

Edward: (still distracted, talking increasingly fast) What, like it's hard? I know everyone's except Oracle and the Red Hood. If Jason had survived, he'd be a perfect fit, but he's dead. Now, true, Stephanie is still alive when I distinctly remember visiting her grave, but those are completely different situations. There was a motive to fake her death, to escape the criminal overlords she'd angered with that gang war; I cannot find any such benefit from Jason's faked death and relocation. Stephanie was gone for, like, a year. Jason has yet to return after most of a decade. Even -

Duke: You visited Steph's grave?

Edward: She was a brilliant adversary, I had to pay my respects. Anyway, even if Jason's death was somehow inexplicably faked, he wouldn't have chosen to live only as the Red Hood. Especially who the Red Hood was at first. That would mean sacrificing his close familial relationships and becoming his beloved father and brother's enemy. And why would he ever be a crime lord? It's a radical betrayal of all his values, and based on his backstory, he should resent organized crime. And Batman would never fight his own child. None of it makes any sense! But I can't figure out what else could work. Is he really just a random person the Bats took in in adulthood? So that's been weighing on me. And also -

[He trips over a folder and, weak and lightheaded, crashes to the floor. He's so exhausted that merely lying on a flat surface has him sleeping soundly in an instant, resting his head on a stack of paper. Duke stares at him incredulously.]

Duke: I'm buying you breakfast.

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plotwholls · 2 years

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Okay so I’ve literally been searching for two days to find this post, but I can’t, so if anyone can find me the post about the League trying to figure out how crazy Amity is, PLEASE send it my way bc jfc I hate not crediting people and this is going to GRATE ON MY NERVES. Anyway.

Basic premise is that the JL sees the town goes “uh,,, that’s sus” and decides that they can’t just bust in and try and figure out if they’re crazy. So. In order to be better accepted, what do they do?

Well, they make the worst possible decision that they didn’t know was dumb: they sent a shrink.

The principal cleared her throat. “And… you’re here to apply for our, uh… what did you say?”

“The school counsel—”

“Ah yes! That!”

Dinah tried to keep her expression neutral while she internally chanted “whatthefuck whatthefuck whattheffffuuuuuuccccckkkkkkkkkk—”

The principal seemed to chew on her apprehension for a minute before giving Dinah a wavering smile and rubber stamping it. “…You can start next Friday.”

“But it’s Saturday…? I can start Mon—”

“Thatwon’tbe—!” She cleared her throat, her smile tight, as if that could conceal her prior panic. “That… won’t be… necessary, Dr. Lance.” Principal Ishiyama gestured towards the door. “Besides. We’ll need the time to— fix up your office!”

Dinah smiled and nodded, but she noted to herself as she walked out of the reception how Ishiyama rushed to her secretary to begin whispering furiously.

Dinah saw how she was scared.

Dinah paused on the front steps, digging her phone out of her slacks’ pocket. She scrolled through her contacts for a moment before finally hitting call. She pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder as she started digging through her purse for her keys. As soon as it picked up, she announced, “Hey, babe! I got the job! I’m on the front steps of my new workplace!” She sing-songed. Oliver took the hint. “Oh? What the hell happened in forty minutes that has you calling me before you’re even in the car? Actually… wouldn’t it be twenty? Fifteen? Commute’s… what, twenty-five minutes? Still can’t believe Bat’s is putting you up in this shack—”

Dinah slipped into the drivers seat, shut and locked the car and switched her phone to the other ear. “Ishiyama was scared of me.”

“…What?” Oliver laughed a bit. “Darling, don’t get me wrong, you’re terrifying, and I love every inch of you for it, but… those are Canary vibes you’re talking about….”

Dinah turned the ignition, foot pressed hard on the breaks. “Then explain to me why I’m starting next Friday even though I told her that I was ready to start Monday— or why she jumped out of her skin when I tried to shake her hand? How about how she caved the moment I confirmed I was going for the counselor position and gave it to me without further questioning?”

Oliver got a bit more serious. “And you’re sure you were reigning in the Resting Bitch Face?”

Dinah rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m very sure that I was masking my ass off— and you know how good I am at that!”

“I know, hun,” Oliver soothes (it works, much to Dinah’s chargin and battered ego). “It’s worked on Superman and Batman. You caught your own Autism. Your mask is great, babe. Still prefer your murder vibes, though.”

Dinah grinned, her heart feeling achy and cheeks warm. “Well, yeah, that’s why I let you be my boyfriend.”

“And I thank God everyday you knocked some sense into my dumb ass— how about you go get us some safe foods and I’ll pull out the case packs again— we’ll try and figure out what’s going on, alright?”

Dinah smiled softly, her grip on the steering wheel softening, too. “Yeah, alright— when’s Roy gonna get here?” Dinah checked over her shoulder as she threw on her blinker. She turned back. “He should be up to date on anything we find.”

“He’s getting in later tonight,” Oliver told her, “and he’ll have already of eaten, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

Dinah smiled. “You’re so awesome.”

“I’ll try not to get a big head, but given how often you give out praise, that’s gonna be hard….”

Dinah laughed at the overly dramatic woe. She loved that about him— how he made her laugh like she was six again. “Okay, okay— I need to go, I’m driving— text me anything you want. Ask Roy, too.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll get started on the files, too, alright? Because that wasn’t ego stroking; she shouldn’t have been scared unless she knew who you were and she did something horrible.”

Dinah smiled like she was chocolate under a heat lamp. “Okay.” God, she hopes he can’t hear her freaking heart eyes.

“Okay,” He laughs. “I’m gonna go. I still have a sofa to get through this door.”

She laughs as she takes her turn. “Alright— be safe.”

“You, too. Love you.”

“Not quite there yet,” She tells him, still melting, “but I think I’m getting there.”

“Take all the time in the universe. Bye.”

“Bye.” God, that man makes her soft. Dinah screams a little in the back of her throat, wanting to thrash a bit (but that’s dangerous, so she’ll settle on the screaming).

(She’s going to need to send Batman a gift basket for this— a way for her to bond with her boyfriend’s son, make him feel validated, and let her manage some distance from her relationship to try and figure her head out? He’s getting a basket like none other. She’s gonna dig up Grandma’s cookie-brownie recipe and make him a butt-ton. And then she’s going to send the recipe to Agent A. …and so maybe she’s going to slip in a book on autism (because there’s no way he’s neurotypical) in there, too, but who’s gonna know, huh?)

Dinah floated through parking, and starting her walk to the store, but the floating quickly shifted into a mask as phones started going off in waves— all of them with the same ringtone, which would make others (strangers, from what she could tell) lean over to look at their neighbor’s phones once they realized it wasn’t theirs.

…And slowly, one by one, they began to turn to her. Dinah saw a lot of things on their faces. She faked a happy little twirl to get a look behind her, too.

Fear. Trepidation. Horror.

The most common one was what most would call a “threat,” but Dinah had always been one for specific language, and these looks weren’t threats.

They were promises.

They were swears upon their loved ones’ graves and everything they held dear.

They were telling her a very simple story with a very stony set of the face: “fuck this up, and you won’t live to fuck it up again. We won’t let you.”

Most importantly, it gave up that tiny little detail that made the puzzle fit. With a slightly more real (if more feral) grin, Dinah did a happy little job as she finally stepped into the store. It was such a simple little word, especially with a three letter modifier tacked in front, but it told her so, so much. It said, “We won’t let you….”

“Not again.”

#danny phantom #dp x dc #oliver queen #dinah lance #black canary #batman

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sweetielilie · 3 months

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Yan!itadori and Yan!megumi!! ☆⌒(＞。≪)

a/n: I had so much fun writing this lol!! yuuji my bby!!!

CW/Tags: platonic yandere, gn!reader, nonsorcerer!reader, stalker!yuuji, stalker!megumi, candid photos, breaking and entering, Megumi, Yuuji, and reader are friends,

Word Count: 1302

…click…

Yuuji glanced at his camera, admiring your beauty, you looked so pure, even in your sleep. He was so lucky that there was a tree and a window right in view of your bedroom, it felt like your house was just asking for Itadori to take pictures.

"Did you get a good one?" Asked Megumi, now climbing down the tree branches to get on Yuuji's branch. He wasn't really fond of stakeouts like this, honestly why bother when he can just send the dogs to watch you? It's not worth the risk of falling and breaking something.

"Yup! I think this is the best one yet!" Itadori beamed as he shoved the camera in Fushiguro's face, a sound asleep, peaceful you appearing in the tiny screen. You were beautiful, no wonder you capture both of their attention. The black haired sorcerer's eyes softened at the picture, his heart throbbing with love.

