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smeddiemunson · 2 years

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(part 1 here) (part 2 here)

Gareth, in a feat of truly impressive self-restraint, lasted all the way through their band practise before asking.

The four of them packed into Eddie’s van. Gareth had ultimate dibs on the front seat since he’d known Eddie the longest, despite being in different grades.

“So,” he said, breaking the expectant silence. “Steve Harrington?”

Eddie groaned and let his head thunk against the steering wheel, not even flinching when the horn sounded. “Please don’t.”

“Nah, man. It’s all good,” Jeff soothed as he leaned through the gap between the front seats. “We’ve not got a problem with it, but Harrington? Really? Not exactly your type.”

Eddie laughed humourlessly. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

Gareth turned in his seat to share a loaded look with the two sat in the back as Eddie started the van. They were planning to find out the all of it.

“And you guys just don’t have a problem with it?” Eddie asked once they were well on the road to Loch Nora. “I know you don’t exactly have the best memories of him from school.”

Eddie tapped his fingers against the steering wheel in a rhythm that didn’t even match the tape that was playing quietly. He was nervous and Eddie hated being anything other than completely sure of himself.

“You’re right, we don’t have the best memories of him, but the guy saved your life, Eddie,” Gareth reminded him gently.

It was the worst phone call he’d ever received in his life. He couldn’t imagine getting another one like it. Wayne on the other end, breathing shakily as he told Gareth that Eddie was in the hospital, that he wasn’t waking up but that he was going to be okay and that he thought Eddie would really like it if his best friends, his brothers, were there when he woke up.

It had been hard seeing Eddie like that, small, frail and paler than usual, no rings or battle vest, no Eddie. Steve and Wayne had been sat at his bedside, both just staring into the middle distance, when they had filtered into the room. Gareth remembered so vividly the sinking feeling that he felt at the quiet. Eddie hated the quiet, he was never quiet.

And maybe it had been the wrong thing to do, to interrupt Steve and Wayne in such a way, but Gareth knew Eddie. Wayne, for all he tried, never really understood his nephew and Steve was clearly a new development.

So he started talking. He talked about school, about the assignment he was working on, and he talked about the girl that worked behind the counter of Camelot, and he talked about his mom chewing him out for almost crashing her car. Jeff and Grant, who knew exactly what he was doing, picked up the thread when it sounded like he was running out of steam.

He just couldn’t stand to let Eddie exist like that.

Gareth owed him that much. Gareth owed him everything.

Eddie who had stood on lunch tables and made himself the centre of attention, the target, when Gareth couldn’t fight off the tears after getting an F on his history midterm. Eddie who got them their first paying gig as Corroded Coffin and pushed them all to take their music seriously.

He joked about them being his sheep, but he wasn’t exactly wrong.

“Yeah, man,” Grant doubled down. “We can’t hate him anymore. Without him you wouldn’t be here. And you trust him?”

“With my life,” Eddie confirmed with conviction.

“Then that’s good enough for us. It’s all water under the bridge,” Jeff concluded. “Now turn that fucking music up, I don’t want to cry in the back of your shitty van, Ed.”

Eddie cracked the music up with a blubbery laugh and all four of them yelled along with Ozzy for the rest of the drive.

The door to the Harrington house was opened before they even got out of the car. Steve stood there, excitement buzzing around him.

"Ed," Gareth stopped him with a hand on his arm before Eddie could scamper off. "Do they know about you?"

Eddie shook his head. "Only Buckley."

Gareth nodded once and jumped out of the van. He was still too short to climb out normally, and at seventeen, he didn't have much hope for a late growth spurt to help him out with it.

“You been waiting for us all this time, Stevie?” Eddie teased as he slammed his door shut.

Steve laughed, stepping out the door with bare feet on the porch so he could accept Eddie’s hug. He didn’t have a shirt on, pink scars on full display, and short yellow swim shorts on. It was nothing short of a miracle that Eddie still had the brain cells to flirt.

“We could hear you guys coming all the way up the street.” He explained as Eddie let go of him. “Ozzy?”

“Oh for fuck sake,” Jeff muttered from his place at Gareth’s shoulder. “How is Ed not seeing this?”

“He had to do senior year three times, dude.” Grant fired back from Gareth’s other side, but still not loud enough for Eddie or Steve to hear. “Steve could plant one on him right now and he’d still find a way to make it a just friends thing.”

Steve, having finally managed to pull his focus away from Eddie long enough to see his other guests, waved them over. “Come on in guys.”

Gareth made sure to share with Steve what he hoped past for a friendly, macho and athletic half handshake as he passed him to go through the door.

“Thanks again for having us. You really didn’t have to invite us,” Grant said, using the good manners his father taught him.

Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “No way, man. I’ve been trying to get Teddy to bring you guys over for ages. He talks about you all the time.”

“You talk about us, Ed?” Gareth asked with a shit eating grin.

Eddie pushed at his shoulder, sending Gareth stumbling towards the open french doors. “Yeah and I’ll talk about Tammy Thompson if you don’t shut up.”

Jeff and Gareth snickered together. They knew all about Gareth’s benadryl induced dream about Tammy Thompson because when he told them he was still half high on the same benadryl.

Gareth huffed but didn’t say anything. He didn’t doubt that Eddie would follow through with his threat if pushed.

Out in the garden, it seemed that the party was already in full swing. There were scattered cans, Robin and Nancy were giggling together at something, and s portable stereo playing The Cure.

Steve smiled shyly. “We got started without you.”

His voice seemed to draw the attention of the other four people. They all stopped in the middle of their conversations.

“Whoa, dude,” The guy with long hair that Gareth didn’t recognise said to break the silence. “Your cult looks super culty.”

Gareth froze. Jeff and Grant did too.

But Eddie, determined to always surprise them, just laughed. “Not a cult, my man.” He kicked his shoes off by the door (surprising how little care he paid them since he sulked for a week straight when Jeff accidentally scuffed them) and started making his way over to the sun loungers. “This the legendary Corroded Coffin. Gareth, Jeff and Grant.”

He pointed them out each in turn then shucked off his shirt and started working the intricate handcuff clasp of his belt.

Gareth pretended he didn’t hear the strangled noise that came from Steve’s throat.

“And guys, this is Argyle. You know everyone else.”

Gareth waved politely but awkwardly and it was returned by a chorus of ‘hello’s.

Once Eddie had divested himself of his jeans, the black swim shorts he had forced underneath them sitting starkly against his pale skin, he dipped back in his jeans pocket to pull out two perfectly rolled joints.

“I brought party favours!” He waved them in front of Argyle’s face how he would sometimes play with the stray cats that skulked around Forest Hills.

Grant groaned. “Eddie, you know I can’t afford weed right now.”

Eddie scoffed at him. “These’s ones are on the house, Ad-Grant-age. This is a party after all.”

Steve, somehow having forced himself out of the trace that Eddie’s torso had put him in, was the first to start moving. “You guys can change inside if you want. There’s bedrooms upstairs or the bathroom just past the kitchen. I’ll get some more drinks. Can we switch this tape?”

The rambling did nothing to hide the redness of his cheeks. If anything it just brought more attention to them.

“Your tapes are shit, Steveo,” Robin informed him happily. “But this one is also awful, so yes I will change it just for you.” She ignored Jonathan’s annoyed hey and beckoned Steve to follow her.

Eddie settled on the sun lounger next to Argyle, already having pulled a lighter from somewhere.

Gareth took that as his cue to drag Jeff and Grant inside to change.

Jeff, as soon as they were out of hearing range, asked, “When has Eddie ever given us free weed?”

Gareth shook his head. “I’ve known about this crush for less than a week and I’m already tired of it. We have to do something to get them together.”

Grant narrowed his eyes. “You already have a plan, don’t you?”

He pushed them both towards the bathroom. “Get changed, our work starts today.”

(part 4)

#steddie #eddie munson #gareth emerson #steve harrington #corroded coffin #bit of a longer one but Gareth was having feelings and i needed to let him have his feelings #pool party/ operation get steve and eddie together planning party next part #again if you asked to be tagged; i don't do that because it makes me anxious and i wouldn't write anything #so figured it was better to write the stuff and not tag people than force myself into anxiety and never post anything again :)#my fic

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 9 months

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Ooh! A wonderful interview with Rich Keeble who played Mr. Arnold (the one with the Doctor Who Annual :)) in S2! :)❤

Q: In Good Omens 2 you play Mr. Arnold, who runs the music shop on Whickber Street. Were you a fan of Good Omens before joining the cast, and is it challenging to take on such an iconic story which is already loved by a huge fanbase?

A: “There’s always pressure if you’re working on something with an existing fanbase and people might have an idea already as to how you should be approaching something. To be honest I was aware of the show but I hadn’t actually seen it before I was asked to get involved. I knew it was something special though! I remember talking to Tim Downie [Mr. Brown] about how when you tape for certain things you know if something’s a “good one”. Of course by the time I was on set I’d watched Season 1 and read the book.

I had an interesting route into the show actually: I was asked at the last minute to read the stage directions at the tableread on Zoom, and Douglas [Mackinnon] the director called me up to discuss pronunciations of the character names etc. To prepare further I quickly watched the first episode on Prime Video, and I was very quickly drawn into it. A couple of hours later I was on a Zoom call with David [Tennant], Michael [Sheen] (with his bleached hair), Neil [Gaiman], Douglas and the whole team, including Suzanne [Smith] and Glenda [Mariani] in casting. After that readthrough I asked my agent to try and see if she could shoehorn me in and she came back with a tape for Mr. Arnold saying “you play the piano don’t you…?” They wanted me to demonstrate my musical playing ability, so I rented a rehearsal studio room in Brixton for an hour and filmed myself playing piano (and drums just in case), then I did my scenes a couple of different ways and I guess it wasn’t too terrible!”

Q: During episode five you mimed to music written by series composer David Arnold alongside a real string quartet – this must have been very immersive! How did it feel to work with David, and bring the ball to life?

A: “I actually didn’t meet David Arnold sadly, but I did work with Catherine Grimes, the music supervisor who is lovely. David was at the London screening but I missed an opportunity to go and say hello to him which I kicked myself about.

I remember before I was in Scotland there was a bit of uncertainty as to whether I would need to play anything for real or not, so I practised every day playing loads of Bach and other music I thought was era-appropriate just in case they asked me to do anything on the fly. So yes, it was very immersive as you say! They sent me three pieces of music to learn which I practised in my Edinburgh apartment on a portable folding keyboard thing I bought. They introduced me to the string quartet (John, Sarah, Alison and Stephanie) and I tried to hang out with them when I could. On the day we all had earpieces to mime to. I had to mime while listening out for a cue from Nina [Sosanya] from across the room, then deliver my dialogue and carry on playing, which was tricky! The quartet and I helped each other out actually: Douglas would say something like “let’s go from a minute into the second piece of music”, I’d look at the sheet music and whisper “where the hell is that?” and one of the quartet would say “we think that’s bar 90�� or something. Here’s a little bit of trivia: the shooting overran and the string quartet couldn’t make the last day, so they found some incredible lookalikes to replace them for the scene when we get lead out of the bookshop through all the demons, although I think they also kept them deliberately off camera.”

Q: What did you think of your music shop when you first saw the set? Did you have a favourite poster or prop?

A: “I thought it was incredible! It could’ve been an actual music shop with all the instruments hanging up with the “Arnold’s” price tags on. The attention to detail was incredible, well IS incredible as I understand it’s all still there. It’s hard to pick a favourite to be honest. I did a little video walkaround on my phone at the time so maybe I’ll post that if I won’t get in trouble. Interestingly the shop interior itself was elsewhere on the set to the shop entrance you see from the street. You walk out of Aziraphale’s shop, over the road, through the door of the music shop and… there’s nothing.”

Q: Mr. Arnold is tempted into the ball by a Doctor Who Annual and is playing the theme in the music shop scene – are you a fan of Doctor Who in real life? And what was it like making those jokes and references in front of the Tenth Doctor David Tennant?

A: “I’ve always dipped in and out of Doctor Who over the years since Sylvestor McCoy, who was doing it when I first became aware of it when I was growing up. Even if you’re not a fan it’s one of those shows you can’t really get away from, so doing that particular scene in front of David was really fun, and of course Douglas had directed Doctor Who as well. Apart from the amusing situation of two supposed Doctor Who fans talking about Doctor Who without realising they’re in the company of a Doctor Who, I also seem to remember Michael being the one to suggest that he would deliver his “due to problems at the BBC” line directly to David.

Oh, and I think it was actually my idea to grab the annual off the harpsichord before joining the queue behind Crowley at the end of the ballroom scene (which we’d shot weeks earlier at this point). When we were blocking it out and rehearsing I knew I had to leave my position and get to the front for my “surrender the angle” line, and then later it just felt like I wouldn’t leave without the annual so I ran back through everyone to grab it. Nobody seemed to have a problem with me doing that so I just carried on doing it when we shot it! I do remember it being a fun set with Douglas and the team being very open to suggestions.”

Q: How did you balance filming both Good Omens and BBC Ghosts at the same time?

A: “Luckily both shows were a joy to work on, and everyone seems to know about both of them. We were shooting them in early 2022 and I also had a little part in an ITV drama called ‘Stonehouse’, starring Matthew Macfadyen. I usually never know when I’m working next so to have three great TV jobs at once was very unusual. There was all this date juggling and I actually almost had to turn down Ghosts due to clashes. Luckily both shows had to move some dates so it worked out. But yes, I spent two weeks up in Scotland shooting all that Good Omens ballroom stuff, then I came back down to London to do Ghosts, knowing I’d be back up to shoot my scenes in the music shop in a couple of weeks. Now, when I found out who was playing my wife in Ghosts I couldn’t believe it: Caroline Sheen – Michael Sheen’s cousin! She was amazing and that was another great set in general. I say “set”, but it’s all filmed in that house which surprised me. I’d worked with Kiell [Smith-Bynoe] and Jim [Howick] before, and Charlotte [Ritchie] was in the Good Omens radio play a few years ago and a big fan of the book. Charlotte’s very musical of course and we got talking about my folding keyboard I had for practising my Good Omens stuff, and she ended up setting it up in the house for us to have a play on!

