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bandgie · 3 months ago

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The Move-In | Ep. 1

MASTERLIST | KINK: THROATFUCKING

🗝 Cheap rent seems great until you're discovering bugs, dirty water, and learning about the strange disappearances that seem to take place at the apartments. Whatever, at least you have the bed to break into it.

5.1k words

warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, PIV, no protection, creampie, facefucking/throatfucking, tit play, cum play, cum swapping, 3some, 'daddy' use, slight asphyxiation, reader called bitch a few times, kinda long sowwy

notes! so yayyy this is the first fic of the halloween event! there's gonna be world-building and info dumping in this ep, so it's gonna be a little long. thank you <3

Why the owners decided to paint it pink is a mystery. The color doesn’t match the surroundings in the slightest. Flowers and grass seem to brown and the air has a permanent chill that makes you snuggle into your sweater. But the sky, which you’re so used to seeing bright and blue, is a depressing gray.

As the car pulls into the driveway, you can see the paint chipping. Your nose scrunches as though you’ve smelled something foul. “This house is…old.”

“It’s not a house.” Chan puts the car in park. “They’re apartments. But yeah, the owner said it’s almost 200 years old.”

Changbin squirms in the passenger seat. You can see his eyes darting from the house to the dead plants from the review window. “Fuck. There’s gotta be ghosts in there.”

Despite the goosebumps you get from the thought, you laugh. “Maybe they were keeping the house warm for us.”

Chan snickers at Changbin’s cries. He kills the engine and unlocks the doors while Changbin’s worries die in the wind. You’re still giggling when you get out, hoping the uneasiness will wither away soon. But as you stand before the apartments, small and cold, you feel…powerless.

Almost like something much larger lurks between the floorboards.

You didn’t even hear Chan’s footsteps. The crunch of the dead leaves goes unheard before he finally says, “Creepy as shit, huh?”

He laughs when you jump. The dimples on his cheeks deepen, “Are you really that freaked out?”

Lying isn’t even possible. You can feel your heart thudding in your chest and your cheeks heat up from the burst of adrenaline Chan caused you. “Living in an apartment that looks like it’ll collapse any second on a haunted hill? I think that would scare anyone.”

“You really believe that haunted bullshit?”

“It’s not bullshit.” You narrow your eyes at him. “Those people really did go missing. No bodies, no signs of force, nothing. Just, poof, into thin air. Like they never existed.”

“Yah! Stop it!” Changbin covers his ears. He still hasn’t left the car’s side. “I don’t wanna hear it again!”

You turn and give him an apologetic look, “Sorry.” But Chan is already groaning. “You told him?”

“I didn’t think he’d get that scared.” You put your hands up in defense, but truthfully, you knew. Seeing Changbin’s wide eyes and fearful babbling would make Chan’s reprimands worth it.

“Changbin is scared of everything! He didn’t wanna move here after seeing the pictures. Just the pictures.” Despite his huffing, Chan can’t hide his grin. “You know he’s gonna want to sleep in your bed tonight, right?”

You raise an eyebrow. Living with two men who happen to be your best friends, that’s more than a common occurrence. “Someone sounds jealous.”

Chan pokes his tongue through his cheek, a gesture he does when he’s flustered and excited. He shrugs, “No comment.”

The sound of a running engine makes you two turn. Changbin jumps and hurries to your side, clutching onto your arm as if you have half the muscles he does. You three spot the trucking climbing the driveway within seconds.

“The movers are here.” Chan takes a few steps forward. “Bin, let's help them unload, yeah?”

He groans. Changbin lays his head on your shoulder and looks up at you prettily, batting his eyelashes. “You gonna be okay without me?”

You giggle. “I should be asking you that. Go get to work big boy. I’ll explore the house.”

“The apartment.”

“The apartment.” You repeat, glancing at Chan to roll your eyes. “Same shit. Have fun.”

They say a small ‘you too’ and walk to the now parked truck, backs turned. You spin on your heel, giving a long look to The Pink Palace in front. The house looms over as if daring you to enter alone. The best response you can come up with is to squint, turn your chin up, and think, I’m not scared.

But goosebumps arise when the floorboards creak and the door hinges squeak with laughter. You remind yourself more than once that living here will save your wallet. Looking for a job straight out of college is nearly impossible. You were lucky enough to live with Chan and Changbin, but they were struggling themselves as upcoming music producers.

It seemed like a no-brainer to move out of the city and get someplace cheap. When Chan found the perfect place, you heard alarms go off hearing the low price.

And of course, you had to do some of your own research.

Five men in the span of 50 years were reported missing while living here. Not just runaways or kidnapped, but gone. All their belongings were left, no footsteps or doors were found unlocked, and the owner coincidently decided to close off the top and bottom levels of the apartments.

Exactly where the missing people once lived.

Maybe they were still there. Still here. Their bodies becoming nothing more than skin-on-bones for the mice to feast upon.

Or what if they escaped, but lived in the walls? Old and wrinkled men who could never be a part of civilization again. What if you woke up in the middle of the night and looked through the crack of your closet to see-

Stop. Stopstopstop. You’re freaking yourself out. You can’t even focus on the obnoxiously large rooms and spiraling staircase with your thoughts turning horrid. It’d be better to do something productive while your roommates and the movers unload.

You pull your phone out and open the notes app, quickly creating an empty note and titling it ‘Windows and Doors.’

“Okay, so there’s a total of 21 windows in this apartment alone. Isn’t that insane?”

Chan hums, nodding mindlessly while helping Changbin move the fridge inside. Changbin doesn’t even respond. His focus is on making sure his clammy hands don't let the appliance slip.

“I mean they look cool. But damn, someone could be peeking in at any time. We need to buy curtains.”

The veins on your friend’s neck look like they might burst. Chan lets out a drawled moan when the refrigerator gently sets on the floor. He huffs and groans, turning up to the ceiling in an attempt to catch his breath. Changbin doesn’t look any better. He leans on the fridge and pants.

“My arms are dead.”

“Oh shit. Did you guys need help?” It dawns on you that yapping is the last thing they want to hear. The sun is nearly down now and despite the boxers being scattered, at least everything is inside the apartment.

Changbin shakes his head. “No, this is the last of it. We don’t want your pretty hands getting dirty.”

You roll your eyes, a small grin on your lips. “Whatever. I’ll help unpack tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” Chan dusts his hands on his pants. “But uh, 20 windows?”

“Twenty-one. And 14 doors. There’s a tiny one in the living room, but it doesn’t open. So technically it’s 13.” You recall the crawl space covered by wallpaper. It was barely big enough for you to fit in, but it piqued your interest anyway. “It needs a key.”

Chan nods, but the distant look in his eyes tells you he isn’t listening. Instead, he looks around aimlessly. “I could have sworn I put my water bottle somewhere.”

“Ah,” Changbin snaps his fingers. “I put it in the cupboards. Hang on.” He walks to the center of the kitchen, pulling the cabinets and frames open until he finds what he needs. But when his head cocks to the side and his lips purse, you think it’s something else.

“Yah, didn’t you say you needed a key or something?”

He tosses a long, black object in the air for you to catch, which you surprisingly do. Changbin keeps rummages for the water bottle as you inspect the key.

It’s heavier than you expected, pure metal you think. The handle, though, is what catches your attention most. A black button acts as the bow, four dots in the shape of a diamond.

“Thanks, man.” Chan’s voice brings you to attention. He nods to you, “Is that the key you were talking about?”

You watch as he downs the drink. Chan’s throat bobs with each gulp, sweat dripping down his neck that disappears under the black material of his shirt. He hands the bottle to Changbin who does the same thing, the only difference being that droplets miss his mouth and a pink tongue swipes the water from his wet lips.

When was the last time you three boned?

“Y-yeah. I think so, I mean. Only one way to find out.”

The men follow you to the living room, lunging over boxers and planning how to set up the room while you ignore the painting of the sad boy and his fallen ice cream above the fireplace. The artwork doesn’t sit right with you.

When you bend down to get leveled with the blocked door, Changbin whistles. “Nice ass.”

Your face heats up and Chan laughs at your playful scowl. Changbin’s lips are turned upside down and as endearing as he looks, you’re the one to sour his mood.

“When I open this door, I hope the monster on the other side eats you first.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh when his gleeful expression turns worried. His anxious rambling only increases when you shove the key through the wallpaper. You turn it until you hear a certain click. Prying it open is easy enough, but you’re disappointed to see brownish-red filling your vision.

“Bricks? That’s it?”

Changbin visibly sighs in relief. He looks at Chan who seems somewhat disappointed. Still, it’s nothing compared to you who was exploring the house for what seemed like hours.

“They probably boarded it up once they sectioned off the house. It must have led to the lower level.” Chan reasons. “It’s better this way. There might be mice down there or something.”

Changbin swears. “Now you guys are fucking with me on purpose. How do you want me to sleep in a place that’s haunted and has mice?”

You fully expect Chan to laugh or shrug him off, but he groans with annoyance. “Shit. I totally forgot about the bed frames. We’re gonna have to sleep on mattresses before we can set them up.”

His irritation rolls off in waves. You can only imagine how he feels, taking the responsibility to find a place to live, and when he does, all his roommates do is complain. Then, driving to the outskirts of a dull town and unloading for hours only to sleep on the floor.

You stand, looping your arm around his waist and Changbin’s. “It’s okay! We can have a sleepover tonight. Let’s stress about it in the morning.”

Chan gives you an appreciative smile, wrapping his arm around your torso just like Changbin is doing now. They always feel like they complete you. Their warmth, their hands, their tender gaze - it’s all a part of you now.

You pull from their grip when their hands start roaming and run down the hall for the stairs. You take your shirt off in haste to leave it on the bottom step. “Race ‘ya to the room!”

Maybe it would have been better if you knew what room you were going to, but the one furthest down the hall called to you. You could hear the boys ruffling downstairs, thuds and bumps told you they were not far behind.

And when you found the room, a built-in closet on the left and a window seat in the center, you mentally called dibs. A bare mattress was in the middle and you unclasped the last article of clothing to toss it on the floor.

There was barely enough time to lay on the bed when they burst through the door. Changbin came into view first, his pupils blown and lips wet like he was drooling the entire time he ran.

“Ha! I won!”

“He cheated!” Chan points an accusatory finger at his rival. “He pushed me into the wall!”

Their banter should make you laugh, but you’re distracted to see them completely naked. They must have copied you and thrown their clothes around the house during the chase. Changbin’s pecs are full and flushed, his tummy soft and expanding with each heavy inhale and playful shout. Chan’s ears are tinted with pink to match his broad chest. Deep lines etch into his stomach with every laugh and exhale.

But their cocks, one thicker and the other longer, both dribble at the tip.

Just the sight of them makes your cunt clench. You unashamedly widen your legs and use a thumb to slide against your folds. “Well…I didn’t say anything about not cheating.” The men stop their bickering when they catch you. All attention zooms in on how your digit flicks your clit, dipping lower to gather the leaks of arousal to smear across.

“So I guess we have a winner.”

Changbin nearly trips over his own feet getting to you. The eagerness in his eyes and the swelling of his cock, they’re all proof that it has been a long time since you three played.

Rather than diving into your pussy like he normally would, Changbin nearly touches his nose with yours. His eyes bat innocently, gleam hopefully, and his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. Ah. You know what he’s asking for.

“You can be rough, baby. I won’t break.”

The real wonder is what he’ll be rough with. Changbin is all too excited when climbs onto the mattress and beckons Chan over. You feel sturdy fingers dig into your side, and although you have no idea what Changbin wants to play with, Chan seems to know.

He holds you while Changbin rests his back against the wall, his toes wiggling with anticipation. You can already see his cock leaking and pooling pre-cum on his pubes. Salvia gathers in your mouth and you swallow thickly.

You hope it’s what you’re thinking.