"Well, then our 'mission' here is over, let's go back to the dorms. I don't want Gojo catching our ass being stalkers." Megumi grunted, grabbing Itadori's hoodie, he didn't want you to catch on either. Hearing too many rustles of the tree could lead to suspicion from the neighbors too. Too risky.

"Nooo—let's enter Y/N's houuuse!!" Yuuji whined, grasping onto the camera as he looked at Megumi with pleading eyes.

"Are you crazy?!" Fushiguro berated in response, he already had swiped some meaningless things that though didn't matter to you, mattered the world to him. One of your shirts, a hair clip, a filled notebook you had for the past 3 years or so. The boy didn't need breaking into your house, you just needed to turn your back! "There's no way we're going to break into Y/N's house—"

pick…pick…

Fushiguro grumbled curses at Itadori as he tried his best to unlock your front door, his eyes squinting at the lock, trying to see if he's doing it right. "I swear to god if we get caught…"

As soon as Megumi said that, the door unlocked. Seriously, is the writer playing games with him right now (yes, yes i am)?! He peeked at the dark place, trying his best to make the door not screech with creaking. They were both very familiar with your house, lounging around it everytime they can. You weren't a sorcerer, so you thought that Megumi's dogs symbol thingy or the way they don't really open up about their jobs was just a weird quirk of theirs.

Yuuji inhaled the scent of your house. The candle you lit a few hours ago, the dinner you cooked, and your scent. He loved your smell, whenever he gave you a bear hug he sniffed your hair, what a sacred scent. He toyed with all kinds of clutter, ignoring the fact he was supposed to be quiet.

"If you make another sound, I'll kill you. And when you somehow get brought back to life I'll kill you again." Megumi threatened lectured Yuuji, grabbing his hoodie again. He stared at the pink haired boy with piercing eyes. But deep down, he was afraid that if he got caught, he'd lose you forever.

Then, the bedroom. The domain (pun completely intended) that you resided in. Laid in a deep sleep after another day of studying. You looked like royalty in a coma, waiting for your princes to save you. Yuuji peeked over, shadowing your presence. Oh to kiss those pretty little lips and wake you.

Megumi felt that you sleeping was less than a fairytale. It was a necessity. He didn't want his darling to have bags under your eyes. To have you get behind your classes due to your lack of rest. Still, just like Yuuji, he was mesmerized by how you retained your beauty in your slumber.

You'd soon be theirs, they'll be your princes. The princes that will worship you like you're more than royalty.

#gn!reader #yandere #f!reader #for you #gender neutral reader #m!reader #headcanons #male reader #yan!megumi #yan!fushiguro #yan!megumifushiguro #yan!yuuji #yan!itadori #yan!itadoriyuuji #yan!fushiguromegumi #yan!yuujiitadori #guys pls stop holding me hostage now…!!

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marveldcmistress · 2 years

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Henry Cavill’s Characters’ Zodiac Signs

This is (in my opinion) the zodiac vibes I get from each Henry Cavill character. I am not an astrologist, this is just based off my observations of each sign and the energy I get from these characters. If there’s a character I missed or you wanted to see on this list, let me know!!!!

So it’s basically canon that Sy is a bull, and understandable. He gives HELLA Taurus energy. He’s strong, sturdy, a little cocky, but only because he can back up all the hype. He can be stubborn as all hell, which is to be expect from the bullheaded Taurus (my brother was born in May and the boy will never budge in a fight). Negotiations during deployments is hell for his fellow comrades. And just like the grounded earth sign it takes awhile for him to soften up, but when he does, he would do ANYTHING for those he cares about, and that passion can be overwhelming to some. He’s a hard worker, but when he’s not overseas he’s DEFINITELY take some leisure time to himself, he deserves to be lazy! And don’t get started on a Taurus’ appetite. Just like the bull, I see Sy as a grazing type, munching on little snacks throughout the day, but will not hesitate to tear it up at dinner time, and his desert ;)

August is a Scorpio. I feel like this doesn’t need an explanation, but I’m gonna give you one anyway. As a CIA Agent/Terrorist, the man can’t trust anyone. Ever. Just like how a Scorpio takes forever to trust, he makes sure to know every detail about anyone he encounters. Scorpios also shroud themselves in mystery and secrecy. He’s proved time and again in the movie that he would kill to keep his secret diabolical plan from getting out. And it’s also cannon on tumblr that he’s obsessive. God help you if a Scorpio catches a liking to you, cause once they do, you are theirs FOREVER, whether you like it or not. Oh, and don’t even THINK about trying to have the control around August, it’s just not gonna happen.

Charles is a Leo, through and through. Those who meet him think he’s arrogant, self-centered, and in those first couple seasons, they were right. He’s definitely full of himself, but we do get to see little peeks at the insecurity he feels deep down at being born lower class. Leos are very insecure, though they try to hide it (trust me, all of our confidence is fake, coming from a Leo herself), but the way his face falls when his title (or lack of) is brought up in the first season, not to mention in the later seasons when he starts to contemplate his own actions and morals after doing what he did on Henry’s orders. Now, I know what some might say, “but Tay, Leos are so loyal!” And they are! His infidelity to Margaret was born of his own ego and arrogance. But his loyalty to HENRY?? After all the bullshit he put Charles through? Only a Leo could have a heart so big as to still love and advise a friend who treated them so. And the way he lights up a room! Much like the sun, Leo’s ruling planet, Charles lit up court. He always looks good, outfits pristine and his hair always so perfectly groomed. I can go on forever, but Imma stop here.

Walter just ooooozes Virgo energy. Work-aholic, perfectionist, never relaxes. Sometimes a little blunt, but only because they don’t have time to sugarcoat shit. But also like the earth sign, he’s consistent. You can always trust he will do the right thing and be there at the right time. Can also smell bullshit from a mile away, which is a wonderful skill set for his job. I also feel like he’s really good at budgeting and money management.

Mikey is a Sagittarius, there’s no changing my mind. His wild and care-free personality really shines through in the movie. And just like Walter he’s blunt. “He’s dead Chelsea, time move on.” Only a Sagg has the audacity! And the entire movie all he is concerned with is having a good time and hooking up. In my limited interactions with Sagittarius men, that’s really all they cared about. I feel like if he wasn’t killed off in the movie, he could have definitely evolved into a more defined character.

Geralt just gives Capricorn energy. So focused on his work, and very stoic in his emotions. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel them, he just buries them, deep, deep, DEEP down. And just like Scorpio it takes ALOT for him to open up. But when he does, BOYYYY. Fuck with the people he loves. I’ve also never met a Cap that isn’t determined to do EVERYTHING on their own (my sister is the best example. Full time vet student on top of two full time jobs, constantly refusing help when offered). He’s definitely an over-thinker. He stays up at night thinking through every scenario and preparing for any situation. But he’s sturdy and strong and loyal, if a little abrupt and abrasive at times. Hates people and gets along so much better with animals, and again, I’ve never met a Capricorn who like human beings over dogs, or in his case, Roach.

Sherlock is an Aquarius. It just makes the most sense to me. Not good with emotions at all, and this is coming from experience of having an Aquarius mother and dating an Aquarius man for three months. He’s an intellectual, and individual, and values that individuality. Not to mention the job that is very outside of the social norms. Aquarians are uninterested in being like the rest, which is a perfect description for Sherlock. Also doesn’t miss a single detail, can pick up on the slightest change in energy. Most people see Aquarius as strange, almost alien-like, and Sherlock for sure stands out. He values his solitude and alone time. I feel like if he were to be in modern times, would hella ghost someone if he felt like they were getting to close and encroaching on his privacy.

Clark Kent. My sweet baby, my Kansas farm boy. He’s a Libra, absolutely. His sense of justice and constant battle for balance wouldn’t allow him to be anything else. His need to use his powers for good to save people shines just as bright as the sunlight he gets his strength from is sometimes overshadowed by his darker side of just finally snapping and becoming the GOD he knows he is. And have you ever seen a pissed off Libra? Those red eyes are not just for show. Momma Kent did a good job of raising our boy to be a good-hearted man, but that Kryptonian blood will not relent so easily. But he loves deeply and won’t hesitate to make decisions when it comes to those he loves. Making sure they are well and safe and happy is not something he has to make a pros and cons list for.

