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y-rhywbeth2 · 5 months

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Gods and Clergy: Bhaal

Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]

I'm in a Durge and Orin mood, so we're getting the full details on Bhaal and his priesthood now. Fun fact, did you know the Dark Urge couldn't even die without Daddy's permission?

Featuring:

Intro: Do you realise this cult is basically a crime syndicate supported by the rich and powerful?

Priests: Hierarchy. Responsibilities. Murder. I rather like the ceremonial regalia, personally.

Deathstalkers: Teleporting! Killing people with your mind! Unlimited ressurections courtesy of Bhaal!! And yet more crazy shit!

Bhaal: Kitten thinks of nothing but murder all day. Also mortal backstory and the Slayer is absolutely nothing like the games depict it

Right then, "Bhaal awaits thee," and blah.

"Make all folk fear Bhaal. Let your killings be especially elegant, or grisly, or seem easy so that those observing them are awed or terrified. Tell folk that gold proffered to the church can make the Lord of Murder overlook them for today." - Bhaal's Dogma

Unsurprisingly for an ex-assassin, Bhaal is the patron god of assassins. Assassins, mercenaries, bounty hunters who aren't bringing their quarry in alive and, presumably, executioners all tend to send a prayer to Bhaal for success. Faithful were called Bhaalyn in the East and Bhaalists in the West. As BG3 takes place in Western Faerûn we'll use the latter.

Amongst these assassin worshippers we find the oh-so healthy individuals for whom killing is more than a job. These killers who regard their murders as a "pastime and a duty" join the clergy.

That said, Bhaalists do not murder indiscriminately. The taking of another life is a holy act, a lot of thought and planning goes into both the kill itself as well as what impact the death may have upon the world. Once the target is slain, they are to smear the victim's blood over their hands and draw Bhaal's symbol by the body with it. If Bhaal is pleased then the blood will vanish.

Bhaal supports and encourages his followers attaining wealth and comfort (it's a good hook to draw them in, and it makes him look good if his followers are successful), and in exchange for their worship his priest-assassins receive the priest spells and administer to the lay worshippers, who benefit second-hand. The assassins have an easier time killing people and getting rich and Bhaal profits from more prayer and death. A win for everyone (who didn't die in the process).

Bhaalist temples historically have spent their time founding and sponsoring guilds of assassins and thieves, including infamous organisations such as the Shadow Thieves of Amn. These guilds survived their patron's death, and while they were mostly businesses throughout the years of Bhaal's death many still paid homage (although there was some confusion involving his replacement, Cyric) and have presumably resumed worship. There's a massive old temple still functioning over in Thay; the Tower of Swift Death, and the assassins work closely with the Red Wizards who rule the country.

Bhaalists have no tolerance for rival guilds and organisations not following Bhaal (which would make them independent of their control) and will eliminate them. They will also root out anybody in the area that will attempt to oppose or otherwise interfere in their business and ensure they have freedom to go about their jobs/worship.

Their other job is to ensure the church has a steady income. They terrorise the commoners into paying tithes in exchange for safety from being sacrificed this tenday (a protection racket, basically) while leaving "economically and socially important individuals live unharmed." I mean, the peasantry have far less enemies to assassinate and gold to spend, so. Plus the rich and powerful are brilliant at turning a blind eye to crime when it benefits them, as well as making sure the evidence never sees the light of day - know which side your bread is buttered on, and all. Baldur's Gate has no law against the worship of Bhaal. Why do you think the original temple exists, after all? Bhaalists actively seek out and sway such potential patrons who would be... amenable to sponsoring and protecting their technically-legal church and its not so-legal activities in exchange for their services.

Urban temples of Bhaal are usually dark, subterranean affairs built under the city streets, containing countless branching tombs that are home to the bodies of the clergy's victims - said victims are usually wandering around down there as restless undead.

Bhaal's clergy can be recognised as Bhaalists by their ceremonial robes - full body robes of black or deep purple with a deep cowl. The robes will be randomly and violently streaked with flashes of violet. Their entire face is fully obscured by a black veil, to both hide their identity and make it appear as though the hood is empty for the intimidation factor.

The leader of the church in an area is the High Primate/Primistress, who can be identified by a red belt/sash they wear over their robes and the fancy curved ceremonial dagger that marks them as a high ranking priest and a specialty priest known as a Deathstalker - more about them in a moment.

High Primates spent much of their time planning the proper strategies of manipulating nearby rulers, inhabitants, and organizations into the deeds and behaviour that the Bhaalyn desired.

The High Primate is directly served by the First Deaths, who in turn can call upon a council of the nine most senior clergy; the Cowled Deaths. Below them were the regular priests, who were known collectively as the Deathdealers and are referred to by the title Slaying Hand. A Bhaalist rises in the ranks by hunting and ritually killing a target with nothing but their bare hands, which they will then report to a higher ranking priest who will confirm that they are being truthful. If they are then there's a party, and a ritual sacrifice is held to celebrate.

When on a job they dress in black - in the form that suits whatever their preferred method of killing in. Leather armour, mage robes, whatever.

Bhaalists pray to their god before sleep. In the temple the entire congregation comes together to pray in a formal ceremony called "Day's Farewell"). Bhaalists are also to pray before setting out on a murder.

Bhaalists only observe one holy day. It's the Feast of the Moon, a continent-wide holiday for honouring the dead and honouring one's ancestors. Bhaalists have their own spin on it where they remember dead Bhaalists and celebrate with stories of murder to honour them.

All Bhaalists are to commit a murder every tenday at midnight, should they be unable to fulfil this duty then they are to kill two people in place of the one who should've died that day. Before the victim dies, the murderer is to ensure that they know their killer and that they died as a sacrifice to the God of Death; "Bhaal awaits thee, Bhaal embraces thee, none escape Bhaal."

The specialty priests of Bhaal, those who dedicate their devotion and worship no god other than him, are the Deathstalkers.

One does not have to be a cleric to join the ranks, though the majority are. Rogues, rangers, barbarians and fighters are the most common, but all classes make an appearance (and most are multiclassed clerics)

To become a Deathstalker one must have murdered sixteen sapient creatures in sixteen different methods with sixteen different weapons. This presumably is also the rite of passage to becoming a member of the Brethren of the Keen Strike - an order of Bhaalist assassins to which all Deathstalkers belong.

Distressingly for people who aren't Bhaalist, Bhaal's Deathstalkers regained their Bhaalist abilities around 1372 DR, following the end of the Bhaalspawn Crisis, and resumed their duties, spreading death and terror in his name as they worked to bring him back to full power. The most popular argument for how the priests of a dead deity were getting their spells is that another god - likely Cyric, was granting them spells disguised as Bhaal. However, in the wake of the Bhaalspawn Crisis and the wave of fear felt towards Bhaal that resulted (which counts as prayer), the rumour mill became very fond of the idea that, despite how the crisis ended, Bhaal had still managed to resurrect at least some scrap of himself through that fear and the God of Murder was haunting the Realms once more.

The various abilities Bhaal gifts to his Deathstalkers include the following:

[From 3.5e] The ability to identify key weaknesses in a target by studying them for only a few moments, killing them in a single strike. They are also supernaturally good at stabbing people with their ceremonial daggers.

[3.5e] The ability to tap into the hatred of a person, stoking it into homicidal rage and direct it at another person who they will kill in a mindless bloody rage (also called the Urge to Slay, an ability Bhaal himself has)

[3.5e] Bhaal's own inability to just fucking stay dead - a Deathstalker Bhaal doesn't want dead will come back to life an hour after it is killed, with a single hit point left. During the time prior to resurrection they are an actual corpse.

[2e] They can point at a person, sending necrotic energy coursing through them and causing them significant damage, agony and possibly death.

[2e] They can inflict severe wounds on a person just by thinking it.

[2e] They can teleport! A Deathstalker can teleport themselves (and other people, if they're powerful enough) to the Throne of Blood and from there they can teleport to anywhere on Toril that isn't protected by warding magic. Bhaal won't do anything to protect Deathstalkers while they're in the Lower Planes - if you're strong enough to get yourself here, you're strong enough to get yourself out.

[2e] They can affect the emotions of those around them, reversing whatever emotions an individual is feeling towards them into its polar opposite.

[2e] They can accelerate the entropic aging process of objects.

Bhaal himself is "violent, cruel and hateful at all times." Being in the presence of the living fills him with an overwhelming urge to kill and destroy. He presents himself as either on the verge of a violent rampage or cold and ruthlessly calculating depending on which suits the occasion best. A Lawful Evil deity, his domain is the Throne of Blood in the first layer of the Lower Plane of Gehenna (Khalas), part of Bane's domain (Banehold). Hilariously, not a single Baldurs Gate game has got this right. BG2:SoA claimed it was the Hells, BG2:ToB changed to the Abyss and, for some reason, BG3 has put it in the Grey Wastes.

Bhaal served Bane, and was in turn served by Loviatar (goddess of pain) and Talona (goddess of disease).

His holy symbol is the Circle of Tears; clue in the name, it's a skull surrounded by teardrops of blood forming a circle.

Bhaal rarely manifested in avatar form. When he did, his main avatar in urban areas was the Slayer, which was not a four armed scaly monster:

"The Slayer look[s] like a corpse with a feral face, [bloodless] skin, and deep lacerations that endlessly [weep] black ichor that vanish[es] before it strikes anything."

It makes no noise at all when it moves. it can talk (its softly spoken and sounds creepy). It can levitate at will and summon floating daggers made of bone, that appeared and disappeared at will. They would cause any living flesh they hit to wither and die. Creatures slain this way would rise again as zombies under its control - or have its skeleton shattered into more bone daggers. Enough of these daggers form an area-of-effect; a wall made of a flurry of sharp shards of bone that would trap the soul of anyone they killed. Oh, yeah, and the Slayer can also inflict the overwhelming urge to murder everyone around you on the people around it.

Bhaal's other avatar was the Ravager, which was mostly an angry 30-foot tall giant with horns.

While in either avatar form, Bhaal also had the ability to create any form of undead loyal to him by touching a corpse (greater undead like vampires would be free once they'd completed whatever task he'd assigned them). He could also immediately destroy any undead, turning them to dust at a touch. Bhaal cannot be harmed by the undead.

Rather than using his avatars, Bhaal usually just manifested as a pair of flying undead hands that can shoot bone daggers at people. Or a laughing human skull trailing teardrops. Both these manifestations are capable of speech, casting darkness and driving everybody into a mindless bloodthirsty rampage - you might have noticed he really loves this trick.

He also invented his own undead monsters, the Harrla of Hate. Harrla are invisible creatures, which if you use magic to see them appear like human shaped wavering impressions. Guess what they do?? If you guessed "fill people with a sense of overpowering hatred and drive people into committing homicide" get yourself a fucking cookie!! (This isn't said anywhere in canon, but Bhaal has less imagination than a chunk of rock, I swear to god...)

According to one version of the story; in life Bhaal was a Netherese mortal wizard named Tharlagaunt Bale. He was one of a few hand picked by Jergal to bear a fragment of the god's divinity and raised from a young age to serve him (a Chosen, basically). Hilariously, one of the others was Karsus. These Chosen were promised godhood for their service as they set about performing a ritual to increase Jergal's waning power and make him one of the most powerful deities. Karsus chose to try and make himself a god instead and blew up the Weave, destroying Netheril and the plan and killing all of his coworkers except Bale.

Bale got a job as an assassin, changed the spelling to Bhaal and dropped his first name, teamed up with a bitter ex-slave with no name except the title "Bane of the Ancients" and a necromancer prince called Myrkul Bey al-Kursi.

His other backstory features him as Arabhal; the spymaster and chief assassin of the Netherese City of Rdiuz, and an ally of Bane. The two became unwitting paws of Jergal, who directed them through nightmares to do his bidding and slay various primordial divinities who threatened his plans.

Regardless of backstory, they all grabbed more divinity by killing an ancient god (also Bane's ex-master) and then he went knocking on his old boss' door for that godhood he was promised (Jergal at this point had embraced depression and just went "yeah, whatever, have it. Idgaf, I'm retiring." Or was manipulating them into becoming his divine pawns. There's more than one take on this story.) and Bhaal walked off the god of murder.

He learned of a prophecy predicting he would die when his stupid ex-travelling companions would decide to piss of Ao who would then kick all the gods out and make them mortal, and Bhaal then decided to sleep with what seems to be at least 25% of Faerûn to produce kids who would hold fragments of himself so that they could all fight to the death and he could resurrect himself afterwards. He was killed by the soon-to-be-god Cyric not far from Baldur's Gate during the Time of Troubles. Cyric proceeded to take his job, and there was a huge fight between Bhaalists who converted and those who didn't and the converts killed all the holdouts.

The rest of the backstory is basically just the original Baldur's Gate games.

#Durge is basically a crime boss #Also; Bhaal please have more than one fucking idea for once in your fucking miserable life I AM BEGGING YOU #dark urge #orin the red #long post #bg3 #durge #the dark urge #baldurs gate 3

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angelbarelywrites · 16 days

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♡ slashers scenarios | you’re almost a victim… (part 2)

♡ fandoms; House of Wax, Scream (kinda), Hannibal/Silence of the Lambs, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Bo Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Hannibal Lecter

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; mentions of violence and cannibalism, kidnapping, stalking, suggestive content

♡ notes; I’m kinda surprised this prompt won out for a part 2 but very happy lol, I had some fun ideas.

the whole gang is not here, just some kinda kinky guys again- I feel like this doesn’t work super well for every single slasher? only some of them are psychopaths AND perverts

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Bo Sinclair

> bo was having a rough day

> your friends had been putting up one hell of a fight, killing the first four was a huge pain in ass

> so by the time there’s only two of you left, he hasn’t even gotten a proper look at you

> it’s not until you come back to the gas station, wide eyed and begging for help that he finally notices you

> god you’re cute- you can be last

> he drops the nice guy act and gets you to the chair- rough as always and threatening you the whole way

> but then he notices it’s all a lot easier than usual today

> he glances up and can’t help but grin

> your cheeks are bright red and your chest heaving- you like being restrained

> “i’ll be good- promise—“ you mumble before he can be a smart ass

> he gags you anyways, but he praises you as you open your mouth for him to stuff the rag it in

> he can hear you whimper as he does and he’s just itching to leave so he can come back

> he leans over, one hand planted between your legs to steady himself

> he can hear your breathing catch as he simply kisses your forehead, snickering as he leaves

> you were really something

> a pretty, obedient little something that would last way longer than a day if you kept it up

Danny Johnson

> he’s worried you saw the flash of his camera through your window that morning

> he’s normally so careful, he can’t believe he slipped up like that- honestly he’s surprised you didn’t call the cops

> you must have been too groggy, or maybe it wasn’t as dark as he thought it was at the time. maybe you noticed but didn’t put two and two together

> he needs to kill you soon anyways. he’s been watching for a while, and he’s wasting time

> he settles back into his usual spot where he can see perfectly into your bedroom

> he sees you frown just a tad as you pick up the phone call from an “unknown number” - but you still pick up

> “Hi there, doll .”

> he’s called you more than once, this “ghost voice” that’s been terrorizing you- and god is it a nice voice

> a nice voice that says vile things. some of them just violent, some…well some things you like too much

> you can see you make an expression he doesn’t expect. you bite your lip, cheeks pink

> he’s seen that look before…not for Ghostface, of course, but for Danny

> you were easy enough to befriend, and it just gave him more opportunities to keep tabs on you

> like most people he charms, you clearly have a crush on him, and that little lip bite is about the same face you make when he flirts

> maybe he’s just seeing things

> you couldn’t be that perfect.if you were he would have to keep you around

> he continues on and on, observing you carefully

> and you just keep getting more and more flustered, even when he’s threatening to choke you stupid

> “you know you’re so cute when you blush like that,”

> what you say next comes just about as close to scaring him as you can get

> “Thank you, Danny.”

Hannibal Lecter

> you weren’t quite as close to victimhood as one might assume

> but he was a fast killer once he had a mark set- you had to impress him more than a bit to be considered and then ruled out

> you start as his patient

> you’re a meek thing, easy to read and fragile

> you’re practically asking to become an entree

> if you taste as good as you look, you’d be his best dish yet

> it’s not hard to get you alone outside of an appointment

> you’re delighted when he invites you to a dinner party- you’ve heard great things about his little get togethers

> and he even lets you help him get ready, setting the tables

> the conversation become macabre as you discuss some recent murders that police suspected were committed by a cannibal

> that he committed for the sake of the dinner party, naturally

> he corners you before you can realize it - he likes playing cat and mouse

> you giggle nervously and look up at him

> he’s got a hand on the wall above you, and he notices your eyes linger on his toned forearms

> many patients and victims have crushes on him, it’s not surprising or a deterrent

> though it surprised him the gristly conversation wasn’t bothering you

> “yknow, it must be nice to know you’re safe from that serial killer in the neighborhood. If he is a cannibal, he’s most likely to chose someone more sedentary.”

> you leave him there, as if you hadn’t said something so delightfully offputting to find a vase for the table

> maybe he could do some further studying….

#slashers #slashers x reader #slashers x you #house of wax #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #dead by daylight #dbd #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #hannibal x reader #hannibal tv show #cw suggestive #cw kidnapping #cw stalking

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juyeonszn · 10 months

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SACRIFICE (EAT ME UP)

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 9.17k

GENRES horror ﹒ smut ﹒ angst ﹒ fluff ig?

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, mentions of murder, descriptions of crime scenes, mentions of blood, mentions of knifes, graphic description of stab wounds, mentions of potential mental illness, THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THAT CONSTITUTE WARNINGS BUT ?!1?1 I DONT WANT TO SPOIL !1!2!2, Lots of Kissing, mutual masturbation (f! receiving fingering & m! receiving hand job), pillow talk ig, big dick hyunjae 😈, um unprotected sex lol be safe u silly geese, car sex, cowgirl position yeehaw, creampie, this entire fic is just a whole fucking roller coaster i stg it’s gonna haunt me forever

SUMMARY with a serial killer running rampant on campus, everyone around you seems to be dropping like flies. but, hey, at least you have hyunjae to protect you.

MORE omg.. my first written work for tbz 🙀 extra super fun fact; this was originally an idea i had for hyunjin from skz on my other blog that i actually started writing the week before halloween last year (the reason it’s a horror fic), but i never finished and sort of felt like there was no point in continuing it after a while— that is until i stumbled upon the draft a few weeks ago and decided to revamp, edit, and complete it 😋 i kept going back and rereading and then blanking when i wanted to add to it until last night when i said fuck it and drank two cups of coffee to power through the end 🙌 anyways.. here u all go, my baby that i never thought would see the light of day and my first time writing a genuine horror piece <3 also special shoutout to rina my soulmate @tsukidou for beta reading 🫶

PLAYLIST sacrifice (eat me up) — enhypen, awake — the boyz, roar — the boyz, fever — enhypen, fate — enhypen, taste — stray kids, wake up — ateez, white noise — pvris, heaven — pvris

“Alright, that’s all for today’s lecture. If this was your last of the day, make sure to find someone to go home with and remember the curfew rules!” Your English professor says, concluding the class.

The students around you rush to pack up their things and get off of campus as soon as possible. You don’t seem to be in a hurry, though, taking your time to put away your notebook and laptop. Your roommates were still in their music production class, so you didn’t want to go home alone, deciding to wait until they were done.

“Y/N, don’t you wanna get home?” Professor Park asks, her voice echoing in the now empty lecture hall. She throws the strap of her bag over her shoulder and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“I do, but I have to wait for my roommates. They’re in a class right now and I’d rather not go by myself.” You let out an awkward laugh. She nods at your reasoning, giving you a small smile for comfort.

“Okay, you be careful! I’ll see you on Thursday.”

You raise your hand in a silent salutation, watching as she exits the room, leaving you completely alone. Though a public space, in a public building, the fact that there’s no one else nearby leaves you utterly unsettled. Your stomach churns with a twinge of fear and you start to feel a bit claustrophobic despite being in such a spacious area, so you choose this point to hurriedly collect your belongings and get the hell out of there.

The past couple of months have been in this weird state of limbo. You don’t recall exactly when the killings started, but once the police noticed a pattern, everyone knew sooner or later that the presence of a serial murderer would be announced on the local news. Your town enforced a citywide curfew to protect its citizens, but mostly the students at your university.