Chan doesn’t have to move you too much to get your mouth hovering over Changbin’s cock. You’re already aching to feel it in your throat that he doesn’t have to push you down. The only thing he has to do is bunch your hair into his fist to make sure no strands get in your way.

A pretty vein runs along the side of Changbin’s cock that you follow with your tongue. You follow it to his tip, gently wrapping around it with your soft lips and hollowing your cheeks to suck. You can taste the sweat from earlier in the day when you swirl your tongue. His natural musk makes your mouth salivate more as if you aren’t already slobbering.

You’re used to him giving you time to adjust. The thickness always makes the sides of your mouth stretch. Though it feels almost uncomfortable, you can’t help but like the drool that leaks from your mouth every time you widen your jaw.

Another inch makes its way past your lips before Chan’s hand in your hair tightens and shoves you down.

Changbin’s tip presses against your throat, the salty taste much more prominent. His hair touches your nose and before you even think about how it tickles, Chan pulls you up just before it slips out to bring you back down again.

“Ohhh. Like that! Just like that. Binnie likes it.” He sounds adorable. Like you aren’t getting your throat fucked with someone else controlling the pace.

Chan doesn’t ease up at all. Maybe it’s Changbin’s moans and babbling praises that egg him on, but the pressure on your scalp turns into pleasure. The yanks and tugs go straight to your core. Chan must be able to see how your cunt starts to drool, but he doesn’t say a peep.

You have to lay your tongue flat on your bottom teeth so they don't accidentally graze Changbin. You’re trying your best to keep your jaw loose while managing to suck, but the need for air burns your chest.

“Harder. Suck me harder, baby.”

But you can’t. You’re trying to ignore the way your head fuzzies from lack of oxygen and darkness surrounds your sight, but you can only manage for so long. Your nails dig into Changbin’s thighs painfully instead.

He nods quickly. “Up.”

Chan pulls you from his cock fully. A string of saliva keeps you connected, but your coughs and gasps break it easily. Tears blur your vision and a few slip out, but Changbin is already wiping them.

“Too much?” Chan sounds cold. “We just started.”

“I just,” you blink rapidly. “I just need a second.”

But Changbin doesn’t nod understandingly. He doesn’t even give you a sympathetic pout like he always does. He looks to Chan who gently guides you back down, using his free hand to arch your back and raise your hips in the air.

You’ve taken enough breaths. Changbin slips his thumb between your mouth and pulls your jaw open. You obey immediately, sucking on his digit so Chan can get on his knees and find his place behind you.

“You won’t break.” His fingers lead you to his cock again and Chan makes sure to keep a good grip on your hair. “Binnie will be careful, hm? Just open your mouth for me.”

How can you not when the sight of Changbin’s twitching cock is right in front of you? How could you possibly attempt to be quiet when Chan teases his cock between your folds. The head slides from your hole to your clit. The shape of his tip makes you twitch every time it rubs over your nerves.

“God, you’re so wet.” Chan’s eyes lock on your cunt and the pucker of your ass. “Nasty bitch, huh? Getting all wet from choking on dick.”

And you’re about to gush again when Changbin slides his cock between your lips. Now it’s him who keeps your hair from your face while Chan bobs your head. With how quickly he makes you swallow Changbin, he doesn’t need to rock his hips for friction. Your ass bounces back every time your head comes up only to slide back down.

Changbin whines. He can’t help but buck his hips until you gag. “S-see? You can do it. Making Binnie feel so good.”

You remember to suck this time. Chan slows your head so he can line up his cock, grabbing the shaft and pushing through.

He’s usually good at multitasking, but slipping into your walls for the first time in a while has him stopping your head altogether. Chan moans, pulling out slightly before going in a few more inches. The stretch makes your eyes unfocus and your tongue goes slack from the pressure.

“Fuuuck.” His groans send shivers down your skin and Changbin’s thighs. “I missed this pussy.”

They move harmoniously opposite. One goes in while the other goes out, forcing you to be full in either hole. Rocking forward makes you gag on Changbin’s cock while rocking back makes you clench around Chan’s. You think they might start fighting over who you should squeeze more and how you should bounce between the two, but they quickly find a resolution.

“Ah! Fuck her harder, Channie! I’mma cum if she keeps sucking me like this.”

He replies with a grunt. Chan’s fingers leave your bruised ass to rest on either side of Changbin’s legs. He leans over you, forcing your ass even higher with his tip pressing into your cervix.

You squeal with a mouth full of cock.

“Yes! Perfect! Fuck her, fuck her, fuck her…”

“If I fuck her any harder, I’ll cum.” But Chan pounds his hips roughly anyway. Now there truly is no escape from them. Your nose is digging into Changbin’s tummy and Chan is mounting you like an animal.

It feels like they’ll never let you leave.

Had Changbin’s cock been longer, you would be needing air every few seconds. You’re more than thankful for his short cock now so that the only thing you worry about is how much drool you feel leaking off your chin and how sore the corners of your lips will be after.

Still, being stretched is a small price to pay to be filled.

The sounds of sex echo in the empty room. Your pussy gushes every time Chan thrusts and your gargle each time Changbin manages to lift your head.

Not that he can anymore. He’s perfectly content with your convulsing throat and harsh sucks. His thick fingers keep your hair pulled back so he can see how pretty your tears look. But when you look up at him with your waterline red and wet, his eyes roll back.

“Oh my god. Keep looking at me. Fuck yes! ‘m so sorry baby. You look so pretty crying and Channie’s fucking you so good and-” His eyes cross. His cock pulses once, twice in your mouth before it spurts.

It’s like your entire body glitches. There’s no escaping how his cum shoots down your throat and you wetly cough. Your hands squeeze his thighs in silent pleas, but Changbin’s eyes are closed and his head throws back. His hips slightly thrust to ride out his high.

Chan is the one who gives you freedom. He quickly straightens himself and yanks you by the hair upwards. It's not strings of spit that keep you bound to Changbin like before, but cum. Even with your sobs and moans, the threads refuse to break. The ones that surprisingly do slap onto your breasts messily.

On your knees with Chan, you lean your head back on his shoulder. He still has a fistful of your hair, but he uses the grip on your waist to keep fucking into you.

“So pretty,” he mumbles. You laugh weakly because you know he must be lying. Your lips are fat and bruised, soaked in white arousal with tears streaming down your face. Yet, Chan leans to plant a kiss anyway.

It’s just as nasty as you’d expect. It’s teeth. It’s tongue. It’s spit. You have no choice but to share Changbin’s cum when he shoves his tongue down your throat. The kiss makes you lose your breath, but it doesn’t feel suffocating. Chan trails his hand from your hip to your clit and you whimper in his mouth.

“Aww,” Changbin pouts somewhere in the distance. “Binnie wants some too.”

You reach around Chan to grab onto his ass. The softness and firmness makes it the perfect leverage for you to hold onto while he drives in.

Changbin crawls on his knees. The mattress dips and though you can’t see, you assume he’s waiting for Chan to pass your lips to him. But you’re proven wrong when you feel a mouth latch onto your nipple. The heat of his tongue makes your clit jolt in Chan’s fingers, and Chan doesn’t stop you from looking down at your chest.

His curls are out of control. Changbin’s hair shines in the moonlight beautifully. His head dips lower so he can swipe his dripping cum into his mouth, moving it to your peaked breasts so he can play with it there.

With your most sensitive parts being touched, it’s hard not to feel warmth pooling in your belly. Your chest burns with pleasure. The scratchy moans and mewls that leave your lips tell the men that you’re close.

“Oh, fuck yeah. Keep squeezing my dick like that.” Chan leans back just enough to thrust deeper. Your breasts jiggle in Changbin’s mouth, but he manages to keep his pretty lips wrapped around your nipple. “I’ll cum in your pussy, just how you want it.”

You know he won’t last much longer, but neither will you. Chan has been fucking you earnestly for what feels like forever. You imagine his cum would keep you full for days with how long he’s been holding out.

Changbin’s teeth tug on your bud harshly. The dull pain sparks into pleasure and you whine. “Ngh! I want it, I want it. Fuck. Don’t stop. Daddy, please don’t stop.”

You feel Changbin giggling with your nipple in his mouth, but you can hardly pay a mind to it. Chan’s chest vibrating with a snarl brings your orgasm much closer. It almost hurts with how his thighs smack your ass, but he rubs your clit just right until you’re seeing stars.

And when he cums with you, your stomach feels on fire. Chan’s cock throbs as your walls milk him. The mixture of arousals makes your cunt flood before dripping out and down his length.

Though your legs are tired, you don’t want to move from his warmth just yet. The fluttering of your cunt should tell Chan that, but he pulls out anyway to pass you to the impatient man in front.

Changbin is like a pillow when you grasp onto him. He’s warm and sticky on your skin. You try to nuzzle into his chest but Changbin seems to have other plans. He lays you on your back and props your knees up so they can watch Chan’s cum ooze with your thighs apart.

The release drips out seconds later. The pearly white compliments your skin almost elegantly and you watch how they gape as though you’re the finest painting in the world.

“Got all that cum in you just like you wanted.” “Fuck yeah you did.” “What do you say, baby?” “What do you saaayy?”

You gleam with bashfulness. Even with your puffy clit and gaping pussy on display, your friends manage to make you burn with embarrassment.

“Thank you, daddy.” You don’t have to specify which one. They are more than happy to share the role, one being stricter while the other is only somewhat gentler and then switching. It seems they especially like this encounter, noting the dimples on Chan’s cheeks and Changbin’s cooing.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? Bin made a mess on your tits.” Chan stands to go searching for a rag, but Changbin nuzzles between your thighs. You lay your legs on his broad shoulders.

“With a shirt?” Changbin looks at you with wide eyes. “Wouldn’t you want my mouth instead?”

You would. You would do anything for his kisses, but your cunt is so sore and sensitive that you’re not sure if you would be able to feel it. “It hurts, Binnie.”

“I can kiss it better.” But Chan is already pulling him by the ear. Changbin howls in mock pain and flops against your hip instead.

“Yah! That wasn’t very nice, Daddy!”

Chan shakes his head, but you two can see him blush. “We have a lot to unpack tomorrow. We should get some rest so we can wake up bright and early. Come on.” He tosses a random shirt to Changbin who catches it with grumbles. He gently places the cloth between your legs and wipes, trying his best to ignore how your hips buck and throat whines from sensitivity.

It’s not the best clean-up, but it’s good enough. Chan and Changbin squeeze you between them and yawn. You blink at Changbin who’s already grinning looking at you as though he’s the happiest boy alive.

“You guys think we scared the ghost with all that noise?”

Chan barks with laughter, his chest bumping your back. Changbin loses his smile and gets up to wiggle between you and Chan. “Move! I’m sleeping in the middle!”

You let him push you out of the way so he can snuggle in the center. Chan groans but wraps his arms around Changbin anyway, looking at you with annoyance and fondness.

“I hope the ghosts come after you tonight.”

It feels like a hangover when you wake up. Your eyes take forever to adjust in the dark room, the only light being the moon.

Chan and Changbin are still holding each other, chest to back with their arms reaching towards you like you were the tiniest spoon. They look so endearing like this, eyes shut with snores you’re sure are the reason you woke up in the first place. You gently brush their curls from their face, faintly smiling when your head pounds again.

Water. You need water.

The three of you are usually good with replenishing each other after an intense scene, but everyone was beyond tired from the move. So it’s you who has to stand, put on a shirt you hope isn’t the stained one, and wobble to the kitchen for a glass.

You try not to think about how scary the empty house is. How the stairs creak underneath with each step or how your own shadow frightens you. But the worst are the chills crawling up your spine. That sense that no matter how fast you walk or how concealed you are in the dark…

Something’s there.

Quietly, you flick on the kitchen lights. You have to rummage through the moving boxes and newspaper-wrapped dishes to find a cup.

Get water. Run upstairs. Go to sleep. You think that repeating those three steps will help lessen the fear in your bones, but a squeak from behind makes you yelp anyway.

So you were being watched.

By mice.

Fuck.