Now, when we’d shot all our internal scenes there was this big storm forecast, and our external scenes were scheduled for the day of the storm, so that had to be moved into the next week. It meant I ended up shooting those scenes outside the house, then going straight back up to Scotland to shoot the Good Omens music shop scene the next day! When I mentioned to Michael I’d just worked with Caroline he said “ooh she’s in Ghosts is she!” and revealed that she’d texted him about me which was rather surreal. Then later after the Ghosts wrap party Kiell gave me a part in his Channel 4 Blap, so at the time I felt like I was killing it career wise, but the industry quietened a bit after that and my workload eased off over the year so I was in my overdraft by November.”

Q: What are your plans for the future – can we expect to see you in something else soon?

A: “This year, after a bit of a quiet start, I was very fortunate to work on a Disney+ show called Rivals which stars… David Tennant! I think I’m allowed to say my character is called Brian, and I shot five episodes so that was another really amazing job, and great to work with David again (I told him he must be my good luck charm, although I hope he’s not sick of me). That should be out at some point in late 2024. Other than that I’ve filmed a few other bits I presume will be out next year, one of which is called Truelove on Channel 4 which actually looks really good. That starts early January. Of course now Season 3 of Good Omens has been greenlit, I would love Neil and the gang to have me back on that… but I can only keep my fingers crossed!”

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seonghwaddict · 1 year

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★ NEVER SAY NEVER. [ 009 ] flowers on vines.

synopsis. something about the eight most well-known boys of your campus just didn't sit right with you, so you never gave any effort to interact with them. but after a series of… interesting incidents, they can't seem to leave you alone. pairing. college students! vampires! ot8! ateez x fem! reader. genre. fluff, angst, eventual smut, college au, vampire au. chapter warnings. mildly suggestive content, implication of size kink. word count. 3k

　　　　　　　　chapter viii // chapter ix // chapter x

With a week left for the project, thirteen out of the fourteen had come and gone with the snap of a finger. You were aware time seemed to go so fast because of the person you were partnered with. Wooyoung had a way of getting the most stubborn of people to have the most fun. Meeting with him—and his friends, or, you supposed, your friends—nearly every day a week for months, it wasn’t a surprise that it went by so quickly.

You worked very well together, a shock to you initially but after getting so close to him it made sense. Not to mention how close you’ve gotten to his friends, who you now also considered some of your own best friends and loved. Not that you loved them, but you thought they were cool and fun and nice and unbelievably handsome and-

Your thoughts were quickly cut off by a knock on your studio door that cut through the music playing from your bluetooth speaker. Well, “studio” was a bit of an exaggeration.

When you and Sangmi first moved into this apartment, it became apparent to the two of you that there was an extra room. Of course, knowing that she was a dance student and probably practised for the majority of the day, you let her have the extra room but she quickly shot you down and told you to use it for your art instead. It wasn’t spacious enough to be a dance studio, anyway.

There was space for your assortment of shelves and easels, a long table stretched the length of the wall under the single window in the room, paint tubes, brushes and palette knives scattered all over the surface and various filled sketchbooks, new and scrapped canvases crammed just below the table on the equally long shelf.

You set a small couch next to the door, the wall behind it decorated with several of your paintings you favoured over the others. Sometimes, while you were working, you let Sangmi sit on the couch and relax, either watching you or doing something of her own as you enjoyed each other’s presence.

You set your paintbrush down next to your palette on the table and wiped your paint stained hands on a cloth before opening the door.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the dance studio for a few hours.” Sangmi told you as you stepped aside to let her in. She looked at the painting of Wooyoung you were working on, the reference picture a screenshot of the dance video he filmed, taped to the top part of the easel. “Oh, it’s coming along so well!”

Over the past weeks she’s been checking on you and your progress, reminding you to eat whenever you get too carried away with painting. She’s seen all the stages and all the discarded versions of the painting, as well as all your frustration when you couldn’t get things to look quite right.

The canvas was fairly large, a magnificent oil painting of Wooyoung finally living up to your visions on the fabric—so you figured there wouldn’t be a need for smaller paintings as well. The dance was a contemporary one, choreographed to a song that made use of traditional instruments and performed on the stage of the university’s auditorium. The part you chose to paint was an almost breathtaking point of the choreography where he switched from sharp movements to an almost trance-like slowness, looking up with one hand elegantly reaching upwards. There was no denying his talent.

The lighting from the stage’s spotlight was already dramatic, but you tweaked it on your canvas, adding more contrast and a soft glow to his illuminated features to create a more jarring effect. He looked ethereal with the way you painted him.

A couple minutes later, Sangmi left and you could continue painting in peace. Well, until the doorbell rang, at least. With a groan, you set your paintbrush down and walked into the hall to see who you needed to buzz in. As soon as you saw who was waiting outside the building, your eyes lit up and you wasted no time in hitting the button to unlock the door.

You practically ran to the bathroom to wash the paint off your fingers. By the time he arrived at your door, you already cleaned yourself up a bit and made a bit of an effort to sort out your messy hair. With a deep breath, you opened the door and practically threw yourself on him.

“Gosh, I thought I’d never see you again!” You pretended to cry into his chest as your embraced him tightly.

But Yunho only chuckled, ruffling your hair. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

You were only half joking. With you focused on your painting and him having to attend shootings and rehearsals for the end of year movie of the acting students, you hadn’t seen each other in a while. Each of the artistic majors had some kind of collaborative showcase near the end of the year; this year art majors and dancers worked together, the film majors worked with the actors, and the music majors worked with the theatre students. For that reason, you couldn’t find a lot of time to see half of the boys in general.

“That’s an ironic thing to say for an actor.” You stepped away from him with a giddy laugh, noticing the bags in his hand and pointing at them. “What’s that?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Yunho smiled and walked past you to set the bags on the small breakfast table between the kitchen and living area. “I brought food. I didn’t know what you wanted,” he began taking different containers out of the bags, “so I got a variety—some soups, tteokbokki, fried chicken, japchae, gimbap and, of course, rice.”

“Thank you so much, but really didn’t have to get all this-“

He cut you off with a wave of his hand. “Don’t worry about it, I want to treat you to some delicious food.”

After a moment of you biting your lips with uncertainty, you nodded gratefully and moved to the kitchen to grab utensils and bowls.

The two of you conversed comfortably as you stuffed yourselves full with the food he brought. You asked about the movie but he’d only give you answers so vague he may not have said anything at all; “What is it about?” “Well, you know, characters and stuff.” “Yunho, please!” “Ok, ok, fine… it’s a romance and involves characters.”

Though you didn’t really notice it, he paid a lot of attention to you. Whether you were talking or just eating, he was constantly taking notes in his mind. When you briefly mentioned a movie you liked, he later reminded himself to watch it when he had the time. Or when your eyes gave a slightly different reaction to a particular dish that showed you enjoyed it, he later reminded himself to make sure to order that dish next time he brings you food. Even when he was the one talking, he was so focused on the warmth in your face as you listened to him that he nearly lost his train of thought several times.

You told him about the progress of your painting, but adamantly refused to show it to him even when he begged so prettily. However, he quickly quelled his curiosity as you said something about wanting to surprise him and the rest of the guys. Something unfamiliar in his chest clenched when you giggled at his pout, reaching your hand over to pat his forearm.

“But I want to see your paintings!” He huffed jokingly, making you laugh again.

“I can just paint something for you out here.”

He seemed to be considering the offer for a while and then his pout disappeared, his eyes lighting up even though there was a darker glint in his eyes you couldn’t quite decipher. A smirk spread across his face.

“What if… you paint me?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ve thought about using you as a reference so-”

“No, no, you misunderstood me,” he let out a mischievous little chuckle that twisted your stomach, “I mean, what if you paint on me?”

“O-oh…” Mildly surprised by the request, you blinked. “Are you, um… are you sure you’d want that?”

His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you. “Of course I do! But if you don’t feel comfortable doing it, you don’t have to.”

With a newfound determination to make him happy, you nodded and got up, telling him to stay where he was seated while you went to grab some paint. Deciding oil paints weren’t the best idea, you settled on gouache, something between watercolour and acrylic that would wash off easily. You grabbed a few clean brushes and walked out with everything in your hands.

The sight that waited for you in the living room had your breath caught in your throat. Yunho was still there, as you had asked, but he had gone to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to lay on the floor.

He was on top of the towel.

Laying face down.

Shirtless.

You were glad he wasn’t facing you, otherwise he would’ve seen the way you had to turn around to pull yourself together. There was no denying how well-built Yunho’s body was—or any of their bodies, in fact—but seeing it so bare, despite only seeing his back, did things to you. For the sake of the friendship, you swallowed down the nervousness bubbling inside you and turned back around, grabbing a cup of water and a small towel from the kitchen before walking to where he laid himself down and kneeling next to his body.

You set your supplies next to you and took a breath. He sensed you next to him and turned his head to look at you sideways.

“Something wrong, tiny?”

The nickname only added into that static feeling of nervousness but you still shook your head, beginning to dip one of the brushes in water. “Everything’s fine, just relax, please.”

Yunho nodded and sighed softly, turning his head to the other side and closing his eyes. As you inspected your colour palette, you took a moment to think of what to paint on him. What would he like?

Finally, you decided to just let your hands take over instead of thinking about it too carefully. Knowing him, he’d be happy no matter what you decided to draw. Holding your breath, you let the brush lathered with paint touch his skin. There was no mistaking the way the hair at the nape of his neck stood up with goosebumps as he shivered ever so slightly. You briefly apologised about the paint being cold, but he didn’t mind at all.

You drew a wavy, thin, sage green line from his left shoulder diagonally down to the left side of his waist, watching as the damp bristles glided over his muscles. They weren’t as defined as an athlete’s, but they were there, soft indications of his fitness.

As you let your mind and paintbrush wander, you found yourself turning that line into a vine of flowers and leaves. The style was almost impressionistic, barely abstract and precise smudges of colours that resembled plants you didn’t know the names of. With each stroke of the brush and twitch of his muscles, your shoulder relaxed and you let yourself bask in the moment just as he was.

Soon enough, you were happy with your creation and sat back to inspect it. Feeling the absence of your brushstrokes, Yunho turned his head to look at you again.

“Done?”

You tilted your head one way and then the other, looking at it from different angles before nodding with satisfaction. He gave you a toothy smile.

“Do you wanna do the front too, tiny?”

“Sure- wait, what?” Your eyes snapped to his, his question making your face feel warm. Painting on his naked front torso seemed considerably more… intimate than painting on the plane of his back.

“Yeah, like, paint on the front? Maybe you can connect the designs.”

And so you found yourself painting a similar vine on his chest after he laid himself on his back—of course, he had waited until you told him the paint was dry in fear of ruining your hard work. This vine started from his waist where the vine on his back ended and creeped up to his neck, disappearing behind his ear.

Throughout the process, you had to keep reminding yourself not to let your hands indulge in a few caresses of his porcelain skin, gaslighting yourself into believing he was just a canvas. But the way he was looking at you didn’t help much.

His eyes almost looked glossy as the reflection of the ceiling lamp’s light danced in them, looking at you with something you could only compare to adoration. You didn’t hate it at all, but you weren’t sure how to feel about it.

You also weren’t sure how you ended up in this position. At some point you must’ve been so focused, you didn’t notice him move you to sit on his upper thighs. Straddling him. But you didn’t want to make things awkward and move off him (not to mention that you greatly liked this position), so you stayed and continued your work from on top of him. You desperately tried to ignore the size difference that seemed so much more obvious when you were on him like this while he, on the contrary, revelled in it.

And at first you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, threatening to break through your rib cage. But the erratic beating soothed itself; it calmed down quickly when it came to terms with the fact that you were safe in his vicinity. He was safe.

Painting his front was similar to his back, his muscles twitching every time you brushed over them with paint. Now that you were seeing him like this, you nearly asked him never to put on a shirt again.

You found yourself adding details that were ultimately meaningless and would most definitely go unnoticed, but you weren’t quite ready to move away from him. Not when he was looking at you with such round, tender eyes.

“Can I take a picture of this?”

His voice seemed slightly deeper than usual, perhaps because he hadn’t used it in a while. His question briefly caught you off guard, but you realised that it was kind of cute, really. So you nodded without lifting your eyes from the area you were painting just next to his abs.

Yunho’s hand reached over to the coffee table and he slid his phone off the surface. First he took a picture from his own point of view, looking down his chest to see one of your hands painting gorgeous flowers while your other one rested on his free hand’s forearm, the way you straddled him so perfectly just further down the shot.

The next picture he took was a landscape oriented photo, his hand outstretched to the side. This shot depicted the scene from the side, both of your smiling faces in the picture, as well as the bend of your arm as you painted near his neck and the soft arch of your back as you leaned over him ever so slightly. The way his free hand’s fingers rubbed and tapped their way up your thighs until they reached your waist went unnoticed by the camera.

While you were very focused on painting, you did eventually relax enough to let your own free hand explore his torso. With one hand focused on refining the flowers, the other glided over wherever the paint wasn’t touching, following the dips and rises of his body. It wasn’t until you accidentally passed your thumb over one of his nipples that he made an effort to stop you.

When it happened, he let out a shaky breath that seemed somewhat like a silent whimper, he raised a hand to close around your wrist and lifted it away from his chest. After he muttered a “tiny, please” you nodded and relaxed your hand in his grip, face flushing out of embarrassment.

Instead of dropping your hand, he repositioned his hold on it to cradle it gently, pulling it to his face and consequently pulling you further up his lap. You gaped at him as he pressed an electric kiss to your knuckles. But he didn’t stop there; he flexed your wrist to present your palm to him, his eyes never breaking contact with yours until his kisses trailed to your wrist. His lips lingered over your pulse point and you watched as his eyes fluttered shut.

It was impossible to deny the dark tint appearing on your cheeks, but you were glad to see he looked just as affected. Pink blush adorned his soft cheeks, his eyes seeming slightly dazed when he finally dropped your hand and looked up to you.

It wasn’t long after that that the paint fully dried and he had to leave, voice hoarse as he explained that he had an early shooting the next day and should probably go rest. After helping you clean up, Yunho pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, barely missing the corner of your lips, and took off into the night.

If you collapsed onto the couch and squealed into a pillow as soon as he was gone, that was nobody’s business but yours.