Every single one of the killer’s victims were university students. You were friends with a bunch of guys and while it was nice having big strong men surrounding you, you knew that could hardly do anything to quell the lingering anxiety you’ve felt ever since the spree began.

The police seemed to be having trouble coming up with any possible suspects, or even gaining any leads, thanks to the killer’s unusual victimology and the cool down time between murders always varying. If the people in charge of protecting you couldn’t do that, how were you supposed to feel safe?

In an attempt to get to the building where Jacob, Kevin, and Eric were as fast as you could, you speed walk out of the lecture hall, accidentally bumping into someone. You bow at a nearly ninety-degree angle and hurl out apology after apology following the collision, not trying to make any enemies in this day and time.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” The stranger spits, waiting for you to glance up at him to give you a nasty glare. He looks like the kind of guy who thought he was all that, despite peaking in high school. You feel your bottom lip quiver and you avoid eye contact.

“I—”

“Woah, dude, chill the fuck out. It was an accident, I’m sure she didn’t— wait, N/N, is that you? Hey it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

There’s a familiar voice in your ears and a hand under your chin, forcing you to stand upright. Whoever you bumped into walks away with a scoff. You meet eyes with Lee Hyunjae, one of your dearest friends. He recognizes that hint of panic in your features and he frowns.

“I’m so sorry, Jae, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going—” Your breath is caught in your throat and you fumble over your words.

“Hey, hey, slow down,” he keeps a hold on your biceps. “It’s alright, I promise. He’s gone. What’s wrong?”

You shut your eyes tightly, feeling pathetic for causing such a scene for no apparent reason. Hyunjae guides you through your breathing, his focus trained on you the whole time. He always made you feel so comfortable.

“With everything that’s been going on, I’m just so paranoid and afraid of being alone. I wanted to go to the music department building and wait for the boys.” You finally explain once you’ve calmed down and the rise of your chest is even.

“How about this? I’ll take you home so you don’t have to stay on campus any longer.” He suggests, bringing up a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. You nod slowly, gathering your bearings.

Hyunjae leads you to his car that’s parked in the lot closest to the building you were just in and the two of you make your way to your apartment. You’d been friends with your roommates for years now, meeting in eighth grade. You had just moved schools and happened to be put into a class with Eric Sohn, the most rambunctious boy you’d ever met. He thought you seemed really sweet upon first impression and decided to befriend you, introducing you to all of his friends in turn.

Aside from Eric, there was Sangyeon, Jacob, Younghoon, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Kevin, Changmin, Chanhee, Haknyeon, and Sunwoo. While it was a little overwhelming, it was nice going from zero friends to eleven in the span of just a couple days. You were pretty close to all of them, but you and Hyunjae initially hit it off the best. You understood each other on a different level than everyone else and to this day, you still don't know the exact reason why.

Towards the end of high school, your friendship with Hyunjae transformed into something that wasn’t purely platonic. You weren’t entirely sure when it started to change, but your feelings for him grew exponentially. You tried to keep them to yourself, hidden from the world to preserve your fragile teenage heart. Though you’d already been friends with them a few years at that point, you still had that inkling of dread in the pit of your stomach that one day they’d choose to stop talking to you. You especially didn’t want a silly crush to be the cause of that.

After a while, however, the lines began to blur together anyway and everyone could tell you felt for him romantically. Once, Eric had made a comment about it being so painfully obvious that Hyunjae was just as into you and it nearly shook your whole world.

When college time rolled around, you all knew you’d be attending the same university, so picking roommates was a bit of a tricky situation. You chose yours solely based on the fact that you were majoring in similar things, so it’d be easy to fit schedules together. (You also couldn’t handle being roommates with Hyunjae; it’d be too much for your heart.) Hyunjae lived with Juyeon, Changmin, and Sunwoo, while Sangyeon, Younghoon, Chanhee, and Haknyeon lived together.

Hyunjae parks in a spot near the stairs that lead to your unit. The car is still running when you unbuckle your seatbelt and you stare at the steps blankly. Though the close proximity with him has your pulse racing, you want nothing more than some company until your roommates get home. You turn to him shyly, balling up a fistful of your sweater.

“Jae, do you— do you think you could stay with me for a bit before the boys come back? I don’t— I really don’t wanna be alone right now.”

The look he gives you is full of adoration, like you personally put the stars in the sky. He smiles softly and nods, reaching across the center console to place a comforting hand on top of yours. The two of you keep them intertwined as you go inside your apartment, locking all the locks carefully before sitting on your couch.

You don’t make a comment about him not letting go despite already being in the safety of your home. You don’t say anything about him pulling you into his side either, mostly because you want him to.

With all that’s been happening recently, you’ve felt so hollow. There was this indescribable emptiness expanding in you and even though you so desperately wanted to chalk it up to something else, you knew it was due to the fact that there was growing anxiety that you could be next, that any of your friends could be next. You were starting to move like you were in a simulation, doing everything in your daily routine without a single emotion. Sure, you’d laugh when Eric made a stupid joke but that’s about the most anyone could get from you aside from the occasional panic attack.

Hyunjae being here and holding you is exactly what you needed to feel some semblance of warmth again.

There’s a soft knock on your bedroom door around eight that same night, waking you from your slumber. You don’t remember falling asleep or being moved to your bed, so you’re not too sure when Hyunjae left. You rub the sleep from your eyes as you get up to open your door.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you, but we got some takeout if you’re hungry.” Jacob says with an apologetic smile, leaning on the door frame.

You give him a bleary look as you nod, following him into the dining room where your other two roommates were sitting at the table. Eric greets you through a full mouth. A small laugh escapes you when you sit across from him, Kevin adjacent to your seat. The sound of the TV in the living room plays as background noise as the four of you eat.

“So when’d you get home? I thought you were gonna wait for us.” Kevin asks.

“I was, but then I ran into Hyunjae when I was on my way to your building and he offered to bring me home,” you shrug, taking some tteokbokki with your chopsticks. “It was a whole thing, please don’t ask.”

Eric hums to himself, a mischievous grin on his face as he takes a sip of his cola. “Interesting. And you say he’s not into you…”

Heat blooms over your cheeks and you accidentally drop your chopsticks on your plate, their clacking against the ceramic garnering your roommates’ attention. Eric Sohn was now number one on your hit list. Kevin elbows him in the side and tells him to be quiet, despite the tiny upwards curve of his lips.

“If he cares about you as much as he seems like he does, he wouldn’t have left you here alone after you fell asleep,” Jacob mutters, looking at you from his peripherals. “What was the point of escorting you home if—”

“Jacob shut the fuck up,” Eric suddenly blurts, the three of you stare at him as he clambers over to the living room, turning up the volume on the TV. “Look!”

You turn in your chair, your stomach churning at the news report unfolding before you.

“We’re live just outside SNU, where another victim has been found. The body hasn’t been identified yet, but from what we do know, he was a student that attended the school,” the female reporter says into the microphone she’s holding, a glazed over expression in her eyes. “Crime Scene Investigators believe he was murdered at around six this evening, and was assumed to have been making his way home from campus. Updates are expected to come later tonight once we have more information.”

You know that far away, checked out gaze she had all too well. She’s reported on the killings for a while now, no doubt numb to the way things were at this point.

Your appetite spoils immediately and you excuse yourself from the table, making your way back to your room. You sit on your bed and bring your knees to your chest, taking a deep breath in, then covering your mouth when you breathe out to muffle the sob that follows. It was becoming too overwhelming for you and there was nothing you could do about it besides sit back and watch.

It was understandable for anyone in your situation to feel hopeless, how could they not? With someone terrorizing the city in an unpredictable manner, there was no sense of normalcy in anyone’s life. You shudder when you finally bring yourself to stop crying, digging your nails into the fat of your calves.

Through the walls, you can hear the boys talking, voices solemn.

“Why’d you have to put the TV louder, dumbass?”

“Sorry, I just like being up to date on the case, you know? I want to be prepared. What if I need to learn clone jutsu to take out the guy?”

“Eric, you’re such a clown, oh my god.”

“I get that you’re interested and all, but you have to be mindful of Y/N. You know how much this has affected her both emotionally and physically, she doesn’t need the constant reminder that it’s happening. And I’d appreciate if you apologized for telling me to ‘shut the fuck up’.”

There’s a snort in between.

“My bad, I didn’t mean to be rude about it. But while we’re on the topic, I think we both need to admit our mistakes. What you said about Hyunjae to her wasn’t cool either. I know we’re all friends, but it just came across too—”

“It was really snappy, Jacob. And a bit petty.”

“Yeah! What Kevin said.”

“I— you’re right. I just don’t want her getting hurt, in more ways than one.”

You don’t hear much else from the trio and sigh heavily, dragging your hands down your face and wiping your eyes with the heels of your palms. You grab your phone from your nightstand and hesitantly search for Hyunjae’s contact, the line ringing a couple times before he answers.

“Y/N? Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“N-no, I’m fine. I was just— I wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay,” you mess with your bottom lip. “I heard there was another victim and I didn’t know when you left the apartment, so I just— uh— I just needed to know that you were safe. I called to see if you’d answer.”

You squeeze your eyes shut out of embarrassment, even if he can’t exactly see you. The stuttering was enough to make you go into hiding for the rest of your life if this serial killer didn’t.

“Oh,” you can hear the slight chuckle in his response from the way his breath hits the speaker. “It means a lot that you’d do that, N/N. Really, I appreciate you so much.”

Your lip finds itself between your teeth and your heart is pounding unbearably fast, you think you might be having a heart attack. You bring a hand up to clutch at your chest as a fuzzy feeling courses through your whole being.

Now you were scared for an entirely different reason.

(The main one occupies your mind again later that night when you scroll through your Twitter feed, only to find out the most recent victim was the guy you accidentally bumped into. You feel like some sick version of a guardian angel was looking after you. It makes it hard to fall asleep after that.)

A couple days passed and you found yourself thinking about Lee Hyunjae more than usual.

Not to say that you didn’t already think about him at least once a day, but now it was worse. When you woke up, you wondered if he was still asleep. While you drank your morning coffee, you wondered if it’d taste sweeter had he made it for you. When you had lunch, you wondered if he’d like the spam musubi you made yourself. When you attended your other classes, you wondered which courses he was struggling with this semester.

As you were walking out of your English class, you recalled running into him. Had he not been there, you might’ve driven yourself insane trying to rush over to the music building while diffusing the issue with that stranger.

When you first began to harbor feelings for him, you assumed it would become nothing more than a silly schoolgirl crush. He was attractive and kind to you, but that was just the bare minimum— you thought you’d grow out of it. However, as time went on, what you thought was just puppy love had blossomed into something stronger. It was a force to be reckoned with.

Of course, all of that had been tossed on the back burner with everything that’s going on. Recently you’ve been too afraid for your own safety and well-being to over analyze your interactions with Hyunjae, but now you’re back to square one.

All because he’d done something nice for you.

God, the bar was so low. Was it really too much to ask for someone who was decent? Someone who wasn’t a serial killer?

You were on your way to the music building to wait for Jacob, Kevin, and Eric once again, when you see Hyunjae coming down the hall. He’s on his phone, not paying any mind to his surroundings. You’re about to call out to him when someone stops you, tugging on the sleeve of your sweater gently.

“Hey, Y/N right?” The tall boy asks, a charming smile on his face.

“Uh— yeah,” you nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Y-you are?”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I must seem like a total weirdo,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m Mingyu! We have English together.”

“Oh, you’re Mingyu? Professor Park told me about you before class today,” you give him a small comforting smile. “I don’t mind helping you!”

“Ah, that’s great to hear. I was a bit worried you’d be more annoyed about having to tutor someone so late in the semester.” Though he’s much taller than you and approached you first, Mingyu comes across as a little shy in nature. It puts you at ease in a way.

“No, not at all! English isn’t always the easiest, I get that. I wanna help as much as I can before finals. Look,” you pause, pulling your backpack off one shoulder to rip out a sheet of paper. “I’ll give you my number so we can arrange meet up dates! I’d prefer if we met at the library if that’s okay with you?”

Mingyu grins and sports a thumbs up in agreement. “That sounds perfect. Thank you so much, Y/N!”

You scribble your phone number onto the paper and hand it to him before parting ways. With the off guard conversation, you nearly forgot about Hyunjae, who was nowhere to be seen now. You feel your lips droop into a frown, since you were hoping you could talk with him for a second.

As you’re walking across the quad to the music building, a wind chill blows past you, making you wrap your arms around yourself. It was mid November and for some stupid reason, you were only wearing a small cardigan.

When you squint up at the sky, you also realize it’s more overcast than anything. There’s an angry grey cloud right above you and you curse yourself for not having an umbrella or a raincoat. You should've been more prepared, especially because of the inconsistent weather this time of year.

Suddenly, the sky is blocked from your view and you furrow your brows, spinning around. Hyunjae stares back at you with a smile ten times warmer than the frigid air surrounding you and a thicker jacket in one hand. The other holds up an umbrella just as tiny droplets begin to fall from above.

His timing couldn’t have been better.

“Heading to the music building?” He asks, skillfully placing the coat on your shoulders.

“Mhm… was gonna wait for the boys.” You respond, a little awestruck by how gorgeous he was. Especially up close. Your eyes fixate on the freckle on his nose rather than his own. He hums, keeping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you in a different direction.

“I can take you home again,” he glances down at you. “I don’t mind one bit.”

“O-okay!”

During the car ride to your apartment, you send a quick text to your roommates about not waiting up. You were happy that your relationship with Hyunjae was evolving. The past couple semesters had been rough, and you hadn’t seen him or any of the other guys nearly as much as Jacob, Kevin, and Eric. (And that was only because you lived with them.)

You toss your keys on to the mini table beside the front door, taking off your shoes with a small groan. The boots were cute, but not very comfortable. Hyunjae follows suit, his sock clad feet shuffling against the floor to sit on the couch.

After switching on the TV, you find a random Hallmark Christmas movie to play in the background, knowing full well that his presence beside you was too distracting. The brunette turns to face you, placing a hand on your thigh gently to get your attention.

“So, who was the dude you were talking to earlier?”

You blink at his question. So he saw you after all. Was he perhaps jealous? The idea shouldn’t make you giddy, but it does. “My professor asked me to tutor him ‘cause he’s struggling with English. Why?”

“Just curious. He seemed a little touchy.” Hyunjae plays with the hem of your sweater.

“O-oh. It’s fine, he wasn’t a random perv, if that’s what you were wondering.”

He scoots a little closer to you, tucking some hair behind your ear. You feel your face flush impossibly hotter. Your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat. His body heat radiates off of him with the new proximity.

“Good. It drives me crazy seeing other guys put their hands on you.” He admits bluntly, his hand resting at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder.

You know you look insane, your chest heaving up and down and your eyes widened a little. Like a baby deer caught by a predator. Who knew sweet sweet Hyunjae had a rather risqué side to him? You swallow thickly, not daring to move an inch. His thumb caresses your skin gently, goosebumps littering in its wake.

“Hyunjae…” You breathe, lips parting as you finally make eye contact with him.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You want to scream into the cushion behind you, your hands clamming up. Hyunjae looks like he could swallow you whole if he wanted to, his bottom lip between his teeth as he leans in a bit more. This moment was something straight out of one of your darkest fantasies. You never thought this would ever happen, that either of you would ever actually make a move on the other.

The sound of the front door unlocking catches both of your attention. Hyunjae pulls away from you faster than your brain can comprehend what exactly just occurred. Jacob is the first to walk in, laughing at something Eric said. The three males pause when they see you’re not alone.

The greetings are quick, Hyunjae dapping up the boys as if nothing. He’s also quick to say goodbye, ensuring them that he’ll make sure you’re safe when they’re not around. He gives you that smile of his, the one where his eyes form crescents, and then he’s gone.

You don’t know how much more of this you could take.

“So, Y/N…” Eric starts in the middle of dinner, side eyeing you as he shovels rice into his mouth. “You and Hyunjae have been together an awful lot lately.”

Kevin snorts, kicking the blonde under the table. You suppose it was going to come up eventually. This ‘Will They, Won’t They’ back and forth shit was starting to tire you out. You weren’t getting any younger. Time was passing you up the longer you waited to just say something. And with all that’s been going on, it was silly to be afraid of admitting your feelings.

“He’s being a good friend, Eric,” Jacob sighs, reaching across to flick him on the forehead. “It’s actually really nice that he watches over Y/N when we’re gone.”

Eric grimaces, rubbing the spot that Jacob assaulted. You frown a bit when you realize that he had a point. Hyunjae was treating you like a child that had to be tended to, babysitting you like you weren’t capable of holding your own. Granted, both times he’s come over, you asked him to. So you couldn’t really blame him for assuming you wanted him around to protect you.

“Do y’all think Hyunjae actually likes me? In a non-platonic way?”

Kevin’s spoon clatters onto the floor and they all pause their banter to look at you. Every time your feelings for Hyunjae were brought up, you chose to ignore them and switch the subject. You can’t keep running away.

“Uh— yeah. Duh. Of course he does. I don’t know anyone else who would go out of their way to stay with someone they saw as just a friend multiple times a week so she felt safe.” Kevin finally answers after a moment.

“Okay.” You settle on, taking a sip of your water.

“What do you mean ‘okay’?” He raises an eyebrow at you, but you just shrug.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

As you’re washing the dishes after dinner, you hear the news broadcast over the faucet. Another victim had just been found behind the campus library. The camera shows the scene behind the reporter, something that would’ve made you queasy a couple days ago, but now you feel nothing— just a dull ache in your chest. It’s messy, almost like the killer was in a hurry to get it over with.

The body is covered with a black tarp, paramedics wheeling it away in the corner of the screen. The reporter still wears that dissociated expression on her face as she goes over the details of this victim. She explains that because the murder was done so haphazardly, they were able to identify the body easily.

Twenty three year old Kim Mingyu, Sports Med Major.

The rest of the news report sounds like static in your ears as you scrub away at the dishes mindlessly. Your fingers have pruned and the water was burning the backs of your hands, but you don’t feel it, too checked out to care. It seemed like the killings were getting closer and closer to you. Part of you thought you’d be next every single time.

You had to tell Hyunjae how you felt. It was now or never.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s waiting outside of your apartment complex, leaning against his car. You take careful steps down the stairs, nearly fainting at the sight of him in a hoodie and grey sweatpants. He runs around the car to open the passenger door for you, only shutting it when you’re all buckled up. It’s not long after that he revs the engine and drives off to nowhere in particular, just like you requested. (Curfew ignored.)

It’s silent at first, save for the low hum of his music, R&B that resonates somewhere within your soul. You can’t help but steal a glance from your peripheral, fisting your sweatshirt when you see how concentrated he looks while driving. He has his right hand resting on the gear shift, the other gripping the wheel. You could’ve had this view all to yourself so long ago had you just spoken up.

“Hyunjae,” your voice is wobbly, but you steel yourself to continue. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Do you think— uh— do you think you could pull over?” If you were going to confess, you wanted him to look at you. Besides, the drive was starting to make you jittery.

He nods and goes a bit further, before pulling into an empty lot. He shifts into park, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn his body towards you, giving you his undivided attention. You mirror him, tightening your hold on your sweater when he wets his lips, smiling at you. “Is this what you called me for?”

“Yeah, actually,” you force yourself to keep eye contact, pushing the lump back down your throat. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for years now, if I’m being honest with both of us.”

He chuckles, much like he did the other night over the phone. It drives you just a little crazy. “I’m listening.”

“I— I don’t know how to word this properly…” You wipe your palms on your legs. Come on, Y/N, spit it out already. “Fuck, okay, I like you Hyunjae. Like, really like you. In the way that I sometimes wish you would kiss me until I can’t breathe. I’ve been so afraid of admitting that to myself, but I’ve realized that life is way too short to dwell over the fear of rejection. But please, tell me you feel the same.”

He stares at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. You feel like throwing up now, you stomach twisting and churning at the thought that you just ruined everything between you. There was no going back after this. He knew.

It’s as if months have passed by in utter silence with Hyunjae just sitting there, no words coming out of his mouth, until finally, he just leans across the center console, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. His vision is trained on your lips, his face close enough that his lashes flutter against your skin. God, he was even more gorgeous from this distance.