I know I’ve made a post saying I think Napoleon is a Leo, and I still kinda feel that way. But I can also see him being a Gemini. Now the big stereotype surrounding Geminis is that they’re two-faced. But in reality they’re a mirror. The energy you give them is the energy you are gonna receive. Being a spy, he has to learn to be a chameleon, he changes with every environment but can also blend in and be unseen. He’s only loyal to the CIA because he has to be, you can bet your lucky stars when those chains are gone he can flip the script on them in a heartbeat. But also like a typical Gemini he’s charming, knows exactly how attractive he is and uses that to his full advantage.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry!sherlock #captain syverson #captain sy #august walker #detective walter marshall #Napoleon Solo #Henry!Holmes #geralt of rivia #hellraiser mike #zodiac signs #astrology #fan fic #fan fiction

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saintmurd0ck · 7 months

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RHI!!! A million congrats on 2.5k, I can't think of anyone who deserves it more 🥰 and so glad you're back and feeling ok! For the train, I'd loveee to take a trip to 86th st with Mikey Kinsella and “please, for the love of god, shut up for once.” “why don’t you come over here and make me?” i think the way you write it would be SO gorgeous and interesting ❤️ and also because im a slut, i just know id LOSE it over a stop at Heuston Station with Fratt x reader and ❛ you want gentle? wrong fucking address. ❜ Anyways I'm so so excited to read everything you do for this event 🥰 congrats again!!

all fired up

join my sleepover | main masterlist

pairing: michael kinsella x reader

warnings: amanda slander, a tiny bit of spice (minors DNI), aggressive michael / reader, yes we're a little mean but dont worry he gets the upper hand ;)

a/n: christie my gorgeous, thank you so so so much for dropping in 🥺 i hope you like this one, and i am gonna post the fratt request in a separate ask >:) btw i am amending the prompts to better fit the characters i am writing for, so i hope you dont mind xoxo

Michael’s silent rage simmers in your periphery as he leans against the wall like a fallen angel, gritting his teeth, letting his chest rise and fall in short, controlled bursts. Everything in the room is setting him off: the clicking of your pen, the faint hum of the air-conditioner, and the distant noise of traffic from the main road.

Unfortunately for him, you’re far from caring today; not when you’ve scraped together the business proposal of a lifetime. One that could easily retire you in the blink of an eye.

You’ve worked your ass off to coordinate this, so isn’t it only fair that Michael, being the other major stakeholder in this business, quits his grumbling? It’s as if he can’t — or won’t — comprehend what this means if this works out. If you negotiate your way through this successfully, with Michael there or not, the Kinsellas land on top. They’ll control Dublin, and possibly the whole of Ireland, with opportunities to plant roots and spread vines across all the major networks in Europe. And as you’re the only decision maker not married to — or even fucking — anyone in the family, you’ve had to prove your worth, a thousand times more so. Simply being Michael’s closest friend and confidante didn’t sit well with the others, but you’ve made yourself far more capable than anyone in this business.

And this deal will cement you into the Kinsella hall of fame.

You cut a glance to where he’s standing, a momentary pang of empathy softening your expression. He’s exhausted from today, and it isn’t just the circles under his eyes that demonstrate it. You know his tells better than anyone; in fact, you know him so well that just by judging his body language, you can deduce who he’s been with, what he’s been up to, and what he tries hard to conceal. Right now, and at your disdain, you can see Amanda written all over him. It’s obvious in the way he’s carrying himself, with his chin pointed downwards, the tension almost shrugging his shoulders. Even his skin gives it away, from the warmth in his cheeks to the flush at the tips of his ears.

“Let me guess,” you sigh, breaking the silence, “Amanda thinks you’re not doin’ a good enough job, and you shouldn’t be workin’ with me?” Saying her name is enough to set you off, but you do your best to diffuse the situation, to bring Michael back to the present.

His eyes flick to yours at the mention of her name, and you grimace inwards at the sharp stab to your gut. “Somethin’ like tha’.”

It confirms what you suspected; that he and Amanda had met up today, for purposes you try not to burden yourself with. It isn’t your business what they get up to, or how many times you notice her silhouette beyond the frosted glass of his front door. 5 times this week, and it’s only Wednesday, you think, chewing on your lip.

Unease courses through your veins, and so you go to do what’s natural, and sweep the thoughts under the proverbial rug in your mind. You gesture at the mountain of paperwork in front of you. “Are you gonna help me, Michael?”

His only response is a delicate muscle feathering in his jaw, and for some reason, it sends a lick of angry heat up your spine. The deadline to the deal looms in front of you like a ticking time-bomb, and all he can do is stay silent, and God forbid, mope about Amanda?

Your mouth thins as you take a moment to decide if you want to add to his anguish. To deliver an insult worthy of his attention. There’s a rush that flows through you, a sick kind of satisfaction, that tug the corners of your mouth upwards. If it were Eric, or Jimmy, or even Amanda, he would’ve lost his shit by now. He’d probably have stormed out and sulked home, making sure his gun was accessible from beneath his jacket at all times. His heart would thunder in his ears, itching for a fight with some unfortunate soul who’d then be promptly taken out by none other than the Magician.

Your voice rings out across the room, coming out more confident than you’d played out in your head. “She refuse to blow you today or what?”

Michael’s brows furrow together. “What did you say?”

“I asked you something, Michael. Are you pissed because Amanda didn’t open her legs for you?”

His mouth twists into a sneer. “I’d stop talkin’ if I were you.”

But you return his glare, your blood thrumming with challenge. “Actually, I commend her for doin’ that. ‘Cause I wouldn’t want to fuck someone so miserable either.”

He’s in front of you in a couple of strides, seething cold fury as his voice drops an octave. When he talks, his breath fans your face. “I said stop fuckin’ talkin’.”

You swallow, feeling your chest heave as some unchecked part of you — the part that’s scared of no-one — takes over. “Or what?” You pout, cocking your head to the side. “Are you gonna run back to Amanda and tell her how mean I’ve been to you?”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” he spits, grabbing you by the collar, shoving you until the back of your thighs press up against the desk.

Your retort comes out just before he lowers his mouth to yours. Just before he wedges his thick hand between your legs. “Why don’t you make me?”

#michael kinsella #michael kinsella x reader #kin amc #michael kinsella smut #x reader #all aboard the saintmurd0ck express #rhi writes 💻

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soul-wanderer · 1 year

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06x15//What Are You Willing To Lose - weekly recap

I don’t think I can cover everything in this recap, because man, there’s so much happening in this episode and I have a whole lot of feelings and thoughts about certain plots, but let’s try to get to it (aka almost one week later because man, that ep was a lot, and then I got sick, hence the slight delay, so consider this a refresher after the break between eps):

- Andy telling Ross “I can’t afford to lose you” - can we talk about this, please? Can we? This still hits me right in the feels a week later, and I don’t think I’m gonna be over that anytime soon, thanks for asking

- Ross being genuinely surprised that Andy and Maya did not tell anyone else about the photos (apart from Carina) and that they’re on her side - that moment just had it all, and I love that they have them sticking together instead of them tearing each other apart. Ross clearly did not expect that, probably didn’t think she’d ever deserve this type of loyalty, but Andy and Maya still show up for her, and my god, am I here for this. And Andy is totally right that they need someone like Ross in a position like that.

- Andy and Travis both trying to be a good friend to the other, and it’s just the silliest and cutest thing, and I’m here for that friendship, too (especially because “hos over bros”), especially the scene in the end where Travis is there for Andy

- I’m gonna try to keep the Theo as captain recap short, but let’s just say: He was rightfully upset about the house being a trap for both the people living there and his team. It’s his job to keep the team and everyone else safe and out of burning buildings alive, and that job was made impossibly harder when he figured out what was going on. It’s not his job to be empathetic or to counsel anyone at the height of an emergency, BUT we see him backpedal one moment later, when he sees how desperate this woman is and IMMEDIATELY softens and tells her they were gonna do their best, before going back to work and that’s really all that needs to be said about this situation. Same with him having to make the decision to leave Warren behind - Ross was right there and watching him, and he cannot possibly risk more lives to save the life of one team member (+ it’s protocol, too), even if the mere idea of leaving someone behind hurts. He would have made the call, and he would have been right about it, too

- Ross owning her “mistake” in front of a bunch of dudes and giving a goddamn fantastic speech while she is at it. Man, that episode really gave us all of that. I mean: “You know, in the short time that I have been here, I have seen this union look the other way when sloppy firefighters who should have retired years ago made fatal mistakes on the job. I've seen it allow a serial sexual harasser retire with full pension instead of face discipline. And this is where you want to draw the line? [...] No, I am pro-union! I am anti a system that has a million things wrong with it. [...] I fought to drag this department kicking and screaming into the 21st century, to make your jobs safer and better", they really gave us that and I love it

- Maya being cute on her date with Carina, that’s all. That smile is gonna kill us all one day, and it’s gonna be a fucking fantastic death

- I will never, ever forgive the editors/producers for making these goddamn awful cuts between Maya and Carina in the shower and a man fucking dying in a burning house. I mean, what the hell? That was a downright horrible decision.