And if as soon as he got home, he practically ripped off his shirt and gushed to his brothers about how small and pretty you looked when you were on top of him—foregoing showing the pictures because those were for him and only him—that was also nobody's business but his either.

　　[ lilo's notes ... ] thank you all for waiting so patiently for this chapter <33. as you can see, you and yunho are quite… close 🤭 i honestly had so much fun writing this, possibly too much- but anyways, i hope you enjoyed it!! also, don’t worry, i did not forget about that little yeosang moment from the previous chapter, it will most definitely be brought up~~

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ network ... @cromernet @blankjournal

　　ଘ(੭˃ᴗ˂)੭ taglist ... @atinytinaa @marievllr-abg @pocketjoong @moonsangie @sarahleighflora @kiss-hwa @kyukyustar @cqndiedcherries @ateezourstars @kitty4hwa @hyukssunflower @aestheticsluut @neohyxn @mrowwww @darkdayelixer @itsokaytobedumb00 @hwa-sans @purplelady85 @seongfury @meginthebuilding27 @stopeatread @mothworked @foliea @euphoric-emily16 @teezers99 @mulletjoonsupremacy @imalildelulu @sunukissed @blehhhidk @ad0rechuu @brxken0rex @strawberry-moonpies @bluehwale-main @lightinythedark @stupefystudies @yandere-stories @skz-enthusiasttt @seongwin @huachengsbestie01 @galaxypox @moonminji @lilactangerine @lelaleleb @asjkdk @honey-lemon-goose @stayteezdreams @diorwoo @yunho0o0o0o @majestickitty @shookykookie30 @0325tiny

#★ — › NEVER SAY NEVER !#cromernet #ateez #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #vampire au #college au #fluff #eventual smut

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turvi · 1 year

Text

Sugar

Rodrick Heffley x Autistic!Reader

Y/n fiddled with her fingers as she contemplated opening the basement door. She knew Rodrick was practising right now, and it would be uncomfortable for her to sit through it.

She paced the hallway until she decided to sit on the couch, but she saw the time. It was almost 6 pm, and his parents would be back from the supermarket. So she left his home.

A few minutes later, his parents got home, and Rodrick looked for her everywhere.

"What are you looking for, Rodrick?" Susan's voice startled him. He put his hand on his chest as he took a breath of relief.

"Jeez! Susan, don't sneak up on your kids like this." Rodrick made a note to talk to Y/n tomorrow as he made his way to his room.

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

The following morning Rodrick pelted stones on her window. He smirked when he saw her window open. "There's my pretty girl? Come down. I need to see you properly."

Y/n blushed and ran down the stairs. Straight into his arms. She smiled as she felt his hand drawing circles on her back.

"You alright, sugar? You went without saying goodnight," he asked, lightly pinching her cheek.

Y/n shifted her weight between her legs, her palms sweating. "Uhh... I actually had something in my mind."

Rodrick squinted his eyes at her. "what is it, sugar?" he gently caressed her arm, trying to calm her nerves.

"I wanna listen to you practice." she pouted as she looked up at him

Rodrick sighed. "Sweets, you know my loud music will make you uncomfortable, and I can't have that." his tone was soft.

His heart broke when he saw disappointment on her face. He took her hand and walked with her in the neighbourhood, hoping it would clear her mood.

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

"Here you go, Rodrick". He immediately pockets the "mom bucks". Greg looked at his older sibling in suspicion. Rodrick barely would leave his room...somehow making Greg do all the chores. Now he was happily doing chores, being nice to him.

Greg saw as he ran upstairs, and he quietly followed him. He peeped through his door to Rodrick, taking out a stash of money from under his bed. He sat on the bed and started counting the money.

Rodrick looked at his drumsticks which looked like they could break any moment. He shook his head and ordered the noise-cancelling headphones. Greg hid when Rodrick got out of his room.

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

The following morning Rodrick was confused when he found a few extra dollars in his stash. He turned around and saw Greg hiding and smiled. Rodrick thought he won't be pranking Greg...at least for a month. He quickly gift-wrapped the headphones and went to Y/n's home.

He could feel himself falling in love with the girl more as she brightened up as she saw the headphones and said. "Rodrick...you didn't have to buy this...these things are costly..."

Roderick interrupted her. "Take it as your early birthday gift. And now you can sit through my band practice." he shrugged. He could buy all the headphones in the world just to see her smile like that.

"What about your drumsticks?"

He blushed. Mentally he was picturing their marriage. "I can put tapes, and it will be good as new."

"I don't deserve this."

He pulled her closer to him, kissing her cheeks. "You deserve all the nice things. And I did this because I want my girl there when I practice. You are my lucky charm, my love, my heart."

Y/n blushed and asked, "Can I kiss you?"

He smirked and opened his arms. "Kiss me all you want, sugar."

Rodrick instantly felt her lips on him. He couldn't help but smile as she kissed him.

"I love you, Rodrick." She declared breathlessly.

"I love you too, Sugar."

@randodummy

A/N: I hope this was good. REBLOGS AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x autistic!reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley x fem!reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick x y/n #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley fanfic #rodrick heffley fluff #rodrick fanfic #diary of a wimpy kid imagines #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick rules #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick imagines #ask turvi #turvi writes

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miryum · 20 days

Text

"The Crime Scene"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

Y/n stood by an apartment door that was blocked off by police tape, scrolling through her pictures. She and Jason had officially been dating for three weeks, and in her opinion, it was going great. Two nights ago they had another date which consisted of going to the State Fair. Y/n had insisted that they get the famous cookies (“They’re a staple of the fair, Jaybird! It wouldn’t be the State Fair without diabetes!”), ride the giant slide (“Darling, I’m an adult male with a full-time job. As much as I wanna make you happy, I’m not riding- oh my god, oh my god … Okay, can we go again?”), and go on the skyride. The day had ended with a camera roll full of Jason and Y/n pictures, Y/n’s favourite being Jason going through the children’s faux farm where kids had to collect small packages and do chores akin to farming. They followed a dirt path and collected plastic apples, packets of corn, and swaths of real sheep wool. At the end, they cashed it all in for an ice cream sandwich. Luckily, Y/n had been able to snag a picture of Jason in a tiny apron and holding a wicker basket. His mouth was downturned, but he waited patiently in line for his promised ice cream sandwich.

“Hey. Sorry I'm late,” Cass said and Y/n looked up. “The coffee guy was…”

Y/n choked on her spit. “Assaulting your head? What is going on up there?” She referenced Cass’ hairstyle. Instead of her loose pixie-cut, Cass’ hair was ironed straight in a tight bob.

“Is it bad?” Cass grimaced.

“Before I answer that question,” Y/n said, “do you currently have a knife on you?”

“Yes, several.”

“Then I love it.” Y/n gave her a thumbs up. “It really... I mean, it’s hair. You look like Edna from The Incredibles. I'm sorry, don't stab me.” She shielded her face with her arms.

“My girlfriend, Harper, is going through beauty school. This week they’re doing hairstyles,” Cass explained. “She’s practising on me.”

“You’re still with Harper?!” Y/n giggled. “Geez, I love her! Uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but… is she passing?”

“Honestly, I don't know.”

“Well, let's get into this murder.” Y/n rubbed her hands together gleefully. “I'm hoping it's a dope one.” She flung open the door and ducked under the police tape. When she saw the apartment, she froze and her eyes widened in appreciation. “Mamma Mia. That's a bloody pizza pie.” She was referring to the scene before her, the floor smeared with blood in long lines, evidence markers covering every other metre, and the photographer was just finishing up.

“Detectives,” a detective named Al Kelly greeted them. “The Roomba was running when we got here. It smeared blood across the entire apartment.”

Cass smirked and turned to Y/n. “Is this dope enough for you?”

“It's a bloody robot, Cain.” Y/n grinned. “It's clearly a good start, but it's gonna take more than that to be certified as totally dope. Who's the victim?”

“Name is Steven Carlyle,” Kelly said.

Y/n hummed and shook her head. “Kind of a boring name. Not super dope.”

“He was a psychologist,” Kelly continued.

“Okay, a sharp turn away from dopeness, but who found the body?”

“His boss called the cops when he didn't show up to work, so he was found by Officer Fields.”

“Officer Fields?” Y/n whined. “You are seriously undoping this. Do you have anything else for me? Al?”

“The apartment was locked from the inside?” Kelly offered, wondering what Y/n wanted to hear.

“Mysterious. Dope,” Y/n nodded along.

“The alarm system was still armed.”

“Dope, dope, dope, dope. So hard to solve.” Y/n’s mouth dropped open appreciatively.

Cass asked, “any surveillance cameras?”

“Oh, yeah. Tons of them, but we checked them. No one was seen going in or out. Whoever did this was a ghost.” Al handed Cass a case file and she started flitting through it.

“Yes!” Y/n exclaimed. “A ghost! I officially declare this case ‘dope!’” She turned towards the apartment. “I love the first walkthrough of a crime scene. It's kind of like arriving at summer camp, except the lake is full of blood and your bunk mate is dead.” She paused before ambling through the room. “I think I may be bad at metaphors.”

Cass held up an interview transcript. “So after Carlyle comes home from work, the only person who even approaches his doorway is a delivery guy?”

“Yeah, but he never enters the apartment.”

Y/n gasped and pointed to an evidence marker. “Hey, Cass. Check it out. Triple digies!” The evidence marker displayed one-hundred and eighteen. “There's so much evidence, we hit triple digies!”

“Cool,” Cass commented.

“Very cool indeed,” Y/n agreed. “But you know what's not cool? Carlyle ordered his dinner from House of Lettuce. There's no way this guy knew he was gonna die! No one would want lettuce as their last meal. For example, my last meal... is gonna be any candy I get my hands on,” she shoved her hands in her pockets and extracted a pack of M&Ms.

“You just keep those in your pocket?” Cass pushed back a smile.

“We face death every day,” Y/n pointed out. “I gotta be prepared to go out on my own terms.”

“I can't even think about eating,” Cass gagged. “It smells like Tim’s armpits after he’s refused to go home for four days and is running on coffee.”

“When have you smelled Tim’s armpits…” Y/n trailed off.

A heavy set man with a thick moustache saddled up to them and said, “that's the heat wave. It speeds up the body decomp. I guess you could say this mystery is straight outta decomp......ton.”

“No.” Y/n rejected the attempted pun. “Who are you?”

“Angel Rojas. I'm running CSI and forensics.” The man took a sip of his coffee.

“If the heat is causing the smell, why don't we just turn on the air conditioning?” Y/n asked.

Rojas shook his head immediately. “That kind of air flow is gonna kick up all kinds of dust particles. That AC stays off, which means the odour in here? Only gonna get worse.” He dug a small clip out of his pocket and shoved it on his nose. “Pro tip: plug your noses. Had this bad boy custom-made to fit these sweet nosters.”

“Are you trying to abbreviate ‘nostrils’?” Y/n stared at Rojas, completely bamboozled.

“In CSI, we don't try. We do, son.”

“Son? I mean, transgender people are great, but that’s not how I identify, thank you very much.” She shot Rojas a pair of finger guns before saying, “well, it's been sort of okay meeting you. We're gonna turn our backs and ignore you now.” She and Cass loyally turned their backs.

“Hey, Y/n/n,” Cass smirked. “You know what it's time for?”

“I sure do! Y/n and Cass’ first impressions!”

Cass pointed to blood patterns on the wall. “Cast-off pattern on the far wall suggests upward knife slices. Y/n?”

Y/n knelt down next to Carlyle’s body. “Wounds on the vic's back means he didn't see the killer coming. Oof. Cass, my dearest?”

Cass shook her head and continued, “laptop, wallet, keys all in plain sight. No sign of forced entry. Doesn't connote a robbery. L/n?”

“But it does connote that our killer was waiting for Carlyle in the apartment.” She hesitated and asked, “did I just use the word ‘connote’ correctly?”

“You did.”

Y/n grinned. “Great. I’m just super smart. Please text Tim and tell him to suck it and that I am amazing and he should love me. Also, tell Jason that I’m the smarter one in the relationship and that even though he reads all the time, I am superior.”

“I’m not doing that.”

A voice frantically cried from the hallway, “I'm his mother! Let me in!”

Y/n grimaced and her jaw tensed. “Rock-paper-scissors for who has to talk to the vic's mom.”

“Deal.” The pair slammed their fists into their open palms and Y/n glared at Cass as the former held up paper and Cass showed two fingers to indicate scissors.

“It's a game of chance. How the hell do you always win?” Y/n groaned loudly.

“You always pick paper,” Cass said.

“That is not true,” Y/n scoffed. “Here, go again.” Y/n flattened her palm as paper and Cass held up scissors. “One more time. Alright, one more time. One more time. One more time. One more time.” Y/n kept holding up paper and Cass easily beat her every time with scissors. “Alright, one more time. One more time. God, this reverse psychology is a bust!” Y/n sighed and stepped outside to the hallway. “Ma'am?” she found Carlyle’s mother and smiled softly. “I'm Detective L/n. This is Detective Cain. I'm so sorry for your loss.”

“Please tell me whatever you can. Nobody will tell me anything,” Carlyle’s mother, Amy, begged.

“I really wish that I could, but we're just starting our investigation,” Y/n explained. “Now, is there anyone you can think of that would want to hurt your son?”

“No! Everybody loved Stevie. I don't know why this happened! Please, you have to find who did this.”

“We're doing everything we can,” Y/n reassured her.

“Promise me,” Amy pleaded slowly, staring helplessly at Y/n, “you'll find who did this.”

Cass stepped in and frowned, “ma'am, we can't promise-”

“Promise me!” Amy placed a hand on Y/n’s forearm and tears started forming in her eyes. “Stevie was my whole world. I'm a single mom… or, was a single mom.” She sniffed and wiped at her eyes.

Y/n took a breath and nodded. “I promise you.”

Cass falsely grinned at Amy, who was thanking Y/n profusely, and shoved Y/n back into the rotting apartment. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

“Um, exsqueeze me?” Y/n crossed her arms, offended.

“Did you really just full-on promise a victim's family member we would solve a crime? You broke the number one rule of dealing with a victim's family member. What were you thinking?”