Instead of saying anything, he presses his lips to yours, a sweet but desperate kiss that melts away all the worries tucked into your head. They feel so soft on your own, molding together in near perfect timing. It’s like you’d been living for a year without rain and this kiss was the shower that saved you from a drought. It’s all you’ve ever wanted and needed and more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he breathes when he pulls away slightly. “The real thing is so much better than I imagined it would be.”

For once, time slows down in this moment, almost like the world stopped spinning on its axis. Everything slips from your mind and it’s just you and Hyunjae, here in his car in the middle of an empty parking lot. Nothing else matters. You smile at his confession, a genuine smile that was spurred on by contentment rather than force. You felt light and airy, no longer weighed down by such a trivial problem.

“I think I have an idea,” you giggle, reaching up to brush a stray hair from his face. “I’m not too sure, though, I could be wrong. Could you do that again to help jog my memory?”

Hyunjae laughs, (it’s the most melodic sound you’ve ever heard) but doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. You reciprocate his passion, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. He sighs into the kiss, pulling you on top of him. Your legs straddle his lap as best as they can and he reaches down to recline his seat, scooting it as far as it can go from the wheel. The thin material of your fleece shorts hardly hide the feeling of him under you, a low moan pushing into his mouth.

He nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth gently before peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking along the exposed skin from your sweatshirt. You whine, throwing your head back as his tongue soothes over the bruising area. His hands slide under your top, rubbing up and down your sides before moving them down to your thighs, repeating the action.

“You’re so gorgeous on top of me like this, Y/N.” Hyunjae says, just above a whisper like someone else might hear this intimate conversation. He grips your hips and bucks upwards to grind into your clothed core. Your eyes widen and you involuntarily moan at the sensation. This wasn’t what you were expecting when you planned to confess, but you didn’t hate the outcome. He grins at your response, reconnecting your mouths sloppily.

If you were given the choice, you were wholeheartedly satisfied with just this. You would’ve been plenty okay with just making out. Had you been asked years ago that you’d even get this far, you would’ve snorted in your own face, so why should you be greedy and want more than what you had? (That’s not to say that you didn’t.)

“H-Hyunjae,” you stutter, your brain foggy from all of the kissing you just did. “Do you…?”

You trail off, not sure how to word your question. You didn’t want to come off like a sex crazed maniac, but you didn’t want to come off like an amateur virgin either. Truth of the matter is, you were neither, but it had been a while since you indulged yourself in something of this sort. And this time it would be with Hyunjae, the one person you never thought you’d do this with. You were nervous.

All you wanted was to be entwined with him in more ways than one. You wanted all of him— the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the sick, the healthy. He could do no wrong on your eyes and you wanted to show him that.

“Do I…?” Hyunjae trails off, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you want to make love… with me?” This had to be the single most mortifying moment of your life. You cover your face in humiliation, shying away from him when he sits up on his elbows.

“What kind of question is that?” He asks with a chuckle, prying your hands from your face so he could look you in the eyes. “If I could make love to you every hour of the day, for seven days a week, I would. I want you all the time, Y/N. Earlier today, before we got interrupted, I wanted to do unimaginable things to you.”

You hide yourself in the crook of his neck, your skin flushing hotter. Weren't you wearing too many layers? The car was starting to feel stuffy. Hyunjae’s chest rumbles with laughter beneath you, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. This is probably the gentlest he’d be with you all night, because from what you could infer, he was a manhandler.

“Take care of me,” you breathe, mouth brushing against his pulse point. “Please.”

Hyunjae stops holding himself back. He’d do whatever you asked of him, only hoping you’d be tied to him in every lifetime, just like this one. He kisses you again with an unrivaled fervor, slipping his hands inside your sweatshirt and touching you everywhere physically possible. They’re warm on your skin, palming your breasts over the flimsy fabric of your bralette.

He helps you get rid of your top and shorts, leaving you in just undergarments. The sight of you barely clothed sends him into a frenzy, especially knowing it’s for his eyes only. You aid Hyunjae in pulling off his hoodie and yanking his sweatpants down his long legs. The minute most of your restrictions are gone, Hyunjae brings you closer to him. He hisses at the contact, the warmth of your cunt through your panties putting him under a spell.

You whimper when his touch travels down your front, sneaking into the waistband of your underwear. The pads of his middle and ring fingers apply the lightest amount of pressure onto your clit the second he finds it, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your nails on one hand dig into his shoulder while the other trails down his abdomen, rubbing up and down his length through his boxer briefs.

Hyunjae groans into your kiss and you gasp for air as you tear from him, resting your forehead on his to watch as you get each other off through your clothes. If earlier was something taken from one of your wet dreams, what did this constitute as? You clench around nothing when he pushes up into you, your wrists clashing. Knowing he was just as down bad for you as you were for him just made this all that much more real.

“I need to feel you around me,” he mumbles in your ear, dipping his fingers in and out of you languidly as if to explain what he meant. “Let me stretch you out.”

You nod in response, fumbling with his briefs. Hyunjae lifts his hips enough for you to help him out of them. You groan when he reveals his impressive size, wondering how exactly he expected you to take him. He pushes your panties to the side, mimicking the sound you just made when he sees your bare pussy drooling for him. You eventually get frustrated and line him up with your hole, sinking down in one fluid motion. A voluminous moan escapes from the back of your throat, his dick throbbing achingly inside of you. At first you stay still like that, your pelvises touching as you adjust to his length and girth.

“H-holy shit— you’re s-so deep, Jae,” you cry, resting your forehead against his yet again. He pecks your lips, holding onto your hips to help you bounce on his cock, practically impaling you every single time.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Such a good fucking girl,” Hyunjae grunts, the warmth of your walls drawing him in even further. “So tight, too.”

Your thighs begin to burn and your movements become slower, which he takes note of instantaneously. He bends his knees and forces your upper half impossibly closer to him, thrusting up into you. This new angle allows him to find that one spongy spot that has you seeing stars, fogging up your brain and even your vision.

You cast a downward glance at the minimal space between where the two of you are connected. Your moans and whines grow louder with the view of every thrust of his hips into yours. Hyunjae sneaks his hand in the middle of you, his fingers expertly toying with your clit. Any more stimulation and the band in your stomach is snapping.

You’ve had sex before. You’ve slept with a handful of other guys in the past, but nothing could ever compare to this moment. Your cunt had already memorized his size and every vein, effectively ruining the chances of any other man doing this with you. Lee Hyunjae had you in a chokehold whether he realized it or not. He had you wrapped around his finger without really trying, but you could never complain.

Your walls squeeze his cock and he knows he won’t last much longer, shutting his eyes tightly. “C’mon baby, you gonna cum for me?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, your skin flush on his own. “Wanna cum so bad for you, Hyunjae.”

“Yeah? Me too, sweetheart,” he pants, the thumb on your hip pressing against the bone. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you babble. “Please, please. I want you to cum inside me, Hyunjae.”

He kisses you softly just then, swallowing your pretty moans with something completely opposite of what he’s already given you, and that’s what sends you spiraling, fluttering around him. He groans, spilling into you and letting you milk him dry of everything he has to offer, painting your insides just like you asked him to.

You lay like that for a while, Hyunjae’s dick still buried in you to the hilt. Both of you attempt to catch your breaths and bring yourselves down from the well-anticipated euphoric state you just visited. You giggle at the condensation coating the windows of his car, extending your arm to draw a heart and a smiley face with your finger. He slowly pulls himself out, hissing at the sensitivity, but doesn’t make a move to get you off of his chest.

Where do you go from here? A line had just been crossed and you weren’t entirely sure you knew what he wanted from you. It’s one thing to imagine kissing and fucking someone extensively. But it was another to actually want a tangible, romantic relationship from them, to actually capacitate feelings for them.

“I love you,”

You jolt up and stare at him with widened eyes. Did those words really just come out of his mouth? As if he can read your mind, he nods. There’s a dragged out sigh, followed by him sitting up slightly with you perched on his lap.

“I really do, Y/N. I’ve felt this way for years and I’m willing to do anything for you.” He admits, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. You kiss him gently, the pad of your thumb swiping across his cheekbone.

“I love you, too.”

The Saturday after your night in Hyunjae’s car brought everything into perspective for you.

You hadn’t spoken to him since he dropped you off at your apartment and it was beginning to worry you. Even though you made sure he reciprocated your emotions, there still could’ve been a misunderstanding. Had you been too forward? Did you scare him away? Did something happen to him? Whatever the explanation was, you didn’t like the eerie feeling it started brewing in your stomach— it was foreboding.

In spite of not talking to them at all in what seemed to be a month or so, you tried calling each of your mutual friends to see if you could get some answers. Not even his roommates picked up their phones and this made you much more uneasy. You pace back and forth in your living room, nicking at your bottom lip with your nails. Why did he choose now of all times to ghost you? What went wrong?

Kevin comes out of his bedroom a couple minutes later, expecting to grab his morning coffee as usual. When he finds you nearly on the brink of insanity instead, he decides to intervene. He supposed his caffeine could wait until his best friend was calmed down. You jump in surprise, holding a fist to your chest. He raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, my bad. What’s up? Why do you look like you’re going through a quarter life crisis?” Kevin asks you, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Is everything okay?”

“I—“ you pause and take a deep breath. “I don’t know…”

His eyebrows furrow and he guides you to the sofa so you could sit down. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?”

“Hyunjae hasn’t talked to me since Thursday night, after he brought me back here,” your voice is hoarser than you’d like it to be. “I-I texted and called him a bunch but he hasn’t replied. I even— I even tried Juyo, Sunwoo, and Changmin. No luck with them either. I’m concerned, Kev.”

Kevin combs through his hair, pursing his lips in thought. “Yeah, okay, I would be too. It's a little weird that none of them are responding. Have you thought of just showing up at his place to check in on him?”

You shake your head. “No, I didn’t want him to think I’m clingy and annoying in case he was there. What if he just wants to get me off of his back and he’s telling them to ignore me?”

“I don’t think that’s the case at all, Y/N,” your friend sighs, putting his glasses on top of his head and running a hand down his face. “Hyunjae has never been that kind of person in all the years we’ve known him. I highly doubt he’d switch up now. Plus, he’s literally crazy about you. I’m pretty sure the guy would move heaven and earth for you if he could. I think there’s a very real and genuine possibility that something is seriously wrong. It’s like— it’s just a gut feeling, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” If Kevin felt this way, too, that would only mean one thing, right? You had to get to the bottom of this. There was a chance that lives depended on it. A quick roll of your neck and you’re standing. “I’m gonna go over there. I can’t leave things unanswered. I can’t wait for a fucking news report.”

The ravenette pats the top of your head. “Be careful, N/N. Please.”

You give him a nod before you’re slipping into your shoes and grabbing his car keys. You’re not exactly dressed for a confrontation if there is one— clad in a pair of sweatpants, an oversized sweatshirt with your university’s crest on it, and socks with sandals— but you were too preoccupied to care.

The drive itself was mentally taxing, your brain dissociating most of the ride. You’re not sure how many of the lights you passed were actually green. The closer you got to Hyunjae’s apartment, the more that trepidation settling in your lower abdomen grew. Throughout your life, you’d never been the type of person who acted on instinct or had a nagging voice in the rear of your head warning you about situations you got into. You usually went with the flow and if you made a mistake, you allowed yourself to learn from it.

However, that was prior to being thrown into a period of uncertainty like this one. Now, all you could do was act on instinct. All you could do was listen to the stupid nagging voice in the rear of your head yelling at you. All you could do was follow the blaring alarms and caution signs in your field of vision. And this time they were almost deafening.

Kevin’s car rolls to a stop outside of Hyunjae’s building, occupying an empty spot three away from the front of the stairs. Your pulse races when you step out of the vehicle and immediately recognize the cars in the spaces beside yours. Hyunjae’s, Juyeon’s, and Changmin’s. You notice a thin layer of dirt caking Juyeon and Changmin’s, as if they’d remained unmoved for a long time. Perturbed wasn’t a big enough word to describe what was going through your mind.

Half of you was terrified to take a step towards the stairs, let alone ascend them to Hyunjae’s floor. What would go down when you reached his apartment? What would happen the moment that door opened?

You ball your hands into fists, the edges of your nails jabbing the skin of your palms. The pain steels you enough to move forward, walking up the stairs slowly. There’s a chill tiptoeing along your spine the whole trip up, like your body knew what you were getting yourself into before you did. Maybe you were stupid. Only an idiot would lead themselves blindly into a scenario without knowing the outcome.

It’s been minutes of you staring at the slightly rusted numbers on Hyunjae’s door before you register that you’re standing in front of it. If you're being honest, you have no idea what you’re doing. You were acting on autopilot— progressing without a thought of what’s coming next. A shuddered breath leaves your lips and you raise your knuckles to the door.

The first knock is too soft to hear if the inhabitants were in their bedrooms, so you apply more force the second time. The sound reverberates through the hall, a wince appearing on your features. If someone was inside, surely they had to have heard that one. You wait a little longer for the door to swing open and reveal one of your friends looking perfectly fine. For Juyeon to showcase that grin of his that reaches his eyes and ask what you were doing here. For Changmin to give you that sweet smile that puffed up his cheeks and ask what you needed. For Sunwoo to blow a raspberry before he laughed at how silly you were for stressing over them. For Hyunjae to reassure you that it was all going to be okay, that he loved you. You were praying for that.

But no one showed up on the other end of that doorway and you were stuck glaring at that same painted board of wood.

That’s what sends your instincts into overdrive. Your hand grabs the knob, twisting it just in case. It makes a full rotation, pushing open the door the tiniest bit. You peek inside carefully and find all the lights in the living room and kitchen off. Your teeth bite down on your lip as you enter the apartment. One of the things you hated about it, was the annoying buzz of the fluorescent lights in their bathroom. And for some reason, that was all that infiltrated your ears.

The door for said bathroom was cracked just a tad at the end of the hallway, but what caught your attention was the room closest to you— also cracked the most miniscule amount. You see light filtering through, an almost orange glow like that of a desk lamp. Your stupidity would be your downfall, you conclude, your feet gravitating to the room. It’s Hyunjae’s you recall when you’re outside of it. They always say curiosity killed the cat, and you couldn’t help but revert to a feline and nudge it open with your foot.

You really wished that saying was just that— a saying.

Eric sits ahead of you, tied to a chair in the middle of the room. There’s a piece of fabric gagging his mouth and his clothes are tattered, blood staining nearly every inch. A long gash runs along his left bicep and a myriad of smaller cuts litter his face and arms. What your focus lands on first are the several deep stab wounds on his thighs.

A hand comes up to cup your mouth to keep yourself from screaming at the sight of your best friend in this position. He struggles against his restraints, muffled cries for your assistance shattering your heart into a thousand pieces like broken shards of glass. Tear streaks mixed with dried blood cover the apples of his cheeks.

“Oh my god, Eric,” your voice wobbles as you scramble to free him. “Oh my god…”

You pull down the fabric in his mouth first and he gasps for air. His eyes widen at something behind you and he warns, “Y/N—!” before he’s interrupted by your yelp. The person pressed into your back has their arm around your neck with a hold tight enough that you can’t escape, but loose enough that you can breathe, the blunt edge of a knife grazing the column of your throat.

“Tsk tsk, Youngjae. You should know that making so much noise when your killer’s not in the room just alerts them of suspicious activity. That’s survival 101, my friend. Isn’t that right, sweet sweet Y/N?”

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Please, let her go, Hyunjae.” Eric begs. Hyunjae hums, nuzzling his nose in your hair. He rolls his eyes and scoffs after inhaling your scent, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“God, you’re a mouthy one. Not even Juyeon and Sunwoo were this chatty when I slit their throats— then again, it's not like they could talk much anyway.” He snorts.

You felt sick. You were lightheaded now, just at the thought of your friends gone. “W-why are you doing this?”

Hyunjae grumbles, pouting his lips. “Time for me to unravel my evil villain monologue, huh?” He slips a hand under your sweatshirt and pinches the side of your waist. “Well here it is; what you’re dying to know. The first incident was by complete accident, we were simply having a discussion about why he shouldn’t have been staring at your ass while his girlfriend was next to him at Jeong Jaehyun’s end of summer bonfire. The dude got pissed off that I called him out and tried to start a fight, but I shoved him so hard, he fell and hit his head on a rock. I just couldn’t find it in myself to feel bad about it so I left him there like nothing. From then on, anyone who came between us or remotely hurt you in any way wound up on the receiving end of this knife. Funny isn’t it? How you’re the one beneath it this time?”

It all began to fall into place once he laid the cards out on the table for you to read. The guy you ran into Tuesday after class. Poor Kim Mingyu, who just wanted to pass his English final. Your friends not picking up their phones. And supposedly it was all in the name of love.

“Y-you did that for me?”

“Of course, baby,” Hyunjae mutters into the shell of your ear. “I said I’d protect you didn’t I? I just want you all to myself.”

“What the fuck does that possessive bullshit have to do with me? What did it have to do with Juyo or Changmin or Sunwoo?” Eric cries. “Oh god, what about—?”

“Sangyeon, Hoon, Chanhee, Hak? Yeah, those four were taken care of way before my own roommates. You, obviously, were the chosen one this go around. Then it would be Kevin and lastly, Jacob. I planned on stopping after you three unless absolutely necessary.”

“How is any of this fucking necessary? You’re psychotic,” the blonde exclaims, still wriggling in his restraints. “Why would Y/N want you after all of this? Did you really believe she’d never find out about what you’ve done?”

Hyunjae glides the smooth edge of the blade against your skin and releases you from his grip, but takes a hold of your wrist, placing the handle in your grasp. He urges you forward, closer to Eric. “If she was scared of me, don’t you think she would’ve tried harder to escape me? Didn’t even blink when I held the knife to her neck.”

The brunette kisses your temple and you watch the fear in Eric’s eyes morph into defeat. “After everything we’ve been through? I’ve known you since eighth grade, Y/N. Eighth fucking grade. And this is how it ends?”

“H-he loves me,” you stutter, glancing at Hyunjae. “Don’t you?”

“You don’t kill your best friends out of love, Y/N! He’s insane! Please, don’t let him get into your head. You’re not that kind of person.” Eric attempts to reason.

Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you were. Who knows? That didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact that Hyunjae loved you. He loved you so much that he’d kill for you. Over and over and over again.

It was kind of comical that you loved him all the same. You, too, would kill for him. Over and over and over again.

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #the boyz hyunjae #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #tbz hyunjae #lee hyunjae #lee hyunjae x reader #lee hyunjae smut #hyunjae #hyunjae x reader #hyunjae smut #juyeonszn

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deathbecomesthem · 4 months

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Three's Company +18 ONLY minors DNI

Part 2 - Ready, Steddie, Go

*This is a reupload from my old blog. If you think it sounds familiar, it's because it probably is.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Everyone is about age 30 in this one, think mid to late 90s.

Summary: You and Steve share a live in boyfriend, but you're ready to consider a different dynamic. | 3.8K

Contains: Poly relationship dynamics, smut (oral, anal, vaginal), and lots of feelings. It's so soft guys.

A/N: I came into the fandom through the Steddie pipeline, but this is the first time I've tried to write a Steddie x reader. Take it or leave it, this is what I have to offer. I wrote this today, so it's a quick and dirty writing.

---

Months have passed together. You and Eddie. The move into his place was seamless. The room at the end of the hall has been vacant since they first moved in, a three bedroom apartment without a third. It wasn’t Eddie’s idea to add you to the lease, but he was overjoyed when the proposal was made. How could he not be? The love he had for you was something he thought was impossible, and yet - here you are. At the end of the hall.

Family dinner twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays. It was designed to bring the three of you together, and it worked. Those nights are filled with heartfelt discussions and deep laughter that bubbles up from the true places inside of the three of you. On those nights, the hesitation is gone, and Eddie sees his lovers reach across the table and connect in ways he had been dreaming about. A real friendship, a foundation that will last.

Eddie has too much love. With each touch, it folds over and over inside him, growing exponentially. It’s too much for just one person, too much for two. It’s something that Eddie has heard his entire life - he’s too much. Everything about him is too big. But you’ve never made him feel that way, and neither has he. You both take his love, and give what you have in return. Too much love? There’s no such thing. When it overflows, you step aside and let him take the excess. He does the same. The simplicity of it all sent your head reeling those first few weeks, but not now. No, you see it clearly. Each one made for the other, a perfect balance of love and connection.