- Andy. My goodness, Andy. And her trauma. Like, finally? They’re finally acknowledging that trauma doesn’t simply disappear? Thank goodness. Thanks to whoever remembered. And thank you for the portrayal of such raw and heartbreaking emotions when Andy told Warren, “You fell through the roof”, that just about wrecked me in a million different ways, but in a good way, so thank you for that

- Ross telling Theo he did the right thing. Thank you for that, too. And I guess Jack confirming that wasn’t too bad either.

- And they acknowledged Carina’s trauma too, and the contrast was so beautifully portrayed. Carina wants them to be okay. She wants their marriage to be okay. But it isn’t. And she can’t pretend, and she realizes that and realizes they got more work ahead of them. And Maya just...acknowledges Carina’s pain and is there for her. It’s heartbreakingly beautiful, that’s all. Now, let’s hope Carina finally accepts some professional help as well.

- Sullivan being an ass. Honestly, will there ever be a week where I don’t have to type this out? I can only hope so, because that man is getting on my nerves, badly.

- Theo and Vic are not communicating well right now. That doesn’t make them toxic, that doesn’t mean their relationship is about to end, this doesn’t mean that they’re awful human beings. It just means they’re both fighting their own battles and they suck at talking and they’re being human and sometimes relationships just are like that, okay? They’ve been through so much and they’ve come so far, this will not be their breaking point (or at least not forever)

- last but not least: I am not here for them trying to create fake drama between Theo, Vic and Travis via that “old friend” they introduced. They need to stop recycling that storyline in Shondaland, before I flip some tables, seriously.

#Station 19 #Andy Herrera #Theo Ruiz #Maya Bishop #Carina DeLuca #Travis Montgomery #Vic Hughes #06x15 #weekly recap #that was long #oops

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itsbrandy · 7 months

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Title: Wildest Dreams

Summary: After escaping her small hometown with her best friend, Bee embarks on a daring journey in the heart of the Golden Age of Hollywood. With big dreams of becoming a star, she's thrust into the spotlight when she's offered a lead role opposite Dieter Bravo, a charismatic but troubled movie star known for his hedonistic lifestyle As they come together on the set of the sweeping romance film, their lives become entwined in a complex dance of ambition, redemption, and love that defies the glittering facade of Tinseltown.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Original Female Character

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, drug use, alcohol use, partying, mentions of sex, old timey sexism, additional warnings to be added.

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: OFC is bi like Dieter. This story was inspired by, as you can see, the Wildest Dreams music video. I just had to see this story explored with Dieter. There is pov switching. Hope you like it!

Chapter 1 : Let's Get Out of This Town

Bee

“I’d like two slices of cherry pie and a glass of milk, please.”

Bee shook her head and tapped her pen against her notepad. The man sitting in the booth in front of her looked offended that she’d spaced out.

He was the wealthier type—nice clothes, a nice hat, a nice watch. He could be a talent scout. Bee gulped and put on her most dazzling smile. Like any wannabe Hollywood starlet, Bee knew that a nice smile behind red-painted lips went a long way in this town.

“I’m so sorry. Could you please repeat that?” Bee asked.

The man’s expression changed. His dark brows unfurrowed, and his eyes softened. “They working you too hard here?” he asked, setting the menu down.

“Um,” Bee cast a sideways glance at her boss. She could feel Steve’s eyes burning a hole into the side of her face from his perch behind the bar. She’d lingered too long at this table. “No, sir. Not at all. I think it’s just the heat. I really am sorry. What can I get for you?”

“Not used to the heat here in the City of Angels?” he asked.

Bee tapped her pen against her notepad. “No, not yet.”

She hated revealing that she was an out-of-towner, but she was an easy mark. These people could smell new blood like a shark in the water of Venice Beach. “What was it you wanted?” she asked again.

“Well, after seeing that pretty smile, I think I’ve changed my mind,” the man said. He held out a hand with a black business card. “I’m a talent scout. I’m looking for bright, fresh faces like you.”

“Oh, I’m not an actress,” Bee lied. She was, but Bee couldn’t be caught talking to scouts. Not at work, anyway. The grocery store, the parking lot, or anywhere else was fair game, according to Steve, but he would fire any waitress on the spot if they entertained talent scouts on the job. “I’m just a waitress, sir.”

Steve hated the scouts picking off his employees, and if he saw the exchange, the scout risked being kicked out of the restaurant. Bee would be without a job, and God knew she needed this job to pay the bills.

The man gave Bee a knowing look. He saw right through her lie and extended his arm with the business card in hand.

“Well, here’s my card,” the man said with a grin. “My name is Daniel. Give me a call if you change your mind. Try to do it away from your boss, though. He doesn’t look like he wants to lose you. You must be a good waitress.”

Bee quickly tucked the card into the front pocket of her apron. “And your order, sir?” Bee asked impatiently.

Steve had definitely seen, she thought. He must have seen it.

“Two slices of cherry pie and a glass of milk, please,” Daniel repeated his order.

“Two?” Bee inquired. “You meeting with someone?”

“No, miss,” Daniel said. “I just think this might be a good spot to hang around for a little bit.” He winked, and Bee scribbled down his order.

She looked over at the bar again to see if Steve was still watching her. Luckily, he’d moved on to cleaning the bar top and chatting with an older couple who sat there.

“I’ll have your order to you right away,” Bee said before tucking her notepad into her apron and leaving Daniel’s table.

She put the order in for one of the cooks to cut two slices of still-warm cherry pie and snuck around to the bathroom, but someone stopped in her way.

“Where are you going?” Nancy asked.

Nancy stepped around the corner from the kitchen with her hands on her hips, her light brown hair perfectly curled back away from her face. Bee couldn’t stop herself from looking at Nancy’s perfectly red-painted lips. She always perfected the cupid’s bow just right.

Bee still wasn’t sure if she stared out of jealousy or desire, but her roommate was straight as an arrow. They’d been friends since childhood, and Nancy had never given Bee any indication that she was interested in her.

“Bathroom,” Bee said, rolling her eyes. “You’re so nosy.”

“What did he give you?” Nancy asked. “Was that a card? Is he a talent scout? He looks like a talent scout.”

“Shh, Nanc, are you crazy?” Bee asked. “Steve could hear you.”

Nancy giggled and grabbed Bee’s hand.

“Come,” she said and dragged Bee all the way to the small, single-room bathroom. “It’s none of his business.”

Locking the door behind them, Nancy grabbed both of Bee’s hands. They felt warm in her own, and Bee could feel her heart thundering in her chest. What would someone think if they caught the two of them hiding out in a single bathroom? They wouldn’t have enough money to pay their rent if she and Nancy both got fired.

“Show me the card,” Nancy insisted. Her eyes were bright and captivating. “Please, who is he?”

“I don’t know,” Bee said. “I haven’t even looked yet.”

Nancy rolled her eyes and shoved her hand in Bee’s apron pocket.

“Give me that,” she said, pulling the black card out of the pocket. “Oh my! Good heavens, Bee, are you serious?”

“What? What?” Bee asked, trying to snatch the card away from Nancy. “Who is he?”

Nancy showed Bee the card. There wasn’t much information on it, but the card was printed in neat script with gold foiling on every letter.

Daniel Jones

Senior Casting Director

Paramount Pictures

And then, beneath, a phone number.

“Are you going to call him?” Nancy asked. “Bee, you have to call him. This could be your big break!”

“I’m not sure,” Bee said. “I don’t know if I believe that he really works for Paramount.”

Sure, the man looked wealthy. But Bee had been warned more than enough times to count that fake scouts existed to prey on women. Bee had very few acting roles, mainly in a local theatre back home. Her resume wasn’t exactly stacked enough for a Paramount role, no matter how small.

Los Angeles was a dog-eat-dog world, and right now, Bee and Nancy were both very, very small dogs.

“Paramount is huge. It’s the biggest studio right now,” Nancy said. Her blue eyes were wide with excitement. “Even if it’s a scam, it would be worth giving him a call.”

“I don’t know, Nancy,” Bee said. But she couldn’t argue with that reasoning. Even if it was a scam, Bee needed more roles. She needed more exposure if she was ever going to get her big break in Hollywood.

“We’ll fight more about this at home,” Nancy teased. “Don’t want the boss man to get suspicious.”

Nancy washed her hands, and Bee followed her lead. Before she left the bathroom, Bee had the thought to tuck the business card inside the lining of her bra rather than to risk it in her pocket.

“Thanks, Bee, you’re a lifesaver,” Nancy said loudly as they exited the bathroom together.

“Of course, Nancy,” Bee said, resisting the urge to laugh. Nancy was so good with her scheming. Steve wouldn’t dare question “women’s troubles.” He’d rather be caught dead than inquire.

“Thanks, Benny,” Bee said to the cook as she grabbed the scout’s order from the window. Benny gave her a starry-eyed look rather than responding.