It scurries away before you have a chance to get anything more than a glimpse. All you have to follow is a white tail slithering its way to the living room. If you can find where it lives, you and the guys will have a solid chance at exterminating them right from the source.

But when it heads for the little door you opened hours ago, you curse out loud.

“Shit!”

It's your fault. You let your foolish curiosity get the better of you and now all the little tricks you played on Changbin are biting you in the ass. You feel angry and hopeless when the mouse slips through the little crevice and disappears.

The only thing you can do is prepare yourself. You kneel on the hard floor and reach a hand through the crack.

But when you open it up, it’s not mice you’re greeted with. A gust of wind dances on your face, causing your hair to flow back. The air makes you blink furiously and recoil, but you can make out the purple and blue tunnel that lengthens the more you open the door.

To say you’re shocked would be an understatement. The bricks that once blocked the pathway have transformed into a hypnotizing passage that you can’t help but be in awe of from the sight alone.

Logically, you should be horrified. It doesn’t make sense for any of this to happen. This has to be a dream from how numb your body has gone. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth and your legs feel as though they’re jelly. Even then, you have the stupid courage to make them crawl forward.

Something tells you that you won’t be waking up anytime soon.

#horror-october!#skz #skz smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #chan #changbin #chan smut #changbin smut #bangchan #bangchan smut #changbin skz smut #bangchan stray kids #changbin stray kids

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jezebelblues · 3 months ago

Text

apollo | h.s

summary: fall 1925. a journalist looking for a story, a jazz musician dancing with the devil. [au]

cw: smut18+ - oral fem!receiving, alcohol usage, drugs, fem!reader, depiction of gangs, lower case in case u hate me for it, unedited.

word count: approx 16.7k

| debated posting for a while idk. can u tell i have a thing for historical au’s yet

not my gif. if u have the info of the original creator, lmk so i can appropriately credit them.

masterlist

october 16th, 1925 | chicago

a brick building sat tucked into a narrow side street, a sweet irony. it was flanked by tall, worn structures that once boomed with business but now seemed abandoned - their faded signage barely legible in the dingy light of street lamps. there was a reminiscence that lingered, the apollo club once tucked into bed and remained asleep as the city began to expand. there’s no longer a sign that introduces apollo to the public, having been removed a few years ago as the prohibition bared its ugly teeth.

the marquee sign held a dim, white glow with no words placed into it. however, on top of the sign sat a faded golden lyre, subtly marking the place for those who knew. the large entrance door had the chipped markings of the sacred name from a previous white paint, but since has been worn due to time. it’s the kind of door you’d pass by without a glance, unless you knew to look for it.

the club entrance is set into a recessed alcove, shadowed by the overhang of a rusted fire escape. the door itself is heavy and wooden, painted black, with the sheen of wear from countless hands that have brushed against it. it's always slightly ajar, as if welcoming those with enough curiosity to push through, yet closed enough to keep out prying eyes. graffiti lines the walls of the alley, the scrawl of the city's underbelly just a little louder here, a hint that apollo is more than just a music venue - it's a haven for those who dwell in the shadows of society.

a faint, pulsating glow of golden light leaks from beneath the door, casting long shadows onto the rain-slicked pavement. on humid summer nights, you'd hear the low, vibrating hum of jazz slipping out through the cracks - just enough to make a passersby wonder. there's an old iron gate, usually half open, that leads into the alley, lined with crumbling brickwork, creating the feeling of stepping into another world once you've crossed it.

the baseline thrummed through the floorboards, a low, sultry hum that vibrated in the soles of Y/N’s shoes as she stepped into the speakeasy. smoked curled lazily in the air, hanging like the lingering whispers in the dimly lit room. glasses clinked somewhere in the haze, the murmur of voices a soft undercurrent beneath the rich, haunting notes of a piano.

apollo was hidden away in the outskirts of the city, masked - a sanctuary for the lost and reckless. she had heard about this place, about the intoxicating music and the enigmatic man who commanded the small stage. but no story or rumor could have prepared her for the reality.

he was there, center stage, his figure bathed in the golden glow of a single spotlight. harry styles. the name had followed Y/N for weeks, woven into the fabric of the underground world she’d been chasing. no one knew much about him, but everyone had a theory. some said he was a runaway aristocrat, others swore he was tangled up with the mob. all anyone could agree on was that harry's voice could pull the soul right out of your body, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

and now, watching him under the light, she understood why.

he wore a suit that was all sharp lines and expensive fabric, his hair curling softly against the collar of his white shirt, the top button undone in a casual defiance of formality. a cigarette hung loosely from his lips, the smoke twisting like a lazy snake around his face. his eyes, half-lidded and distant, caught the light just enough to gleam as his fingers skimmed across the keys of the piano, a melody drifting from the instrument like a dream. the room fell silent around him, every eye drawn to the man who made the world seem to slow with every note he played.

Y/N stood in the shadows by the bar, watching. observing. this was why you were here. not just for the story, but for him.

as harry's song came to an end, a slow, mingling silence settled over the room. he stood from the piano, and for a brief moment, his eyes swept the crowd - dark, heavylidded, and sharp. when his gaze landed on her, it felt like a secret had passed between the two, unspoken yet undeniable. a slow smile curled at the corner of his lips, like he knew she’s been watching. like he had expected her all along.

Y/N’s breath caught.

this wasn't just any speakeasy, and harry styles wasn't just any jazz musician.

the crowd erupted in applause, but Y/N barely heard it, her pulse loud in her ears as harry disappeared from the stage, swallowed by the dim lights and thick curtains that parted briefly before closing behind him.

she inhaled sharply, forcing refocus. she was here on business, not to get swept up in the glamour. with a quick glance around, she pushed through the crowd, dodging clusters of people who were already sinking into the fog of jazz and alcohol. the bartender caught her eye as she neared the back hallway, a raised eyebrow hinting that he knew she didn't belong.

"can i help you, miss?" he asked, his voice gruff but not unkind. he didn't look like the type to throw you out without hearing your reason for being there. his eyes were a soft blue, almost doe-like.

Y/N runs her fingers through her hair, shifting in her stance. "'i’m supposed to speak with mr. styles." she said, confidence threaded into her tone. it wasn't a lie - she had been assigned to investigate, after all - but she hadn't exactly scheduled an interview. the bartender sized her up, his eyes narrowing in slight suspicion, but before he could reply, a deep voice drifted from behind him.

“no need, lou. i’ve got it.”

harry appeared as if he'd materialized from the shadows themselves, his presence as sharp and magnetic as it had been on stage. he was close now, the soft glow of the bar's dim lights illuminating the fine details of his face - the dark stubble tracing his jaw, the faint crease near his brow that suggested weariness beneath the allure. but his eyes, those piercing eyes, were locked on Y/N with a curiosity that sent a shiver down her spine.

"follow me." he mumbles, tipping his head toward the back. his voice was smooth, the words wrapped in an accent that didn't quite belong in this part of the city. she hesitated for only a second, feeling the weight of the moment settle. this was what she had come for.

Y/N stepped past the bartender and followed harry down a narrow corridor. the hum of the lounge faded as she moved deeper into the club, the walls closing in, and the only sound left was the echo of their footsteps and the soft click of harry's polished shoes against the floor. he led her into a small, private room at the end of the hall. it wasn't what she had expected for a locally popular musician, no. there were no plush velvet couches, no haze of cigarette smoke. instead, the room was plain, almost bare with a simple desk, a chair, and a window that overlooked the city streets. the chair looked a bit comfortable, at least - the light floral pattern matching its time.

harry leans against the faded oak desk, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded her with a faint smile. “you’ve been watching me all evening.” it wasn’t a question, just a quiet statement of truth.

Y/N swallowed, fighting to keep her composure. “i’m Y/N, a journalist.” she pauses, reaching into her bag and pulling out a dainty notebook. “m’here to write a piece on nightlife, the underground scene. apollo has a reputation.”

harry’s smile widened at her words, though his eyes darkened a bit, shadows playing in their depth. “and here i thought you were just another fan.” he pushed himself from the desk and takes a slow step towards the journalist, his gaze flickering between the notebook and her pretty face, studying every nuance like he was cataloging it for later. “but i’m guessing you’re not here to talk about the music, hm?”

she opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat. it was like he was pulling her into his orbit with nothing more than a look. after a beat of prolonged staring, she found her voice. “no.” she shakes her head, trying to choose her words carefully. “there are rumors about you, mr. styles - about your connections, like the bootleggers that keep this city running after dark.”

harry's eyes gleamed, and he tilted his head, lips curving into a smirk and that hid something more. “rumors," he repeated, his voice soft and amused. he was closer now, just a few feet away, and the air between them felt thick. "rumors can be deadly in this city, darlin’. you should be careful who you listen to."

"i'm not afraid of rumors," she quips, forcing her chin up in defiance. "but i am interested in the truth. if you're involved in something bigger, people wanna know. your name became a gallery seemingly overnight.”

for a brief moment, the playful edge in harry’s expression faded, replaced by something harrowing - something that made Y/N’s heart race in both fear and fascination. "the truth," he echoed, his voice dropping to a low murmur. he leaned closer, his face inches from hers now, the scent of tobacco and something sweet dancing in the air between them. "the truth is, sweetheart, maybe i just sold my soul to the devil." his eyes burrow into hers, as if he’s trying to search within her. “people who come knockin’ for answers usually end up regretting it.”

his words hung in the air, heavy and foreboding, but she didn't back down. if anything, his warning only ignited her determination. Y/N had spent too long fighting to be taken seriously as a journalist, too long navigating a world where men thought they could intimidate or charm you into submission. she shakes her head, holding his gaze. “i don’t scare easily.”

harry stares down at her for a long moment, unwavering; like he was trying to figure out what exactly to do with the woman that stood before him. then, without warning, he let out a soft, breathy laugh while he shakes his head. “y’got guts, i’ll give you that.” he straightened up, breaking the tension between them, although the smirk still lingered on his lips. “alright, i’ll tell you what. wanna talk? come back tomorrow night and we can talk.”

with that, harry turned away, leaving Y/N standing in the dim room, heart pounding as the door clicked shut behind him. she stood there for a moment longer, her mind racing. she had come looking for answers, grazing her finger along his words like a page in a book, only receiving a paper cut in return. she found something dangerous, intoxicating, and impossible to ignore.

the next day arrived with an unseasonal chill in the air. Y/N stood at the street corner, breath visible in the low glimmer of a streetlight, clutching the strap of her bag a little tighter than usual. the thought of returning weighed on her mind. everything about last night - harry’s intense gaze, the invitation, the strange undercurrent of danger - lingered like a ghost in the back of her mind, pulling her in even as logic said to be careful.

she wasn’t new to risky assignments, but something about apollo felt different, like stepping into a dream where the rules of reality didn’t apply. there was an edge to the club that unsettled her, but it was also what made it difficult to resist.

she pulled her coat tighter around her frame as she made her way back toward the club’s narrow alley. the day had passed in a blur of half-hearted distractions, mind constantly drifting back to the meeting with harry. she had went to work as usual, exchanging small details of her story with her boss that doubted she could produce something of this measure. after all, she was just a woman. the city’s usual bustle had faded into a muted hum, and now, as she approached the speakeasy, it felt like she was walking into the mouth of something unknown.

the alley was darker tonight. the same graffiti-covered brick walls loomed on either side, but the faint pulse of golden light beneath the door felt almost menacing now. the faint, muffled sound of music drifted through the walls - a melancholy trumpet, shrill and poignant.

for a moment, she hesitated. was this really a good idea? she could walk away now, no questions asked, and pretend that harry styles and his world of secrets weren’t as intriguing as they appeared. but something inside Y/N knew she couldn’t. no, not after the things his smile hid, not after the way he had looked at her.

she stepped closer, hand hovering over the door handle. she bites her lip, pushing it open and then waltzing into the club like she belonged. the same smoky haze filled the room, but tonight, the air felt heavier, as if the very walls were holding their breath. warm lights twinkled in the lounge, two men standing upon the stage and playing their instruments with ease. it made her heart heavy, a sad language transcribed into feelings. it was wordless, but the tune held more than a jumble of letters could. some of the folks who sat in the booths actually listened, while others drank and talked amongst themselves.