“I know how it sounds. I get it, I’m not your type,” you smile at the man across the booth slyly, “but I just want you to think about it. I promise, I won’t talk to Eddie unless you and I have an understanding.”

A deep sigh is exhaled from the chiseled jaw of your man’s lover. He shakes his head and widens his hazel eyes before he brings them to meet yours, “Oh, my type? I don’t even know what that is. Eddie’s my type. And so are you.” He offers you a crooked smile, eyes twinkling with the charm that so many people had fallen victim to over the years of his reign as King, “I get it. I see it in you, why he loves you so much.”

And that’s how it goes, toes dipping into the lukewarm waters of possibility that afternoon in the coffee shop down the street from your shared apartment. Open and frank conversation, guilt free about excluding your mutual interest - Eddie. Let him save the heartbreak if the feelings fall too short of something that would work. That’s something you share - you could never hurt him, never be responsible for any of his pain if it can be avoided.

The two of you continue the conversation over the following weeks. Likes. Dislikes. Hard boundaries. Soft boundaries and how to maneuver them. You search your heart and mind, meditating on the idea of the thing. How it will change things, if the things that change will make your lives fuller, or if it will lead to the slow march of relationship death.

You push away the negative thoughts, they’re fueled by insecurity and the unknown. You won’t be ruled by that. This life is the one you have, and you share it with Eddie, the love of your life. Steve though, can he be more than a third roommate? You’ve been letting yourself look at the lines of his face and neck. You’ve let yourself imagine what your fingers would feel like when they slip through his sweat soaked hair. The smell of him lingers in every corner of this home, his smile is safe and kind.

—

It took longer to convince you than it did Steve, even though the idea had sprung up from inside your own mind. You took a month to let the trepidation and nervousness reign before allowing the warmth of possibilities to gain the advantage. Once they won out, you were ready to give the go ahead and talk to Eddie. Let him see the offer, openly given with no hesitation, a gift for him - the love at the center of yours and Steve’s worlds.

“Eddie, my love,” you whisper to him in the darkness of your bedroom. You can feel the brush of his eyelashes against the bare skin of your chest, fluttering at the sound of his name. He hums, the vibrations are an acknowledgement that he’s listening to what you have to say. It’s stupid to want to talk about this now, but Steve has left the ball in your court - he sees the way you’ve wrestled with your own mind over the idea, and it’s in your own bed with the reassuring warmth of Eddie where you feel the safest. Cared for, protected, and less insecure about where you fit into this unlikely familial unit.

You waited until your lover crooked his neck to make eye contact with you in the thick darkness of the midnight hour that softens the overwhelming thoughts that you need to share with him. You push away the shadow of a curl that hides the fullness of his visage before saying the words that have been sitting at the back of your throat for weeks. “Do you remember that conversation we had a few months back, about me, you, and Steve?”

Eddie remembers, it was a night a lot like this one. In the dark he had whispered his secret to you, a precious and fragile thing that you’ve held in your heart, careful not to crush it. He’d wiped the tears from your eyes when you told him you weren’t ready for something like that, fearing he might lose his love for you. That night had reinforced things for Eddie, he knew he could tell you things, he knew you could be honest with him. The love never faded, instead it grew roots that threaded the love he felt for Steve also. A forest canopy where the three of you find shelter.

“I remember,” Eddie’s calloused fingers run down your cheek and under your eyes, a wordless question answered when they leave dry, “but we don’t have to talk about that, Baby. We’re so good.” He kisses at the skin of your chest, warm and soft breathing out the rest, “I love you.”

“I love you, Ed. But I want you to know, Steve and I have talked about it -” Eddie sits up straight in the bed, wide eyes shining by the sliver of moonlight sneaking between the drawn shades of the room.

“You and Steve have been talking?” Eddie repeats. You wait to see if he says more before you give him the rest. “You two talked about the three of us being together?”

“Yes.” You reach your fingers out to gently play with the curls at the side of his face to calm the sudden anxiety that’s building between you. “I didn’t want to talk to you until I knew that Steve and I were on the same page. I didn’t want to disappoint you.” You surprise yourself when the last sentence is choked out on a quiet sob. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying about this.”

Eddie pushes aside the anxiety and wipes away the tear that has escaped from the corner of your eye, “what did Steve say? I haven’t talked to him about adding a third since I met you. I know how he felt about it after he met you, but you two have your own friendship and stuff now.”

You breathe out a relieved sigh. Steve had told you that he had initially hoped the three of you could have something shared, but a part of you hadn’t fully believed it. Hearing Eddie confirm it rouses the butterflies deep in your gut. “Steve’s on board. I’ve spent the last few weeks thinking about everything, and I want it too. I trust you both so much.”

“It’s ok if you need more time, or if you change your mind -” you cut Eddie off with a kiss. Lips brushing lips. You finally tell him the thing you’ve barely been able to admit to yourself.

“I want it. My two beautiful boys.”

—

Saturday mornings are for coffee and cigarettes on the balcony with Steve and Eddie. This morning is much the same, but with sidelong glances between you and two sets of eyes watching as you lazily blow smoke from between your lips. You heard the boys whisper to each other in the kitchen before they came out to join you. The sexual tension is so ridiculous, it makes you bark a laugh when you see Steve lick his lips.

“Jesus Christ, Steve, you’re drooling. See something you like?” You wiggle your shoulders under your oversized pajama shirt that leaves everything to the imagination. He’s seen you in it a million times before, only this time it’s different. He’s thinking about what’s underneath knowing he’ll get to see the curves and angles of you soon. It’s been a long time since he’s been with a woman, and he can’t stop thinking about how soft your skin will feel under his hands.

“Sorry.” He’s sheepish, the tips of his exposed ear immediately turning red at your teasing. It sends a rush of desire through you to see him flush under your gaze. He clears his throat, “I’m sorry, ok. I can’t help it.”

Eddie’s giggle fit is the catalyst for your own. The tension releases in a flurry of gasping laughs and an indelicate snort from your lips. You feel like a teenager with a crush. A first date with the cute boy for which you’ve been harboring a secret crush for months. But it’s just Steve. He buys your Tampax and cleans the bathroom when you and Eddie forget. He’s smiling shyly behind his acrylic frames, and you wonder how you’ve missed it for so long. You push back the regret, because this is how it’s happening. Better now than never.

“Don’t be sorry, Stevie. I like it when you look at me like that.” You drop your voice. You let yourself feel sexy despite the coffee breath and last night’s makeup smeared beneath your eyes.

“Jesus Christ, you two are fucking killing me.” Eddie shakes his head and drains the last dregs from his mug before he kisses your cheek to head inside for a shower. “You guys need this more than I do.”

Steve follows Eddie into the apartment a couple seconds later, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek as he passes. A thing he does often, but he feels warmer today. You notice the honey highlights of his hair under the early morning sun and sigh. It feels right, seeing him like this. It feels good having him look at you.

It’s the farmers market first where you get fresh bread, cheese, and loads of veggies. Eddie’s making dinner for the three of you, roasted vegetables with tempeh and rice. The bread and cheese is for a quick snack lunch down by the river, sitting between the two warm bodied men, their hands meeting behind you in an embrace. The river hypnotizes you, the quiet rush of the water insistent. You leave them on the river bank and shed your sandals. With your jeans rolled up, you step into the shallow water, smooth pebbles under your toes. You can feel eyes on you, and let them watch you watch the water move downstream. Steve and Eddie watch you wet your toes, never saying a word.

The whole day is quiet. Even Eddie finds words unnecessary, a rarity. The shy flirtation between you and Steve has an effect on him. It’s killing him, every moment of the day the tension builds more and more. He’s been half hard since he saw you teasing Steve under the early morning sun. He wishes he could have hauled you both into the bedroom at that moment, hands and mouths mapping undiscovered territory - but this is what you all want. A day together, a reminder of what’s real before you all get lost in the fog of lust. But, it’s killing him.

By the time you all finally make it back to the apartment, the sun is low in the sky, light fading. Three heartbeats in a steady rhythm, nervous giggles escaping lips while shoes are thrown in the corner of the living room. Steve doesn’t even care that not a single one made it to its assigned spot, he can only see you and Eddie. You hold out your hands to him and to Eddie, both happily oblige. The wine from dinner gives you a pleasant buzz, the anxiety is gone completely with your fingers tangled in theirs while you lead them to Eddie’s room.

The door between yours and Steve’s is your shared boyfriend’s. A bed rarely slept in, his time split between his lovers’, but tonight it will be full. The symbolism is not lost on any of you, neutral ground for the newest chapter in your story. All day you’ve wondered if you’d be able to follow the steps. There’s been a prickling anxiety that it might feel unnatural, but it doesn’t. All you feel now is heat in your belly when you see that Eddie and Steve are hard in their jeans. A pulse begins to pound where you want to be touched, and he’s on you as if he can feel it himself.

Eddie’s kissing you hard, his hands immediately find the curve of your ass and you wonder how you could have ever doubted this. Steve is still gripping your left hand, his large thumb runs across your knuckles as Eddie’s tongue breaches your lips to taste you. You squeeze back, the sweat of your palm mixing with Steve’s while Eddie moans deep.

“Can I watch you two?” Steve’s voice is hoarse and full of want. “You’re both so pretty.”

You break away from Eddie, mouth opening, closing, opening again. No sound coming out, too lost already. Eddie helps, his head resting on your forehead and turns to see Steve before answering, “Stevie wants to watch, Baby. He can join in when he wants, though, right?” You nod, keeping your eyes on Eddie, already overwhelmed.

It’s enough for both of them, and clothes are sloughed off onto the carpeted floor until you’re bared completely for Eddie. For Steve. You know this dance, even with an audience of one. Eddie and Steve both sink to their knees. Eddie pulls your legs apart wide while Steve rests his head on the mattress next to you. A perfect viewpoint to watch Eddie’s tongue and fingers work.

“This is the best part, Steve. She makes the prettiest sounds when you do this.” Eddie spreads your legs apart, wider than normal so the view is completely unobscured before he flattens his tongue and runs it hard along your slit. Once, twice, three times. With laser focused precision, he zeroes in on your clit and begins to rub it between his upper lip and tongue while two fingers breach your hole to move inside of you.

It’s all faster than usual, urgent and desperate, but your body reacts in kind. It meets Eddie’s need, and you can hear yourself crying out without any conscious decision to do so. A hand finds yours, threading between your fingers with digits longer and thinner than Eddie’s. Steve’s hand in yours while you climb the mountain of pleasure. He’s keeping you firmly on the ground.

It’s Steve that talks you through the white hot lighting that spreads across your vision. “Oh wow. You’re doing so well. You’re so perfect, taking what you need from Eddie. God, I can smell you from here, you smell amazing Baby.” It’s Steve’s firm hand that rests on your hip when you start to pull away. He holds you there to ride through your high while Eddie drinks you up.

When you open your eyes you see them kissing, tongues sloppily dancing. Steve whining at the taste of you on Eddie’s lips. The hand that held you down now threading through the curls at the nape of Eddie’s neck, drawing him closer and closer. You’re still pulsing, and the sight makes you ache for them both.

“Fuuuuucccckkkk. Oh my god.” Your panting voice breaks their kiss, and you regret it immediately. Pink cheeks and hooded eyes take in your naked form in front of them, and pupils dilate. “Please. Please. I need you.”

I need you. You don’t know if you’re talking to Eddie or Steve or both of them. It doesn’t matter, because they answer by smiling at each other, Steve’s fingers undoing Eddie’s belt, and then Eddie’s hands pulling Steve’s shirt over his head. On and on and until they’re both on display in front of you. Works of art for you to admire. You burn it into your mind’s eye, hard cocks lazily held in hands while they eat you up with their eyes.

You know what comes next because it’s something you’ve all agreed you want to try. Eddie’s cock stretches you open in a familiar way that feels like home. A whimper leaves his lips when he sinks all the way into you. His eyebrows knit together, concentrating on the feeling of you surrounding him, swallowing him up. Your eyes seek out Steve and see him holding his heavy cock firmly in his grip. He’s matching Eddie’s rhythm, he’s trying to feel what Eddie feels.

Your second orgasm crashing down on you under Steve’s weighty gaze, it’s impossible to hold back. Eddie never falters, if anything he picks up his pace trying to reach you while you soar high above the bed. He’s so deep, Your hands are tugging at your nipples, desperate for anything to latch onto. You realize that Steve isn’t by your side anymore, he’s behind Eddie now.

With Eddie still deep inside, the head of Steve’s cock begins to play at Eddie’s hole. Eddie stills at the feeling. He keens, a sound you’ve never heard him make before, and you pulse around him. You can feel Steve push into Eddie, his cock reaches deeper inside of you. And again. Eddie’s hips are moving only through the force of Steve’s. It’s so beautiful to see this sight in front of you. Eddie’s gone at the feeling of Steve’s cock buried deep inside of him. Steve’s hand is in Eddie’s hair, pulling his head back to give you a full view of your boyfriend’s lovely neck. Every thrust of Steve’s hips is met with a small cry from Eddie. The cock inside of you slips out, and you decide it’s time to make a quick change.

You reach up to cup Eddie’s cheek in your hand and say, “turn around, Baby. Let me hold you.” Eddie’s too gone already, you and Steve turn him around. You pull Eddie back against your chest to hold him, and Steve spreads his legs open wide. From this vantage point Steve is so beautiful it makes you ache. His pretty cock leaking arousal. And then it disappears again, deep inside Eddie.

Steve’s eyes are fixated on your face, and you're fixated on his. One of your hands is in Eddie’s sweaty hair, soothing him while Steve sets a bruising pace. You reach down and grip your fist around Eddie’s leaking length. It’s bouncing against his stomach, so hard and desperate to be touched. You push the hair away from Eddie’s ear and begin to speak. Your eyes never leave Steve’s.

“You’re doing so well, Eddie, taking that fat cock in your tight little ass.” Steve falters for a second, his jaw is clenching at your words. He’s trying to hold on until Eddie cums at least. “Your boyfriend is so pretty, Ed. How’d I get so lucky, hm? The two prettiest dicks I’ve ever seen, all for me.” Steve's hips move faster, he’s close now. So is Eddie. Wordless whines at the back of his throat and reverberates through your chest.

There’s a sort of power you had not expected in this position. Both men under your spell. And you decide - mercy. You know exactly how to push them both over the edge, break this fever. They both sit painfully on the edge of oblivion, Steve’s eyes still on yours, lost in chasing the rhythm of his hips.

“He’s good, isn’t he, Steve?” His eyes widen, it’s the first time you’ve directly addressed him in this bedroom. You can feel Eddie begin to pulse in your hand, stomach muscles tensing, and you shoot to kill - “I’m good too. Do you want to feel how my asshole feels while Eddie fucks my pussy, Stevie?”

Eddie lets out a strangled cry, cum shoots up his stomach and over your fingers, while Steve slumps down on top of Eddie. Shallow and deep thrusts accompanying his moans. You reach out, finally able to touch Steve, and run your fingers through his sweaty mane. You run a finger along the line of his jaw while he and Eddie find their breath.

“Your girlfriend is evil.” Steve huffs out the words into the skin of Eddie’s chest while you all still lay in a pile of sweat and cum.

“Mmm, I know she is. But I think maybe she’s your girlfriend too, Stevie. She doesn’t invite just anyone into her ass.” Eddie can’t even fully deliver the line before he’s laughing. A joyful sound that feels like relief. “God, we’re a fucking mess.”

“Everyone needs to get off of me right now, I can’t breathe.” You feel weak under the weight of both men, pushing on Eddie’s shoulders with little effect. Steve rolls off Eddie, pulling him off of you at the same time.

You look at the clock. 9:30. You laugh, and groan. “I’m taking a shower and getting the butter pecan from the freezer. You two do what you want.”

You leave the room, not bothering with your clothes, and hear the boys groaning. You know they can’t resist ice cream. You think that it might be a good idea to do some bed shopping tomorrow. The queen won’t do it, not for the three of you.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x steve harrington #steddie x reader #steddie x reader smut #steddie x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader

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myfavouritefoodismilkbread · 5 months

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Y/N being a brat on purpose because she likes the punishments

Hyung line

Warnings: suggestive, degradation, punishment, edging, orgasm denial, spanking

A/N: just a subby here who wished these happen to her y’all :)) it’s pure fiction, my imagination, my writing DOES NOT reflect the way the boys really are

Chan

For the last 2 months you’ve played by his rules, you’ve been the perfect little good girl he wanted, but today you felt a bit reckless. You love his spankings, it’s something about his big hands landing on your sensitive skin of your bum. Today was the day when you’re gonna say no, be a brat, you needed the brat treatment, just the tough of it makes your pussy wet.

“Babygirl, the dinner is ready, come eat please” said your beloved boyfriend Chan, and you knew it was your time to shine.

“No, I’m not hungry” you said with a smirk on your lips.

Chan thought that he didn’t quite hear right, you saying no? That’s not something he enjoyed so much. He came by the sofa where you stand playing on your switch, and he asked you:

“Excuse me? I don’t think I hear you right. What did you said, babygirl?”

He wasn’t that angry, not yet at least. So you think you can play harder. Without looking at him, your head invested in the game you played, you said again:

“I said no daddy, I’m not hungry. I don’t wanna”

He look at you in disbelief, what do you mean no? He was tired from today’s schedules, and even so he wanted to cook for you to spoil his babygirl and she said no? He wasn’t having any of that.

“Y/N.”

Now you got him where you wanted. Calling you by your name? He was angry. But it wasn’t quite enough, you decided you could do more, so the moment when you look up at him and told him what you wanted to say, you knew it’s gonna be over for you, your pussy clenching around nothing just by the tought:

“Christopher.”

That was it. The last straw. You calling him by his name? No, this is not happening.

“Bend over my knees. Now. If you’re gonna squirm, cry, scream or anything related to it I’m gonna start over. 10 spanks, you’re gonna count, you hear me, you brat?”

HELL YES. You looked into his eyes and simply told him “Yes, daddy” compling with everything he said.

You bend over his knees, and the moment you put yourself into the position to take your punishment he tore your panties and put his 2 fingers over your pussy which was glistering with your arousal.

You hear him laugh at that, by now he figured out your plan and he said:

“You’ve being a brat on purpose? Hmm, babygirl? You wanted daddy to spank you, princess?”

While he said those words to you, he also put his fingers inside your pussy and start scissoring them, a moan slipped thru your mouth already:

“N-no daddy, ahh, I promise!”

“You fucking brat, also lying to her daddy?”

SPANK.

He caught you by surprise, a sound of pain and pleasure erupted from your month.

“What did I said to you, babygirl? No sounds, or I’m gonna start again. Add 5 more because you didn’t count, yea?”

Lee Know

Minho was scary when he was mad, you knew. But something about mean Minho got you butterflies in your tummy, also, when you were being a brat it always end up with you squirting.

His punishment were not easy, he liked to edge you ‘till the verge of tears and denied your orgasm until he was convinced you deserve to cum.

Today was the day, you wanted to make him mad, so when he asked you if you wanted to go with him at dance practice you knew that was the perfect place.

In one of the breaks, you looked at Changbin and you knew he was gonna be the victim. Without much notice, you said loud enough so your boyfriend could hear you:

“Hey Binnie, you worked out lately? Your arms looks good today!”

At that statement, your boyfriend head snaps at you and he looks at you intensly, but that wasn’t enough. When Changbin attention was on you, you said to him:

“I really wanna go to the gym too but I don’t know where to start. Maybe you can teach me some things, for wannabes”

Changbin smiled at you because he figure it out what you were tryna do, so as a good friend he played along:

“Sure, y/n. If you are free tomorrow, I can show you some things, what do you say, kitten?”

When Minho heard Changbin call you kitten he saw red. Only him gets to call you kitten, and Bin knew. You smiled at Changbin because you knew he was helping you and also to piss off Minho more. When you wanted to respond to Changbin you heard your boyfriend say:

“I’m going home. See you tomorrow. Y/N, get out, now”

At his words you got up and went to the door, looking at Changbin and whispering a “Thank you” to him, he already winked back at you.