Y/n shrugged and muttered, “I don't know. She reminded me of my mom, okay? A single mother crying in the hallway? Those are some of my frequent childhood memories.”

Cass sighed and rubbed her temples, speaking more softly, “dude, you never make a promise, because if we don't solve this, you've given her false hope, and that is way worse.”

“Normally, I would totally agree with you, but we're going to solve this case. We have so much evidence. We hit triple digies! We'll interview his friends, neighbours, and coworkers. Come on. We got this!”

“Alright, fine. But you have to deal with her if we can’t solve it.”

“Okay.”

“My goodness.” Y/n placed a hand over her heart and raised her brows in Cass’ direction. “Did Mother Gothel finally let you out of the tower?”

Cass’s hair had been lengthened significantly by hair extensions that fell down to her waist. “What?” Cass squinted at her.

“It was a Tangled burn,” Y/n explained. “Jason and I had a Disney marathon last weekend.”

“Cool, but no. Harper’s learning how to weave in hair extensions. Anyway, I talked to the neighbours. Our vic had a party three nights before the murder. I talked to everyone on the guest list. They all have alibis, so I got nothing. How did your interviews go?”

Y/n sucked in a harsh breath. “Not great. I talked to his coworkers, friends, and family. No one had a motive. Everyone loved him. The dumb jerk. RIP,” she added quickly, waving a hand around in a bad rendition of crossing herself.

“Did you promise any of them that you'd find the killer?” Cass asked, glaring at Y/n.

Y/n stared at Cass for a tense moment before admitting, “yes, his aunt. She also reminded me of my mom. Her name was Y/m/n!”

“Y/n!” Cass reprimanded.

“Look, it's gonna be fine. This apartment is full of forensic evidence! There is no way that CSI hasn't found something. I have never been more confident in my entire-” she threw open the door and groaned as the smell immediately blasted her. “I can taste the smell. Ugh. You shouldn't be able to taste smells.”

“That's the heat cookin' the blood rot right out of the floorboards.” Rojas sauntered up to them. “Set scent to simmer. Serve over rice.”

Cass gazed uncomfortably at him before saying, “just so you know, Rojas, we're not responding positively to you as a person. Maybe just give us an update on the labs.”

“Copy that. The victim was stabbed 30 times. Coroner puts the time of death between six p.m. and seven-thirty p.m. Sunday night.”

“Okay, and how many DNA matches did you find?” Y/n asked.

“None.”

“What about hair?”

“None.”

“Fingerprints?”

“None,” Rojas repeated. “I have no matches of anything on any criminal databases whatsoever.”

Cass turned to Y/n. “Still feeling good about your promise, L/n?”

“Still feeling good about that haircut, Cousin It? I’m sorry, I’m a little frustrated right now but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I love you, Cass.” Y/n took a breath after her quick speech and said, “Rojas, how did you guys not find anything? You had fifteen people in here.”

“First of all, you sound so ignorant right now. I had fourteen guys here.” He scoffed. ”Like I'd ever get approval for fifteen guys. That's insane. Second of all, don't worry, we found something good. We tested the blood. This blood splatter belongs to the victim, this to a second individual, and that to a third.”

“Oh, hells, yes. We might have some perp blood in here. This is huge! Cass, we’re gonna solve this case!” She high-fived Cass and a couple mornings later, she stood outside the apartment, and greeted her friend, “ah, good morning, Prince Harry.” Cass’ hair was a brilliant, stark red.

“You seem particularly chipper this morning,” Cass remarked.

”Indeed I am,” Y/n agreed. “Because I finally tracked down the guy who delivered our vic his final meal and, in so doing, maybe saw the other two guys who bled all over this apartment.”

“We don't know there were three people in the apartment,” Cass reminded her friend.

“Delivery guy,” a cop introduced Y/n and Cass to a young, thin man dressed in a work uniform.

“Hello, sir,” Y/n smiled kindly and shook the delivery boy’s hand. ”We'd like to ask you a couple of questions.”

The delivery boy, who must’ve been no older than twenty-five, looked around at all the uniforms and equipment there. He nervously admitted, “okay, look, I ate a couple fries out of the bag, but everybody does that.”

Y/n shook her head, fingers tucked in belt loops. “That's not why you're here.”

“Oh, shit,” Max, the delivery boy, looked petrified. “Is this about weed?” he asked quietly, like it was a secret.

Y/n’s brows shot up and asked, “should it be?”

“No?”

“You delivered food to the guy in this apartment at six-forty p.m. on Sunday,” Cass cut in. “And within the hour, he was murdered.”

“What? How? That's horrible!” Max cried.

“Did you see anything suspicious?”

“No,” Max said. “But I didn't go inside. The guy came to the door. I just gave him the food.”

“And did you see or hear anyone else in the apartment?” Y/n crossed her arms.

“No, just that one guy. He ordered, uh, three beetroot zucchini wraps,” Max stuttered.

Y/n grimaced dramatically. “Three disgusting wraps. Three disgusting bloodstains. I knew it. There were three people in there.”

Cass stepped forward. “Would you be willing to go inside and let us know if anything looks different to you?”

“Yeah. Sure, that's fine. I don't care,” Max agreed as Y/n began to open the apartment door. Max stepped in and took one look around before screaming out, “why would you show this to me? Oh, I'm too high to see this.” He gagged and his eyes fell on the fishbowl which had bloodstains on the glass. “There's blood on the fish! On the fish!”

Y/n turned to Cass and said quietly, “I always forget how weirdly numb to horrific things we are. Do you think it affects the relationships we build with others?”

“Oh, for sure,” Cass agreed, nodding stoically as Max continued wailing.

“Oh.”

Cass placed a hand on Max’s back, who was currently bent over, retching up air. “You must have seen something. You delivered the food at six-forty, and sometime before seven-thirty, Carlyle was stabbed to death.”

“Stop saying ‘stabbed!’” Max pleaded. “What I saw here forever changed me. My heart is still pounding!”

“Wait. Carlyle was wearing a smartwatch, right?” Y/n asked, whirling around to the evidence marker that stood by Carlyle’s phone. “Those things track your heart rate. If we look at his phone, we can see the exact moment his heart stopped beating. Here we go.” She opened the phone. “Activities app. And... boom! His heart rate dropped to zero at exactly six-oh-three.”

Cass’ brows furrowed and she muttered, “the food wasn't even ordered until six-sixteen, which means…”

Both detectives exclaimed, “the killer ordered the food!”

Max, who was sitting in fetal position, yelled out, “oh, god. Did I talk to a murderer?!”

“Y/n,” Cass ignored Max. “This guy saw the perp. We have to get him in front of a sketch artist.”

“Oh, yeah. I'm feeling it now, Cass.” She bounced up on the balls of her feet. “At this time tomorrow, we're gonna know exactly what our killer looks like!”

“We have no idea what our killer looks like,” Cass said the following day, bags under eyes.

“Well, that's not totally true.” Y/n shuffled through sketch renderings. “We now know that the killer might look like Sebastian Stan, Winona Ryder, or Bilbo Baggins.”

“The delivery guy kept starting over. Apparently, he's always high.” She shook her head. “I'm sorry, man. Our big break turned into nothing.”

A voice sounded from the end of the hallway. “Detectives,” Captain Wayne strode up to them, cap under his arm.

“Ah! Captain,” Y/n plastered a grin on her face. “Did you come down here to take a look at the two best detectives you've ever worked with in action?”

“The two best detectives I've ever worked with are Prince and Pennyworth,” Wayne said immediately.

“Oh.” Y/n nodded once and stared at Wayne. “You never mentioned them before.”

“They were excellent,” Wayne replied. “I'm here because Major Crimes wants the case. I was hoping to tell them you have some leads. I overheard you mention a Bill Bo-Baggins. Should we bring him in?”

Y/n stifled a chuckle. “Well, as much as I would love to meet him, he is not a suspect.”

“Okay, so who is?”

Y/n swallowed and said, “at this time? No one. But... we are currently investigating no leads.” She drew her lips in and waited for the disappointment.

“So you have nothing,” Wayne restated.

Cass glared at Y/n. “Not nothing. L/n made a new best friend. The vic's mom. She promised her she'd solve the case.”

Wayne pursed his lips. “That's a rookie mistake.”

Y/n held up her hands defensively. “Okay. Fine. Maybe I'm not Pierce and Pennyweather.”

“Prince and Pennyworth,” Wayne corrected. “And they would've remembered your name after one mention.”

“Because we're memorable, and they're not.” Y/n held up a hand to Cass for a high-five. “Turned it around.” Cass shook her head and Y/n dropped her hand, continuing, “alright, look, Captain. Cain and I are gonna solve this case. The answer is in this room.” She gestured around to the bloody apartment. “We just have to focus and let the room speak to us.” She shouted out to the open house, “isn't that right, room?”

“When you talk to the room,” Wayne deadpanned, “I lose even more confidence in you.”

“Why?” Y/n shrugged then turned to beg her Capitan, “can you please just buy us some more time? Sir, I feel like we've earned this.”

Wayne sighed heavily and conceded, “work fast.”

Y/n shot him a thumbs up and beamed. “Got it.” She turned back to the apartment and rubbed her hands together. She said to Cass, “okay. Let's look at the scene like we're seeing it for the first time with fresh eyes.” She jumped to the floor, next to where Carlyle’s body used to lay. “Vic was face down.”

Cass stood in the kitchen, analysing the blood on the wall. “Cast-off splatter suggests upward knife slices.”

“No signs of forced entry. Laptop, wallet, keys were all there,” Y/n said, staring at the desk where all the items lay.

“Doesn't connote a robbery,” Cass finished.

“Wait a minute. Have we said this already?” Y/n looked around. “Are we having the exact same conversation?”

“Yep.”

“Cool.” Y/n’s jaw twitched. “Moving on. Windows and doors locked from the inside. Nobody in or out.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Think, think, think... oh!” She snapped her fingers and her head whipped upward to focus on the ceiling. “The upstairs neighbour and his best friend drilled through the ceiling, murdered Carlyle, bled all over the apartment, then climbed back up and sealed the hole behind them!”

Rojas spoke up from behind them. “Negative, we would have found construction debris and microscopic paint fibres. The only thing that needs patching... is that theory.”

Y/n waved him away. “Okay. New idea. We're gonna get inside the mind of the killer. We eat the veggie wraps!” She opened the days old food container and unwrapped the veggie wraps. A shiver ran up her spine as she took in the disgusting looking food. “Here we go,” she hesitantly took a bite of the wrap and immediately gagged. “Oh, this sick bastard,” she groaned. “Oh, man. This is one twisted motherfucker. Oh, the beets are raw. This guy is demented, Cass!” She harshly swallowed down the food before throwing away the rest of the veggie wrap, glaring at it. “How can someone stomach that…?”

A week later, Y/n stood in the middle of the room and held her arms out wide.“Okay. All we have to do is figure out what kind of person can walk by cameras without being seen. Someone camouflaged as a wall.” She glanced around, squinting at the walls, as if she could find the person.

“Unlikely,” Cass said.

“Harry Potter and his invisibility cloak,” Y/n said proudly.

Cass pointed out, “Not a real person.”

“Well, uh, how do you know, Cain? Have you searched all of Britain for a magical castle? I didn’t think so.”

A couple days later, Y/n sat on the kitchen counter, legs crossed and wearing a tank top and pyjama shorts. She suddenly gasped loudly and waved her hands around. “My god, Cain, come here. Look at the blood spatter. Do you see what I see?”

Cass walked over from the bedroom and wondered, “Uh, blood?”

“I think I just made a connection,” Y/n said. “The number three is everywhere. Three people. Three types of blood. And guess what the tax was on the veggie wraps? Three dollars and nineteen cents, but if you ignore the nineteen, then it's three!” she cried out.

Cass shook her head. “Okay. You've officially lost your mind.”

Y/n jumped off the counter and hissed, “what? Who told you that? Was it room?”

“No. It's the fact that you think the room has a voice and also you're working in your PJs!”

“To beat the heat, Cass!” Y/n shouted. “To beat the heat! If we can't turn on the AC, this isn’t crazy, it's just smart.”

Cass took a deep breath and said quietly, “Y/n, I gave the case to Major Crimes.”

“What?” Y/n’s lips parted in disbelief. “Cass, y-you can't do that. I promised Amy.”

“Yeah, and now you can't let it go,” Cass argued. She opened the apartment door and a group of men in uniforms and windbreakers entered. “The scene's yours, guys. I'm sorry, Y/n/n,” she said softly. “It's over.”

Y/n scoffed and marched out. “Okay, fine! I'll leave. Come on, room!” she called out to the apartment.

“You left your pants,” Cass said loudly.

“I don't care!” Y/n shouted back.

Cass slid into the briefing room, noticing Y/n who was crouched on the floor. “Hey, Y/n?”

Y/n popped up and gasped. “Ah! Hello, Cassandra, my coworker and dearest friend.”

Cass shoved her hands into her pockets. “Look, I know you're mad at me, but I only gave away that case to help you. You were acting like a lunatic.”

Y/n placed a bottle of ketchup on one of the tables. “Don't even worry about it. You were totally right. I was in too deep, and honestly, I feel so free not having to work that case anymore, so thank you.” She didn’t know what to do, so she gave Cass an awkward little bow.

Cass smiled, relieved. “Cool, you're welcome. Uh, what's up with all the ketchup?”

“It's, um… for my hot dog.” Y/n nodded slowly. She began to push Cass out of the room. “Anyways, this has been a great chat, but I better get back to my hot dog.”

Cass frowned and pushed past her and froze at the sight of Stephanie who was laying on the floor, covered in ketchup. “Oh, wow.” Cass said slowly, eyes wide.

“There's nothing crazy about this, sister,” Y/n said. “It's the crime scene!” She pointed to the differently arranged tables in the briefing room. “There’s the stove, the kitchen island, blood,” she splattered some more ketchup on a table. “And of course, the body,” she flourished towards Steph.

“Hi, Cass!” Steph waved at her friend. “I'm the body.”

“You gave away my case, but guess what?” She let out a ‘boo-yah’ and held up two fingers. “I spent two months in that apartment. I can recreate it in my sleep.”

“Have you slept?” Cass crossed her arms.

“No,” Y/n said.

Dick walked into the room and looked around, shocked at the mess. “What the hell is going on here?!”