Y/N scans the room, noticing harry near the bar. his outfit was a bit lackluster in comparison to yesterday, but he still looked dazzling. his posture seemed tense, gazing around the club as if he was in search of something - or someone. when he spots Y/N, a flicker of recognition crossed his features, but it didn’t come with the same easy smile. he offered a curt nod, gesturing her to follow him into a dimly lit area of the lounge.

and so she did, her bottom lip falling between the nervous grip of her teeth. the leather booth was tucked away in a back corner behind the bar, the faint light flickering overhead and casting long shadows over harry’s face. he slid into the booth first, leaning back with the same nonchalant grace as she had seen the night before. Y/N hesitated momentarily before sitting across from him, her bag resting beside her, ready to take notes when appropriate - but this felt less like an interview and moreso stepping upon a trapdoor. still, she tried to remain confident. harry’s eyes never left her, but there was a tension in his posture now, something taut and coiled just beneath his surface. he tapped his fingers heavily against the table, expression unreadable. “so, you came back.” he mutters, his voice a low rumble that made her stomach flip. “guess that means you’re serious.”

she knits her brows together, trying to maintain a collected composure by sitting back in her seat. “why wouldn’t i be?” she quips, her voice steady despite the anxiety that bubbled in her chest. she felt so close to him, feeling the weight of his presence - the same magnetism that could have everyone in the room gravitating toward him.

his lip twitched, almost like he was fighting back a grin, but his eyes remained cloudy and guarded. “y’persistent, little dove.” he paused, running his hands through his curls as his gaze flickers toward her hand reaching into her small bag. “but persistence can be- what’re y’doing?”

her eyes narrowed, turning her head to look at the suddenly more tense (if possible) man across from her. “i- i was gonna take notes.”

his features hardened, shaking his head and she immediately pulled her empty hand out from her bag. “y’trying to make things obvious? you’re already comin’ in here dressed like the press.” he grumbles, leaning slightly over the table between them. he turned his head away, jaw tightening, staring at some distant point in the smoky haze in the lounge.

she waited, her heart hammering in her chest as she nodded. the tension between them palpable yet unspoken. she wondered if there was a reason at all for this, if she would get any sort of answers or if he was just wasting her time.

after silence fell between them, his fingers stilled on the table. when he finally glanced over at her again, something had shifted in his expression. there was a flutter of vulnerability, something raw and unguarded, but it was fleeting. “i’ll give you a crumb.” he sighed, studying her face. “but it won’t be the whole story, not yet.”

she nodded slowly, like if her movements threatened to be too quick and cast a breeze, he’d blow away. like a dandelion to make a wish upon.

“there’s things about this city that the public won’t see.” he began, voice low and steady. “like the people who run it. the alcohol, drugs, power, it’s connected.” he paused, his adam’s apple bobbing against his collar. “bigger than just one man. i don’t pull the strings, m’just a puppet.”

her pulse quickened as she nodded along, trying her best to remember each key detail so she could write it down in her apartment later. “if this is so risky..” she paused, her throat dry and voice shaky. “why tell me?”

for the first time, harry felt the words get caught in his throat. why. his throat could be slit in the back alley tomorrow morning, or his fingers hammered against a table for even looking as if he was running his mouth. his eyes averted to the table, but when he looked up again, the mask was back in place, his expression reserved and hardened. “i’ve been where you are.” harry murmurs. “lookin’ for answers. thinking i could handle whatever. but i was wrong. this world will take everything from you if y’let it.”

her heart ached at the hint of pain in his voice, but before she could respond, harry leaned back in his seat. the moment of vulnerability gone as quick as it appeared. “s’all i’ll give you for tonight.” he said, voice firm. “if you want more you’ll have to earn it.”

she opened her mouth to protest, but harry stood up swiftly, eyes softening momentarily as he looked down at her. “m’on next.” he says gently, nodding his head toward the stage. “feel free to listen, otherwise, get home safe.” he dismisses, turning away and disappearing within a dark hallway.

Y/N frowned as harry vanished before her, slouching in her seat. she replayed his words over and over, studying them so she could write them down as effortlessly as she could later. she debated asking for a drink, but decided it against it as there was some clattering and adjusting on the stage. she had to crane her neck to steal a glance, but after a beat, harry appeared. the same soft spotlight shone on him, and she swore he looked like painting of the fallen angel brought to life. his eyes were narrowed and glossed over, the golden gleam of light paining him a rose gold. he held a heavier looking guitar in hand, and he started to strum after a momentary pause. his voice was low and raspy, and she could’ve sworn she floated toward the center of the lounge to watch instead of walking. his face held every bit of emotion the song could emit. it was almost refreshing to Y/N to see him this way, instead of the feigned apathy that befell him almost constantly.

the melodies he played revealed how shattered he was, it was apparent. he resembled a tragic painting from years into the past she would study in the history classes from adolescence. harry, himself, was poetry. an art. Y/N felt her chest grow heavy, knowing that she was sucked so far into the enigma on stage that she couldn’t fall away from this if she tried.

Y/N tossed and turned that night. the rain pitter-pattering on her thin windows as she curled into her desk, writing down whatever she could in her notes. every scribble in the margins were a question mark, riddles with no answer. she had even put on her favorite nightgown, silk and blushed pink. the color of harry’s lips, perhaps a shade lighter.

the next day dawned gray and overcast, the chill from the night before lingering like a hangover. Y/N eventually awoke in her small apartment, the events of the previous night playing on repeat in her mind. harry’s cryptic words, and the way he had performed on stage haunted her like the fading notes of his song. she sat at her rounded kitchen table that stood by a window, puddles rippling with each sprinkle of rain and the usual bustle of pedestrians moving about. the cup of tea before her steamed her face, and she basked in it. the warmth was comforting, having not changed out of her night attire and she hasn’t dared to try to warm the apartment just yet. coal was too expensive, and she could tough it out in heavy layers for just a bit longer.

her editor had phoned earlier, asking if there were any updates. but she dodged it completely, citing vague leads she still had to chase down. in truth, she wasn’t quite sure what she had. a story? not yet. a lazy article in the morning paper? maybe. she felt like she had an omen more than a paper worthy of breaking news. perhaps, she thought, she should take it as a sign and work down at the pier as a fortune teller. maybe even ask her boss for her own segment in the paper as a prophet. she tried not to grin pathetically at her inner turmoil.

before heading back to apollo in the evening, something that had become her routine - she took a second to think about what she should wear. harry mentioned in passing last night that it was already too obvious to take notes, especially since she dressed like the press anyway.

her lips pursed as she feathered her fingers over the clothes in her wardrobe. she wasn’t as cool as she’d like to be, didn’t have much that would fit into the speakeasy scene. she definitely didn’t own any flapper dresses or laces, but she did have a glittery black dress that reached her knees and frayed at the end. it was her late best friend’s, something she kept for sentiment and didn’t expect to ever wear. she clipped her hair up behind her, deciding against overdoing it in jewelry and only pulling on a dainty silver necklace that has been passed down through the women in her family. the mirror was a bit worn, but she smiled at her reflection, it looked like another version of her. her makeup was almost bare, her features dreamy. she had made note to wear one of her longer coats, mostly because of the weather, but also because she wouldn’t have felt safe bouncing around the city in her current dress.

she made her usual way back to apollo, the chill in the air almost as sharp as the sound of her kitten heels hitting the pavement. the occasional car rolled past, headlights cutting through the gathering gloom - it was only a thursday night after all. she was greeted by familiar warm lights of the club shimmering from underneath the door. she patted herself down anxiously, taking a deep breath and relaxing her features. she pushed the door open, the crowd larger than it previously was last night. the door scooted to a close behind her, and she unbuttoned her coat as she waltzed further in. there must’ve been a deal on drinks due to how much busier the bar was. louis had shot her a gentle glance, and she returned it with a small smile.

Y/N knew harry was on stage by the sound of his voice. it was piano again tonight, and the lyrics were bare - relying more on the notes of the piano to speak for him. her eyes twinkled at the sight of him. he’d worn all black tonight, and it made his green irises more vibrant. she was transfixed. Y/N doubted the idea that everyone was born with a set purpose, but it was undeniable how harry’s purpose was music. her mind wandered to the possibility of him even being the embodiment of apollo himself.

the journalist didn’t know where he was in his set, so she turned on her heel to the dispersing bar crowd. louis nodded a greeting toward her while another man beside him, one she hadn’t recognized, poured drinks for the few that were waiting. “hey.” she smiles, shrugging her coat off and setting it neatly in her lap as she sat on stool. “busy tonight.”

he only nodded again, his thin lips tugging into a smirk as he wiped down a glass with a clean, white rag. “thursday’s usually bring more of ‘em in.” he shrugged. “dunno why.”

she nodded, watching the brunette maneuver around the glasses. she didn’t realize until now that he also had an accent that sounded far away, since she was always usually focused on harry. Y/N bit the inner corner of her lip, nodding along absentmindedly to whatever he said until he ducked down a bit to meet her level, waving his hand slightly with a smile. “y’hear me?”

her cheeks flushed a bit, sheepishly shaking her head. “no.” she laughed, “sorry, what?”

he placed the glass in front of her, turning away momentarily before he poured her an amber colored liquor. the tips of his index and middle finger gently pushed the glass toward her before he stepped away to put the bottle back.

she stared at the glass like it would jump out at her. it was illegal to drink like this, prohibition and all. not to mention, her career would whither away if her boss caught wind of her getting into trouble with alcohol she wasn’t supposed to have. “it won’t bite.” lou chuckled, standing in front of her again, ripping her away from her own thoughts. “might taste like it though.”

she smiles with him, the tip of her finger running along the rim as she stares at her waning reflection in the alcohol. “bit nervous.” she admits quietly.

he scoffs, humor evident in his tone, however. “ ‘cause of the bloody prohibition?” he asks, causing her to look up. “don’t worry ‘bout it, we won’t be troubled here.”

she shook her head to his words, knowing that he meant the cops wouldn’t dare to stop by here unannounced. it felt self explanatory, gathering it from harry’s mumbles and such. the interconnections that ran through here were a dime a dozen - it’s easy to assume law enforcement could have their hands dirty as well. and so Y/N inhaled, giving louis an amused expression as she downed the alcohol she now recognized as whiskey. her eyebrows furrow from the taste, lips pursed as she slid the glass back over to him. “thank you.”

harry’s melody began to lighten, hinting that he was most likely almost finished. that was confirmed when he stood from the piano, pressed his lips in a flat smile toward the crowd, and disappeared behind the curtain without so much as a glance in the bars direction. she heard the heavy glass push toward her again, eyes falling on the doe eyed boy who gave her another drink. “he’s n’ a mood, you’ll need it.”

with that, she warily gulped it down, muttering another soft thank you as she picked up her folded coat and crossed over to the familiar path she once took the first night - his office. her steps started to slow as she walked further into the hallway, noticing his door slightly ajar. her pulse quickened, unsure of the personality she would encounter in a moment - she supposed the alcohol would help. thanks louis. steeling herself, she knocked lightly, then pushed it open.

there he sat, behind the same oak desk, but his easy charm wasn’t there. not visible to her at least. his face was shadowed, the small lamp casting sharp lines on his features. he could be cut and molded from marble. his sleeves were rolled up, revealing tattooed forearms. his fingers tapped restlessly against a half emptied glass. he looked up when she entered, his jaw clenched ever so slightly. “you came back.”