You arrive in Minho’s car, pretending that nothing’s happening, and you ask him with your sweetest voice:

“What’s worng, Min? Did something happen?”

He looks at you and you saw how angry he was. He scared you a little but you knew it’s gonna be the ride of your life. He open his mouth and said in his deep voice:

“You wanna be a slut around my friends? It’s not a problem, kitten. I’m gonna treat you like the slut you are, yea? Get in the back, now”

Shit, he is already degrading you, he was mad mad. You get into the back of the car and looked at him with innocent eyes. He asked you:

“What’s your safe word?”

“Teacup” you said looking at him serios in the eyes, a bit scared but excited.

“Good, remember it, yeah? Take your chlotes off”

“But Min, what if someone see us? We are in the parking lot at JYP” you said concerned a little. He just laugh at you saying:

“Let them, everyone needs to know who you belong to. You had to think about that before starting being a whore, yeah? Now put on a show for Binnie, I just text him to come bring me my bottle which I acidentally forgot, yeah kitten?”

Changbin

Changbin never gets mad at you, much of it is because the man loves and cherishes you with all his being.

Sex with him is always vanilla. Don't get me wrong, you love sex with him, he always makes sure you finish first, not just once, at least 3 times.

The thing is that once in a while, when you really piss him off, he fucks you hard, so hard you can't talk. That was his punishment.

Today you felt like he needed to fuck you that way, hard, so you made up a plan to piss him off, of course. Nothing piss Binnie off more than silence treatment. He’s the type of guy who wants to solve his problems with you, he can’t stand you not talking to him, so when he comes in your shared bed and asked you:

“What’s up, Jagi?” you didn’t respond to him. He tought that you didn’t hear him and tell you again:

“Jagiya, hello?”

But nothing. Silence. He started getting worried at first and asked you:

“Jagi what’s wrong, are you mad at me? I did something wrong?”

At that you just glanced at him and turn yourself on the other side, now your back facing him.

Changbin didn’t eat that at all, no. Instead he got mad, pulling you by your hand and turned you to face him telling you in his deepest voice:

“If you’re not gonna talk to me this won’t end well, Y/N. Tell me what is wrong so we can fix it or I’m gonna make sure you won’t walk for the rest of the week, cause I’m gonna fuck this attitude out of you”

You had him. You really had him. So in order for him to do what he told you he would do, you made a gesture you knew it’s gonna be the end for you. You just rolled your eyes, without saying a word.

Changbin was MAD. He pin your hands above your head and placed himself above you, looking strainght into your eyes, saying:

“When I ask you what color are you you’re gonna fucking tell me, understand?”

Fuck yes. You nod your head looking at him. At that he told you:

“Words, princess.”

“Yes, Bin”

He spanked you on your tights.

“That’s not my name, jagi. Tell me again, but use my name properly this time.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Atta girl.”

Hyunjin

Hyunjin was a hopeless romantic and you wouldn’t change that for the world. He called you his muse, the way he called you “baby” so sweet, with pure love in his eyes, he loved you endlessly and he’s convinced he can’t live without you.

But also, Hyunjin have a part in him that the world don’t see it, only you see it, when you’re being a brat. His punishments are just like Minho, hard but always end up with you squirting and in bed for at least 2 days, because you feel so sore.

Hyunjin it’s a person who gets angry easily. He have a temper so much like yours, the difference between you two is that he’s turning himself into a hard dom when he’s mad, something that you love with all your heart and pussy.

Today was one of that days when frustration got the best of you, he leave this morning and let you in your shared bed with the promise that he’ll come home as soon as you could, but the problem is you were horny. So, so horny. So you decided to take the problems in your hands and text him:

“Hyuneee, i need you so bad right now…”

You put your phone down and waited patienly on the sofa of your shared apartament for a reply. 2 minutes pass and you hear a notification on your phone, a text from your boyfriend:

“Baby I promise it’s not gonna take long, in max 2 hours I’m home, yeah sweets?”

You groan at his response, 2 hours it’s too long, so you text him back:

“But 2 hours are too long Jinnie, please, I can’t…”

He saw your message immediately, a sign that he is with his phone in his hands, so you text him another one:

“Shit daddy, I need you so bad rn”

He types. And stop. And types again. And stop again. It was agonizing to say at least. Finally, a message appear on your screen:

“Baby, i’m coming home as fast as I can. Don’t forget that you don’t have permission to play with yourself, don’t even think about touching your princess parts, yeah baby?”

At that a smirk appear on your face. You open the camera and record a video of yourself doing exactly what he told you not to, playing with yourself. You press send along with this message:

“But I can’t hold it daddy, ‘m so wet for you, please it hurts”

After 1 minute you saw that he was offline. Fucking prick, who does he think he is? Telling you to not play with yourself and after that ignoring you? No, you’re gonna show him that this time you make the rules.

You went into your bedroom and take the pink vibrator out of your nightstand, turning it on and place it on your clit, some of the tension starting to fade away.

You didn’t hear the door open, you were too lost into your own pleasure to hear your boyfriend coming in your bedroom, leaning against the door frame, looking at you.

After watching for a few seconds, you heard his voice clear when he said:

“What the fuck are you doing? I told you, you don’t have the permission to do that, why would you want to be a brat, today, hmm? You wanted me that badly, baby? You have me, but the moment I start to touch you don’t you dare to even think about cumming until I give you the permission, you hear me sweets?”

#skz #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin

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matan4il · 2 months

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Daily update post:

Bibi Netanyahu has now officially said that Israel has killed Hamas' 4th most crucial senior. The top 4 Hamas terrorists are, by Israel's order: Yahya Sinwar (#1), the leader in Gaza, Mohammed Deif (#2), the military leader of Hamas in Gaza, Marwan Issa (#3), Deif's second in command, and Saleh al-Arouri (#4), the military leader of Hamas outside of Gaza and the deputy of Hamas' "political bureau."

We already had reason to think Israel was behind al-Arouri's death, after the Oct 7 massacre (on Jan 2), but now it's confirmed. Bibi's admission comes while everyone's still trying to understand whether Israel has managed to kill Hamas' 3rd most crucial senior, Marwan Issa, on the night between this Saturday and sunday. So far, Hamas is trying to provide proof he's alive, but apparently there's been no contact with him since Israel's strike. If he has been killed, that would make the other two Hamas seniors in Gaza, Sinwar and Deif, far more afraid for their lives, and maybe more willing to show flexibility in releasing the Israeli hostages to save themselves.

Italy has arrested 3 Palestinians for their intent to carry out terrorist attacks. The attacks were meant to be carried out on what Italy referred to as, "foreign soil," Israel is asking for the extradition of at least one. The three were living in Italy for years based on humanitarian visas. They're said to be a part of the al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigades. For those who don't know, this was a terrorist organization that was originally receiving orders and funding from Fatah, the ruling party of the Palestinian Authority, but today it has splintered into separate cells, some still affiliated with Fatah, some operating independently, and some linked to Lebanese terrorist organization Hezbollah. They've been defined by the European Union (which Italy as a part of) as a terrorist organization since 2023. At least some of the al-Aqsa Martyrs' Brigades participated in the Oct 7 massacre.

At the Oscars, a director hijacked his own "cerebral" Holocaust movie in order to make a political point, in which he denounced hijacking the Holocaust for political purposes, right before dedicating his reward to a non-Jew (who, as an actual ally to Jews, might not have wanted his dedication anyway, but we'll never know, since she died in 2017. Yep, he hijacked her memory as well for his political message). I just want to share the Oscar winning speech of a Jewish Holocaust survivor and movie producer, who never forgot that when you make movies about this horrific time, it should be first and foremost about remembering the victims. Branko Lustig then dedicated his Oscar for Schindler's List to the Jewish people, by donating it to the Israeli institute of Yad Vashem, the one country in the world where people's access to the memory of the Holocaust will never depend on the good will of a non-Jewish majority. You can see the award when you visit our viewing center, where you can watch tens of thousands of Holocaust survivors' testimonies, and listen to their own voices.

Here's a reminder that most of the Jews who were murdered in or survived the Holocaust, were Zionist, and it's wrong to erase their voices, it's wrong to ignore the survivors who were killed, kidnapped or otherwise victimized by Hamas on Oct 7, it's wrong to ignore that they are still targeted by these terrorists simply for being Jews, and it's wrong to throw them under the bus in a hypocritical speech, which reverses who were the first ones to be de-humanized in this conflict, when they erased our Jewish historical connection to the land, our native right to live in it, our efforts to make peace with the Arabs, and the fact that anti-Jewish violence in Israel preceded by decades the existence of the Jewish state. The violence of Oct 7, of the biggest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust, is a direct result of decades of antisemitic de-humanization of Jews before the conflict even had two sides, and no one has a right to ignore that, or hijack the memory of the Holocaust to do it.

I wrote about Canada, and now Sweden is also resuming its funding of UNRWA, and the European Union is also releasing 50 million Euros (over 54.6 million dollars) for UNRWA funding, despite the fact that nothing has actually been done about the symbiosis between UNRWA and Palestinian terrorism. I have zero faith in the UN self-investigation of its own agency, but not even that has been concluded. By starting the funding again without taking even a single measure to make sure that their money isn't going to anti-Jewish terrorism, these countries are sending a CLEAR message that they do not care about the lives of Israelis and Jews. The idea that they have to, because otherwise how would Palestinians get humanitarian aid, is a fig leaf they're hiding behind. Already, I heard one journalist mention that over 50% of the humanitarian aid is being distributed in Gaza by organizations that are not UNRWA, but more than that, in places which had suffered much worse humanitairan crises, and where the UN had no unique local agency (which is everywhere outside the one conflict involving a Jewish state), the UN has never had trouble establishing temporary aid infrastructure. They had no need for an agency operating in that locale for so long, that it has become a party to the conflict. So why is Gaza different!? Why do the lives of Jews and Israelis not matter enough to search for solutions, proven to have worked before, other than funding a terrorist-embedded organization?

Today is the first day of Ramadan in the Islamic year of 1445. Today I wanna wish a Ramadan mubarak to all peace loving Muslims, who uphold the true peace loving meaning of Ramadan, but my heart and my wishes especially go out to (left to right in the pics below) 53 years old Yussuf al-Ziadna, his son 22 years old Hamza al-Ziadna, and 53 years old Farchan al-Qaddi, the three Muslim Israeli hostages still in Gazan captivity. May they get to be released soon and observe this month together with their families, in their own home, in the true spirit of this holiday.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

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deputyrook · 6 months

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Impressions- 5/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

PART 1. PART 2. PART 3. PART 4.

You're a psychic. He's a detective. And a serial killer.

(You're a team.)

Word count: 4050

WARNINGS: CORRUPTION, stockholm syndrome, abusive dynamics, general Saw-levels of horror & violence. Reader is drinking the Jigsaw Kool-Aid.

“God, you’re persistent,” you tell Kerry, laying back on your couch and rubbing your temple, “Fine. Yes, I’ll go to therapy and I'll check out the community resources for Jigsaw survivors. Are you happy?”

It's not exactly a lie. You might check out the resources. Kerry's voice crackles across the line in reply: “Good. And if you’re able to remember anything while you’re there-“

Of course. It’s not that she wants you to get help, but rather, she’s hoping that you’ll pick up on some kind of psychic lead from discussing your capture and trauma with a therapist.

A swell of bitterness fills your chest, though you wish it didn't. You’d asked her to come and help you with groceries and chores today, but she’d declined, saying that she was too busy working on the case. Somehow, Mark had been coming around to help more often than she was, and he was balancing his job with being a serial killer.

Kerry’s work has always come first, and her dedication is something you had often admired. The two of you had bonded in university over a shared discomfort at parties and social events. Neither of you had ever quite fit in with the crowd. But even knowing her for as long and as well as you did, it still hurt to know the obsession came before your friendship.

“When are you going to take a break?” You ask, instead of voicing your frustration.

“When I find Eric,” she replies, steadfast. You must make some kind of a critical noise in response, because Kerry adds, “What? Do you believe it’s hopeless? That I should just give up?”

“It’s not that,” you mutter with a sigh, already regretting this line of conversation, but knowing that Kerry won’t give it up until she pulls the truth from you.

“Then what?”

“Just that maybe Matthews shouldn’t have gone and played Cowboy Cop, shooting from the hip.” You finally snap, to Kerry’s stunned silence. “You play stupid games and you win stupid prizes, Ally. If he had just listened to the rules he’d been given-"

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you right now," She says, voice sounding more shocked than angry, "Jigsaw took your eyes, put you through hell, and you’re defending him?”

“I’m not defending him,” you bite back, wondering if you are, “But Matthews was corrupt. You know that, even I know that. Sometimes, you get what you deserve."

There's a beat of silence over the phone line, and you wonder if you've taken it a step far. It almost surprises you, to hear the words coming from your mouth. A month ago, you wouldn't have believed you would feel this way, but it's true, isn't it?

Matthews had a way out, just like everyone else did. Just like you did. If he hadn't fucked around and found out, he would have been fine.

Your sympathy for the other Jigsaw victims- the other subjects- has become somewhat muted since you became one yourself. Being able to intuit all of their faults in high definition had only dulled it further.

“You think he deserved to be murdered, is that it?" Kerry asks, and if she wasn't angry before, she definitely is now. Thankfully, you know from experience that she tends to anger quickly, and cool off just as fast. "What about you, then? You got tested, too. How the hell can you say it's deserved?”

Because I deserved to be tested, too.

Something about the topic of conversation turning to you causes a vision to spring forward from the recesses of your mind, like it had simply been waiting for the most opportune moment to reveal itself.

You see yourself, standing in what appears to be a shallow pool of water in the middle of a dense forest. It is quiet and still, save for the ripples in the water caused by your movement. You can't hear any animals- the forest is silent.

You look exactly as you remember, save for a few key details- wide, white globes for eyes stare wildly back at you, and you are drenched in the water. You are soaked through and dripping, the water running down your forehead in rivets. On your head, twisted and gnarled, is a crown of some sort. At first, you think it's a crown of branches- fitting for the forest that you've found yourself in- but once you approach and look closer, you realize it's a crown of rusted, jutting metal pieces.

In your hands, you hold out a crumpled piece of paper, one you’ve somehow kept from dissolving in the water. Carefully, you take it from yourself and unfurl it, to see a wrinkled advertisement for a Jigsaw survivor support group.

Interesting. You file that piece of information away for later. Your lips are moving, but you can't hear the words. You lean in, trying to listen. It seems you're repeating something, over and over, mouthing along to an inaudible refrain.

“Hello?” Kerry's voice pulls you out of it.

“I'm sorry,” you reply. Any anger you'd been feeling is gone, shaken out of you, “My head's been all over the place."

"I know," She sighs as well, and you can feel her unspoken apology in return as she continues, "The FBI's getting involved. I've been in contact with one of their agents."

Immediately, you think back to your vision of the two dangerous people- the man and the woman.

"Damn," you remark, before you note, "He's a lot to deal with, isn't he?"

"That's putting it lightly," Kerry huffs, and you can feel her frustration not only at you, but at the FBI agents getting involved before she's been able to find Matthews herself. She feels embarrassed by it, the scrutiny and criticism only mounting the pressure she feels to find an answer, quickly.

"Tell me this," She asks then, weary, "Is everything going to be okay?"

There's a sinking in your stomach, but you lie to her, and say, "I think so."

Your words hand in the air, as if from a hangman's noose.

"Thanks," Kerry replies, and you're not sure if she believes you.

"Hey, Ally?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful out there. Keep your head on a swivel." You feel like you can hear the smile in her voice when she responds to you, though her tone remains grave.

"Always. You too."

---

[11:47AM - Outgoing] Did you know about the FBI getting involved in the Jigsaw case?

[11:48AM - Incoming] no.

[11:48AM - Incoming] fuck.

[11:50AM - Outgoing] That one isn't a vision either, straight from Allison

[11:51AM - Outgoing] But I've seen them, too.

[11:51AM - Outgoing] Two agents I think. They look like trouble.

[11:53AM - Incoming] thanks for the heads up

[11:54AM - Incoming] fbi... what a pain in the ass

[11:55AM - Outgoing] If they start poking around, it could be a lot worse than that

[11:55AM - Outgoing] Be careful

[11:59AM - Incoming] well how about that. you do care.

[11:59AM - Outgoing] Don't let it get to your head

---

The Jigsaw Survivor Support group meeting is held in a church basement. It's the first time you've been in a church for a long time, and the atmosphere feels weighty with the desperate prayers of its inhabitants.

Of course, there isn't an elevator. Down in the cool of the basement, a circle of chairs waits for you, and you get the sense that several men and women already seated when you arrive. Hushed voices quiet to silence as you approach, tapping your cane ahead of you.

"Oh! Hello!" A woman's voice calls out as you approach, nervous but excited. From her tone, you guess that she's an older woman. "You're new! Normally, Dr. Gordon would greet you, but he's actually away this week. He's the one who organized this group."

Doctor Gordon. Why did that name seem to strike a chord of familiarity with you?

You wince as someone takes your arm. You've learned that one major difference about being blind is that strangers are all too willing to touch you, now that they think they're being helpful.

You sure wish that they wouldn't.

The person who grabbed you by the arm leads you further into the room to a chair, "helping" you sit down. They seem a bit offended when you don't thank them, instead setting your cane beside the chair and folding your hands in your lap.

"So? What'd he take from you?" A male voice asks from across the circle, after you've settled into your seat.

"Take a guess," you reply dryly. No one in the room laughs, and you're not sure if it's better or worse that you can't actually see them all, staring and judging you. You clear your throat, and try again. "My ability to see."

"You don't need to talk about it, if you don't want to," the woman placates quickly, a note of admonishment in her tone. "Ned, you can't just ask the new people what was taken them-"

"It's okay," You interrupt, feeling surprisingly calm. Between the woman who had grabbed you, and the man who interrogated you, she had bothered you more than he had, "Not much throws me off, these days."

Reaching out with your senses, you survey the circle. A tangled mess of self-pity and loathing hits you, and you have to keep your lip from curling in a sneer of distaste. These are the survivors? You only get a hit off of one of them that doesn't repulse you- a reluctant, begrudging respect, an acknowledgement that he's made changes in his life that have improved things, since the game that he was in.

Feelings of ownership, control, responsibility- could the Jigsaw games really inspire them? Mostly, it just seemed to have traumatized these people-

These people, who were so miserable and desperate to begin with, their sins writhing inside the marrow of their bones. You have to free the sins, get the them out of the marrow to save them-

Your head throbs. The headaches have lessened considerably since you... refocused your senses, but they hadn't completely disappeared.

Briefly, you itch for a painkiller, but you ignore the craving as best as you can as you listen to each subject in the group introduce themselves.

The only name you fully register is that of the young man who you'd felt the sense of kinship with- Daniel Matthews. Hm. Isn't that ironic?

"I'm still processing everything," you say, after you introduce yourself. "But to be honest... I guess I have been seeing things in a different way."

"I'm sure you've learned to appreciate your life, and be grateful," you can hear the scowl in the man called Ned's voice. You have no idea what his test was, or how he survived, but you can hear the sarcasm in his tone- if someone here is grateful, it isn't him.

You consider the words seriously instead of taking the bait.

Had you?

"I've learned to appreciate the life that I have, rather than the one I used to wish I had," You say. You can feel the attention of the others burning on you, and it makes your skin crawl. Their judgment is like a heavy blanket over the room, and its almost suffocating. But still, the words pour out of you, too honest, too raw.

"I'm the only person who can do what I do, and the only person who can see the world from my perspective. Wishing and hoping for things to be different is pointless- it's pathetic."

No one says anything, so you continue, trying to explain further how you feel. Maybe you hope that you can convince someone here to see their game in a new light. Maybe you just need to say the words have have been stuck in your throat for so long.

"I am who I am. I'm the person I love and the person I hate. Good, bad. It doesn't really matter. I don't care anymore, and I'm so tired of making excuses for being myself."

The room sits in quiet silence, until finally, Daniel Matthews speaks up for the first time in the session.

"But do you know... who that is? Yourself?"

The version of you in your mind's eye- the version from the forest lake with the jagged metal crown- looks at you and grins with teeth.