Bee delivered both slices of cherry pie and the glass of milk to Daniel, the scout, careful not to make any conversation with him, and returned to her position near the bar to oversee her other tables.

The diner was mostly empty due to it being late on a Monday morning. People were at work, and housewives only brought their children in past lunchtime. Silver Screen Pie and Diner was a slightly upscale type of place, but it still followed all of the general rules of most diners.

Today, she only had the scout and an elderly couple to oversee, while Nancy had a pair of teens cutting class and a solo older man. It’d be a tough day on her wallet for tips, but the meager hourly pay was still worth it.

“Is that a scout?” Steve asked when Bee returned to the bar. He stood with his arms crossed behind the bar and glared at the scout from across the way.

“You know, I’m not sure,” Bee lied sheepishly. She grabbed a rag and started to wipe down the bar, wiping at its surface in circular motions.

“I just wiped it down,” Steve said. “It’s still wet.”

“Oh,” Bee said, stopping her cleaning. “Well, it’s good to be thorough.”

“No wasting time,” Steve said, stepping forward to hover over her. “Why don’t you go ahead and wipe down the kitchen floor?”

Wiping down the kitchen floor was the last thing Bee wanted to do. The kitchen floor was notoriously nasty and took forever to mop. If she washed the kitchen floor, she wouldn’t be able to take tables for at least an hour.

Bee grimaced. “I won’t be able to watch my tables then.”

“I know you were talking to him, and he’s a scout,” Steve grumbled. “You’re lucky I can’t afford to throw out good business on a slow Monday. Otherwise, I would.”

Steve stared her down, and Bee almost cracked under the pressure. But then she thought about how Nancy would react to this shakedown. Nancy was brave. She would continue to lie until she couldn’t anymore.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Bee said, playing dumb. “But Steve, if I can’t watch my tables, I won’t be able to make us more money.”

“Nancy will take them, then,” Steve said coldly. “Go. Do the kitchen floor. Now.”

“I–” Bee opened her mouth to speak, but she knew she was already on thin ice with her boss. She really did need the diner job even though the money was awful.

It was flexible enough for auditions and paid more than most places, but still, she and Nancy were rubbing together pennies by the end of the month. They were just lucky that Los Angeles wasn’t cold. Otherwise, they’d be freezing this winter without money for heat.

Bee tossed the rag back into the bin and headed to the kitchen without another word. As she left, she caught Nancy’s eyes for long enough to mouth “Sorry.” Nancy just shrugged. They shared their money anyway, so it wasn’t like Bee would be losing out on any tips she collected in Bee’s absence.

After just five minutes of mopping, Nancy snuck her way back into the kitchen to join Bee with a mischievous look on her face.

“Bee, he left,” she whispered.

“Huh?” Bee asked, looking up from the dirty swirl of grime on the floor.

“The scout left as soon as I was reassigned to his table,” Nancy said quietly. “It’s almost like he was just here for you. Left his cherry pie untouched and everything. Only one bite taken.”

“Maybe the pie was just terrible,” Bee said miserably. She squeezed the dirty water from the mop out into the bucket, and the water ran dark brown instead of clear.

“Or maybe you were all he needed to see. You have to call him when we get home,” Nancy said. “Promise me?”

Nancy did that thing again where she put her hands right on her hips, all sassy, but Bee wasn’t able to look at her for long.

Steve entered the kitchen from around the corner. His glasses were practically fogged up from how pissed he was. His usually pasty face was blotchy and red, and his mustache quivered with his fury.

“Out! Both of you!” Steve shouted. “I’ve warned you both enough times. No scouts, no Hollywood dreams, no nothing. You can dream about spreading your legs for the camera on your own time but not here. Not in my business.”

“Steve, it wasn’t Bee,” Nancy protested. “I swear, Bee had nothing to do with it.”

“Out!” He yelled again, and Bee dropped the mop out of her hands in fear. The wooden handle banged against the floor with a loud clack, which made her and Nancy both jump.

“I didn’t—” Bee stammered. But it was a lie, and Steve already saw right through their lies.

“What’s happening here?” Benny asked, returning from grabbing more milk from the refrigerator. Benny was sweet. He was innocent and kind. Bee couldn’t stand to watch him get punished for intervening on their behalf.

“I did,” Bee fessed up. “I took the card. I have his number. He was a talent scout.”

Steve smiled dangerously. “I knew it.”

“Benny, I’m going to need you to help me wait tables for the rest of the day,” Steve said.

“We won’t have any more waitresses for a while.”

“Sir, I swear it wasn’t Bee,” Nancy begged. “Please, don’t punish her for what I was doing.”

“I don’t care who did what,” Steve said. “You’re both done. Turn in your uniforms tomorrow. I’ll have your last paycheck in the mail as soon as I can.”

“But Steve, payday is tomorrow,” Nancy said. “We have bills to pay.”

Steve shrugged. “You both knew consulting with talent scouts was a fireable offense. Now get the fuck out of my restaurant.”

Bee looked at Nancy, whose red lips were puckered. Words of protest were held behind them, but she didn’t dare say them. Bee had never seen Nancy so defeated in all the years she’d known her.

They grew up together, went through high school together, and moved out to the big city. Never once did Nancy not stand up for what she believed in. But this was a fight that was unable to be won, and Nancy knew it. Bee knew it, too. She untied her apron and tossed it on the dirty kitchen floor. Then, she grabbed Nancy’s hand and pulled her along as they left the restaurant and walked out into the Los Angeles heat.

####

Dieter

“Dieter, do you have time for a few questions?” A reporter asked as soon as Dieter left the studio. The early afternoon sun had risen to a peak in the sky, causing him to squint. Dieter pulled his sunglasses case from his pocket and retrieved his shades.

No, he thought crankily. I sure don’t.

Appearances were important in Hollywood, though. Dieter couldn’t be seen treating people badly—it was bad for his image. Every minute detail of his contract was handcrafted to catch him in a public slipup.

“Sure,” Dieter said, putting on his sunglasses. He put on an easy smile and turned on the charm. His head was pounding. Early symptoms of withdrawal made his head throb and his mouth taste metallic.

He’d need a hit and fast unless he wanted to start puking. Ladies weren’t a fan of vomit breath. Neither were men, for that matter.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Bravo,” the reporter said. “So, I see you are exiting Paramount Studios. Are you here for a role? Have you been rehearsing?”

“No, I’m not, actually,” Dieter said. “I’m actually here for an audition.”

“Oh wow! Do you think you got it?”

“Not sure,” Dieter said with a wink. “But I do hope so.”

“Can you tell me more about the project?” the interviewer answered.

“Maybe some other time,” Dieter said, hoping to keep things mysterious.

By the time Dieter got home, his head was screaming in pain. He never brought pills with him when he went to the studio. It just wasn��t considered kosher, and Dieter had his strict agent contracts signed that forbade him from getting high in public.

That audition was a drag. Really it was a walk in the park, and his agent had already hinted that the role was in his hands.

The woman they’d cast for the leading lady spot was awful, though. She’d been stiff as a board when he kissed her. Not all the charm and flirtation in the world could have made her work well with him in that scene. If she was the reason he didn’t get the role… well, Paramount Pictures was bound to have a flop on its hands.

His phone rang, loud and annoying, setting off alarm bells in his head. He needed drugs, and now. The phone would have to wait.

He walked past the phone in the kitchen and straight to the living room, where a suede couch sat in front of a table with a wooden box atop it. The box was the key to his happiness. Pills, coke, and all the accoutrements he needed to get a fix all lay in one nice, decorative box.

Dieter sat on the couch and opened a new bottle of pills from his box. He crushed up two underneath a recipe book his stylist had out for show and snorted up the powder, letting out a sigh as the sting replaced the dull ache in his head.

“Shouldn’t have waited so long,” he mumbled to himself as the rush kicked in.

The phone rang again in the kitchen, its tone somehow louder and more insistent.

“I’m coming,” Dieter snarled. He pulled himself up off the couch and marched over to the phone. The receiver felt cool in his hand as he picked it up, and the room started to spin just as he answered.

“Hello,” he slurred into the receiver. “Dieter.”

“Are you hosting a party tonight?” the voice on the other end asked.

“Depends on whose asking,” Dieter said. “I wish my friends had phone manners.”

The person on the other end laughed. “It’s John.”

John. Oh, Dieter loved John. He’d spent days tangled up in the sheets with John and would gladly spend more of them. John always had the prettiest girlfriends, too. He’d bring them around when he wanted Dieter to have a taste of them, too. And they often would—three or more consensual adults in Dieter’s massive bed.

Come on, he slept in two kings pushed together for a reason. How else could you throw a good party?