Y/N lightly closed the door behind her, hanging her coat on an abandoned rack beside her. she ambled toward the seat across from him, his eyes taking over her figure. his glance held something new, something she hadn’t seen from him before and she tried to stifle how her cheeks threatened to heat from it. she sat down, crossing her legs. “you told me to.”

he hums, eyes finally settling on her face as he shifts in his chair. “y’look different.” he mutters, swirling the remaining liquid in his drink. the ice clinked softly, a sharp contrast to the tension that seemed to always exist between them. “y’blend in. beautifully, too.”

she was unable to hide her blush now, the heat betraying her. it was obvious he noticed it as well, his lips threatening a smile. “thank you.” she says softly, “didn’t bring my notes either.”

he chuckled, taking his last sip. “good girl.” he grins, setting the glass down and falling into his seat more. he stretched out his legs, folding his arms over his chest - his gaze unwavering. “it’s a machine.” he starts, jutting his chin out toward her as an indication she should listen. “profit on the alcohol and drugs, or help smuggle it, get something in return.” he shrugs, swallowing dryly. “quid pro quo.”

she nods, placing both her hands upon the table as she fidgets with the tips of her fingers. if she’s doing something simultaneously, it’ll help her remember for later.

he clears his throat, sitting up only slightly. “cops get a cut for letting it slip under their nose. gang makes money either way, they run it.” his tone was matter-of-fact, like it was how to word went ‘round. and she guesses, in a sense, it was.

“what did you get?” she quizzes, without even thinking. it felt too personal of a question, and she wanted to clasp her hands over her mouth for asking so abruptly. but she remained still, biting her lip. she could blame her bluntness on the alcohol if needed.

he looks at her through his eye lashes, smiling gently - like he didn’t allow himself to fully. “my name.” he pauses, sitting up completely and bouncing his knee in a rhythm. “didn’t have anything before i started helpin’ out. immigrated to america on a whim, nothin to my name.” he chuckled, though it sounded sad. “met them, and suddenly i had an apartment and instruments and an audience.” he enthused, shaking his head to himself with the same gentle smile. “s’what i came here for. the music.”

she had stopped fidgeting moments ago, too enamored by his words. the more that fell from his lips, the more hopelessly intrigued she felt. he was a story she couldn’t stop flipping the pages to, his roots in a reality she was unaware of.

his expression shifted, an indifference settling upon him. “but the debt is infinite.” he says lowly, locking eyes with her. “done is done, in is in.”

Y/N’s lips parted, her face falling. a glimmer settled in her eye, searching harry’s face. she wondered briefly if he was only a figment of reality, perhaps a warning. “sold your soul to the devil.” she echoed his previous words, and she tried to ignore the shiver that wanted to run down her spine.

his lips finally curled into a full smile, nodding. “exactly, sweetheart.”

silence sat between them once again. there was a weight upon her shoulders, yet she felt almost weightless from the whiskey coursing through her veins. she hadn’t drank in a while, and due to her belly being empty, she felt its effects more quickly than usual. she remained still however, not wanting her head to spin off her shoulders. “tell me what i can do.”

harry almost snorted a laugh, but the sincerity dancing upon her features made him decide against it. his chest almost felt warm at her empathy. he shook his head, smiling. “there’s nothing you can do.” he pauses, “they’re smart, no mistakes. no loose ends.” he figuratively wraps something around his neck, holding his fist above his head. “only loose end they have is a noose.”

her breath hitched, and she swore her heart missed a beat or two. “nothing?” she murmurs, almost to herself. she shot him a glance, something a bit harsher. “why am i here then?” her voice was louder than usual, and had an edge to it. “you know my reasoning here, yet it feels i’m stonewalled.”

he sighed, running his hands through his messy curls. “cause,” he hesitated, another sigh escaping. “god.” he mumbles, letting his head fall backwards and lean against his chair. “i shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. y’gonna get yourself killed.”

she froze in her seat, “why do you say that?”

he groaned softly, shifting in his seat once more. she picked up on how restless he can be when upset. “you want to write y’little heart out on this, make a good story.” he says firmly, staring her down. “and it will, it will make a good story. but they’re not gonna clean house, make things the way it should.” he shook his head. “they’ll kill you, and then threaten your boss into confirming that y’were chasing a conspiracy, Y/N. you’ll not only be dead, but soil your own name in the process.”

she didn’t move, her mouth agape. she couldn’t help the small feeling that she was tricked sit in her chest. he could’ve turned her away from the get-go. she would’ve found another lead, another story. but now her job knew of her efforts, and her boss already doubted that a woman could publish such news. her shoulders falter, lips falling into a frown. “you already let me in.” she muttered, shaking her head. “everything here can be anonymous. but i’m not backing away now.”

he rolled his eyes, his frustration evident - but he could only blame himself. he dangled the carrot, he sucked her into his whirlpool of corruption that any reporter would be a fool to ignore. and if his death was a result in this, his own sword would be in his executioner’s hands. “god help you.” he sighs, clenching his jaw.

she took that as his defeat, and a small grin spread across her lips. she reached for the whiskey bottle that previously filled his glass, bringing it to her lips and taking a swig with a wince she couldn’t stifle. “don’t think theres one between us.” she whispers her reply, shoving the bottle toward the man across from her.

harry chuckled softly at her words, though there was no humor in his eyes. he caught the bottle as it slid toward him, the amber liquid sloshing inside. he took a long pull from it, his gaze fixed on her over the rim. there was a silent understanding now, one that settled uncomfortably between them. they were both two sides of the same coin - her driven by the need to uncover the truth, and him, trapped by the web of corruption he'd helped weave around himself.

Y/N felt dizzy, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the whiskey or the way he looked at her. the quiet between them made her unsure if the should bid her goodbyes, or sit with him for a bit longer. he didn’t make an effort to shoo her away like he would usually do, but he didn’t ask her to stay, either. but, like a jinx, harry stood from his seat, rounding the desk until he towered over her. he extended his hand down to her, gently pulling her up from the chair. she wobbled, and harry watched her through half-lidded eyes. “y’alright?”

“i’ve had a few.” she smiles sheepishly, removing her hand from his. the inside of his hands were calloused, a faint bruise on a knuckle or two, though the top of his hands were soft. “i think i should head home, if we’re finished here.” she murmurs, slowing inching toward the door to avoid tripping in front harry.

he lets out a breathy laugh, ushering toward her and placing his hand on the small of her back - barely. his fingers lightly grazed the fabric of her dress, and his palm simply hovered instead of pressing down. “let me walk you then.”

she furrows her brows as she shrugs her coat back on, shooting the curly brunette a look as he pulled open the door. “i can manage.”

he only smiled again, following her along the hallway into the main area. “m’not letting a pretty girl walk home alone, all the while dizzy from havin’ a few.”

she exhales through her nose, pursing her lips. of course he was right, but she wish he wasn’t. she dreamt of a world where women could feel safe, but it was only 1925, and the feminists of her time could only do so much with what they were given. so instead, she settled on wishing that at least her future daughters will have more. he lead her through the familiar corridor, stealing a glance or two.

harry pulled the door open for her, the crisp air hitting her a bit harsher than she would’ve liked. she hastily buttoned up her coat, a hand lightly touching the small of her back again. they walked quietly, only the wind and the click of their shoes audible as Y/N lead the way. harry’s nose began to flush a shade of pink, his curls dancing in the breeze. the alcohol made her feel a bit warmer however, or maybe it was her coat, or the hand she knew was on her back. “just around this corner.” she utters, breaking the silence.

they round corner, entering her street. brick apartment buildings sat on the edge of the sidewalk, along with a few small shops and a mechanic a little bit farther down. “not too bad of a walk.” harry adds, watching her start up the steps toward the main entrance. he stops by the large glass door, hands shoved in his pockets as she opens it. she looks at him expectantly as he just stands there, bobbing on his heels from the cold.

“coming in..or?” she trails off, raising an eyebrow at him.

“um.” he mumbles, taking the door from her hand and pulling it further open to step in behind her. “only if you’re okay with it.”

she laughs, traipsing toward the staircase with harry trudging close behind. “you walked me, least i could do is offer you something warm to drink.”

harry only smiles, remaining quiet as he mirrors her steps. she was only on the third floor, which harry thanked his lucky stars for, since his legs already ached from his jog in the morning. Y/N walked a few doors down, stopping on the fourth before unlocking her door and holding it open for the musician enter behind. she hangs her coat and drops her keys on the entry table beside her door while harry locks it from habit.

she toes off her shoes, encouraging harry to follow her into the kitchen and take a seat - in which he does silently. he feels almost too tall for her things, like it was a dollhouse intricately made for her. the floral table cloth on the round table hung off the sides gently, kept in place in the center by an unlit candle and a cute, little ceramic trinket. he couldn’t help but smile as he took in the surroundings, everything fitting into her personally so well. the floors were creaky and wooden - almost dull, but she brightened things up with all the pretty colors she could find. of course there was a fluffy rug in the sofa room, not to mention the bookshelf adorned with all kinds of books and little sentimental items she’s collected over the years. it was homey, and it was just hers.

she placed a mug in front of him, a raised etch of lavender right in the center. he fiddled with the tea bag, letting the steam wash over his face. Y/N had sit in the only chair left, which was across from him. a chill radiated off the window, but the temperature in the apartment was comfortable, nonetheless. harry had eyed her notebook that sat on the edge while he took a sip, and it took almost everything in him not to ask if he could take a peak.

“i don’t usually drink.” she says softly, tracing the florals on the tablecloth. “since the law and everything. but it’s nice.”

he places the mug down, nodding along with her. “it is.”

“i swear,” she whispers, reaching her hands out and taking harry’s wrist in her palm. he shivered from how cold her touch was, but melted into it as she began to trace the anchor inked onto him. “i could write a story on these alone.”

he grinned, his breath hitching. a daze clouded her eyes, and he knew it was just the liquor speaking for her. he still chose to enjoy it, however. his eyes threatened to flutter shut, to sink in his seat until he floated to the ground like a leaf shaken from a tree. but his trance came to an end as she pulled her fingers back, fidgeting with her own again. “sorry.” she mumbled bashfully.

“s’okay.” he shrugged. it was more than okay. he picked up his mug again, taking another sip. they sat in a blissful quiet, harry eventually finishing his tea to which she placed the used mug into the sink to reside in for the night.

Y/N leaned against the counter, and she could feel every beat and flutter of her heart against her chest. harry watched her expectantly, standing in her stunning dress in something as simple as a kitchen. a spring flower blossoming in the dead of winter - she was otherworldly. “i’m gonna change and i’ll walk you out after, okay?” she asked softly, to which earned a nod from harry. she began to step away, but before she peeled off into her bedroom, she paused, “you can look over my notes so far.” she murmurs, eyes glancing to her notebook before she crosses over to her bedroom.

harry felt like she read his mind. with her permission, the man doesn’t think twice. as she disappears, he pulls the book open to read over her pages. neat and cursive all in black ink, annotations and question marks in her margins. everything fit into this girl so well - it was almost alarming how her heart lived on her sleeve. but his jaw tightened at her writing, both their names everywhere. he knows that they only discussed anonymity prior to leaving, but it made his stomach twist seeing his name next to all these investigative questions and statements. his nostrils flared as he stood from the chair, walking out her door without so much as a goodbye.

Y/N had spent the last seventeen hours in a haze. after hearing the slam of her door, she rushed out only to find an empty apartment and a spread open notebook on the side of the table harry sat at. she had read over her pages more than once, but she couldn’t find a hint as to why he was upset. she had only wrote down what was said, maybe her own questions here and there, but it wasn’t anything offensive. all she could do is sit with her worries as she fell into sleep, and then on her bus ride to work the next morning. she helped out on other small article, not sure if this apollo piece would even see the light of day. was she even supposed to go to the club tonight? was that harry’s way of ending their conversations all together? she had spent the entire shift like that, but her mind went quiet on the way home. trees and people passed in a blur from the window, and a sigh of relief fell from her lips as she saw her apartment building come into view.

before she could even trudge up the staircase to her floor, one of the doormen stopped her with a gentle shout. “ms Y/L/N!”

her eyebrows furrowed, meeting him in the middle of the lobby. “what’s happened?”

he chuckles, shaking his head as he ambles over toward the front desk and pulled a powder blue gift box from underneath and walked it over. “a man dropped this off for you this afternoon.”

if her eyebrows could knit inward all the way to the opposite ends of her head to create an intersection, they would. “sorry? what man?” she asked softly, almost to herself.