Your words in response seem to be carried by an incoming chill.

"I think I'm figuring it out."

---

You're not sure what you expected, but a house in the suburbs is not it.

"I'm renovating it, so careful where you step," Mark says, leading you through the front door with a hand on your waist. "Would be a hell of a waste if you died tripping over a brick."

"Hey, you're not allowed to make fun of me for being blind," You reply back, without any real venom. His hand squeezes your waist, playful but dominant.

"Who said anything about you being blind? I was talking about your two left feet." You jab him in the side with your elbow, and he chuckles to himself, pulling you along with him.

It feels altogether domestic- far easier than it has any right to feel. You can imagine a life together, in this home. Taxes and fighting over chores and going on trips. Putting on music as the sun goes down, brewing coffee in the mornings as it rises. You allow yourself the indulgence of it, for just a moment.

The house smells like sawdust and paint, but there's a metallic undercurrent of blood. It's hard to tell if that scent is really there, or if it's just something your mind has picked up on, independent of your objective reality. Mark seems to lead you on forever, around too many corners to count.

There it is again, that sixth sense nagging at you. Something bad happened here. Something bad will happen here. Layers of pain, like the rings in the centre of a tree. You think back to Daniel Matthews, and his nervous, angry energy. So much like his father's, but still so different.

The coffin of glass swallows the target, but he doesn't know what it means. He thinks he is safe inside, but he is wrong. The walls are closing in on him, not his opponent, who is pulled through to the heavens. This isn't how its supposed to happen.

"Is this place a maze? What kind of architect designed this?" You mutter, as Mark stops walking and crouches down beside you. You tap your cane around, noticing a hollow sound ringing from part of the floor.

"Probably John. The layout's a nightmare. But the place is huge. It'll be nice, once its fixed up." Mark responds, and you hear a loud thud. "It's a trap door," he explains.

"Great," You reply, "Always a good sign."

Mark helps you through the trapdoor and down a ladder. Your tentative movements take time, but if he's annoyed by your slow pace, he doesn't complain. Once you're down the ladder, you reach out with your mind's eye, and survey your surroundings.

It is much colder, down here, somehow. Something bothers you about it, like an open sore in the back of the mouth.

"Hey, where are you going?"

You don't realize you're walking away until you hear Mark's voice, calling after you. Something is drawing you in like a beacon. It feels, suddenly, like you're on the cusp of completing something important, something you'd nearly forgotten about.

Drawn through the cold, damp, narrow tunnels, you somehow know instinctively which ways to turn. You don't trip, or run into walls, but keep moving, deeper into the dark. Until finally, you feel yourself stop in front of... something.

Reaching forward, you grasp the bars of a cell.

"Somewhere deep and dark. Low, inside the earth," you echo your words from weeks ago now, and hear a low, guttural groan in response.

Poor Eric Matthews, more animal than man by now.

"Yeah, he's not doing so great," Mark whispers in your ear, having followed after you. You get a brief flash of vision- Mark grabbing Eric by the hair, grown matted and shaggy, and dragging him back as he sobs and claws at the ground. Mark, punching him heavy in the stomach, throwing slop at his feet.

He hated it, at first. Then he grew to relish it.

Pure horror settles in you, uneasy in your stomach.

"Why... keep him?" You ask hollowly, feeling Mark's arm around your waist again, territorial.

"Kramer wants him for the next game," He replies, too quiet for Matthews to hear, "Needs him as an incentive. You know how bad the precinct wants to save him. Hell, it's why you're here in the first place."

"Is someone out there? Help me-" Matthews pleads, his voice broken, "P-please-" Your mouth is dry. You'd been brought in to save this man, and now here he was, begging for help in front of you.

"Huh. So he does remember how to speak," Mark mutters. Part of you wants to reach out, to comfort Matthews, to lie badly to him and tell him it will be alright.

But this is what it is. Open wounds, dirty basements, and pain like the refrain of a prayer. The maw of Hell itself. This is what it means, to be a part of this.

To be partners with Detective Mark Hoffman.

You jump in surprise at a sudden, loud clang- Mark has grabbed your cane, and slammed it against the rusted bars of the cell. You hear whimpering, as Eric Matthews seems to retreat. You take a few steps back, away from the cell, closing your eyes as if it will help.

"It gets easier," Mark tells you, "I know, I know. It's alright to be uncertain. Too feel sick about it. I was at first, too."

You swallow, and nod. He presses his lips to your temple, in a gentle gesture, and continues to soothe you with honeyed words.

"Don't worry. No one's going to find out. You and me, we do this together. We help each other. Right?"

You nod again, and he kisses you, on the lips this time. It's almost forceful, as though by the action alone, he can make you forget your conscience.

"Come on," He says, "Lemme show you the bathroom."

---

Although you've never set foot in this room before in your life, you feel as though you're returning back to a place you grew up in. It has an air of nostalgia about it that's almost uncanny, like a place you've dreamt about a million times, but can't quite map the layout of.

Frankly, it's kind of fucking creepy in here.

The smells of decaying bodies doesn't help. It's unmistakable, almost sweet in its rot, and you clasp a hand over your mouth as you grimace.

"You're renovating, but you couldn't take out the bodies?" You ask, fighting the urge to gag.

"Yeah, let me just carry them to my car," Mark snipes back, and you suppose he has a point. "I don't really come down here. But hey, do your thing." You hear the scrape of a chair, and wonder- is he pulling up a seat?

With a deep breath, you calm your nerves, and try to dial in to your extrasensory perception. The first task you'd been given- find Eric Matthews- has been completed. The second- find the secret apprentice- has not. That's your goal, and the reason you came here. You know that this place has the answers you seek. The walls bleed with them.

You sense Mark, somewhere behind you, curious and sharp. But you need to reach something older. Glass crunches under your boots, and you slowly pace the room, stepping carefully as not to trip over anything.

Then, you catch hold of something. Before you can understand what you're doing, you're crouching in front of one of the bodies, taking his bony, brittle face into your hands. The skin is like tissue paper under your touch.

"Oh, Adam," You murmur to him softly, "How unfair. He didn't follow his own rules for you, did he?"

"Are you... talking to the corpse?" Mark asks, an edge of disgust in his voice.

You ignore him. The corpse doesn't speak, of course, but he answers you in his own way.

"He promised," you hear your voice saying, an echo from a thousand miles away, "He promised he'd come back to save him. A Knight in shining armour. But he never did. He dies down here, missing his mother and wondering if he'll ever see her again. He dies over and over again. He exists as a ghost, haunting the third. The fourth? The secret one, the guilty one, the one who got away."

You hold the skull delicately, with a care not to disturb him. Of course, he's just a body. Just a shell. But before that-

You smell cigarette smoke, hear the click of a camera snapping a shot. Despair, fear, loneliness. Despondency, hope. Bitterness, so much resentment. A cell phone ringing, a hacksaw, tearing into flesh, pain, pain-

"Who was tested in here?" You ask Mark, letting go of the body and standing. The room spins around you, seems to pulse in the darkness. You get the impression of patterns, swirling about- the kind you can read and understand, that you can use to tell the future, if you just focus. You wipe your hands on your pants.

"That guy," Mark replies, presumably pointing to Adam, "We strung up another guy in here at one point. And Matthew's game ended up in here, with the kid and Amanda."

"Who was with Adam?" The answer is so close to you. For some reason, you think of the Jigsaw survivor group, and briefly wonder if the secret apprentice is Daniel Matthews. It partially seems to fit, but your intuition suggests that guess is off base.

"A doctor, I think. We planted his pen light. I think he ended up surviving. What the hell was his name...?" As Mark thinks, the answer comes to you, bold, in flashing neon lights.

"Doctor Gordon," you whisper. You ankle aches in confirmation.

"That was it," Mark replies, and then he pauses. "Him?"

"Him."

"You're sure?"

You see a blonde man, pale and sickly looking, crawling away as blood pours from the stump of his leg. It flows like paint spilling from an overturned tub, until the man presses it to a boiling pipe. Flesh melts and blood coagulates. He survives.

He survives. But he is alone. He has no one else but the ghosts, and the King, omnipotent in his wisdom, sees a subject in the making. A knight to stand guard, to protect the most valuable pieces. To save, when he could not save before.

"I'm sure," You reply, and you are. You hear Mark stand up from his seat.

"What now?" He asks, walking back over to you, "Do we...confront him? Ask Kramer about him?"

It's curious, you think, that he's asking for your opinion now. But you shake your head.

"No," You answer. You've never felt so sure of something in your life. The impressions of the patterns spell out hints to you, show a chessboard with its pieces, ready for play.

"No, we sit on this. We'll need him, later. We don't let anyone else know that we know," You say and you hear Mark make a small hum of contemplation.

"We'll need him?" He asks, a note of skepticism in his voice, and you nod.

"I don't know how yet. But I can feel it. Trust me on this?" You ask. He sighs.

"You haven't been wrong yet," He replies, and you smile at him in thanks. The pieces are coming into focus now, starting to settle into place. John Kramer has been lining up these dominoes for half a decade.

And you can sense what's coming. Your sight will be your survival. You catch the sound of a buzz, coming from where Mark stands.

"It's John. He wants to meet with you again, one-on-one," Mark says then, and you hazard a guess that he's looking at his phone. Does John Kramer know how to text?

"When?" You ask back. Your intuition tells you this will be important- that it might be the last time you see Kramer, face to face. He's a tyrant, his dark shadow looming over you and Mark, and you know in your soul that even when he's dead, that isn't going to change.

"Now. You ready?"

You hope that you are. You think of Eric Matthews, rotting in the dark; and Daniel Matthews, living in the day. You think of Adam, resigned to the depths to die alone, and Ned, who survived to scoff at the notion of gratitude.

It makes you sick, and not out of guilt.

A/N- A bit plot heavy, but since I actually know where this is going now, I'm actually laying down the building blocks for the end! Thank you for waiting, I'm a bit nervous about this chapter so if you liked it, please leave a review <3

TAG LIST: @icarusinstatic @honimello @haven-is-happy @karmaswitch @the-jester-calamity @teamhawkeye @thebrideofcaliban @mjrkime @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @mrs-hotforhoffman @aliengutzstuff

#mark hoffman #sawposting #slasher fic #costas mandylor #my writing #slasher x reader #detective hoffman #mark hoffman x oc #mark hoffman x reader #smut #psychicverse #saw franchise #saw movies #horror #reader insert #x reader #gn reader

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writer-komaru · 10 months

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₊˚✩｡+･ Queen of Hearts ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

✧Rating: Smut + Exhibitionism

✧Characters: Nikolai

✧Word Count: 3.2k

✧Summary: While participating in a very important annual agency meeting every member is forced to attend, you find yourself in a very stressful situation. You’re completely at the mercy of a very aroused and sadistic clown, one who’s ready to make your life as hard as possible. As sudden, familiar hands appear out of nowhere and start groping you from under your clothes, you soon find out just how hard he can make you~

The dreaded time was finally here. Once the clock struck 2:30, you watched as Kenji, Dazai, Kunikida, and Atsushi flooded into the meeting room. You closed your laptop and sighed to yourself. This would be your first real meeting as a new member of the esteemed armed detective agency and you were both excited and terrified. Being in a room full of some of the strongest gifted in all of Japan was more nerve racking than getting pulled over in the middle of nowhere! Nonetheless, you knew you were ready for this. You took a seat next to Junichiro and Kyoka, looking up at the white board in the center of the room pinned with at least 20 photos and newspaper clippings. Kunikida stood next to it with a long ruler in his hand, giving everyone an authoritative stare, like a teacher ready to scold a group of misbehaving students.

“For today’s annual group meeting, I’ll be starting it by addressing our most recent case!” His glasses flashed with determination as he cracked the ruler against the white board, using it to point at one of the pictures. Atsushi jumped at the noise, Dazai rolled his eyes, and Yosano rested her head against her left hand.

“The case deals with a large-scale human trafficking scandal being sponsored by the port mafia. We’ve managed to collect a few pictures, physical evidence, witness testimony, and a few newspaper clippings detailing some of the people involved. It’s our duty to locate the victims and ensure they return to their families safely and arrest the perpetrators. The first suspect is- Ranpo are you SLEEPING!!?!” Kunikida bears his teeth and slaps the ruler against the table to wake him up.

“I’d much rather be asleep than attending this boring meeting,” he raised his head and yawned, clearly unbothered by the threat of human trafficking. Does he not care about the people in danger or does he not see it as a big deal? Wasn’t he the detective prodigy the agency was built around?

“Maybe I’ll let you take a nap if you help us locate their base of operations,” Kunikida crossed his arms and huffed.

While you watched with confusion as Ranpo revealed a long explanation of the case, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Good thing you put it on silent; if all the attention was suddenly on you, you might just curl up in a ball and return to the soil. You took your phone out of your pocket and sneakily hid it under the table. You were getting a call from…. Your eyes widened in fear. Why now, if all times?!

“U-uh, can I use the bathroom real quick? It’s an emergency,” your trembling hand rose to ask the question, causing your fear of being in the spotlight to come true.

“I’m sorry but you should have gone before the meeting started. Rules are no one can leave until the meeting is over,” Kunikida’s wrath snapped to Dazai, “Including you too!!”

“Hey I haven't even done anything yet!” He held his hands up defensively.

“Yeah yeah, emphasis on YET!” He growled back.

Your worried eyes looked back to your phone, finger hovering between the accept and decline buttons. The caller ID pfp was almost taunting you. If you didn’t take this call, you knew damn well you’d be punished somehow, but if you took it, the private info being discussed could be leaked. You just couldn’t risk your relationship with the ADA so soon. With a heavy heart you hit the decline button, praying to your lucky stars he would shed even a sliver of mercy on you this time. Just before you could put your phone back into your pocket, an ominous text was sent to your phone; It was from him.

‘Playing hard to get, my darling dove? You know what happens when you try to ignore me~ come on, let’s have some fun together!~ Fwahahah!~♦️ See you soon! Your love, Nikolai~’

Well shit, now you’re definitely fucked. That’s what you get for testing the will of a deviant like him. You shifted nervously in your seat, anticipating the tricks he might try to experiment on you. Suddenly, you felt a light hand tap on your shoulder.

“Ah?!” You gasp, only to see it was Kyoka. She didn’t respond, only giving you a look that read, ‘Are you alright?’ It wasn’t a look she gave very many people, you’ve found out. You smiled and shared a nod, making her nod back. As your eyes returned to Kunikida as he continued his rant, a faint golden glow from under the table made your blood run cold. The glow expanded into a glittering swirl of sparkles, like a whirlpool of liquid sunshine. It was almost hypnotic. Out from the circle appeared a frighteningly familiar gloved hand, holding a singular playing card. What pentrified you was not the random floating hand coming out of what appeared to be a portal, but the details of the card. It meant two things. One, Nikolai was ready to play his sadistic little game with you. Two, you were both lucky and deeply misfortunate.

Nikolai was a very sly and cheeky character when it comes to you. He treats you both like a sweet pet he loves to pamper and play with, and like a little ragdoll he uses for when he gets bored. That’s just the price you have to pay for making a deal with the devil. And the word devil is no exaggeration. His little games he plays with you vary in extremes; he can go from playing fluffy games like tag (but he always cheats and uses his teleportation), tickle fights, riddles, hide and seek (which he also cheats on too), magic tricks, and dress up. To more explicit games like lewd cat and mouse, stamina tests, edging, exhibitionism, mind break, and seduction. To more dangerous games he uses as punishment, like knife play, gun play, public humiliation, choking, bondage, psychological abuse, somnophilia, and even roping his fellow angels of decay into torturing you. The memories make you shudder. He ties these levels of debauchery with a specific type of playing card. (I know all of this sounds unnecessary and extreme but that’s just his forte. He gets off on the chaos.) Diamonds mean he’s too busy to play an actual game but still wants to share his love with you. Spades mean he’s about to play a friendly game. Hearts mean he’s about to play an explicit game. And clubs means he’s about to play a dangerous game. Their numbers and houses signal the exact game and severity he’ll put you through, but there’s just no way you can memorize all 52 of them. Sometimes you think he comes up with them on the spot and pretends like he’s planned out the games from the start.

Nevertheless, the card held up proudly in between two fingers was a frightening Queen of hearts. You felt your thighs immediately rub together as a blanket of heat fell over your body. Oh, you were really in for it now. The card and the hand holding it vanished just as randomly as it appeared, triggering the calm before the storm. You wanted to run out of the room and hide, lock yourself in a bathroom stall and brace yourself for the torment he has planned for you. But not only was it likely someone would follow you, but you would probably get in deep trouble.

Shit shit shit…

Suddenly, the portal reappeared underneath your right leg and two fingers began to stroke your inner thigh, painting your skin in goosebumps. It was light and delicate, but calculated enough to send shockwaves straight to your heated core. You shivered as they inched closer to your bulge; making you embarrassingly cover the inappropriate sight with the hem of your loose tee. Trying to keep a poker face and ignore it was the only option you had at this point. But you know the clown has his ways to make you break.

“If we can station Kenji at the entrance of their base, we can distract the guards long enough to let the rest of us sneak in. Kyoka and Atsushi will search the halls and take out the rest of the guards, me and Junichiro will sneak into the bunker and look for the victims, Dazai and Y/N will secure the perimeter in case they call in backup. Any objections?” Kunikida ordered, slapping the ruler against his hand.

“Sounds great to me, but are you sure that’s alright with Y/N? He’s pretty neeewww~” Dazai glances over to you with a smirk. Oh how desperately you wanted to smack him for bringing the attention yet again back to you at literally the worst time possible.

“I believe Y/N is more than capable of handling their task. You on the other hand is a different story,” he grunted and crossed his arms again.

“Aw come on; I’m a trustworthy guy, Kunikida, you know that~” Dazai stuck out his tongue playfully.

“Settle down you two. Let Y/N speak,” Fukuzawa’s voice was like a growling lion, freezing the two men in place like icicles.

“Y-yes sir!” Kunikida exclaimed, bowing dramatically.

Dazai chuckled behind his hand, sending the blonde man a teasing smirk. Kunikida ignored him, focusing his eyes on your twitching form. He raised an eyebrow, “Are you alright, Y/N? You look like you caught a fever.”

“If it’s a fever… I can treat that easily~” Yosano chimed in, sharing an eerie grin.

You cleared your throat as both his hands began to stroke up and down your thighs, his fingertips ghosting over your plush skin in just the way to make your spine quiver, “I-I’m alright, just a bit nervous is all.”

“You don’t need to be nervous, I know you’ll do great, Y/N,” Atsushi smiles.

“And Dazai may seem like a lazy idiot, but as much as I hate to admit it, he’s a dependable ally,” Kunikida pushes up his glasses.

“You’ll…. Do okay,” Kyoka tries to comfort, but instead sounds a bit cold.

“Trust in your abilities and do your very best,” Junichiro uplifts.

“We have your back just like you have ours. We can do this together,” Kenji pumps a fist into the air.

Fukuzawa stays silent, but gives you a reassuring nod.

“T-thank you all. I feel a lot better n-ngh-“ your voice catches in your throat as the sinful fingers of Nikolai trace over your clothed sex, pressing small strokes from your twitching head. That bastard; you hated how he had arousing you down to an art form. Even from behind the portal, he could sense every hitch of your breath, tense of your thighs, and drop of sweat on your brow.

As the rest of the members continued to discuss the case, you let out a sigh of relief. At least they weren’t staring directly into your soul anymore. But the feeling was short lived as a pair of curious eyes stayed on you. The eyes of the master detective. You shivered in your seat; could he tell what was going on between your legs? The likelihood was alarmingly high. The only thing you could do was try to play it off as Nikolai pulled down your fly along with your boxers, letting your length spring free. It felt humiliating, how hard and wet you felt already, fighting back the urge to buck into anything that could give you some sort of stimulation.

“Ehehehhe~ what a naughty pet, being so deliciously horny during an important meeting~ I wonder how easy I bet it would be to coax out a little whimper from you~” a sadistic whisper echoed from the portal as two fingers squeezed and rubbed your head around between them. Before you could bite your lip, a groan escaped your lips. God damn it. You looked around fearfully if anyone heard that, mentally cursing at yourself for letting him get to you so easily. Thankfully, no one seemed to hear it.