“Y/n’s gone insane because she promised the victim's mom she'd solve her son's murder,” Cass explained.

Dick placed his hands on his hips, disappointed. “Seriously? You never promise a victim's relative anything.” He took a breath and commanded, “clean it up and get out. You've lost your mind,” he decided.

“That's not true!” Y/n retorted. “I'm solving this.”

“Hey, sweetheart?” Jason placed a comforting hand on Y/n’s back. He had gotten a concerning text from Cass that had persuaded Jason to stop by Y/n’s apartment during his lunch break. He had originally knocked on the door, but when she didn’t answer, he had used the key she gave him for emergencies.

Y/n jumped at the contact and whirled around, eyes bloodshot and the bags under her eyes were darker than ever. “Jason? When did you get here?” Before her sat the blueprints of Carlyle’s apartment.

Jason’s eyes widened at her appearance before his expression softened sadly. “Oh, darling, how much sleep have you gotten?”

“Uh… when was Monday?”

“Four days ago,” Jason answered gently. “Come on,” he gently helped her out of her chair and led her to the bedroom. “Can we get some rest?” Y/n nodded reluctantly and allowed him to tuck her into bed. “I’m just gonna stay here to make sure you get sleep well,” Jason whispered.

“Okay…” Y/n soon fell asleep, a small smile tugging on Jason’s lips. He returned to Y/n’s living room and sat down on the couch, turning the TV on, making sure the volume was low so as to not disturb her.

However, an hour or so later, Jason heard some rustling from Y/n’s room. Worried, he crept to Y/n’s room and peered in. When he saw what his girlfriend was doing, he sighed heavily. “Y/n, my darling, please go to sleep.”

Y/n was using the blueprints as a blanket, reading over them intently, eyes blurry and exhausted. “Never,” she muttered. Jason took the blueprints away from her before typing a text message on his phone.

That afternoon, Cass stopped by Y/n’s apartment. She was greeted by Jason who led her inside and motioned to the bathroom. Y/n was sitting in the tub, cuddled in a blanket, and muttering to herself. Cass sighed and knelt down next to the bathtub. “L/n,” she said. “So, I can see how much this case means to you. I was thinking that maybe I could help you solve it.”

Y/n glanced up and the blanket fell off her shoulders. Jason came up behind her and rewrapped the blanket around her. “Really?” she asked. “But I thought Major Crimes just labelled it a cold case.”

“They did,” Cass confirmed. “But clearly, you’re not gonna let it go. And hey, if they’re out of the way, then we can take all the credit ourselves.” She smirked loosely and Y/n beamed.

The detective leapt out of the bath and wrapped her arms around her friend. “Thank you, Cass!”

The following afternoon, Y/n and Cass arrived at Carlyle’s apartment. “That's weird,” Cass hummed. “The police tape's already gone.”

“Oh, yeah, Major Crimes released the scene yesterday.” The pair walked into the apartment as Y/n said, “but I'm sure they haven't had time to clean up the evidence…” she trailed off, looking at the perfectly spotless rooms.

“Oh, shit, they emptied the place out.” Cass said. “Nothing left in here. I can't believe this is how it ends.”

“Yeah. Is it weird that I miss the smell?” Y/n’s lips turned up in a reminiscing smile. “Wait a minute, do you hear that?” Her head tilted to the side as she tried to figure out if the soft humming noise was coming from the apartment, or if she really was crazy and it was all in her head. “I've spent six hundred hours in this room, and I have never heard that sound.”

“It's because the air conditioning's never been turned on. It's coming from that vent,” Cass pointed to a large vent in the wall.

Y/n immediately took out a swiss army knife and unscrewed the bolts. She faithfully got down on her hands and knees and crawled into the huge vent. “I don't see anything,” she called back to Cass. “Wait, there's a bend. Oh, my god.” She came across a pack of plastic water bottles and some empty chip bags. “There's food and water in here!”

Half an hour later, Cass and Y/n stood in the precinct, Cass’ laptop propped open in front of them. Cass said, “we never saw the killer leave this apartment because he never left. But he couldn't have survived in there for months. That's insane.”

“He wasn't back there for months,” Y/n explained. “He just waited for the body to be discovered and then snuck out sometime after that.”

“But this place was crawling with cops.”

“Which is exactly what he wanted,” Y/n scratched at her nose. “He snuck out dressed like a cop.”

“Even if he had a uniform, somebody would've recognized him,” Cass said, thinking logically. In order for them to figure this case out, there couldn’t be any holes in the story.

“Not if his face was covered.”

“By a Hazmat suit!” Cass’ mouth fell open. “The CSI guys! Rojas said he had fourteen techs, but didn't you count fifteen?”

“I did count fifteen!” Y/n exclaimed loudly. “My maths was right! Suck it, Mrs. Wilson! She was my Algebra two teacher. She was actually very sweet. She believed in me.” Cass shot her a look and Y/n remembered, “oh. Yeah. Here's the security footage. Play the tape.” Cass pressed play and Y/n narrated along to the video, “okay, so there's us arriving. Alright…. Wait. Go back.” She pointed to the one guy on the screen. “Look at this guy. All the other techs are wearing their little booties, but he's not. Follow that guy.”

“Where's the footage from the grocery across the street?” Cass muttered to herself, pulling up the camera logs.

“We have that?” Y/n asked, astonished. “That is so crazy. We’re under surveillance at all times. I'm sure it's fine and it won't backfire and ruin society.” She shook her head, ridding herself of the thoughts. “Zoom in on his face. Hm… that man isn’t CSI. But he is about to say… CS-bye.” She grinned at her pun and announced, “okay, Cass. You know what it's time for!”

The friends high-fived each other and said, “Cass and Y/n’s final impressions!”

“The dude’s a hit man. He snuck into the apartment during the party several nights earlier, hid in the vent for three days, then emerged and murdered Carlyle. Y/n?”

Y/n took over and added, “he then spilled bags of blood that he stole from a blood bank all over the floor and turned on the victim's Roomba to make the crime scene as messy as possible. Cass?”

“The messy scene meant there'd be extra crime techs, allowing the perp to sneak out in a Hazmat suit, which records show he bought online. Two weeks before the crime was committed. My only question, who was behind all this?”

Two days later, a man by the name of Warren Lawford (“Really? That’s the most ironic name ever!”) sat in the interrogation room and said, “I was hired by a depressed grocer.”

“Wow.” Y/n muttered. “Dopeness taking a late hit here, but we still got you! See you at the sentencing, peace, and we're out!” She held up a peace sign before she and Cass swept out of the room, looking smug.

Amy waited for them outside, face contorting into relief when Cass explained that Lawford was pleading guilty. “Oh, thank god. But why did he kill Stevie? Was he doing something bad?”

“Not at all,” Y/n reassured her. “Steve dropped one of his clients that was too emotionally attached to him and the client went kinda crazy and issued a hit on him.”

“Well, is anybody going after him?”

“If they're not, then I will. I promise you,” Y/n said softly.

Amy’s eyes filled with tears and she spread her arms open. “Come here,” she sniffed, wrapping Y/n in a big hug, electing a squeak from the detective.

“Why are you promising her?” Cass mouthed to Y/n from out of Amy’s line of sight.

“I can't help myself!” Y/n whispered harshly.

“Goodbye, detectives,” Amy grinned before exiting the precinct.

“Take care,” Y/n called after the woman.

“I gotta say,” Cass huffed a chuckle. “We would not have solved that case if you hadn't gotten involved emotionally.”

“Think we'd be better cops if we did that all the time?” Y/n asked.

“Absolutely not, never again.”

“Yeah, it was a total nightmare.”

#title of your sex tape #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc x reader #dcu #b99 #b99/dcu #slow burn

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raineandsky · 22 days

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Hi, Hello! It's me again!!

Would you PLEASE write a story where a hero tries his best to hide his severe injury from the Villain? The Villain tries to know&patch up the wound, but the hero gets all nervous and tries to run away. It would be DELICIOUS if the hero got injured somehow because of the Villain(directly or indirectly).

I know it's too cliche, but I would love it if it's in your style!

You don't have feel pressure to write this, of course, and as always, I'm always rooting for ya!! Thank you for writing such wonderful stories. I always appreciate it!

hi hello!! there's no such thing as a cliche in this house - just things we read and write a lot because we enjoy them :D thank you again for the request!

“Jesus Christ, [Hero],” the villain spits venomously, “why the hell would you hide that?”

For a moment, the hero’s only answer is ragged breathing. Then, “I knew you’d be weird about it.”

Of course the villain’s going to be weird about it. The hero’s suit is painted crimson, his hand shaking as he tries to cover what he can of the damage. Which isn’t much, seeing as his hand is hand-sized and the staining is moving well beyond that range now.

The villain turns to root through his bag, wrangling a roll of bandage from one of the pockets. “I caught you bad, didn’t I?” he says starkly. “I- I didn’t realise how bad it was, Jesus—”

The hero’s attention is still on the wound in his side. “I thought this would’ve been a good thing for you,” he says tensely. “I thought the whole point of these fights was to kill the other person.”

The villain has been carefully not hurting the hero too badly in the hopes of avoiding this exact conversation. “Just because I’m a villain,” he says slowly, “doesn’t mean I’m inclined to literal murder.”

He takes a step towards the hero, met with an awkward stumble back from the other. “N-No,” the hero says weakly. “No, it’s not that bad.”

“Don’t be stupid.” The villain feels awfully like he’s talking to a child. A stupid, annoying child with zero self-preservation skills. “You’re bleeding out all over this lovely pavement. Come here.”

It’s like the idea of going anywhere near the villain is too much. The hero turns and breaks into a staggering run.

The villain starts after him, but he doesn’t get far before the hero’s wound gets the better of him. He stumbles once, and with one heroic attempt to recover, keels straight over. The villain’s heart leaps traitorously as his nemesis meets the unforgiving concrete.

“Did you just die?” the villain asks severely as he reaches the hero’s side, but his heartbeat finally slows a little when the hero answers him with a pained groan. “You did the exact opposite of what I told you, you idiot.”

“I don’t listen to villains,” the hero retorts weakly.

“Well, some villains have first aid training, so maybe think about that next time you want to ignore me.”

The villain wishes the wound was on the hero’s back, because then he wouldn’t feel the stare burning into the side of his face as he finally unravels a line of bandaging. He tries to concentrate on the work—hold the edges of the bandage, make sure it covers beyond the wound—but the feeling is too uncomfortable. He glances at the hero and immediately regrets it.

“This is awfully nice of you,” the hero says quietly, “for a villain.”

Secure the bandaging with tape. The villain, thankfully, gets to break away to grab his bag again. “I need the practise,” he lies.

“Ha.” The hero coughs, his face taut, his hand hovering nervously as the villain bats him away from the wound. “If you needed the practise, you would’ve hit me harder long before now.”

The villain, for a moment, considers the possibility of just leaving him on the floor. A bit rude to be bringing this up when the villain’s in the midst of doing him a favour, but… a point that’s hard to dodge. So hard to dodge, in fact, he has to avoid it by doing what he does best.

“Says you,” the villain sneers as he unrolls some tape. “Trying to run away from medical attention seems counter-intuitive, doesn’t it?”

It works like a dream. The hero’s gaze finally falls away sheepishly. “Yeah, well, imagine what the agency would say. Being attended to by a villain is probably a broken rule in my contract somewhere.”

“Uh huh. If you say so.”

The hero’s eyes turn back to the villain as he carefully lays the last strip of tape on his side. “I think you don’t hit me hard because you like me.”

The insolence of the comment makes the villain’s gaze snap back to him, just in time to see the shit-eating grin on the hero’s face. “Speak for yourself,” the villain retorts. “You’re the one who ran away from the prospect of me touching you.”

The grin recedes into nothing, and the villain adorns it in the hero’s stead. “I’ll try not hit you so hard next time,” he adds after a moment.

“That’d be nice.” The hero eases himself upright, patting the bandaging testily. “I’ll try not let you hit me so hard next time, too. I never want to do this again.”

God, the villain can’t believe he’s reached the day he agrees with a hero.

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #i took some Creative Liberties i hope thats ok!!#betas are comin back again for me book too wahoo!!#i am in the trenches editing this thang #people have made too many good comments and suddenly i have a 9-5 just reading notes and editing rip

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thetarttfuldickhead · 4 months

Text

A week or two after the Dubai Air protest Sam happens upon Jamie lounging listlessly on a bench in the otherwise deserted gym. He’s not doing any exercise, just sitting there and staring out into nothingness with a curiously vacant look on his face.

Sam hesitates, hovering in the doorway. He’s come for a little bit of extra weights before heading home, and he hadn’t expected anyone to be here this late, least of all Jamie. It’s been a long day and Sam’s not sure if he’s up for dealing with the (possibly) reformed bully right now. Even if they are edging towards friendly, and even if that’s no small thing given what’s come between them before, there’s still an undercurrent of charged uncertainty to their interactions, a stilted hesitancy to their cautious politeness and careful attempts at casual camaraderie.

Jamie hasn’t explicitly told Sam that he’s sorry for the things he’s put him through. Sam has decided that he will not let his decision to give Jamie another chance be contingent upon this. It’s very tiring, being angry and resentful of the other’s presence: so much easier to accept the taped up logo for the peace offering it was, and let that be Jamie’s apology.

(If it rankles, it only rankles a little.)

Reminding himself of his decision to let bygones be bygones, and that they won’t ever get anywhere if they don’t actually learn to talk, Sam steps into the gym. Asks as he would any other glum-looking team mate he’d unexpectedly happened upon, “Are you all right, Jamie?”

Holds himself ready, holds himself steady, if Jamie should bare his teeth and bite, now that there’s no one around to see it.

But Jamie only starts a little, like he hadn’t noticed Sam or he’s surprised to be voluntarily addressed. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m good, man. Great, you know. It’s just… I’m a bit tired, I guess.“ He pauses, then his face suddenly collapses and he gives Sam the most plaintive of looks. “It’s just so fucking exhausting being nice all the time. I don’t know how you do it, mate.”

Ah. Sam tactfully doesn’t say that it’s usually no effort for him and that he doesn’t really understand how it could possible come that hard for anyone.

He also doesn’t point out that not actively being mean to people isn’t quite the same as being nice.