“brown haired gentleman, tall.”

she only looked up in slight disbelief at the doorman, but offered him a gentle smile and a thank you as she rushed up the steps. the description was vague, but she could only assume it was harry. right? she unlocks her door, pushing it open with her shoulder and slamming it shut with her foot as she stumbles into the kitchen, placing the pretty box on the counter while she just stares at it. it was wrapped in a white lace bow, and she almost didn’t want to unravel it from how cute it sat. (but she did anyway, of course).

her lips parted at the sight before her, unfolding the cream-white fabric to open up to her as exhaled out of shock. the dress was a white that reminded her of vanilla, the trim neckline and shoulders were lace that faded gorgeously into a tinseled dress that would fall above her knees. she only assumed the tinsels would dance with every twist or turn she could make. she draped it over her forearm after admiring the fabric, noticing a small hand written note that lay at the bottom of the box.

see you tonight,

and once the evening drifted into dusk, she slipped on the same coat and made the routine trek back to apollo. the music echoed from the club a bit louder tonight, most likely because it was friday. it was a warmer night in october, causing more people to be out and about. she stepped in, the electricity in the lounge immediate. there was clearly wealthier patrons about, and everyone’s voices blended in with the melody that came from the stage - not harry.

her dress dazzled in the low light, and she felt more at ease with how she mixed in with the other women here so effortlessly. she stepped further in, spinning around once or twice to see if she could spot harry, but, no avail. she wondered if he was even here, and if he wasn’t, why was she?

she took a breath and moved toward the bar where louis stood with a familiar grin. “didn’t expect you tonight.” he greets, sliding over a cocktail he had quickly thrown together.

“no?” she asks, picking up the glass and taking a small sip, happier that it was tastier than the liquor last night. “harry isn’t here?”

he shook his head, rummaging about behind the bar. “he is, he just didn’t mention that you’d be popping in. usually does.”

she frowned, forcing down another sip. she didn’t want to think about the possibility that harry didn’t expect her, thus not being the one to drop off the gift. beneath the glamour of the lounge, there was a buzz in the atmosphere that felt ominous. men in suits held conversations at desolate tables, and there was clearly white powder dusted about from previous lines. the event spelt specific, not its usual casual undertone - like the night was made for something. then, out of the corner of her eye, harry came into view. he walked from behind the curtain, only giving a soft smile to the men he had passed on stage. his clothes were dark again, hands shoved into his pockets as he glanced around. his movements were slow, like he genuinely wasn’t expecting her to stop by. his eyes weren’t eager, and his ears didn’t perk up in attempt to listen to her melodic voice. he greets someone unbeknownst to Y/N, shaking their hand with a flat-lined smile. he seems to look through the woman, a face that couldn’t compare to the journalist he’s become accustomed to. through his blank gaze, he spots her, nevertheless, and he had to take a deep breath to keep himself upward. of course she looked stunning, the lights above her making her face glow, while also reflecting prettily off her dress. none of them even moved for a moment - drinking one another in.

she shifted as harry neared her, leaving the woman with a puzzled expression. he looked good in his suit, but there was an edge to his demeanor. he didn’t smile at Y/N like he did to the woman, but his eyes held more than a tight-lipped smile could. as he stood before her, he nodded toward her dress, a hint of confusion lingering in his features. “blending in again, eh?”

she hesitated. it felt like things were moving in slow motion as harry reached past her to grab a drink from lou, sipping it gingerly as he stared down at her through half lidded eyes. “you like it?”

he swallowed, swishing around the ice as he nodded. “i do.” he says, quiet enough for only her to hear. “how many of those y’got?”

this is where she could allow her heart to take shelter in her throat. she studied his gaze, looking for even a smidge of taunt on him, but there was none. he was being genuine. she shook her head, lips parting. “you didn’t gift it?”

now it was his turn to look confused again, his forehead wrinkling from a furrow. he leaned beside her, only one hand beside her right hip on the surface of the bar. they were close, her arm against the edge of his chest. “what are you talking about?” he asked softly, and she could feel his breath above her ears. “be natural.” he cooed, but his body was tense.

she complied, of course. she didn’t move, remaining smushed against him as she takes a sip from her drink. “this dress was left for me. it had a note, seemingly by you.”

Y/N could hear him swallow, and it didn’t ease her worries one bit. harry sighed, licking his lips before he draped his arms across her shoulders, pulling her into the corner of the bar. it was still open enough for prying eyes, but just a little less visible. he guided her back against the counter, harry towering over her as he faced the crowd - his eyes occasionally scanning behind her. “play along.” he whispers, brushing a loose strand that fell from her clip behind her ears. “what’d the note say, dove?”

by his demeanor, Y/N knew he was troubled with something. she knew she should be shaking with fear in realization that it wasn’t from him, but the butterflies in her stomach gaslit her into believing she was alright. his touch was pillowy and warm, and she could melt in it if he’d let her. but she felt his hand drop, and her eyes snapped open. “um.” she paused, shaking her head ever so slightly. “said see you tonight.” she mumbled, watching his jaw tighten. “H.”

he froze, all attention placed back onto her. she had glanced around, looking for onlooking eyes but harry gently pulled her chin back his direction. “what?”

oh, how she wanted to drop to her knees and pull the fallen angel back up to heaven.

“it ended with H.”

his sigh was heavy, and his grip never fell from her chin. he had parted his lips to speak, but was interrupted by a large hand patting his back. he dropped his grip, glancing at the man beside him. brunette and basically the same height as harry. brown haired, tall gentleman. check.

“you received it well!” the man beamed, all attention pointed at Y/N, to which she only nodded. he extended his hand, lightly shaking hers. “you’ll have to excuse the H initial. figured you would trust that most.”

her eyes darted between the two men in front of her. harry was guarded, as per usual, but his eyes were worried. and the other man, stood confidently, unwavering. “you’ll have to forgive me.” she started softly, “but what is this for?”

“you’ve been around a lot.” he paused, wrapping his arm around harry’s shoulders. “with my star here.” he grinned, not releasing harry. “and i had to silence my intrigue on the pretty girl that made a pattern of coming and going with hushed words.”

she nodded.

his eyes narrowed, unraveling his arm from harry’s frame. before he could form another word, harry stepped over beside her and had pulled her head into his lips gently, kissing her temple. “s’my girl.” he stated. there was no shake or waver, and if Y/N didn’t know anything she would’ve believed it herself.

“your muse!” the man exclaimed, a smirk spreading across his lips - but there was a glimmer in his eye. a doubt, but it was barely there. “i thought we told each other these things?” he asked, but it sounded rhetorical.

“i’m so sorry.” Y/N frowned, shaking her head. “i had begged him for privacy. i didn’t think it would bring trouble.”

his eyes narrowed again, a smile still on his lips but it felt like he could see right through her. “no trouble at all.” he said lowly, nodding toward her. “our work is a lifestyle.” his eyes shot at harry, his smile faltering slightly, but not completely. “not a fan of surprises myself but,” he paused, his gaze befalling Y/N’s. he reaches for her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips. “i enjoy seeing you in my own surprise.” he murmured, eyes raking up her dress. and with that, he left. Y/N was sure she was only in a lucid dream until harry had pulled her away toward the awfully familiar hallway.

wordlessly, his hand remained around her wrist as she followed without protest. his shoes clicked over the tile as he pushed open the door with a little too much force, ushering her in and slamming it shut behind him. his chest rose and fell rapidly, back leaning against the closed door.

“say something.” she pleaded, her voice shaking.

he held up his finger, shaking his head as his nostrils flared. she took the hint, quietly leaning against his desk with a pout. his digits ran through his disheveled curls, and after it felt like hours had passed, he finally looked up at her.

“harry.” she whispered, it was weak. pathetic even. and she would kick herself silly if she saw herself now in the perspective of her a week ago.

his jaw clenched so hard she thought she would see it snap with screws and coils shooting out. he mumbled something under his breath, incoherent to Y/N as he darted to his desk, causing her to move aside before he swept everything of its surface and onto the floor. “fuck!” he shouted, his cheeks red and eyes starting to gloss over. she wanted to reach out, pull him into a hug and coax him into even breaths but it wasn’t in the cards right now. “i-”he paused, it almost sounding like a whimper. he stumbled to lean against the desk, gripping the edges until his knuckles turned white.

she swallowed dryly, her shoulders having already fell. she didn’t feel scared, she didn’t think she had a reason to be afraid of harry himself. but she was worried, yes. “harry?” she repeated, almost a whisper.

he shook his head, curls falling over his eyes. the words caught in this throat from how many thoughts bounced through his head. he felt like his world took a 180 from only knowing this girl for five days, and someone noticed. he didn’t expect the guy to know exactly what was going on, but now Y/N is recognizable. a pawn, an object in his life that can be used to dangle in front of him if they saw fit. “-i can’t ease you out of this now.”

she didn’t want to cry. but the weight on her shoulders would make her if she didn’t try hard enough. she had worked so hard to prove herself at her job, and now this one groundbreaking piece for her career could be ripped out from underneath her. part of her blamed herself, he had warned her countless times. and if she had been smart, she would’ve ran for the hills at his first warning. but she wanted to know the ins and outs, but also wanted to know him. her lip betrayed her by quivering, eyes glossed over with tears. she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of humiliation at her failure.

“Y/N.” he calls out, running his hand down his face. he sighs, taking a calculated step closer to her. “Y/N,” he repeated, only softer. his much larger hand removed her own from her eyes in attempt to shield him from her tears. her cheeks were flush, eyelashes damp as he thumbed a stray tear away. he felt responsible, as if he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing - but it was the opposite.

“m’sorry.” she mumbles, eyes finally melting his. “i’ve made a mess of things.”

he chuckled softly. he wanted to audibly agree, but he knew that would make her feel worse. he took a slow step back, hands dropping from her face to her shoulders. “you’re involved.” he said lowly, his heart in his stomach.

“involved.” she repeated, nodding. she sniffled, and all she wanted to do was crawl into one of the booths out there and sleep the rest of the night away. “-you’re letting me write?” she thought out loud, fully expecting that he would’ve pushed her away. it had seemed that way earlier. “i thought it was done?”

he let out another sigh, hesitantly pulling her into a hug. his chin rested on her head, and she very slowly wrapped her arms around his waist - debating if she should. he didn’t know if falsely giving her the title of his girlfriend was the right move or not, but the man seemed to believe it. what else was he supposed to say? she’s the new bartender! not a day in hell. she wants to play here! would’ve forced an audition. she’s the journalist i’m in kahoots with! shot in the back alley. so, girlfriend she is. “m’afraid you’re stuck with me for a while.”

and Y/N wanted to be terrified. she wanted the world to flip upside down and to boil over with anxiety. she wanted to want to disappear from everything completely. but she didn’t. and all that ran through her mind was, how could it be bad if it felt so good?

three days later, harry stopped by Y/N’s apartment again, and for the first time, there was no tension, no silent storm hovering between them. she sat cross-legged on the couch, a notebook sprawled in her lap as she scribbled notes, but her eyes shot up as soon as she heard the knock. she hesitated, fingers tightening around the pen.

another knock.

she rose, padded to the door, and opened it to find harry standing there, his dark curls slightly tousled and his expression unreadable. for a moment, they just stood there, gazing at one another like strangers who had seen too much of each other’s souls, yet still didn’t know how to bridge the gap.