“Oh ho ho!~ how delightful~” Nikolai chuckled through the portal, wrapping his hand around your dick and pumping it slowly, making your eyes screw shut. He made sure to give your head a few rubs with his thumb every so often just to stimulate you a little more. If things couldn’t get worse, you felt two fingers pressing right against your taint. Your legs trembled more and more, the temptation to buck into his hand becoming more of a guarantee than a fantasy. Was he really going to make you cum in front of the whole agency?!

Your hips lurched forward, ever so slightly fucking your aching dick into the tight grip of his hand, playing into the perverse little game he was putting you through. Suddenly, to your relief and dismay, his hands retreated back into the portals and disappeared.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re okay?” Junichiro asked with a concerned expression.

“Uh… it’s complicated,” you chuckled, scratching the back of your neck.

As Junichiro tried to push you for answers, the faint golden glow out of the corner of your eye told you Nikolai was clearly not willing to give up yet.

“Don’t worry, if it’s something serious, I’ll make sure to tell you- H-huh?!“ To your horror, your throbbing length is enveloped in a warm, wet, velvety feeling. You peeked under the table to find yourself face to face with Nikolai himself, fully taking your sex into the hot expanse of his mouth and bobbing his head up and down. The playful smirk he gave you made your blood boil with anger and arousal.

“Are you sure you’re alright…?” Jumichiro tilted his head curiously and tried to catch a glance of what you were looking at under the table. You quickly pushed Nikolai’s head off your dick and covered yourself with your shirt.

“Yeah, absolutely great. Perfect, even,” you hissed through your teeth. Junichiro gave you a shrug and turned back to the white board, leaving you to deal with the ruthless incubus under the table.

“Come on, let me get an actual taste this time~ you can’t avoid me forever~” his eyes narrowed as he smirked up at you.

“H-hey, w-wait- Ahh!~” a moan slips from your lips as his mouth slides back up and down your dick, making your whole body tremble.

“Please please, not here, please, not here,” you begged weakly, gripping his hair. You wanted to push his mouth off you again but to your surprise and his delight, you shoved your dick into the back of his throat, groaning as his tongue lapped at the bulging vein under your cock. There’s just no use trying to fight it anymore; you lost the very second you saw that dreadful queen of hearts.

“Good little dove… just give in; let them catch us, it’ll be more fun that way~” he cooed to you as your sex slid even further into his lewd mouth. It just felt so good, so wrong yet so right. The needy pulses of your cockhead against the back of his throat made your mind go blank. More, more, more; you just couldn’t stop craving more. Nikolai’s minaical chuckles grew louder and louder as you urgently humped against his mouth. As his free hand tucked back into his magic cloak, you felt a familiar firm rub against your taint. At that moment, you could care less if the room was empty or filled with 100 people. The only thought in your mind was to cum, to paint his mouth white with your built up seed. More more more, all you wanted was more.

“That’s right… Go wild… show your agency freinds how much fun we have together~” His words sounded like choking against the thrusting of your dick, transforming into a cackle as your head flew back to release a needy moan. Your dick throbbed wildly in his mouth and the knot in your stomach began to tighten, the humiliation sending tears pouring from your eyes. Everything was going exactly to Nikolai’s plan.

“Damn it… damn it damn it da-ahhh~ Aghhh!!~” One final convulsion of your head sent hot cum squirting directly down his throat, the leftover mess filling his mouth and dripping from his smirking lips. You let out a whine as come cum even splattered on his cheek. He licked it off with an evil smirk, just like the cock hungry whore he is.

“What a beautiful performance~ you did so well, my doll~” he crawled out from under the table and to your horror sat right on your lap.

“W-W-WAIT, they will see u-ughhh~” your eyes rolled back as he rubbed himself against your abused cock, giving out a series of strained whines.

“Look around, silly dove~ what do you see?”

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, licking a long stripe up your neck. When your blurry eyes adjusted to your surroundings, you realized the room was different. Instead of being greeted with the disgusted faces of your coworkers, you instead found the room totally empty. But how can that be? Did he use his portal on them? No, he would need to use his cape for that, but the whole time it was neatly resting on his shoulders.

“Stumped?~ I’d love to tease you more, but because you were so good in letting me torture you a little, I’ll reveal the secret~ it was all thanks to Junichiro and Ranpo!~” he exclaimed cheerfully, sending you a wink, “While you were too busy helping yourself to my warm mouth, Ranpo immediately knew what was happening. He passed Junichiro a note to use an illusion on the room to make it seem like everyone was still talking while they all left so we could have some free time together~”

Even though the news wasn’t exactly surprising, your cheeks still burned with embarrassment. You knew Ranpo would find out but god did it still suck.

You groaned and hid your face in your hands, “Why did you have to do that? I’ll never be able to look any of them in the eyes anymore…”

“Awww, dove, don’t be like that~ You were having so much fun weren’t you?~ Why not we… have a round two?~” he chuckles sinfully as he slides his striped pants down and lines himself over your oozing dick. He licks his lips as he slams himself down on you, panting and laughing as he rides the life out of you.

“N-no no no, ughhh n-nooo we’re gunna to get f-found aghhhh-a-again~” you whine as he uses your dick like a dildo. It felt really fucking good but dreadfully shameful. He slaps a hand over your drooling mouth and stares directly into your eyes.

“One more word out of you and I’ll edge you for two months,” he threatens, making your skin crawl. You knew damn well he meant it. All you can do is lay beneath him as he uses you for his pleasure, proving to you just how helpless you are when it comes to him. As a second orgasm builds in your lower stomach, you once again pray to whatever god there is out there everyone in the agency won’t hear you two thrusting against each other like animals in rut.

Curse that queen of hearts. ♥️

Reblog + Comment + Like if you’d like to see more Bungo Stray Dogs or Nikolai specific content! [And it just really helps me out :’)]

(I know this post is a few days before my supposed posting time buuuuut I’ve been having you guys wait long enough, so here’s early access!!~ Enjoy!!!)

#bungo stray dogs smut #bsd #bsd x reader #nikolai gogol x reader #bungo stray dogs nikolai #nikolai gogol #nikolai smut #nikolai x reader #bsd nikolai x reader #bsd nikolai gogol #he’s so silly #I love him #decay of angels #male reader #amab reader #spoilers kinda?#bungou stray dogs

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siconetribal · 1 month

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Put It On My Tab: Chapter 8

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali

Warning: Epiphanies, violence, crime fighting, and staffing issues

Summary:

Everyone deserves time off, and the vigilantes of Gotham are no exception to the rule. The boys decide to take a weekend to let loose. Who knew a few drinks would lead to a stranger in bed?

Author Note:

Sorry about the delay, I wasn't sure on where to go with the story for some time, and health problems started popping up more and more. Things are still hectic, but hopefully manageable.

Personal matters aside, I hope you all continue to enjoy. Thank you for all your support always.

A big shout-out to my friend who is a manager of a facility much like Citlalli. How you handle the various incidents that you do with such grace is inspiring.

A huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, here is a link to the other parts:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

It was moments like these that reminded him of the benefits of wearing his red helmet. The contents of his head remained intact and inside his skull at all times..

Holy shit, she was the barista at the counter! Red Hood quickly got back up onto his feet, bobbing to dodge a hook before grabbing the bigger guy's sleeve, yanking the guy forward to grab his head. A sickening crunch followed by a cry of pain was satisfaction to the vigilante’s ears. The lumbering giant fell to his knees, holding his face. “It wasn’t that bad,” he scoffed, waiting for his opponent to get back up. The clang of metal was all he heard before watching the crook fall face-first into the pavement. “Now that, that would be pretty bad.” He shrugged, looking up at Nightwing. “You know I had him, right?”

“Is that what you call being plowed into a brick wall? I swear, the lingo of the youth these days.” The elder Robin ran a gloved hand through his hair, looking down at the unconscious bodies littered around. “Two, four, I think that’s all of them.” He nudged his foot into the one on his right, watching the body roll over.

“Looks like it. Now we just gotta wrap ‘em up and drop ‘em off for the cops.” Red Hood motioned towards the street with his head. “I guess today wasn’t a total waste.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Dammit, I can’t believe I didn’t notice it sooner! This could’ve all been nicely packed and solved, stupid, stupid, stupid! He berated himself as they dragged the culprits to one of the nearby working lamp posts, tying them up. Clearly finding some Jane Doe of Gotham was not as easy as he thought, especially when he looked right at her and failed to realize it. His pride as a detective was bruised to a point that he was not sure if it would ever be restored. No way in hell I’m telling Grayson about that, I’ll really never hear the end of it. He glared at the guy with the broken nose. Once again, he was grateful that he wore a red helmet instead of a domino mask. His red cheeks and peeved expression was hidden to all except for himself as the two wrapped up for the evening.

Y/N lay crumpled and slouched on the old sofa of their apartment, exhausted and defeated. How many weeks had it been since all this started? How many more were left? She had just paid the first installment of the bill, a glorious moment, until she saw the damage to her bank account.

Life’s not fair, I get it, but this is cruel and unusual! She sighed for the umpteenth time, sinking into the old cushions a little deeper. He had to have noticed her, there was no way her attempts at anonymity were successful. Not to mention, he literally caught me falling! Ah, then there’s the stroke of genius Cici had. Really, a victim of Joker laughing gas? Now he’s really going to think I’m insane and refuse to pay! Then again, maybe he’ll pity me enough and actually pay? He did leave a sizable tip between the two of us. She forced herself to sit up straight and crossed her legs.

“No, get it together! You need to talk to him and explain the situation. I’m sure we can come to a reasonable conclusion through proper discourse! We’re both adults, and he clearly has a savior/hero complex because he did help me at the bar. I’m sure he can be reasoned with when he’s not inebriated or asking a billion questions.” She nodded to herself. “The real issue is how do I find him and prove I’m not some nut case?” Her pursed lips slid side to side as she tried to figure out a method to meet up with him again.

Citlalli had suggested she just turn up at Wayne manor or Wayne Enterprises. It was a tempting option, but with her luck, Y/N had a feeling she was going to be labeled as the new arm candy of the billionaire playboy and that was nothing but trouble. The last thing either of them needed was a horde of paparazzi hounding them or breaking into their rickety apartment and potentially breaking whatever they got their hands on.

Was Bruce Wayne handsome? Yes, there was no denying that. But handsome hardly scratched the “worth it” surface. Just look at where she was stuck now thanks to one of his adopted children. No, good looks did not make things worth it, like Citlalli always said. It only made matters worse. “And triple-y so when a Wayne was involved.” She muttered. “What if he never returns to the coffee shop? It’s been a whole month since then and nada!” She threw her hands up in frustration and slouched on the couch once more. “Doesn’t help that Arkham_Knight has been MIA, too! None of the quests are as fun without him. But he did say he’s going to be out of town or something about no gaming access. I wonder if kicking Wonder Boy’s butt is still on the table if he knew who he was.” It was so very tempting to just give in to the siren call, but she knew better than that. For starters, it would ruin the dynamic between the two of them and one or both of them would end up in jail for attacking a trust fund kid like him.

Her thoughts were broken by the clatter of her phone vibrating on the coffee table. Grabbing the device, she hit the green button on the outdated device. “Hey Cici, what’s up?”

“Hey chica, where are you right now?”

“At the apartment, sprouting on the couch like a potato, why?”

“Can you help me out, pretty please?” Y/N could hear the batting of her lashes through the phone.

“Hmmm, I dunno, I do have a pretty tight schedule between germination, wallowing in my financial crater, and staring out into the darkness.” Y/N tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear as she made her way into the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“Oh, woe is you, so busy.” Citlalli scoffed. “Anyway, I really need your help! I just got word that Ryan had asked Stacy to cover his shift and she agreed. Neither of them confirmed that he would be taking up her shift today, and he's saying that he asked her but never agreed to pick up from her. Yes, it's stupid, and I’m going to have to sit these over privileged brats down and explain to them how swapping shifts work again. But, that's not the point! I need someone in today and I thought you may want to pick up some hours to save up faster. Are you able to?”

“Yeah, ok, I’ll head in. Thanks for the chance, I really appreciate it. You don’t worry your little curly head about this and just enjoy the weekend away with your family. Send me any open shifts, and I’ll cover where I can, cool?”

“Miha, you’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much!” Citllali quickly dissolved into heaps of praises and prayers in Spanish out of sheer relief before she finally hung up the call and texted the information.

Another Saturday night shift left unmanned because why would they honor the hours they said they'd work? Not like I can complain though, I’m hitting overtime now and that means more money for me to get these payments over with. She made her way down the narrow hallway to her bedroom, quickly getting changed into a simple black tee and jeans, with the café apron tucked away into her backpack as she locked up behind herself.

The shift had started out busy, the store filled with students and professionals burning the night oil fueled by caffeine and pastries. But as the hours slowly ticked by, the number of in-store customers dwindled down alongside the drive-thru patrons. The moon was now up in place of the sun, and no one really dared to be out too late in this part of Gotham. Only the foolish and desperate, like herself, remained at work because the company insisted on a 24-hour shop to help spruce the town.

Did she want to be out here at night? No. Was being at home in the apartment alone any better? No. At least there was surveillance here. Any trouble that could happen would be recording, and she would be safe, sort of. Shrugging off self-preservation, Y/N began to sweep the floors to pass the time. It was better than standing at the counter waiting for no one to come in. It was another dead night, nothing serious was going to happen.

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khaleesiofalicante · 1 year

Text

MEMORANDUM FROM: J. C. HERONDALE, NEW YORK INSTITUTE TO: ALL INSTITUTE HEADS IN RE: HAIR

Greetings, fellow Shadowhunters, Downworlders, and in-the-know mundanes. Jace Lightwood Herondale here, your favorite Shadowhunter and three-time winner of the Golden Stele for Most Attractive and Sinewy Institute Head[1]. Recently it has been brought to my attention that I have been the victim of a terrible slander. I present this report today, to be sent in fire-message format to all Institute Heads worldwide: to correct the record, yes, but more importantly to provide a more thorough survey of the relevant information regarding the New York Institute and its main officers. I. SITUATION REPORT As you know, a schism has caused our homeland of Idris to be occupied by an insurgent, reactionary faction of Nephilim. This has severed the Clave’s ability to enter Idris and to engage in normal governmental operations. As a result, the New York Institute has become a much more central and important location than ever before. Not only are we now the home office of the Consul-in-Exile, the Headmaster of the Shadowhunter Academy-Also-in-Exile as well as the Warlock and Werewolf representatives to the Council, we are also the closest Institute to said Academy and therefore charged with its defense. As such, the interests of the New York Institute can be said to truly be commensurate with the interests of the Clave at large. II. THE SLANDER A most dire accusation has been made against me, and in doing so, it has impacted the morale of my Institute, which, as per §1, is of utmost importance at this precarious time in Shadowhunter history. Specifically, I have been accused of DYEING MY HAIR.

III. THE RESPONSE The accusation is, unfortunately, not more specific than this. It is unclear if the accuser means to suggest that I merely add artificial highlights to my hair, or that I use dye to alter its natural hue -- or much more dire allegations. That I, perhaps, actually use bleach to lighten my hair to the blond color for which it is famous across six continents, or even that I might have need to mask the appearance of early-onset gray hairs. Let me be clear: none of these have any basis in fact. My hair is and has only ever been its own natural shade and tone, inherited genuinely from my parents and untouched by any treatment or modification by magic or chemical. Its thick texture, gentle waves, and brilliant luster are merely the result of good fortune and a regular regimen of washing and conditioning. To suggest otherwise is to undermine the cause of the liberation of Idris and to weaken the resolve of our allies. A few, more given to conflict resolution than I, have tried to find a position of compromise, suggesting that it is possible that my hair has been positively affected by the experiments my father performed on me as an infant involving angel blood. It is true that I cannot fully rule out the possibility. But I strongly doubt it, and I believe you should as well, for one can find (through rigorous searching) hair that is nearly as superb as mine even among the mundane population, who obviously have not benefited from any such magics.

IV. RELEVANCE TO THE NEW YORK INSTITUTE AT LARGE While the slander has been directed solely at me, the other main representatives of the New York Institute are also aggrieved, and feel strongly that an attack on the hair of one of us is an attack on the hair of all of us. To that end, and at their request[2], I want to provide reassurances regarding the current status of the hair of all of us here. I hope that it will offer comfort and optimism in this dark time. I have provided a helpful letter grade for each of those mentioned here, using the standard measure where “S” is the highest grade, followed by A, B, C, D, F. My own hair will be used as the S-tier standard. CLARY FAIRCHILD If anyone on this list qualifies for the highest tier, it is of course Clary Fairchild, the co-head of the Institute and my constant beloved. Her hair is of the finest red color, shining gold in the light and flowing around her face in waves that only serve to highlight the natural blush of her cheeks and the freckles which so fetchingly decorate her face. To look upon Clary is to be reminded of the beauty given to us by the Angel; to run one’s hands through her hair is to weep with the beauty of this world. RANK: S SIMON LOVELACE Unfortunately, Clary’s parabatai’s hair has suffered greatly, perhaps the most of any of us, with the rupturing of the Clave. Out of sorrow and discontent he has, unwisely, been dedicating a significant portion of his time to his rock band, in which he plays the electric bass guitar alongside several mundanes (of no other consequence). Under the wretched influence of these mundanes, he has made an attempt at lightening his own hair to create an effect he described to me as “kinda punk and a little emo, but also not.” I cannot tell you what this is intended to mean: only that applying bleaching agents to his previously completely acceptable brown hair has turned it an unpleasant color which Clary has labeled “chromium green.” For the moment, he looks as though he has a dead snake on his head. Both Clary and Isabelle have volunteered to shave the green out of his hair entirely, but he has so far avoided their clippers and announced he will wait for it to grow out naturally. All of us here are looking forward to his full recovery in time; rest assured that, like the loss of Idris, Simon’s appalling appearance is only temporary. RANK: D (under normal circumstances: B). ISABELLE LIGHTWOOD As in all things, Isabelle Lightwood’s hair is immaculate and worthy of the great admiration it inspires. The contrast between her and Simon Lovelace is always quite striking, but never more so than now, as her appearance lights up each room she enters while his prompts questions about possible chemical spills and comparisons to a fictional mundane character known as “The Joker.” (Again, his situation is temporary, and we trust he will be restored to full strength soon.) When braided and set for battle, Isabelle’s hair inspires her allies and strikes fear into demons. RANK: S ALEC LIGHTWOOD Here we have a curious situation, it is true that Alec Lightwood’s hair is the parabatai to my own. As such, it is attractive, steadfast, brave, and rousing. Alas, while the hair itself is fine material, he simply WILL NOT TAKE CARE OF IT THE WAY I TELL HIM TO. No matter how many excellent products are gifted to him, no matter how many times he is lured into a fine salon with a promise that it is actually an arrow shop, the Consul continues to look as if he cuts his hair in the dark with nail scissors. And yet - allowances must be made. Our Consul struggles beneath a heavy burden of responsibility, by which I mean he has two children who constantly put gum in his hair. Considering all he has to face, I cannot but feel that the hair of Alec Lightwood is hair that one would not hesitate to follow into battle, which is what truly matters. RANK: A MAGNUS BANE At this moment in time, Magnus Bane, the Consul’s husband and warlock representative to the Council, has hair that cannot be achieved through mundane or even Shadowhunter means. Though largely black, it is shot through with flecks of gold, and at the tips it faded smoothly to an electric blue that closely resembles the color of his own magic. As always, Magnus takes a look that might not pass muster on a lesser man and makes it not only his own, but a target of envy from all around him. It is widely believed (though denied) that such an effect is what Simon Lovelace was hoping to attain in his recent unlucky tonsorial experiments. That the effect of his hair can only be created so perfectly with the use of magic does not diminish what Magnus manages to achieve here. RANK: A CHURCH THE CAT While the oddly long-lived cat known as Church is currently residing in the UK under the care of others, he was a longtime resident of this Institute and is still considered by most of us here as a kind of unofficial mascot. Recent photos have confirmed that, as befits a cat of the New York Institute, Church continues to have a fine, rich coat of the slate-blue color normally associated with his Persian breeding. Despite his usual bad temper, he is a fastidious groomer and keeps himself free of mats and unsightly tufts of shedding fur. His color is set off by his luminous gold eyes, which provide an excellent contrast. His coat presents an excellent picture when seen as a whole, but special consideration should be made to its greatest details, namely the slightly lighter color between his toes, and the tufts that rise from his owl-like ears. RANK: S V. CONCLUSION I hope that the thoroughness of the information contained here has brought reassurance and inspiration to all those who receive it. To sum up, my own hair has never been better, and remains entirely natural in its source. The state of the hair of the New York Institute is strong, and with the exception of a single mishap, which we are recovering from, we foresee only positive developments in the domain of our hair in the months and years to come. Yours in the Name of the Angel, Jace Herondale [1]This award was created by Clary Fairchild and is presented once a year on my birthday by a jury consisting of only the most discerning and aesthetically informed Nephilim available: specifically, Clary Fairchild. [2]Or at least, with only their mildest objection. Note: From Cassandra Clare’s newsletter on 01/04/2023.