Because Jamie is trying, isn’t he, even if it’s painfully evident that he still needs to try, that it doesn’t come quite naturally.

“Bit like when Spike had that chip in his head and had no choice but to team up with the good guys, isn’t it?” Colin had muttered a few days after their wayward striker had re-joined them, and yes, Sam had had to agree: it is a bit like that.

But there’s no chip in Jamie’s head (Sam is pretty sure). He’s here of his own free will, trying to be a good team mate and a better person because he wants to be. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?

Sam is pretty sure his dad would say it does. Sam wants to be the sort of person that lets it count.

And Jamie is looking genuinely dejected, in a way that has Sam feel a small surge of something that isn’t affection but isn’t too unlike it either. A little bit of pity mingling with amusement; enough that he’s moved to brave sitting down next to Jamie.

“Well, I have had more practise,” he says lightly. “I bet you will be really good at it if you give it a bit more time.”

“Yeah?” It’s offered casually, but there’s no disguising the faint hope in it. Sam can feel Jamie watching him out of the corner of his eye.

“Of course,” he says, and then, feeling bold, “You are Jamie Tartt. Aren’t you good at everything?”

A pause, and Sam holds his breath, praying that Jamie will understand that he’s being teased rather than mocked—

Then Jamie snorts, a sound halfway to a chuckle. “Yeah, man,” he retorts, bumping his shoulder against Sam’s, very carefully. “I’ll be the fucking best at being nice. Swear down, I’ll be so good I make you look like Geezer Scrooge.”

“That, I’d like to see,” Sam says drily; says sincerely. Standing, he nods towards the weight bench. “Do you think you can be good enough not to let me be crushed to death while you spot me?”

For a moment, Jamie looks taken aback, and Sam braces himself for a snide retort to his presumption – but it doesn’t come. Instead Jaime’s face clears, and he gives a sharp nod.

“Course, mate,” he says, and rises to follow Sam.

#i absolutely think that jamie owes sam a proper apology #and that sam is EXTREMELY within his rights to take a whole lot longer warming up to jamie than he does #but sam really is the sweetest person #--to the point where he might sometimes struggle to name his anger or set boundaries--#and sometimes in the future i expect them to have a proper talk about everything #but for now have some awkward and hesitant bonding #because that is like catnip to me #and my habit was re-awakened by that gif set i reblogged earlier #sam obisanya #jamie tartt #sam & jamie #ficlet #my stuff

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nichuuu · 1 year

Text

Beats Me - 3: Caravan

Ryujin & Karina

Tags: Smut, FemxFem, Threesome, Dom Ryujin, Sub Karina, Teasing, Face-fuck, rough-sex, creampie

Your hand stung at Ryujin’s touch. A hiss left your mouth as she doused your wound with disinfectant, a string of cusses following suit as she dabbed it dry.

“Damn it Squeaker… Why do you still practise when your hand’s already fucked?” Ryujin huffed in frustration.

“S-Sorry…” You apologised meekly. You winced as Ryujin tightened the bandage around your hand.

Your friend sighed heavily, taping the bandage on your hand in place.

“Don’t push yourself too hard… I know you want to perfect your part, but practising this way won’t help,” She cautioned you, shutting the first aid kit. You examined your bandaged hand, wiggling your fingers to check your range of motion.

“Did I wrap it too tight?” Ryujin checked. You shook your head.

“I-It’s fine… Thanks,” You smiled. The short hair girl patted you on the shoulder.

“You ought to rest up… You’ve really been going at it these few days.”

You chuckled sheepishly.

“Well… I guess I just want Yeji to stop yelling at me…”

“A true people pleaser aren’t ya?” She mused.

You managed a small laugh.

“You could call it that.”

Ryujin put the first aid kit back in the corner of the recording room. She walked back and sat back down next to you on the couch.

“How bad does it hurt?” She asked.

“Not too bad… Just stings a little, but I can play,” You informed her.

“Let’s focus on healing before playing, shall we?”

“B-But… What about prac—”

Ryujin wrapped a hand around your shoulder and pulled you towards her. Your head landed on her chest. She ruffled your hair.

“You need rest, not practise!” She chided you. You used your un-injured hand to free yourself from her grip.

“Alright, alright! I-I won’t practise!” You affirmed her dodging her second grab.

Ryujin smirked.

“Good boy,” She praised, patting your head. “I will kill you if I ever see you anywhere near that kit, capiche?”

You chuckled and nodded. Ryujin seemed to be satisfied, and she got up on her feet.

“It’s getting late, we should get out of here!” She declared. “I’m grabbing dinner with Karina. Join me.”

After a shitty day like today, grabbing a meal with Shin Ryujin didn’t sound like a bad idea… She wasn’ exactly requesting either way. You packed your sticks back into your bag and headed out with your bassist.

It had been a few weeks since your gig at the bar. Ever since the events that happened backstage, Eunbi had made it a point to expand the band’s repertoire in terms of musicality. She unveiled her new idea to you over breakfast the morning after your session with her. The following day, new, purely instrumental songs had been added to the song list. There were more things to perfect now. Amongst the songs that had been brought in, there were quite a few jazz tunes in there. All of them required quick hands and feet, as well as a saxophone and trumpet player…

While Eunbi scoured the campus to find a capable trumpeter and a saxophonist, you dedicated the time you had to perfect your part. Unfortunately for you, after a poor trial run on one of the songs, Yeji had taken the liberty to “supervise” you.

From the moment she stepped foot into the studio on your first one-on-one session with her, you had a gut feeling that she would make your life a living hell. And you were unfortunately right.

Your perception of Yeji changed. She was no longer scary to you. Instead, she was incredibly fucking scary. She’d cuss you out over the littlest things, critique your playing when you were a split second late to enter, hurl insults at you when the tempo became too fast for you, and the list goes on…

Strangely enough, her snarky, hot-headed attitude towards you seemed to motivate you to get better. You were determined to obtain the scary girl’s approval, hence you practised daily, even when Yeji didn’t expect you to come in. You never skipped a day, drumming till your hands, arms, legs and feet were sore.

In the first week, you blistered your right hand, earning you a small tongue lashing from Eunbi when she saw you playing with a minor injury. In the second week, two more blisters occupied your hand, but you hid it well enough from your band members.

That day, you tore a chunk of skin off the bottom of your palm. Ryujin happened to walk to check on you, only to see you cradling your sore hand and hurling profanities at the top of your lungs. She rushed over to assist you immediately, making you appreciate her even more.

It had been a painful few weeks for you to say the least… You felt like you earned that dinner treat.

You headed down the stairs with Ryujin and beelined it for the campus gate. You found Jimin sitting on one of the benches, idly looking at her phone as you approached.

“Sup baby girl?” Ryujin called to her. Karina’s head snapped up.

“There you are!” The girl exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “I’ve been waiting for your bitch-ass… Oh hi, Myeong-seok.”

You waved. The pianist caught sight of your bandaged hand.

“What the hell happened to you?” Jimin gasped. You quickly hid your hand behind your back.

“O-Oh… Just a small injury,” You lied. Ryujin slapped your arm.

“Stop the cap,” She scoffed. “He fucked up his hand drumming too fast.”

You shot her a look. She raised her eyebrows.

“What? Are you seriously planning to hide an injury like that?” She grilled you. You wanted to argue, but you couldn’t exactly justify your actions.

“Oh gosh… Are you okay?” Karina asked, voice laced with concern. You nodded.

“I’ll be fine… Just gotta be careful…”

Karina sighed.

“This is because of Yeji, isn’t it? We gotta talk to her and get her to tone it down. She’s being too harsh!”

You silently agreed with Karina, but you also understood Yeji’s motive for being such an ass to you. She struck you as a girl that strived for perfection in everything she did. 99.99% was never enough for her. She always wanted 101% out of herself, expecting it from everyone else she worked with as well. Your high school’s band conductor was just like her, so you knew that she had good intentions.

“We’ll tackle that problem when we can,” Ryujin told Jimin. “For now, let’s go eat. I’m starving!”

Karina looked like she wanted to continue discussing the matter, but she must have decided against it.

“Alright… Is Myeong-seok eating with us?” Jimin inquired.

“Y-Yep,” You confirmed. Karina nodded.

“Right then. Let’s go.”

The three of you took a bus into the city. Jimin brought you all to a fried chicken restaurant that served one hell of a bucket of spicy chicken. Ryujin being Ryujin, ordered a glass of beer for everyone, but you kindly declined.

“Why don’t you want to drink?” Ryujin interrogated you after the waiter had left.

“I… I just don’t feel like it,” You said. Truthfully, you were just afraid that you might accidentally end up in bed with Ryujin again if you had a little bit too much to drink. Prevention is better than cure.

“Tsk. Wimp,” Ryujin teased you.

“Let him be Ryujin,” Karina chided.

“Fine… But only cause you said it darling…” The short-haired girl winked. Karina rolled her eyes and looked away.

Ryujin laughed.

“Damn girl… Why are you so hard to flirt with?” Ryujin asked innocently.

“Cause I don’t feel like flirting with you,” Karina retorted.

“Ah… So you’re just playing hard to get!” Ryujin chuckled. “I like a tough catch…”

Karina shot her friend a dirty look.

“W-What? N-No! I-I’m… Ugh! Forget it!”

Jimin looked away, doing her best to look upset but the blush on her pale face really wasn’t helping.

Yoo Jimin and Shin Ryujin shared a friendship dynamic that confounded you more than any other chart had. Ryujin was oddly flirty with the other girl, and Karina didn’t seem to enjoy it—but never asked Ryujin to stop. It was truly an odd bond to try and wrap your head around, but you figured that you’d understand them better after spending more time with them.

The buckets of chicken and the infamous hot wings came after a short wait. You understood why Jimin wanted you to try the fiery fried chicken. It was packed full of flavour, but you quickly regretted the first bite a few seconds after you took it. Thankfully, the restaurant gave out free shots of milk to customers who couldn’t take the heat, and you gratefully threw back a few shots of milk, quelling the fire in your mouth.

You opted to stick to the classic fried chicken. Ryujin and Jimin on the other hand, busied themselves with the spicy delight. Watching with hidden amusement, you witnessed the two girls experience an entire emotional roller-coaster as they consumed those pieces of chicken. You didn’t understand why they were torturing themselves like that. However, you didn’t really mind watching the two fan their burning mouths as you silently munched on your own chicken. It was quite entertaining after all…

After the two girls had recovered from the spice—with the assistance of milk and beer of course—the three of you finished up and sat in the restaurant, talking over drinks. Karina seemed to be friends with the Ahjumma that ran the place, judging by how she would refill her and Ryujin’s glasses with more beer whenever she noticed that they were empty. You were content with sipping on your banana milk—graciously given to you by the Ahjumma as well—as you made conversation with the girls. Your time with the band had let you become tense when around your members, so you found it easier to talk to the two about life and other things that interested you.

As the night dragged on, the girls downed more and more glasses of beer. You wanted to caution them against getting drunk, but you knew that Ryujin would just call you a wuss and throw back another glass. You could only watch helplessly as they drank, laughed, talked—then drank even more. You had a bad feeling about all of this.

One of your main concerns would be how they would get home safely. As much as you wanted to trust Korea's street security, you knew deep down that some men would get a little eager if they saw two drunk girls stumbling down the pavement. The thought of what could happen sent shivers down your spine.

And so you ended up having to guide the two girls back to Karina’s place. You thanked god they didn’t get drunk, but they were a little woozy for sure. They held each other's arms, giggling excessively while chattering rather noisily. You walked behind the two girls, feeling a little second-hand embarrassed each time a member of the public shot a glare towards them.

The two eventually managed to stumble back to Karina’s apartment. You helped Jimin to unlock her door—she wasn’t exactly in the best state to do so herself—and opened the door for the two girls. You waited for them to stumble in.

Just as you were about to shut the door and leave, a hand grabbed your shirt.

“Get your ass in here Squeaky…”

You were yanked into Jimin’s apartment against your will. As much as you wanted to leave, Ryujin’s grip on your arm made it impossible for you to go anywhere. You could only sigh and shut the apartment door behind you. The two stumbled into the centre of Jimin’s living room, laughing over something.

“Let’s have more booze!” Ryujin suggested. You didn’t hesitate to butt in.

“I-I don’t think you should…” You advised. Ryujin raised an eyebrow.

“Why? Scared you’ll get drunk and fuck my brains out again Squeaker?”

Karina gasped.

“Ryujin! You had sex with Myeong-seok?!” She inquired. Ryujin smiled and put an arm over Karina’s shoulder.

“I did… And it was fucking amazing~”

“R-Ryujin!” You chided her. You could remember very clearly that Ryujin was the one that made you swear not to tell anyone about your fiasco.

“What? Am I wrong?” Ryujin giggled. “Come on Myeong-seok… You remember how much I milked you!”

A blush made its way onto your face. You looked away to hide it, but Ryujin caught on quickly.

“Awww… Look at him, Karina! He’s blushing!” She teased you. Karina’s reply was to cross her arms. She turned away from Ryujin, letting out an audible huff. Ryujin seemed amused.

“Hey… Are you upset about something?” The short-haired girl questioned. Karina looked back at Ryujin for a moment before turning away again.

“You fucked him… Without me…”

Ryujin raised her eyebrows.

“Oh… So you’re jealous?” Ryujin concluded. Karina didn’t even bother to hide the blush.

“I… I’m…” Karina stammered. She struggled to formulate her sentence for a bit before letting out a flustered sigh.

“Fine… M-Maybe I am a little jealous… But only j-just a little…”

You weren’t too sure if what you heard was correct. It felt a little bit like a conversation that two characters would have in your fever dream.

Ryujin smirked and wrapped her arms around Karina’s waist.

“Look at you… So red and flustered over me~” Ryujin giggled. Karina didn’t seem to be fighting back against her friends like she usually would.

“I-I’m not flustered…” Karina insisted. Ryujin chuckled.

“Yes, you are darling… Don’t deny it…”

Karina opened her mouth to say something. Ryujin seemed to have other ideas.

In a flash, Ryujin had her left palm resting on Karina’s jaw. Her index and ring fingers had slid into Karina’s open mouth, playing with the other girl's lips.