“I wasn’t going to, but now I might,” Dieter groaned. “I had an audition today with a friend of yours. It has me in the mood for drinking.”

“You’re always in the mood for drinking,” John laughed.

“I mean, it was horrible,” Dieter clarified. “The audition couldn’t have gone worse.”

“Well, I can handle your guest list if you need a hand,” John said. “I’ve got a list of people who came to my birthday party last week. It was a real rager. So many hot women, I think I was hard the entire time.”

If Dieter were sober, he would have caught onto the fact that he’d obviously been left off said guest list. He hadn’t been invited to John’s birthday. But these days, Dieter was too far gone to notice that his friends had slowly but surely been cutting him out.

In fact, he hadn’t seen or heard from John in weeks.

“Mary Alice can’t act worth a damn,” Dieter was still stuck on the audition. “I kissed her for that audition, and she just stood there. No hands in my hair, nothing.”

“Ugh,” John said. “You love hands in your hair.”

“You’re damn right, I do love hands in my hair,” Dieter slurred. “Come over.”

“I will,” John said, a challenge in his voice. “But I’m bringing people. Do you have stuff?”

Dieter looked back at the box on his couch. Not enough stuff that he was willing to share…but he could always get more after today.

“Sure, yeah,” Dieter said. “I’ve got stuff. Bring bottles, though. I’m running low on vodka.”

“We can’t have that,” John teased. “I’ll be there around 9. I’ll bring vodka.”

“And women?” Dieter pouted.

“Yes, women,” John said.

John ended the conversation, and Dieter hung up the phone and made his way back to the couch. He crushed and snorted up another pill and laid back on the couch, waiting for John and the other partygoers to arrive.

He looked up at the clock. It was only 1 o’clock in the afternoon.

Time to kill, Dieter thought.

####

Bee

Bee and Nancy were sweaty by the time they returned to their apartment, high on adrenaline and nerves. They chose to walk, knowing that together, they’d both lost their only sources of income. Even two bus tickets would land them further in the red.

“We’ll need to get ahold of the paper. I have some change saved up to buy tomorrow’s paper,” Bee said when they opened the door.

“Why do we need the paper?” Nancy asked.

“For the Help Wanted ads,” Bee said. “We’ll need new jobs as soon as possible.”

Nancy nodded. Her light eyes looked a little haunted. “I’m not moving back home.”

Bee gulped. Her memories of small-town life were not pleasant. She’d much rather be a small fish in a big pond than a tadpole in a puddle.

“We’re not moving back home. We’re going to make it,” Bee said.

“Good,” Nancy said, walking to her room to change out of her now-useless waitress uniform. “Hey, why tomorrow’s paper?”

“We don’t have today’s,” Bee said. It was 1 o’clock, and she was too tired to make the walk to the store and risk them being out of today’s paper.

“I’ll be right back,” Nancy said.

Nancy knocked on their neighbor’s door and sweetly asked if they could borrow today’s newspaper. She was always more bold than Bee was, more willing to put herself out there. If there was anyone who was a natural for Hollywood, it was Nancy.

Bee felt like she was struggling through every day in this city. She had trouble asking waitresses to remove the onions from her cheeseburgers. She’d rather just pick them off than have to inconvenience them.

“Thank you,” Bee said when Nancy handed her the newspaper.

She grabbed a pen and sat on the couch. Their living room was mostly bare. Their couch was a streetside find that Nancy had convinced a couple of college boys to help them haul back to their apartment. It was threadbare, with a huge hole in the back that Bee had tried to stitch more times than she could count.

Bee went through the newspaper, flipping through its pages and circling through waitressing jobs in the ‘Help Wanted’ section. Some gigs were ones Nancy would be good for, while others would be ones she was better suited for.

Nancy grew up with a big family back home. A job at a daycare or a school might be a great opportunity for more money. The only problem was that those jobs were decidedly less flexible. If Nancy worked at a school, she’d be less likely to pick up the rare auditions she had.

“Go change before you do that,” Nancy insisted. “Come on, I’ll make lunch.”

“I need to make a plan at least,” Bee said. “We’re going to make this work.”

Nancy’s eyes were gentle but sad.

“We have two weeks 'til rent is due, Bee,” Nancy said. “We have time to take a breath.”

Bee wasn’t convinced. She wasn’t alive during the crash of the 20s, but she’d heard enough stories about the financial crisis from her parents that she was traumatized by it. Being a struggling artist was one thing—being homeless in a big city like L.A.? A completely different story.

Bee was supposed to be the responsible one of the two of them. Years ago, when she and Nancy had finally made the decision to get out of their small town and venture out to the West Coast, Nancy’s parents had made Bee promise she would keep her safe. Getting fired from the diner was the exact opposite of keeping their daughter safe.

“I just need to do this, Nanc,” Bee lied. “It’ll make me feel better.”

But it wouldn’t make her feel better. Not really. Bee wouldn’t feel better until they had income. In order to have income, they needed to have new jobs. Ones with stability, ones that they could depend on to keep them safe. Living alone in a large city as two single women was dangerous. Living on the street could have them dead. There were serial killers here, murderers here.

Bee circled another possible fit for Nancy, but she failed to connect the shape all the way around. Nancy’s hand was on her hand, stopping the circle from making a full connection.

“What?” Bee asked. Her heart pounded in her throat, fluttering arrhythmia.

“Call the casting man,” Nancy said.

Bee’s eyes widened. Calling the talent scout was the least of their priorities. She should be calling every diner in Los Angeles, not Daniel from Paramount Pictures.

“I’m serious,” Nancy said. “What do you have to lose now? Before, you were scared that Steve would find out. Well, guess what? Steve did find out. That ship has already sailed. Now, you might as well make a go at it.”

“What if it’s not real?” Bee said. “What if he’s one of those scary men we’ve been warned about.”

There were always rumors in the city about fake casting directors taking advantage of their ability to lure unassuming girls in. Bee was always more wary of them than Nancy was—it was just the nature of their relationship.

Bee was the responsible one, Nancy was the one who took risks. Together, they were an unstoppable pair. They’d made it so far, and that was saying something. Moved into the city on their own, secured an apartment, and secured jobs…at some point.

Nancy gave her a look that was placating. Her light eyes were filled with something Bee couldn’t quite describe. It was almost like she was worried about her because she didn’t really want to take a chance with this phone call.

And why was she so nervous about it? Bee wasn’t really sure, but there was something about the fact that the scout had only noticed her that bothered her. She didn’t like the idea of making it big without Nancy. Their plan was to move to Hollywood and get famous together, not separately.

The scout had his opportunity to give Nancy his card, and he didn’t. He left instead.

“Come on, Bee,” Nancy said, squeezing her hand. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could die,” Bee joked. “You could die.”

“Dying is inevitable,” Nancy said. “Reaching your dreams? Now, that’s the goal.”

Nancy pulled her up by the hand she held and led her to their telephone on their light yellow kitchen counter. Bee pulled Daniel’s card from her bra and dialed the number with shaky hands. She set it down on the counter, and Nancy looked on eagerly.

“Mention that you have a friend,” she whispered, tapping her fingernails against the countertop.

“He’s going to think we’re harlots,” Bee laughed.

“Well, if it comes up in the conversation, will you think of me?” Nancy asked.

“Of course I will,” Bee said, looking into her eyes. “I’ll always think of you.”

A flush rose to Nancy’s cheeks that Bee couldn’t help but notice. There it was again, that tension that popped up between them from time to time.

Bee resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She’d gone too long without letting a stranger kiss her on a date to the movies and cop a feel in the dark. What was wrong with her? Before she had the chance to answer her own question, the phone started dialing out, and a man answered on the second ring.

“Paramount Pictures, Daniel speaking,” he said.

Bee recognized the voice on the other line. It was the man from the diner this morning, unmistakably.

Nancy smiled at her and nodded at her with encouragement.

“Hi, Daniel,” Bee said nervously. Her words got caught in her throat, and before she could say her own name, Daniel started talking again.

“Hello, who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” Daniel asked.

“This is Bee,” she said. “I was your waitress this morning at Silver Screen Pie and Breakfast. You gave me your card, so I was just calling to reach out.”

“Ahh, with the beautiful smile,” Daniel said. “I was wondering if you would call me. You seemed so hesitant to take my card. Most girls snatch it out of my hand as soon as it appears. You are an actress, aren’t you?”

Bee laughed. “Yes, I am. My resume is, um…small at the moment. But I am flexible and ready for new roles.”

“Good!” Daniel said excitedly. “Very good. Have you been in front of the camera before or just on the stage?”

“Um,” Bee said. She’d never been in front of the camera. Not for real, at least. She’d auditioned with a screen test once but didn’t get that role.

“Lie,” Nancy whispered, eavesdropping on the conversation. “Say you have.”