“morning.” he said, his voice low, almost tentative.

she stepped aside to let him in. “i wasn’t sure I’d see you again so soon.”

he shrugged, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his coat. “had a few things to clear up.” his tone was casual, but his eyes - those piercing green eyes - betrayed something deeper. a tension he wasn’t quite ready to confront. but he relaxed in her presence for the first time, melting into the apartment that smelt like black tea with honey and the morning paper.

Y/N moved back to her spot on the couch, closing her notebook as harry took a seat across from her, elbows resting on his knees. There was a comfortable silence now, one they hadn’t shared before.

“so, about the other night-” Y/N began, unsure how to dive into the complicated emotions swirling in her chest.

harry’s jaw tightened slightly, and for a moment, she thought he might brush it off like he usually did. but instead, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “i wasn’t expecting arthur to do that. i didn’t want you dragged into that world like that. it wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Y/N nodded, feeling a strange relief at his honesty. she had been waiting for him to shut her out again, to dismiss her like he had before, but instead, he seemed almost open for the first time. “arthur?”

he nodded, “his name is arthur. he’s been involved longer than i have. insanely loyal and in love with the game.” he sighed, leaning back again. though something crossed his expression, a forgotten afterthought. “i’m so sorry-” he rushed out, shaking his head. “you’re not already with someone are you? i don’t want to ruin your reputation.”

she couldn’t help but giggle, shifting onto the rug and scooting herself to sit before his bent knees. “no harry, m’not spoken for.”

he looked down at her, lips parting as he breathed her in. an innocence floated about her like an aura, but sometimes her eyes held something opposite. she was a puzzle to harry, one he wanted to find all the pieces to so badly. an airy relief washed over him, and he knew it was the thought of her not caring for anyone in that way. her eyes were slightly puffy from sleep, her skin softened and lips the perfect shade - she resembled a cherub.

she placed her hands on his knees, pulling herself up. all she wore was a dainty white lounge dress that had tiny purple flowers scattered about, thick socks covering her feet. “would you like anything to drink?”

he had stood up after her like on autopilot, following her small steps into the kitchen. “coffee?” he suggested softly, seeing the back of her head shake into a nod. the girl hummed to herself, a tune he recognized as his own as he sat down. harry couldn’t resist a smile, the soft clatter of mugs and the steady drip of the percolator accompanying her honey soaked voice. “do you take sugar?” she called out from over her shoulder, glancing back at him with a small smile.

“two, if you got it.”

she nodded once more, taking out a small glass dish and removing it’s lid, setting two cubes of sugar in the mug. she stirred it around with a small spoon, handing it to harry as she retrieved a glass bottle of milk from the fridge if he wanted it.

“thank you.” he murmured, listening to the soft clatter and creaks as she sat down across from him. he uncorked the glass bottle, allowing only a trickle or two into his coffee. he settled in his seat, happy to see that the coffee was his perfect shade of brown.

“it feels like you aren’t used to mornings like these.”

harry glanced at her, raising an eyebrow as he took a careful sip. “mornings like what?”

she simply shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. “quiet, simple. no trouble brewing over the horizon.”

he let out a soft laugh, stirring his drink a bit. “they come and go.”

they sat in a comfortable silence, a low hum of conversation easing between them. at some point, Y/N had gotten up to make herself tea, taking sips during the pauses of their voices. harry found himself sinking into the moment further, letting the usual tension that sat on his shoulders slip away. it felt like mornings in manchester before he crossed an ocean. the air was calm, his mum’s voice soft.

she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she set her empty mug down, pulling her legs into criss-cross in her chair. “you’re different when you’re like this.”

he furrowed his eyebrows, curiosity piqued. “how so?”

she bit her lip, eyes averting from harry’s as she thought. “relaxed.” she smiled gently. “it suits you.”

harry blinked, unsure of how to respond at first. he wasn’t used to being seen like this - stripped of the persona he so carefully put together - but there was something about Y/N that made him feel like he shouldn’t pretend, despite her interest in the truth. he leaned back, bicep stretch along the back of his chair. “i don’t know how to do relaxed.” he confessed, voice gentle and low.

she smiled again, pillowy and sweet as a dessert. “you’re doing it now.”

there was something about the way she looked at him - like she could see straight through all the mess, straight to who he really was. it was disarming, and he found himself leaning in just a little, his fingers brushing more deliberately against hers now. “maybe you're rubbing off on me.” he murmured, his voice teasing but laced with a sincerity he couldn't hide.

Y/N's breath hitched slightly, but her smile didn't waver, looking up at him through her lashes. "maybe that's not such a bad thing."

for a long moment, they just sat there, the space between them filled with a quiet intimacy. harry's fingers slid up her fingers and enveloped her hand into his. the touch slow, deliberate. she didn't pull away. instead, she leaned in slightly, the rounded edge of the table resting beneath her breastbone.

his heart raced in a way that felt foreign but not unwelcome. it wasn't the adrenaline of a close call or the rush of making a dangerous move. it was something delicate, slower. he wasn't sure what to do with it, but he didn't want it to end. “you’re not scared of me, are you?" he asked hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N's eyes flickered up to meet his, her expression light but sure. "no, harry. i never was.” she confessed. of course it was the truth, she had always felt pulled into him like he was the center of gravity. even when uncertainty loomed over her, a flicker of fear toward harry himself never washed over. perhaps it was natural selection, his beauty a siren call to a sailor - and she followed the melody blindly.

there was a moment of silence, heavy with unspoken feelings, before harry shifted closer to her, raising his bum off the seat ever so slightly to lean farther in.

he swallowed, his hand moving from hers to gently cup her cheek. he hesitated for a split second, searching her eyes for any hint of doubt, but all he found was the same quiet confidence she always carried.

without thinking too much, he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against her forehead. it was a simple gesture, but one that made her heart swell. she closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the warmth of his touch, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn't exist.

when he pulled back, their faces were still close, and Y/N couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips. "that wasn't so bad, was it?" she teased lightly.

harry chuckled, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. "no. I suppose not."

they stayed like that for a while, harry having adjusted the chair to round the table and sit next to her. the morning stretched lazily around them as the world outside carried on. but for now, in the quiet warmth of her apartment, everything else seemed to fade away.

before harry bid his goodbye, he left another kiss on her forehead. her shampoo smelt of strawberries and her soft strands of hair felt like velvet against his skin. “need you to join me for an event tonight.” he mumbled into her forehead, pulling away to look into her eyes. he was kneeled in front of her, one leg underneath him while the other in front. his breath smelt like coffee and the jam biscuit she had given him earlier, the familiar scent of the smoky lounge embedded in the locks of his curls.

she hummed, eyes closing as she leaned back ever so slightly. if she was that close again, she might’ve been tempted to press her lips against his. “what for?”

he swallowed, an anxious feeling threatening to creep up his chest and out his throat to word vomit all over her. but he sighed, breath warm against her face. “a colleagues house. black tie event. you were invited.”

her eyes peeled open, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched in confusion. “why?”

“think they’re testing this girlfriend theory out.” he said lowly, the palm of his hand resting upon her knee gently. “don’t believe they suspect much, but i’ll need you on my arm. will you?”

she nodded, searching his expression to look for something hidden. “only if you’ll give me more to write.”

he gave a small smile, sending her a soft nod as he patted his hand against her knee, standing up. “y’have my word.” he stated, stepping off toward the door. and he meant it, she really did have it; both as a promise and written with the ink of her pens.

that evening, Y/N stood in front of her mirror, her hands smoothing down the delicate fabric of her dress. if she had owned any dresses, it was definitely an evening gown or two. the pine green gown hugged her figure just right, the hem barely above the floor as she twirled once in front of her reflection. the neckline was that as many of the bras she owned, though a bit more conservative - only a glance of her cleavage available to the eye. the back hung loosely, draped down to the highest point of her waist. the bones and muscles in her back rippled in the light gorgeously, that in itself could be her accessory. her hair was pinned back with loose tendrils falling around her face, and her silver necklace sat at her collarbone. she didn’t often dress up like this, but tonight wasn’t just any night. harry had asked her to play a part, and she intended to do it well.

a knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts. her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly gathered herself, giving one last glance in the mirror before padding to the door. she opened it to find harry, his dark curls neatly tamed, a black suit tailored to perfection, and a bow tie hanging loosely around his neck - unfinished. he stood there for a moment, his eyes sweeping over her from head to toe, and for the first time since they’d met, she swore she saw him falter.

“wow.” he breathed, blinking as if trying to steady himself. “you’re breathtaking.”

Y/N smiled softly, feeling a warmth creep up her neck. “you don’t look too bad yourself,” she teased, gesturing to his unfinished bow tie. “though i think you need a little help.”

harry chuckled, stepping inside as he fiddled with the fabric. “never could get the hang of these things,” he muttered.

Y/N stepped closer, her fingers gently brushing his as she took over, expertly tying the bow. they stood there, inches apart, her gaze focused on the task while harry watched her intently. the air between them seemed to crackle, and for a brief moment, the world outside their little bubble ceased to exist.

“there.” she whispered, smoothing the collar of his shirt. her hands lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, her eyes flicking up to meet his. “all set.”

his gaze held hers, something unspoken passing between them. he swallowed hard, the tension from the nights before returning, but this time, it felt different - heavier, more intimate.

“ready?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded, though her heart raced in her chest. before shutting the door; she reached over to the coat rack, pulling out a black shaw to wrap around her shoulders. “ready.”

as they stepped outside and made their way down the dimly lit street, the autumn air crisp and cool against their skin, harry reached out and placed his hand on the small of her back, inches below the bare skin revealed by her dress - or lack there of. it was a simple, but the way his hand felt closer than before sent goosebumps over her skin like a tidal waves. it wasn’t just for show anymore; there was something genuine in the way he touched her, something that made her feel more grounded than she had in days.

they arrived at the event after a wave and a whistle to a taxi - a grand estate, the kind that screamed old money and exclusivity. the soft hum of jazz music filtered out into the night air as they approached, their shoes clicking softly against the cobblestone driveway. Y/N squeezed harry’s hand slightly, her nerves bubbling to the surface.

“remember,” he whispered, leaning down so only she could hear. “you’re my girl tonight. no questions. just follow m’lead.”

Y/N nodded, her resolve strengthening as she straightened her posture. she could do this. she wanted to do this. it wasn’t just about the story anymore - it was about him. the world he was caught up in, the danger he carried on his shoulders. she wasn’t going to let him bear it alone.

they stepped through the grand doors, the warm glow of chandeliers illuminating the opulent room. men in tuxedos and women in sparkling gowns mingled, the soft clink of champagne glasses and muted laughter filling the air. harry’s hand never left hers as they wove through the crowd, his grip steady and reassuring.

moving through the throng of people, harry’s demeanor shifted. he was calm, collected, every inch the confident musician with connections to powerful people. he greeted a few familiar faces, keeping Y/N close by his side, his arm occasionally resting around her waist in a way that felt both protective and possessive.

at one point, they stopped by a group of men deep in conversation. one of them, a tall man with slicked-back hair and a knowing smile, turned his attention to harry, then to Y/N. his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face.

“this must be the lovely lady we’ve heard about.” the man said smoothly, extending his hand to Y/N. “arthur’s told us quite the tale.”

harry tensed beside her, but Y/N met the man’s gaze steadily, slipping her hand into his for a brief shake. “it’s a pleasure,” she said, her voice calm despite the unease creeping up her spine.

the man’s smile widened, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “likewise. you know, we’re always curious when new faces come around. especially ones as..captivating as yours.”

harry’s grip on her waist tightened, his jaw clenching ever so slightly. “she’s with me,” he said firmly, his voice low but clear. “and that’s all you need to know.”

the man raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t press further. instead, he gave a slow nod, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a moment longer before turning back to the group. “of course. enjoy your evening.”

as they moved away from the group, harry’s tension didn’t ease. he guided her toward a quieter corner of the room, his hand still firmly on her waist, though now it felt more like a shield than a gesture of affection.