“You want me… You want me again don’t you Jimin?” Ryujin whispered. Karina’s lips closed around Ryujin’s fingers, a soft sigh escaping her lips as Ryujin pulled Jimin back. The roundness of Karina’s ass flushed against Ryujin’s full hips. Ryujin, emboldened by Karina’s lack of resistance, let her hand snake down the other girl's body. Her palm found Karina’s right ass cheek and squeezed it.

Karina gasped, mouth opening wider as the sound left her throat. Ryujin dug her fingers deep into Jimin, her digits wiggling around inside the pianist’s mouth.

“Tell me that you want me Jimin…” Ryujin demanded airily, her right hand beginning to drift upwards to the bust on Jimin’s chest. “Tell me that you want me to take your hot body right here, right now and have you screaming so loud that your neighbours can hear you…”

Ryujin squeezed Karina’s right breast through her shirt. Jimin moaned a lot louder this time, her voice muffled by Ryujin’s fingers.

“R-Ryujin…” She called her friend.

“Tell me…” Ryujin hissed.

Karina closed her eyes, breath getting shallower by the minute. Ryujin bent down slightly, licking and kissing Jimin’s neck. Her fingers stayed in Jimin’s mouth, moving ever so gently between the small whines from Jimin.

Karina finally folded.

“I want you… I want you so bad Ryujin…” The pianist breathed. Ryujin was satisfied with the answer, slipping her slick fingers out of her companion’s mouth. Her right hand left Jimin’s full chest and Ryujin took a step back. Something flashed behind those eyes.

“Strip,” Ryujin commanded.

Karina reacted almost instantly, hands finding the hem of her shirt and pulling the fabric up and over her head. She undid her jeans hastily, pulling them down to her ankles and kicking them away.

Ryujin licked her lips, slowly circling the scantily clad Karina. You could see her eyes wandering joyously, soaking in the sight of Jimin’s tight yet perfectly curvy body.

“Come here Squeaker,” She urged you. You blinked, snapping out of your trance.

“W-What?” You sputtered. Ryujin rolled her eyes.

“Just get your ass over here man.”

You were hesitant but slowly walked towards the bassist. When you were near enough, she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to her.

“Have a good look Squeaky… Tell me what you like about her…” Ryujin whispered into your ear. You gulped.

“Ryujin I—”

She shushed you, a gentle finger on your lips.

“Take in that body… Then tell me what you like the most about her…”

You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander around Karina. You had seen her in baggy clothing most of the time, hiding her large chest behind loose fitting sweaters and hoodies. She would wear tight jeans every now and then, accentuating her ass and the fullness of her thighs.

But this… This was something else altogether…

Karina’s pale, milky skin glimmered slightly in her apartment light. Those round breasts were squeezed together in the lacy bra she wore, providing you with ample cleavage to stare at. She wasn’t as endowed as Eunbi was, but she had quite the pair in your books. Her tight tummy glowed warmly under the lighting, revealing her toned abs and cute belly button.

“So… What do you like?” Ryujin asked once more. You felt yourself clam up, but you managed a reply.

“H-Her face… I-I guess…”

Ryujin chuckled.

“All that ogling and you said ‘her face’...” She said, “Very well then…”

She let her arm slide off you, turning her attention to Jimin.

“On your knees.”

Jimin dropped instantly, her knees hitting the floor with a thud. You winced a little, feeling the second-hand pain from the impact.

“Mouth open.”

Karina’s jaw dropped, revealing that perfect set of pearly white teeth and pink tongue. Ryujin reached down to the buckle of your belt.

“Come on Squeaker… Get your cock out,” She smiled, undoing the clasp of your belt.

“W-Wait… W-What?” You stammered, grabbing a hold of her wrist. Ryujin cocked her head and stared.

“What? Afraid to get your dick sucked by this pretty slut?” Ryujin grilled.

“I-I… This… This isn’t right…” You reasoned. Ryujin giggled.

She leaned in towards you, face millimetres away from yours.

“Let me tell you something Squeaker… When it comes to using Karina… There is no right and wrong.”

Her lips crashed against yours, capturing you and a soft kiss. Her body felt oddly familiar against yours. She dug her tongue into your mouth, licking and rodding around as she rubbed your cock through your jeans.

“So… What do you say Squeaky?” Ryujin asked, lips parting from yours. “You have a good girl on her knees. It’s not right to keep her waiting…”

She locked eyes with you. All sense of morality seemed to leave you as you gave Ryujin a nod.

She assisted you in sliding out of your jeans and boxers, your already hardened cock springing out. Ryujin tossed your pants and undergarments aside.

“Go on… Fuck that pretty face…” Ryujin urged, gently pushing you forward. “Make sure you leave her in a mess…”

You stepped towards Karina, cock twitching wildly. Karina stared into your eyes, holding your gaze lustfully. Ryujin gently gripped the base of your cock, giving you an experimental pump before she placed your head on the tip of Jimin’s tongue. The warm sensation sent a jolt up your body, making you grunt. Ryujin wiggled your dick back and forth on Karina’s tongue, lubing up the underside of your head.

“Whenever you’re ready…” She reminded you.

You didn’t need to be told twice. You cupped the sides of Karina’s face, hips moving forward slowly. Jimin’s lips wrapped around your length, holding your member in place as you steadily hilted herself into her warm, wet mouth. You stopped when the tip of your cock hit the back of your throat, sighing as Karina began applying gentle suction around your hard length. Her cheeks hollowed, innocent eyes staring back at you as you began thrusting into her mouth. You slowly let your shaft slide smoothly between her plump lips, Karina staying perfectly still for you. A groan left your throat, your fingers gripping her face a little tighter.

“Hey, hey… What are you doing, Squeaky?” Ryujin asked. “Didn’t you hear me? Fuck her face.”

You stared at the girl on her knees before you. Her demure gaze faltered for a moment, revealing the hunger and lust behind her eyes.

Something snapped within you. You gripped Jimin’s face tightly.

Popping your hips back, Karina gags when you slam yourself back in, spit flying out the corners of her mouth as you wildly piston yourself in and out of those pink lips. Drool leaks out of the small openings of her lips, flowing down from either side of your cock. The slimy fluid splattered onto her cute face, each harsh thrust you delivered into her mouth sending your cock deep into her mouth. The surface of her tongue cushioned your shaft, guiding you into her mouth perfectly with each entrance while the gentle suction tried to pull you back with each exit.

“Not quite my tempo Squeaker…” Ryujin muttered in disappointment. You felt her hands on your butt, pushing you deeper into Karina’s mouth.

“Faster…” Ryujin demanded.

You complied eagerly, feeling your hips begin to move at a frantic pace. Karina’s large breasts swayed, her spit dripping onto the floor and onto her tits as you took the young girl’s mouth. She had gotten used to your pace, bobbing her head forward each time you thrusted back in to her warm entrance.

Tears gathered at the corner of Karina’s eyes. Her hands gripped your thighs like vices as she maintained eye contact with you. Her eyes told you everything you needed to know. She wanted it faster, harder, deeper.

You were practically shoving your cock down her throat. Your eyes left Jimin’s, finding the ceiling to stare at while you pleasured yourself with Karina. The gurgling from her throat sent vibrations up your throbbing cock, shocking you with volts of pleasure. Nothing had ever felt this good.

Ryujin appeared behind her friend on her knees. You noted that she had already shed her clothes, buck naked as she knelt behind Karina. She pushed Jimin’s perfectly rounded breasts together, allowing you to stare down the ample cleavage. Bits of drool and precum slid down her breasts. Ryujin made it a point to rub the mix of fluids into Karina’s skin. She played with the busty girl’s chest contently.

You couldn’t last any longer in this bliss. With great effort, you looked towards Ryujin

“Down her throat,” Ryujin instructed, reading your mind. “Give that slutty little girl a nice big load down her throat Squeaker…”

With a few more deep thrusts into Jimin’s mouth, you finally reach your limit. Shoving your cock all the way down your throat, you grunt before throbbing inside the tightness of her contracting opening. Ryujin held Jimin’s head in place, holding her steady while you shot your seed down the girl’s throat. She gagged, eyes bulging slightly, but she took it well. You felt every rope that surged up and out of your cock, enjoying the feeling of your hot cum exploding into that tight little mouth.

You recovered. Stumbling back, your cock slipped out of Jimin’s mouth. The girl gasped for air. Her face was in a sloppy mess, small trails of white fluid leaking out the sides of her mouth. Your head hit the floor, chest heaving as you watched Karina gulp down your load.

You felt a set of hands on your chest, followed by a set of lips on yours. Ryujin kissed her way down, taking her time as she kissed a path down from your lips to your torso. From your torso, she made her way down to your cock. Her tongue darted out, licking up the cum that was left on your dick. She thoroughly cleaned you off with her mouth afterwards, slurping on your length hungrily. She teased you a little more before deciding she had enough.

Your member popped out of her mouth after some time. She grinned, slapping your glistening dick against her cheek and delivering a few slow strokes.

“Rest up Squeaky… It’s my turn with Jimin now…”

She rose from the floor, leaving your cock unattended—much to your disappointment. Ryujin sauntered over to Karina, who had just finished recovering from her face-fuck. The bassist knelt down, capturing the other woman in a kiss. Ryujin’s hands snaked behind Jimin’s back, unhooking the clasps of her bra and pulling the undergarment off Jimin’s person.

Their tongues duelled, a lewd sight unveiling before you. Soft sighs came from each of the girls, floating gently into your ears.

When they parted, a single string of saliva kept them connected. Ryujin giggled, placing her hands on Karina’s shoulders.

“Lay down for me Karina…” Ryujin demanded. Jimin nodded, obediently sinking down onto her back. Once Karina was flat out on the floor, Ryujin captured one of Karina’s taught nipples in her mouth. Her hands roaming all over the pianist’s body, Karina sighing airily. Her legs quivered, eyes closed in pleasure as Ryujin slipped a hand under her panties.

“Oh… Oh shit…” Karina murmured, a hand gently resting on Ryujin’s head.

“You’re soaking wet darling…” Ryujin chuckled, fingers busying themselves with Karina’s folds. Jimin gasped, eyes going wide. Ryujin smiled devilishly, fingers rubbing a circle beneath Karina’s panties.

“You must be so turned on right now…” Ryujin continued to taunt. “A horny… little… slut…”

She swished her tongue across the girl’s left nipple, eliciting a strained cry out Jimin.

“Fuck! O-Oh my god… I’m… I’m a horny slut…” Karina admitted shamelessly. Ryujin smirked.

“Good girl Jimin… I like your honesty,” She nodded. “Let’s see how much you like this...”

Ryujin pulled Karina’s panties down, exposing her glistening pussy. The short-haired girl slipped her digits into Jimin’s folds, pumping themselves in and out. Karina let a long, drawn-out moan escape past her parted lips, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

Ryujin licked her lips, watching with contained glee as Karina’s back arched deliciously, thighs quivering violently. The squelching of Jimin’s wet cunt was nothing far from a turn on, her high-pitched moans and sharp gasps mixing excellently with the profanities that tumbled out from her mouth. Ryujin continued to gently work between Karina’s flushed thighs, her hands staying steady, her pace even steadier. She teased the other girl relentlessly, whispering filthy sentences, nibbling on Jimiin’s ear, kneading those full tits… The sight was erotic to say the least.

“God damn… You’re so fucking hot when you're a mess…” Ryujin mused, twisting Karina’s nipple. Jimin cried out in pleasure, a cute whine cutting through her moans.

You found your hand on your re-erected cock. Stroking lazily, you watched Ryujin make Karina bend to her will, both figuratively and literally. Before you knew it, Karina’s moans and exclamations began increasing in volume. Her hips began to move, forcing Ryujin’s fingers deeper into her slick cunt. Jimin’s hands flew up to her breasts, squeezing them violently.

“O-Oh fuck… R-Ryujin… D-Don’t stop…” Karina mewled. Ryujin cocked her head.

“Why? Are you close baby girl?” Ryujin questioned. Karina could only manage a nod, biting hard on her bottom lip while she thrashed against Ryujin’s hand. The bassist didn’t seem to be too amused.

Ryujin’s free hand shot down to Karina’s crotch, holding the other girl down firmly while she extracted her fingers from the wet folds of Jimin’s pussy. Jimin whined in protest.

“Shhhh… Whining won’t help you baby…” Ryujin calmed her, examining her glistening fingers under the light. She brought her fingers to her mouth, sucking them clean of Karina’s fluids.

“Wow… You taste amazing Jimin…” Ryujin mused. She slapped Jimin’s tits, making them sway and redden as she got up on her knees.

“I got a taste of you… Now you taste me…”

Ryujin straddled Karina’s face in a flash. Facing you, she sank her crotch down onto the other girl’s face, hands pinning Karina’s wrists to the floor. Jimin seemed to know just what to do.

You watched, absolutely entranced as Karina’s jaw opened. You saw the flash of her pink tongue, followed by a moan from the girl atop of her a split second later.

“Oh fuck… You always eat me so well Jimin…” Ryujin sighed, closing her eyes as she let the pleasure wash over her. Her words seemed to have encouraged her friend, and Jimin doubled her efforts. Karina’s chin moved deftly, jaw opening and closing in well timed intervals. Ryujin’s breath seemed to hitch in her throat, head whipping back.

“T-That’s it… Eat me out Karina… Eat me out with that slutty tongue,” Ryujin hissed.

Watching became too much for you… You wanted in.

You crawled over to the two girls. Ryujin opened her eyes just in time to see you on your knees, pumping your shaft mere inches away from Karina’s glistening pussy lips. She bit her lower lip, fighting back a moan before she gave you a nod.

Your hands shot out, grasping Karina’s panties and pulling them all the way down. You heard a muffled noise come from Karina. Ryujin cried out in pleasure, feeling the reverberation from Jimin’s voice in her pussy.

“O-Oh fuck… J-Jesus… Keep making her moan like that…” She whispered to you. Luckily for her, you knew how to fulfil her request.

Your palms pushed open Karina’s legs. Her slick lips were ready for the taking, and you weren’t going to wait anymore. You gripped your throbbing length, slapping your cock against Karina’s flushed pussy lips a few times before you thrusted yourself into Jimin.