#I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS #tmi gang #the mortal instruments #the shadowhunter chronicles #jace herondale #clace #alec lightwood #magnus bane #clary fairchild #isabelle lightwood #simon lovelace

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alonetimelover · 1 year

Text

Action! - part 5 - Social Media

Pairings: Director!Reader x Joseph Quinn (+ ex!Harry Styles)

Warnings: swearing, privacy invasion, victim blaming (two comments)

Summary: Privacy has been breached. More songs and albums were written. Halloween happened. Italy. Drama.

Side note: The villain in this fictional story is fictional.

check out the previous parts! part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

series masterlist

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ynupdates

♥️ 💬 ➤

liked by ynshands, harryupdates and 12 818 others

ynupdates the reviews are here! 'Don't Worry Darling' critic's score is 38% right now, and 'Bones And All' is at 87%! Overall, critics say that DWD lacks good pace and contains lots of plot holes. They do praise Florence for her performance and say Harry's accent changing is crucial to the plot - his acting although wavers from quite good to acceptable. 'Bones And All' however is gaining praise all over the world. YN is applauded for her directing, but even more for her acting. People call her 'the new sensation'. Timothée as always played beautifully.

im so happy for our yn being appreciated all over 💓

view all 3 818 comments

harryupdates i had the opportunity to watch DWD on its premiere in NYC and i do agree with critics. what's more IT IS NOT a film about female pleasure. literally there are two sex scenes and that's it.

ynsmybestie i feel like a proud mother 🤧

ynshands i smell two oscars for yn

harrysmoustache kinda disappointed that the dwd script was changed after yn's fiasco. it must have been decent if she considered it

⤷ harrysmylife nick kroll said the script changed almost entirely and that's when the confusion happened

joeandynfann yn is THE ARTIST of the 20s, im making rules

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harrysnonefan

♥️ 💬 ➤

liked by harrysmylife, user451 and others

harrysnonefan Harry's phone got hacked! pictures mostly of him and yn are all over the internet. this is the most appropriate one i could post.

view all 6 188 comments

harryupdates please delete the post, they got enough privacy invasion for months today. stop.

ynupdates delete it!

harrysmoustache i understand it's all over twitter, tiktok and ig, but you don't need to post about it. their privacy was invaded, those are VERY PRIVATE photos.

ynsmybestie i feel sorry for yn. she's getting so much hate for photos that clearly were taken by the two of them, not only her. point at the couple that has never taken any quite intimate photo, ill wait.

joemyman i hope yn has people close to her helping her deal with it healthy.

harrysmoustache i feel sorry for harry as well. lets not forget his privacy was invaded too.

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text messages between YN and Harry

Harry Styles

hello, yn. i just wanted to let you know that i have nothing to do with the leak that happened. the team is already working on solving it as soon as possible. im so sorry you need to deal with it, H.

yn🌻

why haven't you deleted them?

Harry Styles

I don't know, truly. i think i just forgot about them being on my icloud.

yn🌻

it's too late now, but please delete them anyway.

my manager will contact you soon about the statement that should be made and all that. goodbye, harry.

Harry Styles

i really am sorry, yn. i hope it didn't affect your relationship too much.

yn🌻

thank you for your concern, we'll manage.

Harry Styles

i'm sorry. i really am, YN.

read 10:24

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text messages between YN and Jeff

Jeffrey

i couldn't wait for your move forever, yn. i hope you appreciate the work those photos will do. they have the potential, don't they?

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celebrityupdates

♥️ 💬 ➤

liked by ynupdates, harryupdates, ynshands, harrysmoustache and 716 918 others

celebrityupdates !BREAKING NEWS! YN YSN is sueing Harry Styles' manager, Jeffrey A. for drastic invasion of privacy. Lawsuit was brought against Jeffrey this morning at the Los Angeles County Superior Court. At the moment the case is open to the public with YN's direct enquiry to stay this way. For more information head to our website.

view all 124 928 comments

ynupdates it was jeff's fault? oh my god. the situation got even sadder and more twisted now. I'm wondering if harry had anything to do with it... I hope not

harryupdates if he's responsible, i hope yn'll get all the money and justice

harrysmoustache he's sick. selling your friends and his girlfriends body for promotion??? #cancelljeff

ynsmybestie i feel so sorry for yn. i hope she'll get her justice. that's the least she can get after all the drama.

user617 i didn't need to know that

hater168 shouldn't have taken photos like that in the first place, could save ger money for the trial

⤷ ynshands she can do whatever she wants with her body. she can be photographed by someone if she wants. her body, her choice. if someone else is placing their hands on it, it's her right to sue them.

hater718 hope she's losing it

joemyman hopefully its going to be a quick trial. she went through enough the last couple of years.

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yourinstagram and harrystyles

♥️ 💬 ➤

liked by josephquinn, taylorswift, annetwist, beyonce, rihanna, tchalamet, florencepugh, ronniecoleman and 21 382 716 others

yourinstagram In the last few days you saw my previous partner's and my body without our permission. You also learned that I filled the lawsuit against my former manager, Jeffrey, because I believe and am ready to proof he is responsible for this invasion of privacy.

This lawsuit isn't only for us. It's for every person that got their body being used. For every person that had their photos leaked, being taken without permission, sold or used for promotion.

I believe in your story.

What is private should stay private.

YN and Harry

view all 615 939 comments

josephquinn You are the strongest woman I know. ❤️

florencepugh privacy isn't a choice, it's your right. you cannot take it away from us. my body my choice. #istandwithynandharry

tchalamet your bodies shouldn't be used against your will or without your permission #istandwithynandharry

taylorswift much love and strength for you both #istandwithynandharry

beyonce take what's yours, yn. 🤍

rihanna your body, your choice. 🤍

joekeery you deserve justice. #istandwithynandharry

annetwist 🤍

ronniecoleman #istandwithynandharry

ynupdates thank you for speaking up about something that people are quiet about! i hope you'll get justice #istandwithynandharry

harryupdates justice is yours. #istandwithynandharry

harrysmoustache joined post? couldn't predict that in my wildest dreams. #istandwithynandharry

ynshands take your money, girl! sue his ass! #istandwithynandharry

hater182 boring

hater168 shouldn't have taken photos like that in the first place, could save her money for the trial

⤷ yourinstagram Your concern about the way I'm using my money is astonishing. This case is worth every penny, if it can bring people like you to acknowledge the problem that invasion of privacy is.

⤷ yourinstagram I can photograph myself in every shape or form I want, it is not your body to decide. And it's my right to sue people that decides to use my body without permission.

⤷ ynshands and that's how you put haters in their place

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harryupdates

♥️ 💬 ➤

liked by ynupdates, harrysmoustache, ynsmybestie, hArrysbtch and 56 283 others

harryupdates Harry leaving the courthouse with his lawyer. YN and Joe were walking right behind him. THEY WON THE LAWSUIT!!!! Jeff is obligated to pay 3,6 mln $ in total for direct invasion of privacy. He is also not Harry's manager anymore, it is unknown who took his place.

I'm so happy it is over. I hope they, especially YN, will catch a breath to enjoy life without all this fuss.

view all 8 182 comments

ynupdates the way they needed just one hearing in the court. jeff really started something with a wrong person

ynshands im so happy for yn and harry. i hope that them winning the case will allow people in the similar situation to sue anyone that invaded their privacy

harrysmoustache thank god its over

ynsmybestie im so happy for them

joemyman i love how Joseph didn't leave yn even for a moment

⤷ ynshands right? also she was grasping his hand so tight, poor baby was soo nervous 😓

⤷ harryupdates did you see how harry was trying to discreetly observe them?

⤷ ynshands I did! but it was so obvious. he was literally glaring at them. the sad smile said it all

⤷ harryupdates he really is still in love with her

user383 only if all the cases were solved this quickly...

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ynshands

♥️ 💬 ➤

liked by ynupdates, harrysmoustache and 12 829 others

ynshands Matty Healy said that Harry wrote a few songs for 'the 1975' newest album. Those songs are: About You, Human Too, Happiness and All I Need To Hear. 'One day I got a message from the number I've never thought I would hear from. Harry fuckin' Styles was it, saying he had some songs that could work for us. We used every single one.' said Matty in the interview. Similar situation happened to Lewis Capaldi, 'Well I was drunk and sent Harry - I mean Harry Styles a DM, a video of something. (..) All in all, he screenshotted it and then randomly asked if I was interested in hearing a song he wrote. Forget Me is all written by him, I just changed the melody because Elton John told me to.'

harry wrote five songs about yn and decided to give them away instead of using in the next album???

view all 3 292 comments

ynupdates she is the muse

ynsmybestie i imagine it's nice having songs being written about you, but if it's your ex? i don't know.

⤷ harrysmoustache well, he's writing about her beautifully

⤷ harrysmoustache 'there was something 'bout you that now I can't remember; it's the same damn thing that made my heart surrender' in About You made me ugly cry

⤷ ynsmymama what about 'I don't care if your insincere; just tell me what I want to hear; you know where to find me; the place where we lived all those years' in All I Need To Hear? even writing this made me cry. the whole song is just heartbreaking 💔

⤷ harrysbtch and in Happiness there are a few like: 'she showed me what a love is' and 'I would go blind just to see you' and 'I'd go too far just to have you near' and 'her body's like a modern art; take it out in front of me' and 'I'm never gonna love again' .... like im dancing but my cheeks are wet

⤷ ynsmymama i just relistened to the album and Human Too is like his apology and at the same time his excuse of what he did in their relationship... he's not going to stop writing about her, that's for sure.

harryupdtaes the lewis' story??? he's so funny

⤷ harrysbtch but the song? heartbreak anthem once again

harrysbtch the whole chorus to Forget Me has me in tears

harrysgrammy songwriter harry has entered the chat

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taylorswift

♥️ 💬 ➤

liked by yourinstagram, josephquinn, ynupdates, harrysupdates and 10 292 193 others

taylorswift Midnights, the stories of 13 sleepless nights scattered throughout YN's and my life, will be out October 21. Meet us at midnight.

view all 217 293 comments

yourinstagram it was an honour working with you. thank you for putting my words into this astonishing album. 🌃

⤷ taylorswift are you kidding me? you're the star here.

josephquinn 💜

ynupdates yn singing??? name one thing she cannot do

ynshands she directs, acts, writes, sings, what's next?? she's fucking amazing, I love her

ynsmybestie apple music released the song titles and writing credits and im sorry but yn wrote lavender haze, sweet nothing, vigilante shit and mastermind BY HERSELF? with having credits on each song??? songwriter yn era is here, and im so ready for it

⤷ ynsmymama i haven's heard the album but i know, I KNOW it's gonna be my favourite just because yn wrote most of it

harrysmoustache maybe she wrote a track about harry?? we could possibly get her point of view for the whole relationship or drama

⤷ taylors22 if you want songs about yn and harry then listen to evermore. willow, champagne problems, gold rush, 'tis the damn season, tolerate it, happiness, coney Island, closure, evermore, it's time to go. they all are rumoured to be about yn and harry. someone did a video on it, you should look it up on yt. it's worth it.

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harrysmoustache

♥️ 💬 ➤

liked by ynupdates, harryshoee, harryupdates, ynsmybestie and 9 292 others

harrysmoustache FIRST LOOK AT HARRY AS DANNY ZUKO FOR THIS YEAR'S HARRYWEEN!!

YN AND JOE RECREATED THIS SCENE FROM DIRTY DANCING AS JONNY AND BABY via YN's IG story.

that video made me really 🥵

view all 1 293 comments

ynupdates harry really said 'im gonna make her my whole personality'

ynupdates yn and joe are looking divine 🔥

harryupdates he sang hopelessly devoted to you

⤷ ynshands isn't that yn's favourite song from grease?

⤷ ynsmybestie nope! she loves 'you're the one that I want'

joemyman they are the perfect couple. they won this year.

harrysbtch i worry for harry. everything he does is somehow, more or less, connected to yn. it's getting unhealthy

⤷ ynshands i hope he'll find someone to make him happy again. its sad watching him be so attached to yn.

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2023

joemyman

♥️ 💬 ➤

liked by ynupdates, ynshands, harrysmoustache and 9 282 others

joemyman OMGHSJEDJKD guys!!!! I met Joseph and YN in Italy tonight!!! look how good this man looks

view all 3 399 comments

ynshands spill the tea, lola!

⤷ joemyman I was at the restaurant for my birthday and when the waiter brought the cake my friends started singing. In the middle of the song I saw YN and Joe walking past our table, holding hands and being all cute. Immediately we stopped singing and stared at them with amazement.

⤷ joemyman If that wasn't enough, YN turned around and walked up to us, with Joe right after her (hand on her waist and shoulder) and wished me a happy birthday in italian! Joe then did the same. Later she sent our table the poshest dessert available on the menu.

⤷ ynshands OMG! that's so sweet of them

⤷ joemyman yes! and also after we finished celebrating, yn and joe finished their diner. i found a courage to walk up to them, thank them and ask for a photo. they were super chill but kindly refused a join photo (what was totally fine, YN looked super tired). we took a video of joseph speaking italian with yn laughing in the background, and that's a screenshot of it

ynupdates so good to see them again. it's been a minute since we saw them last

⤷ harrysbtch there wasn't anything after the halloween last year

⤷ ynupdates i mean yn won two oscars earlier this year, but didn't show up at the ceremony

⤷ ynandjoeforever i'm a new fan, can you tell me what she won the oscars for?

⤷ ynupdates sure! last year she directed and starred in a movie called 'Bones And All' with Timothée Chalamet. She won the Best Leading Actress and the Best Director. Timothée also won the Best Actor.

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celebritygossip

♥️ 💬 ➤

liked by ynupdtaes, ynsmybestie, harryupdates, harrysmoustache and 384 927 others

celebritygossip EXCLUSIVE photos of YN YSN pregnant on the beach in Italy. For the last six months YN and her boyfriend, actor Joseph Quinn has been living in Italy, staying away from Hollywood gossip. Last January YN won two academy awards for directing and starring in a movie 'Bones And All' but didn't accept them in person. Was being pregnant a reason to skip the gala? For more photos head to our website, link in bio.

view all 47 938 comments

ynupdates 'YN and Joseph on the private beach in Italy' says the caption under this photo on your page. If it's a private beach then it means you broke the law by having taken those photos, invading their privacy. Once again...

ynsmybestie oh man, you're next to be sued by YN for invasion of privacy. hope you have enough money for that 💰

harryupdates they went away to have some peace and quiet and here you are with those photos... smh

user382 how long have they been together?

⤷ joemyman almost 2 years

⤷ user829 so she was with styles more years and couldn't be pregnant?

⤷ joemyman it's not your business.

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yourinstagram

♥️ 💬 ➤

liked by josephquinn, florencepugh, tchalamet, taylorswift, joekeery, milliebobbybrown and 47 738 728 others

yourinstagram baby quinn says hi

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josephquinn what a beautiful baby mama 🤰

florencepugh hi baby quinn! 👶 auntie florence's gonna spoil you rotten

⤷ yourinstagram joseph just put the crib together. you outdid yourself, flo ❤️

tchalamet my godchild has the best parents in the world

⤷ ynshands stop... timothée is going to be a godfather???

ynsmybestie timothée knows he's got no chance anymore

⤷ tchalamet she's gonna be my crush forever, ain't no other way

⤷ yourinstagram stop it, timmy

⤷ josephquinn yeah, stop it, TiMmY

taylorswift i'm writing you lullabies, baby

⤷ yourinstagram please record 'em. baby already loves your voice.

joekerry hello, baby joe

⤷ yourinstagram i'm not naming my baby after you

⤷ josephquinn that's my name too...

⤷ yourinstagram your name is dada, i don't know what you're talking about, mate

annetwist Congratulations to you two, darling! ❤️

⤷ yourinstagram thank you, Annie!

milliebobbybrown see you soon, baby quinn! 🤴

ynupdates congratulations darlings!

harryupdates so so so happy for you both!

ynshands she probably wouldn't have posted the photo if that gossip page hadn't invaded their privacy... yn can't get a break from paps

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joemyman a baby with genes from yn and joe??

⤷ ynsmybestie imagine the baby has joe's big eyes and yn's hair

⤷ joemyman the most beautiful baby in the world

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text messages between YN and Harry

Harry Styles

Congratulations on your pregnancy, YN. Hoping the baby and you are healthy, H.

yn🌻

thank you, Harry. we're feeling great, baby's healthy.

annie's said you took a break, how is it going?

Harry Styles

You don't need to talk to me if you don't want. I understand. Just wanted to congratulate you after mum told me about your pregnancy

yn🌻

i think i'm mature enough to put the past in the past. also anne is seemingly worried about you, harry.

but if you don't feel comfortable yet, then it's okay. thank you again for the message. hope you are well.

read 4:67 pm

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vogue

♥️ 💬 ➤

liked by yourinstagram, josephquinn, florencepugh, ynshands, harryupdates and 2 938 028 others

vogue 'I was always infatuated with motherhood and the beauty that mother love is. Being pregnant just deepened my understanding of those emotions,' says our August cover star, YN YSN. To get to know YN more, her past and future, and her anticipating projects - head to your local stores and buy VogueMagazine August issue.

The sneak peak of the article is available on our website, link in bio.

photography: josephquinn styling, hair and makeup: yourinstagram

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yourinstagram thank you katiesmith for this interview!

ynupdates 'Joseph is everything I could ask for in a partner. He's caring and loving, a good cook which is crucial while being pregnant. He's also very patient with me from the very beginning of our relationship.' the way she describes him is just so lovely

ynshands 'He's a kind hearted, tender man. He thought me a lot, and I'm grateful for having shared a part of my life with him. I only could wish him the best, he just deserves it.' YN talking about Harry. she has nothing but good things to say, despite everything she went through because of that relationship.

harrysmoustache 'It's part of a process, I understand it. Harry's an artist and that's how he deals with live, by writing about it. I found it therapeutic too, and somehow Taylor [Swift] put my rubbish on her album Evermore' she confirmed evermore guys, SHE CONFIRMED IT. also it's not rubbish, babes. its a masterpiece.

florencepugh sexy mama 🔥

joemyman 'I wasn't planning on announcing my pregnancy and that's why we moved to Italy earlier this year. I wanted something to be just my partner's and mine. Joseph was doing everything he could to protect us, and I am so grateful for him and his involvement. If not that one photographer, we'd still be in Italy, having pasta for breakfast.' we were right girlies, she didn't want people to know

⤷ ynsmybestie what about the next part?? 'No, I didn't sue them. I had had enough the last time I was in court. The stress it caused then would be bad for a baby, which is my first priority right now. Joseph, however did report that incident. I remember hearing him say 'I won't allow them to put you through it again, there's no way' and that felt like the quiet 'I love you' he whispers to me every night.' im- 😭

⤷ joemyman i know, man. joseph is just perfect, so protective and loving, couldn't ask more for our yn

⤷ ynsmymama i love how we simply adopted yn, even though she's probably older than all of us

harrysbtch but did you guys see that shade she threw on WB???💀 'I heard about Henry returning as SuperMan, yes. Am I going to direct him? No. I'm keeping my distance from WB. And also the only superhero film I see myself directing is The Amazing Spiderman 3 with Andrew Garfield.' her crush on Andrew is still there

⤷ ynshands i respect her decision. WB did her dirty with DWD and it really started all the drama she's been through

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josephquinn