“It’s okay if you haven’t,” Daniel bailed her out. “I can tell an expressive face made for the screen when I see one, and you clearly have it. Let me guess, local theatre?”

“Yes,” Bee said. “I’m always willing to learn new things, though.”

“It won’t take much learning for you,” Daniel said. His voice was kind, and something in it made Bee want to trust him despite the many horror stories she’d heard. “Listen, I’m really glad you called this afternoon. I’m kind of in a bit of a bind. We have a role that we are looking into recasting here at Paramount. It’s a big film, a romance with a pretty big male lead. The problem is, our female lead we’d cast? No chemistry. Zero.”

“Oh,” Bee said, uncertain as to how to respond. She didn’t want to bad mouth another actress.

“Anyway, all that’s to say, I have a very big open role. The only requirement is that there’s chemistry. You’re a natural talent, and as long as you’re teachable, you’ll be a star. Does that sound good?” Daniel asked.

“It does,” Bee said excitedly. “I am willing to learn. I’d love to have the opportunity to learn.”

“Great,” Daniel said. “Do you have transportation?”

Bee looked to Nancy for confirmation, asking silently if she could use their savings for a bus pass. Nancy nodded and gave her a look that said, “Of course.”

“I can hear you hesitating. It’s not a problem. The audition is at Paramount Pictures,” Daniel said. “At our main studio here in Hollywood. If you have trouble with transportation, I can send a private taxi to pick you up. What time works for you?”

“Any time,” Bee blurted. “I am available at any time.”

Daniel laughed. “How does tomorrow at 2 p.m. sound?”

“Perfect,” Bee said. “Tomorrow at 2 p.m. is perfect.”

Nancy covered her mouth and squealed into her own hand. She jumped up and down in place and spun around, her curls bouncing as she did.

“What’s your address?” Daniel asked.

“1545 Spring Street,” Bee said. She was a bit embarrassed to give out their address. They didn’t live in the best part of town. “Apartment 3A.”

“I’ll have a car there at 2 p.m.,” Daniel said. “I’ll meet you at the studio, and we’ll have a chat before your audition. I can give you some pointers on what the directors want to see, but I can tell you that out of the girls I have auditioning tomorrow, you’re my top pick. There’s not much you can do to mess this up!”

Bee frowned. “How is that so?”

“Huh?” Daniel asked.

“I just…” Bee trailed off, lost in her thought. She was skeptical. It all sounded too good to be true. The private car, the role that someone else just lost, but she could win with one good audition. Toss in the fact that she was the apparent favorite? Was this some sort of scam?

“I only mean that you have the right look,” Daniel said. “That’s all. You still have to show them that you can act and interact with our leading man.”

“Right,” Bee said. “Okay, I understand.”

She was still wary, but Daniel’s explanation checked out. Women weren’t well-respected in Hollywood. As long as you had the right look and got noticed, you could go far. Bee had seen enough movies with subpar performances from pretty faces to confirm just as much.

“Tomorrow at 2 p.m.,” Daniel confirmed.

“Yes,” Bee agreed. “Thank you so much. I look forward to it.”

“Not as much as I do,” Daniel said. “Have a great rest of your day, Bee.”

“The same to you,” Bee said. And then she hung up the phone.

Nancy rushed into her arms the second she set the receiver down, wedging her way against Bee’s chest.

“You did it!” Nancy squealed against her neck. “I’m so proud of you!”

“It’s all because you encouraged me,” Bee said. She pulled back from the hug and smiled at her. Their faces were so close, and something in the back of Bee’s mind told her she should tread carefully. “Can I go back to circling jobs?”

“Heavens, no!” Nancy said. “You should go take a well-deserved nap. I will circle the jobs.”

Bee couldn’t argue with that. Though, she was a little unsure if she’d be able to sleep after all the excitement of the day. She was exhausted, and taking a quick nap sounded like just the mental break she needed.

She woke to a knock on her door, and the sun was already well on its way below the horizon. Nancy stood at her door, half-dressed and one eye beautifully painted, with a makeup brush clutched in her hand like a knife. She had hot rollers in her hair, and the smell of fresh perfume assaulted Bee’s senses.

“Do you remember that girl who I took that acting class with?” Nancy asked. “Alice.”

“Yeah,” Bee said sleepily. “Did she call?”

“Yes,” Nancy said, bouncing on her heels. “She got invited to a party and said they want more girls. You know, the best formula for a good party is way more girls than guys.”

“Uh huh,” Bee said. She rubbed at her eyes and blinked. “Are you going to go with her?”

“Yes, and so are you,” Nancy said, deadly serious. “It’s at Dieter Bravo’s house. We have to go.”

Chapter 2, Masterlist

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo x ofc #old hollywood #1950s au #wildest dreams #dieter bravo fanfiction

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planetdream · 1 year

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so i just read your interpretation of kai's pisces rising and his pretty, perfect looks and i'm literally blown away by your deduction? you're so good at this omg

i must thank that anon for requesting kai because i've been so obsessed with him lately, they did god's work fr

now, allow me to gush about one certain scorpio man here (JAKE AAA) he's literally the most beautiful man i've ever seen and he has the hottest placements ever with those scorpio up his ass bruh

this makes me think he's probably a libra rising? with venus in the first house possibly because no way he's got mars there LIKE ehh it doesn't seem like it?

i'm so excited to hear your thoughts on this

aaa thank you for sending this ask !! tried so hard to not talk myself into circles on this lmaooo

obvi we don't know Jake's birth time and we could rectify his chart (which could be accurate if i actually took the time to do it lol) instead we're gonna say that hypothetically he does have a libra rising (which i can see arguments for outside of simply just his looks—his MBTI. also a libra rising means he'd have been birthed sometime between 2:16 AM and 3:40 AM; I chose 3:14 AM lol)

prefacing this by saying his mars and venus are both in detriment. it just means both planets are a bit weaker than they'd be if they swapped signs, for example. it's not a bad thing,, just something that will take work lol. anyways, let me attempt to explain some things:

lemme talk about mars in the 1H. of course, i'll be using the whole sign house system for this tiny portion.

since he has a libra mars (lmao rip him) I think it just makes his features softer rather than the harsher (often sexy) visuals that come with being scorpio/mars dominant. plus in this case, mars is where it belongs in the 1H—obvi that said person is pretty especially with libra (venus) helping out a bit. i can't get too heavy on my usage of degrees in this reading (common dreamie loss), but again, hypothetically, he'd have a 19° mars (which, now that im looking at a non-rectified chart, it's the same w/o a bt, anyway). 19° is, of course, a libra degree. and that is my very simple, minimal detail explanation that Jake doesn't need his Venus to be in the 1H for those visuals to still shine through!!

to further this, in regards to aspects, he has venus conjunct his ascendant—which extends much further than just being a pretty face; i think it also shows in the way he carries himself, his personality, and how warm he is.

but now lets use ur point in him being a 1H venus (this time using placidus house system instead of whole signs)

this makes his scorpio sun, venus and mercury positioned in the 1H while his mars is positioned in the 12H. despite this, and Jake being a scorpio stellium, jake doesn't have the "signature" scorpio look* that, many obvious scorpios have (for example; minho, yuta, minghao, yugyeom—u can see it in the eyes, eyebrows and really just their aura lol)—going back to venus being in detriment under scorpio. I think his libra mars or pisces moon (!!) really softens his face.

or perhaps bc his 1H sun and mercury are at 22° (which is a capricorn degree) he doesn't have that outward scorpic appearance. an example of the opposite of this would be jaebeom from got7 who is very much a capricorn stellium in aura/presentation and speech but his scorpio placements really stick out visually (imo).

(sorry to be rambling but i need to get down to the bottom of him just...not looking like a scorpio... especially with his venus being at 0° as 0° can be perceived as the most absolute a sign can be. but alas, this is hypothetical)

*feel like this changes when he's on stage and in his element, yk.

of the smaller aspects, Jake has venus quintile jupiter. jake loves art (venus) and exploring different forms of art or even expanding (jupiter) on and/or strengthening his talents in other areas of art (like singing and dancing). this coupled with his sun square jupiter; he's very serious about his job and the things that he sets out to do. none of that half-assed shit (sun at 22° so he's especially not being half-assed when there's money involved)

bonus!!! jake has a grand trine in his chart which is v v cool (didn't notice even after looking at his chart for nearly 2 hours). a grand trine is when three planets that are in the same element form a perfect triangle in the chart (there are other nuances to this too but this post is already long). he has an air grand trine**—I think he might really enjoy mind games*** and things that call for mental stimulation rather than more physical stimulation or activities where he needs to be running around constantly. save for being an idol, obvi—basically he enjoys his alone time and time to be lazy and not do too much (that's that libra mars energy especially if it is in the 12H)

**this can be said the same for heeseung, who also has an air grand trine.

***i wanna say mind games in the non-negative, non-manipulative way but like... wouldn't be surprised if he enjoyed a lil chaos here and there(i don't think the intended purpose would be to be mean or anything like that tho)

tbh i wouldn't be surprised if he was a sagittarius rising—but i'll have to give that more thought. needless to say, i vibe heavy with libra rising jake :))

anyways im gonna stop myself right there bc I really like his [hypothetical] chart and given the opportunity, i will not shut up about it :)) I hope I explained things in an understandable way!! lemme know if u have questions + thank u for sending this ask!!!