Her mouth felt great, but her pussy felt even better. Her tight walls gripped you from the get-go, a hoarse curse flying out of your mouth as you savoured the feel of her walls twitching around you. You didn’t even bother trying to build up on your pace with Karina, jackhammering yourself in and out from her hot slick from the moment you started fucking her. Her pussy made your vision go fuzzy, the sheer tightness of her womanhood sending you into a feral state. You pounded away, slamming yourself into the young girl roughly and relentlessly. You nailed her, speared her, fucked her into a muffled, mewling mess between you and Ryujin.

Her dampened screams sounded amazing, and Ryujin’s cries melded together with them to form an ear-tingling symphony of pleasure. It was lewd, oh so lewd as you took in the sight of two girls moaning and quivering before you, the squelching, slapping and exclamations of pleasure bouncing off the walls of Jimin’s apartment. Jimin tightened even more around your cock, Ryujin capturing you in a passionate kiss.

Under the given circumstances, you didn’t expect any of you to last much longer. Ryujin was the first to succumb to her pleasure, a loud scream heralding the arrival of her orgasm. Her tight body trembled atop Jimin, thighs clamping shut around either side of the pianist’s head, forcing Jimin’s tongue as deep as it could go. Her hands left Jimin's wrists, squeezing the mound of juicy flesh on Karina’s chest for dear life as she came.

She collapsed a few moments later, falling to the floor with a thud. She heaved on the floor, sweat-matted hair sticking to her face.

Karina’s hands were free now, and she used her new range of movement to grab your shoulders and pull you towards her. Her breasts shook violently, bouncing and jiggling hypnotically as you continued your frantic motions.

“I’m gonna fucking cum…” She spat.

Four words, one shared sentiment.

Her fingers dug into your shoulder blades. Your pace increased, and so did the intensity of her moans. You could feel the dull throb of your second orgasm slowly approaching, a familiar prickle in your cock.

Karina, unlike Ryujin, didn’t let out a single sound when she came. You only knew she had climaxed when her body stiffened beneath you, mouth gaped open in a silent scream of pleasure. Her already tight walls squeezed the life out of you, gripping your cock firmly while you fucked her through her orgasm. She went limp, her sighs and sharp intakes of breath filtering in through your ear.

“Cum… Cum in me…” Karina whispered, wrapping her hands lightly behind your neck. “Fill my little pussy up… I want to feel it leaking out of me.”

Her words drove you over the edge. You let out a guttural groan, burying yourself balls-deep in Karina’s well-fucked pussy. You throbbed inside of her, your seed oozing out of you and spilling into her. The twitching walls of her cunt milking you tenderly, your eyes closing in bliss. You savoured the sensation of Karina’s body flushed against yours, soft gasps from Karina wafting into your ears with each hot rope that entered her . She finds your lips, bringing you into a soft kiss as the last of your seed gets delivered into her awaiting pussy.

You slip out of her, shaft sore and flaccid as you roll over and collapse next to Karina’s spent body. As requested, cum leaked out from Karina’s slackened pussy lips, oozing onto the floor. Ryujin finds the strength to crawl over next to you, crashing down on your left and sandwiching you between two equally beautiful and spent girls.

No words were exchanged as Ryujin rested her head on your chest, her hand lazily pumping your shaft. She let out a sigh of satisfaction, your eyes closing as you enjoyed the tingle of her breath on your sweaty skin. Off on your left, you felt Karina lace her hand with yours.

You let yourself drift off on Jimin’s hard floor, knowing full well you’d have to address this with the two girls the next morning.

~~~~~~

You found yourself back behind the drumkit the next afternoon, a glove–provided by Ryujin herself after you insisted on playing—adorning your injured hand as you tune your snare to perfection. The threesome with Karina and Ryujin had been agreed to be swept under the rug over coffee that morning, followed by another intensive round with the two girls in Jimin’s shower that made you late for lectures that morning.

The three of you attended classes like nothing ever happened, though when you happened to be in the same lecture as Ryujin, she made it a point to sit next to you and tease you relentlessly. You managed to get her to stop before things got out of hand, but she did force you into a bathroom on your way to the studio, milking your sore cock with her mouth and taking a load up her ass.

You were exhausted by the time you were back in the studio, but you hid it well under the five cups of coffee you had with Ryujin in the canteen after she was finished with you.

The door to the recording studio burst open, and a thrilled Kwon Eunbi stood at the opening.

“You guys! I found us a trumpeter!” She squealed. Your interest was piqued, and so was everyone else’s, as all stopped what they were doing. Eunbi quickly stepped into the room, gesturing for someone outside to come in.

“Come in!” She encouraged the mysterious person. You silently prayed that she had found another guy to accompany you in the band.

A single Nike air-force one planted itself on the carpeted floor of the recording studio, the leg of its wearer emerging past the door as they stepped in…

A girl with a bob-cut similar to Ryujin’s entered the room. Your heart dropped as you recognised her side profile, eyes widening as you locked eyes with your ex-girlfriend.

She stood there, staring back at you with that pink trumpet case in hand. You couldn’t read her expression but you definitely spotted that familiar flash of annoyance in those fiesty eyes before she turned to Eunbi.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Kim Chaewon asked vexatiously, jabbing a finger towards you.

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

Ngl this was an absolute mess to write. I had to re-write this entire damn thing like 5 times.

Anyway, thank you for reading :)). I'm open to suggestions on who you guys want as a Saxophonist, so leave a comment or an ask if you have someone in mind.

Stay safe, stay swaggy and I'll see ya'll...

#kpop #itzy #fanfic #shin ryujin #karina #yoo jimin #smut

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enhafilthandfiction · 2 years

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Kpopfilthandfiction's Masterlist

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You boyfriend can't help but get angry when you keep teasing him non stop throughout the whole night. What happens when you arrive home? He takes out his anger on you by fucking you senseless (angry sex)

╰┈➤ I'm not a Perv, just crushing on you - BroBff!Jungwon - Smut

Your brother's best friend might seem like a pervert, but he's not. He just likes you a little too much not to look down your shirt. What happens when he gets jealous of a guy you flirted with at your family's get together party?

☣ Nishimura Riki ☣

╰┈➤ Wing-Bestie - Bff!Niki X Bff!Reader - Cheesy fluff and angst

Niki has a crush on your sister and you, his best friend, are willing to help him win her heart.

╰┈➤ My Cute, Baby Giraffe - Bf!Niki x Fem!Reader - Fluff

Riki is very tired after a dance practise and all he needs are your cuddles and kisses.

☣ Multiple Members ☣

╰┈➤ Trying consented Somnophilia - Hyung Line - Smut

╰┈➤ Enhypen when you're on your period - 0t7Bf!Enha - Fluff

╰┈➤ Mtl to tease you in bed - Legal Line - Smut

╰┈➤ When you cockblock them - HyungLine - Suggestive

╰┈➤ How they tell u they're in the mood - HyungLine - Suggestive

╰┈➤ Secret naughty things between you - Hyungline - suggestive

╰┈➤ When you get needy when they're gaming - Hyungline - smut

╰┈➤ Your pet interrupting your sexy time - Hyungline - suggestive

╰┈➤ Walking around naked when they're mad - Hyungline - smut

╰┈➤ Nsfw Links - Legal Line (contains jw and sunoo) - Smut !!!

╰┈➤ Enhypen Last Friday night - 0t7!Enha - Suggestive

╰┈➤ Enhypen when your hymen tears - Legal Line - suggestive

╰┈➤ Enhypen Kissing you during an argument - Fluff, Crack

Please, do not copy, translate or plagiarise any of my works without permission.

However, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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goldielia · 6 months

Text

girlfriend?

a part of: call it what you want au

everyone’s kind of distracted today. it’s the day of the hockey east championship game and the locker room is eerily quiet and simultaneously buzzing with energy.

it’s pretty frustrating from allys point of view, nobody answers unless she repeats herself at least once, the boys all seemingly already on the ice with at least half their brain capacity. she doesn’t blame them, it’s an important game after all, but it’s also not exactly easy for her.

when she’s offered every player new equipment at least once, she retreats back into the comfort of her equipment room, busying herself with preparing the blades and sticks she’ll take out to the bench with her.

after she’s hauled everything out rinkside and sorted it the way she likes, ally finds the locker room to be in a much better mood. their usual hype playlist blasts through speakers and slowly but surely the boys look like their usual confident selves again.

“gimme a sec, you can wait for me at the station”, she says to will when she passes by him to her locker and he’s already holding his tape out to her. she doesn’t have a stall but for christmas the boys got her her own little locker and a jersey because they pretty much viewed her as part of the team anyway.

she was at every skate, practice and game, spent her spare time in their little hangout area and went through loss and win with them so a jersey with her lucky number 7 and her last name was the best gift they could give her.

it had become a habit for her to tape will’s stick for games so as soon as she’s unzipped her sweater jacket and thrown it into her locker, leaving her in her wine red v-neck and black suit pants, and thrown her hair up into a messy bun she makes her way to the equipment room, not knowing she leaves behind a confused bunch of hockey players.

“was she wearing a 2 on her necklace?” “i thought i imagined that” “why’s she wearing a 2? eamon, you got somethin’ to say?”

their captan only shakes his head, knowing ally definitely would not wear his number. “it’s not because of me, but i don’t know what else it would be.” nobody notices gabe and ryan exchange an amused look.

the team go back to getting ready for the game quickly, everything too important for gossip right now. when eamon gets up to get himself a gatorade out of the fridge he’s disappointed to see his favourite flavour’s out.

knowing ally keeps spares of most flavours in a mini fridge in the equipment room, being the saint that she is, he stops in the doorframe to call out for her and can hold himself back just in time.

at the station he sees ally sat on the workspace, will leaning his hip on it next to her, head on her shoulder and hand around her waist as she tapes his stick. eamon’s surprised to see will’s eyes closed - he’s usually very particular about his tape job.

then it hits him though, he hasn’t seen will tape his stick himself in weeks, maybe months, and ally looks confident and practised, nails painting blue stripes in his vision with how fast she’s taping, seemingly knowing just how to move without disturbing will on her shoulder.

they’re whispering quietly to each other, his hand resting on the sliver of skin between her pants and shirt. it looks intimate in an almost casual way, and eamon can’t quite bring himself to interrupt or look away, even though he should.

ally finishes up the tape job by writing something on the tape quickly and he watches will open his eyes and stand between her legs, discarding the stick to the side.

it all dawns on him when will softly taps the dainty 2-necklace resting on her neckline, that will wears number 2 originally. and then he remembers that will, gabe and ryan were driven to the rink by ally before the game today. and that he thinks he saw ally and will cuddling on the bus after a loss a few months ago.

and that’s when his self control runs out and he clears his throat, lifting one eyebrow when they both jump like they’ve been caught doing something forbidden.

“jesus, it’s just you” ally breathes, hopping off the workspace and putting the tape away, all back to business withing seconds. “what can i do for you?” she asks eamon. “first of all, why’re you wearing that necklace? boys think ‘s ‘cause of me” he gestures at her necklace.

“’cause she’s my girlfriend” will answers confidently and eamon’s surprised to see ally blush, he’s not used to seeing the usually so nonchalant brunette show much emotion on her face.

“so, who knows about this” he points back and forth between her and the blond boy vaguely, his eyebrow rising even higher when will answers. “gabe, leno and olivia. and you, apparently”.

“not for long, boys saw your necklace” he warns ally. “that’s okay” she smiles, and eamons knees almost weaken with the intensity in her eyes when she looks back at will.

“i was actually looking for some blue gatorade, you got some back here? big fridge is all out” he states his original request. “oh yeah, for sure. one sec” she answers before she squeezes past an unmoving will with her hand on his bicep, handing eamon his bottle moments later. he decides to get back to his game day routine, but he has to chirp at them just once before he leaves: “no funny business in the facility though. i mean it.”

just before he’s out of the room he catches one last glimpse of wills stick, sees the small heart drawn on the bottom stripe of tape there with the tiny A next to it.

he’s barely out the door when ally turns to will. “girlfriend?” she asks shyly. will smiles, not used to seeing her without her confidence, pulls her into his arms. his smile widens when she rests her chin on his sternum so she can look up at him. “well yeah, you’ve been around for some time now and you know me really well, if you wanted to leave you already would’ve so i’m awarding you that title as of today” she grins up at him, presses one last peck to his lips for good luck before she pushes him back out into the locker room.

now that he knows about ally and will, eamon really doesn’t get how he could’ve not known. gabe and ryan are pretty obvious, whispering about them and exchanging glances everytime someone mentions a girlfriend or love or will. olivia’s kinda obvious, too. the social media girl always waiting until ally’s out of shot to take the picture, probably having been told to not show them together on the hockey team’s socials.

the most obvious though are the couple themselves. if any of the boys openend their eyes they’d definitely notice the love there as well. eamon can’t unsee it now.

it’s in the way allys eyes sparkle when will does well on the ice, in the way will sends her a tiny wink at the end of the high five line every time he scores.

it’s in the way he hugs her for a little too long when it’s game and he got his first hatty and they’re hockey east champions. in the way he has olivia take pictures of the two of them with his mvp trophy, in the way he smiles at her in some of them because she looks angelic under the lights, her eyes bright with pride.

it’s in the way they disappear for a little bit during the celebrations, eamon’s not sure if he wants to know where to or what they’re doing.

it’s in the way will convinces ally to come with to some party the upperclassmen are throwing, her having to leave her car at the rink and going to pick it up tomorrow. it’s in the way she can’t help but agree immediately when he flashes his puppy eyes at her.

it’s in the lighthearted competition of who gets more cups during the beer pong game at said party, in the joint cheer when they win and in the way will pulls ally onto the porch to kiss her privately but not secretly anymore.

and it’s in the way will grimaces but takes it when the boys pat (read: hit) him all over his back and shoulders, in the way he pulls ally right back in front of him when they’ve let up, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder.

it’s even in the way will scrunches his nose up in half-fake-disgust while ally giggles uncontrollably, head thrown back onto his shoulder, when cutter jokes “smitty, no wonder you’ve been playing so well, gettin’ your stick taped by a pretty girl before every game”.

#alaska argent #goldie's call it what you want au #will smith hockey #will smith hockey imagine #will smith hockey x oc #will smith hockey x reader

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