#need his birth time bad im finna pop up in his dreams #[💌] ˚｡⋆#✰ dream.astrology #enhypen astrology #kpop astrology #jake sim astrology

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spacedoutman · 2 months

Text

【𝕻𝖞𝖌𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖓 | 𝕬 𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖆𝖚】

(𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 3)

Description: Kiss was the perfect name for the infamous bank robbers who kissed everything goodbye to go out in a blaze of glory. Wreaking havoc on 1930s America, what happens when the chase ends?

♥ Paul Stanley x Reader

Note: I love folk shit so god damn much and I am so happy to be able to share some of it here. I halfway grew up in the Appalachians so a lot of it I'm actually pretty familiar with! Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None for this chapter

𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 4 / 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 2 / 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 1 / 𝖆𝖔3

“You are way too good looking to be working here.” The woman said in a snarky mutter as she snatched the duster from your hands.

Her expression softened. “You’ve been working your ass off all day.” She gave you a quick pat on the back. A wide grin shone on your face. “If you get the kids to bed, you can take whatever you need from my beauty supply—as long as it isn’t everything.” She finished lightheartedly. You nodded.

“Thank you so much, madame!” You bubbled. “I appreciate it greatly!”

“I should thank you for keeping this place so clean.” The woman sighed tiredly, sliding her hands on her hips. “Even if I didn’t have the kids, I couldn’t do as good of a job.”

You smiled. “I appreciate it again, Doris.” Doris nodded. She was taller than a tree but hunched like a willow. Her platinum hair was tied in a thousand colorful curlers—making her plain red dress stand out like red on white.

“Get on, doll.” She said through her thick Queens accent. “See you around.”

“Bless you.”

Doris nodded once and sauntered off. It felt like a boulder rolled off of you. You sighed in relief. The wind seemed to sigh with you as it billowed the flower-patterned champagne curtains through the open window. Your smile lingered as the soft breeze rolled over you. Your shoes clicked across the polished oak floors and arabesque carpets as you left.

The golden setting sun swallowed the rustic living room, making it look straight out of a fairy tale—but all that was on your mind was hitting the bed. You yawned, slouching heavily as you made your weaved around the deep red couch, heading up the stairs. You opened the first door you saw. A wall that looked like a photograph of the evening sky met your eyes—but with color.

Three children snuggled in their beds, peeping over the blankets.

“HI!!” They all whisper-shouted together, packed with cheer.

You chuckled. “Y/N!” The oldest, Eloise, sat up, waving happily. She was a young girl with two blond braids over her shoulders. You waved back, grinning widely. “How are you?” Your heart melted.

“Good and you?” You put on an exaggerated but enthusiastic polite voice, walking over to the small book shelf.

“Good.” Eloise nodded. “Mom told me that was polite.”

“Very.” You cooed.

“Can I hug you?” Another kid, Kenneth, who actually had a head full of carrot orange hair whispered.

“Of course.”

The children climbed out of their beds and tip-toed over like it was Christmas and past curfew. You hugged them all. The kids overjoyed grins lit up the room. “Can you read a fairy tale tonight?” Eloise asked. “We all agreed on it this time, actually.” Kenneth chuckled. He playfully crossed his arms and looked away, pouting dramatically.

The youngest looked down. He crept over to his bed and sat down, wrapping himself in his deep blue quilt. Your expression softened. your brows drew together. “I read you two’s pick the day before yesterday.” You said gently. “Would you mind letting Frank pick for now?” Kenneth and Eloise looked at each other. Kenneth lowered his head. Eloise put a finger to her chin.

“Alright!” Eloise enthusiastically opined. “He just doesn’t speak up enough.”

“It’s best to include everyone.” You reassured. Kenneth nodded. “Now, what would you like, Frank?”

“A book about war.”

Meanwhile.

Gene’s foot tapping made a great drum beat. He played the fiddle so quick it should’ve lit on fire, nodding along to the tune he and Paul sang. Paul’s hand danced on the dulcimer while he strummed with the other. Another chaotic song about morning whiskey. They’d get it right some time. The two didn’t even drink. No matter how far down the night weather plunged, the loft hoarded heat.

The roof was just high enough for the two to sit up all the way—but one wrong breath and piles of dust and hay and maybe even an empty birds nest would pile onto their faces and possibly suffocate them.

One of the fiddle strings snapped. It had to be the fiftieth time that week. Gene let out a gravelly sigh. “Get the washboard.” Paul teased, taking a small pause. He played again, singing a flowery little tune. His heart beat to the rhythm. Gene peeled himself off the hay stack. It sounded empty without the fiddle.

He crawled down the ladder. Its creaks and bellows ripped through the air. Paul tapped his foot a bit louder. The music scratched the itch in his brain nicely. He closed his eyes. His singing turned to mumbling as he made up lyrics for the song he didn’t remember. The sound filled the barn like an orchestra as he lost his hands to the tune. He moved with the rhythm before-

“Please, there’s got to be something we can do.” Gene’s soft voice fretted.

Paul’s eyes widened. He lowered his dulcimer and crawled over to the ladder. The owner of the place, mister Boyd—James Boyd, to be exact, screamed obscenities. Paul’s lips pinched as a sour face knocked his smile out. He laid the instrument down and crawled down the ladder. Hay drifted down around him like feathers.

Boyd’s shouting boomed louder than a cow mooing in his ear. Paul leaned against a pillar. He frowned a little. Gene was completely still, yet somehow small as he could be. He wiped his mouth. His eyes went dull so fast it hurt. A slight scowl fought its way onto Paul’s face as he eyed Boyd like a hawk. The man was short as a fence post and thin as a twig.

He always wore a tie and a finely pressed white shirt.

“I swear to god, whatever we’ve done, we’ll make it up to you.” Gene’s gaze darted from Paul to Boyd. His eyes turned overly bright and feverish and his movements fast.

Gene’s racing heart slammed in Paul’s ear. “.. Could I ask what’s going on?” Paul’s voice lightened. He sounded more hesitant than anything, yet a little poison hid snug somewhere in there.

“Gladly!” Boyd thundered, staring down his chin at them. “If the two of you don’t pack your bags and get your asses out of here, I’ll have the cops called immediately!”

So much spite drenched his voice it flew out of his mouth. “Can I ask why?” Paul strained to stay polite. Gene stepped back. His gaze clung to the ground.

“You two have done nothing but cause’ a ruckus!” He tossed his hands in front of him, showing off his freshly polished watch made of pure gold.

“Please-”

“Get out.” The man hissed. “I’d better never see either of you again!”

A comeback choked up in Paul. Gene eased his hand on his shoulder. Paul took a deep breath and let it go with it. The two walked out in defeat. The tense air followed them all the way down the path as they left the farm. At least the smell of shit didn’t.

The truck rattled and the road boomed, Paul winced a bit every time they hit a pot hole deep enough to bury a man. Gene laid his head against the dusty window, staring into the night as the washed out woods smeared around them. Paul drove Gene’s pickup truck as fast as the old thing would go, clutching the steering wheel so hard it would snap. Gene closed his eyes.

“That’s another job.” Paul commented gruffly.

“I always thought he liked me.” Gene confessed, completely at a loss.

“Please. I don’t think he likes anyone.” Paul said more snappily than he would’ve liked. “And that leaves us to do what? Degrade ourselves even more? Get a worse job like eating sawdust?”

“Paul. Calm down. I just don’t think he could pay us anymore.”

“Stop trying to justify his behavior.”

“T.. This is a difficult time.. and I have no doubt he’s struggling as well.” Gene said sincerely through a breaking voice.

“He could’ve at least had the good grace to.. I don’t know, talk to us like human beings?” Paul sarcastically sneered, whipping around a corner.

“He’s probably not even thinking about that..”

“Well that’s his fucking problem, isn’t it?”

Gene looked down. Paul furrowed his brows tightly. He breathed so quickly he could start a fire in his lungs. Gene’s eyes widened for a split second. “Paul.. the gas is low.” Gene squeaked. Paul slowed down. His grip loosened.

“Let’s go get gas.”

“Alright.”

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