“harry.” Y/N murmured, glancing up at him. “what was that about?”

he didn’t respond immediately. he ran a hand through his curls, his eyes scanning the room. “they’re watching us,” he muttered. “arthur, the others..they’re testing me. testing us.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, but she didn’t waver. she placed a hand on his arm, grounding him, bringing him back to the present. “m’not afraid,” she whispered, her voice steady. “are you?”

harry’s gaze softened as he looked down at her, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. he placed his hand over hers, squeezing gently. “ ‘course not.”

for the rest of the evening, they stayed close, a united front in a world full of shadows and whispers. and though the stakes were high, Y/N felt a strange sense of calm wash over her.

as the night wore on, the atmosphere in the grand estate only seemed to grow heavier. the elegance and tinkling of champagne glasses became a backdrop to the undercurrent of suspicion and subtle power plays. Y/N could feel it - the tension in the air, like a taut string waiting to snap.

harry remained by her side, guiding her through the room like a chess piece he was careful not to lose. every so often, he would lean down and murmur a soft reassurance in her ear - small words meant to comfort, though they were as much for him as they were for her. when he was sure no one else could hear, he would occasionally feed her bits of information of those in the room. things she could write down later.

they drifted from one group of people to the next, exchanging pleasantries with men and women who, by all appearances, were simply enjoying a lavish evening. but she could see the way their eyes lingered too long on her, the flicker of curiosity when they spoke to Harry. she was an outsider in their world, and she knew it.

as they approached another cluster of guests, Y/N’s gaze was drawn to a tall man at the center of the group. he stood out, his dark suit impeccably tailored, and his brown locks slicked with gel gleamed in the soft glow of the chandeliers. arthur. his eyes landed on them almost immediately, a slow, calculated smile stretching across his lips as he stepped toward them.

“harry,” arthur greeted, his voice smooth but with an underlying sharpness. his gaze slid to Y/N, lingering for a beat too long before returning to harry. “and his daphne.” he winked, laced with a teasing undertone. it struck something in Y/N, like a foreboding whine on a cello vibrating in her chest. daphne. apollo. the huntress he fell in love with. a journalist ravenous for truth.

harry’s grip on Y/N’s waist tightened slightly, but he kept his voice steady. “arthur. you’ve made your introductions previously.” his tone left no room for further taunts, referring to the night before.

arthur’s smile didn’t falter. if anything, it grew more amused. “ah, yes. but i’m afraid I didn’t get the chance to know her better.” he looked at Y/N now, his sharp gaze flickering over her dress, his lips curving into a smirk. “you do make quite the striking pair. no wonder people are talking.”

she felt the weight of his words, but she didn’t waver. she offered a polite smile, her hand resting lightly on harry’s arm. “i’m afraid i don’t pay much attention to gossip.”she said, her voice calm and measured.

arthur chuckled, a low, menacing sound. “smart girl. but in this world, my dear, what people say can be just as dangerous as the truth.”

before Y/N could respond, a woman joined the group, her gaze sharp and calculating. her long, dark dress shimmered as she moved, and she carried herself with the grace of someone used to commanding a room. her blonde hair was pulled into a bun, adorned with pearls.

“arthur,” she purred, placing a hand on his arm. her eyes flicked between harry and Y/N, and a knowing smile curled her lips. “i see you’ve finally met harry’s companion. been the talk of the evening.”

he inclined his head slightly, his shoulders relaxing. “indeed, i have. a pleasure.”

Y/N could feel the weight of their scrutiny, the way they were testing her, pushing for a crack in her composure. but she kept her head high, refusing to let them see her falter. she wasn’t here just for harry’s sake - she had a job to do, a story to uncover. this world, as uncertain as it was, held the key to something much bigger than any of them.

harry, sensing the tension rising, spoke up again, his voice cool. “it’s been a lovely evening, arthur, but i think it’s time i took her for some air.”

arthur’s eyes glinted with amusement. “of course, harry. i’ll see you as the night continues.”

the was a subtle threat buried in those words, but harry didn’t take the bait. instead, he nodded curtly and gently guided Y/N away from the group, his hand firm on the small of her back.

they found a quieter corner of the grand ballroom, away from the prying eyes and sharp tongues. Y/N exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her nerves finally catching up to her.

“what was that?” she whispered, turning to harry as soon as they were out of earshot.

harry ran a hand through his curls, his expression tense. “he wants t’rattle me. but i see it in his eyes, he’s fallin’ for it. slowly.”

“and what happens if he doesn’t?” Y/N asked, her voice soft but steady.

he met her gaze, his green eyes filled with something unreadable. “he wont, dove. i won’t let that happen.”

she swallowed, feeling the weight of the evening pressing down on them - the stakes higher than she had anticipated. this wasn’t just a simple gathering of the city’s elite; it was a power play, and she was right in the middle of it.

but she wasn’t alone.

he reached for her hand, his fingers lacing through hers as he pulled her a little closer. his voice was low when he spoke again, almost too soft to hear. “y’doing so good, yeah? jus’ keep following m’lead.”

Y/N nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand steady her. his praises allowed a heat settle between her thighs as well, his cool breath a contrast that allowed her breath to hitch.

they lingered in the corner for a moment longer, the noise of the party humming in the background. Y/N could feel the weight of harry’s eyes on her, the way he seemed to be thinking about something he wasn’t ready to say. but before she could ask him what was on his mind, a familiar voice interrupted them.

“there you two are.”

Y/N turned to see louis approaching, a relaxed smile on his lips with a flute of champagne in his hand. his easy demeanor provided a brief respite from the tension that had been hanging in the air. harry’s hand loosened slightly around hers, though he didn’t let go.

“didn’t expect to see you tonight, lou,” harry greeted, his voice still holding an edge of caution though a small smile tugged the corner of his lips.

he shrugged casually, swirling his drink before taking a sip. “figured i’d pop in, someone’s gotta supply the alcohol.” his eyes flicked between the two of them, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “you two seem to be handling the attention well.”

Y/N glanced at Harry, sensing the subtle shift in his stature. he was more relaxed with louis around, but she could tell he was still nervous. it was as if he was waiting for the next move, the next subtle threat hidden behind a pleasant smile.

lou has been a friend of harry’s since arriving to america, having worked behind the bar alongside with him before the opportunity of music presented itself. louis had a kind heart with a tough exterior. he wouldn’t have expected him to be in this line of work, but louis explained it was necessary to support his family. the economy struggled, and jobs were few and far between. he’d rather risk being caught bootlegging than burning alive in a factory with a boss who couldn’t care less.

the shorter brunette raised an eyebrow, catching the tension between them. “arthur giving you a hard time?”

harry’s jaw tightened briefly before he nodded. “he’s testing the waters.”

he chuckled, shaking his head. “sounds like him. loves to push people, that one. see how far they’ll go before they crack. but don’t worry, mate. he’s all talk tonight. no one’s going t’make a scene here.”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little relieved at his words, though she still couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. the event had an air of sophistication, but beneath the polished surface, there was a current of something darker - something she was only beginning to understand.

louis set his empty glass down on a nearby table and turned to Y/N, his expression softening. “y’holding up alright? not the easiest crowd for a newcomer.”

she smiled, though she felt the evening pressing down on her. “i’m fine, really. just trying to keep up.”

he gave a small nod of approval. “you’re doing more than keeping up, love.”

harry shot lou a warning look, but he waved it off with a smirk. “relax, H. they’re impressed. they don’t know what to make of the relationship yet, but that’s good. keep ‘em guessing.”

she was in a role tonight - harry’s partner, his girlfriend as far as the others were concerned - but it was a game, and she was still figuring out the rules.

before any of them could say more, the sound of a glass being tapped echoed through the room. the buzz of conversation faded into silence, attention turning toward the center of the ballroom where arthur now stood, a drink in hand and a smug smile on his face.

“ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice commanding the attention of the room. “i’d like to make a toast. to good company, to old friends, and to the future that lies ahead of us all.”

there was a murmur of agreement as glasses were raised, but Y/N noticed the way arthur’s eyes lingered on her and harry. a smile spread across his lips, a glimmer in his brown eyes.

“to new faces,” he added, his gaze locking onto Y/N. “and to the fresh opportunities they bring with them.”

Y/N’s stomach tightened. the toast was meant for her - thinly veiled, but it was there. she could feel harry tense beside her, his fingers pressing gently into her waist. he didn’t move, but she could sense the shift in him, his calm facade now cracking under the weight of arthur’s words.

“cheers,” the brunette finished, his glass raised high as the rest of the room followed suit. the clinking of glasses filled the air, and then, just as quickly, the room returned to its previous hum of conversation and laughter.

but she could feel the change. arthur’s toast had been more than just a public greeting - it was a message. she wasn’t just a guest here anymore.

louis leaned in slightly, his voice low. “watch your back tonight, love. arthur doesn’t like loose ends.”

harry shot a pointed glance toward his friend before tugging on Y/N’s hand toward arthur’s direction. she smiled softly at lou before quickening her stride to keep up. “saying our goodbyes.” he mumbled, “we’re leaving.”

his pace was quick and purposeful as they made their way across the extravagant room. she followed closely, her pulse racing as she felt the weight of arthur’s gaze settle on them before they even reached him. it wasn’t just a casual departure - it was strategic. harry knew how to play his cards.

arthur shot them a wide grin, a knowing look flashing in his eyes. he tilted his head slightly, swirling the golden liquid in his glass with a lazy grace. “leaving already, harry? night’s still young.”

he didn’t falter, his voice calm but firm. “got t’get her home at a decent hour. just came to say goodnight.”

arthur’s eyes flicked to Y/N, his smirk lingering. “a shame. was hoping to learn more about your muse.” his words were light, but there was a distinct undertone of menace.

Y/N stood a little straighter, refusing to shrink under his gaze. she smiled politely, though the steel in her eyes matched harry’s. “m’sure we’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted in the future.”

he chuckled softly, the sound sending a chill down her spine. “i look forward to it.” he glanced back at harry, raising his glass slightly. “safe travels, old friend. see you soon.”

harry gave a sharp nod, his grip on Y/N’s hand tightening just enough to signal the need to move quickly. “of course. goodnight, arthur.”

without another word, harry guided her swiftly toward the exit. the cool night air hit them like a wave as they stepped outside, the tension in the room left behind but still clinging to their skin.

Y/N exhaled sharply, her breath visible in the cold as she glanced at harry. “what now?”

he ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched as he looked down the dimly lit street. “take y’home and help you write.”

she nodded, hoping to shake off the lingering unease that wrapped around her like a shroud. “do you think he’ll try anything?” she paused, glancing up at him. “he seemed interested.”

he held onto her hand, guiding her down the long driveway and to the sidewalk. “interested in you, yes. but it’s more about power for him. wants to see how far he can push, wants to have an aspect of control over me to keep me from leaving. i don’t think he knows.”

as they walked down the neighborhood to meet the main road, he kept a pace brisk. his fingers were still interlocked with hers as if anchoring them both. once turning a corner and being met with the lights of the city, harry waved down another taxi to bring them back to her apartment. the ride was quiet, the low buzz of a radio echoed a host’s incoherent words along with the sounds of the tires against the road. he guided her up the steps of the complex after being dropped off, reaching for the keys she had told him to hold onto and allowing the door to open.

hey both settled in at the coffee table, shoes having already been taken off but they still resided in the evening’s attire. harry softly told Y/N things to write down, her hands flicking out the prettiest handwriting he’s ever seen. “i still feel guilty.” she murmured, continuing her movements. “for making your life more difficult.”

he shook his head, softly placing his hand across her paper to stop her writing. “nonsense.” his tone was soft, but firm. sincerity. he sighed, pulling her soft, cold hand into his. the pen rolled off the edge of the notebook, falling onto the rug. “arthur has a way of getting in someone’s head, makin’ them doubt themselves.” he paused, thumbing gentle circles on the back of her hand. “but s’nothing. i know you’re smarter than his antics.”

she nodded, her cheeks turning a tinge of pink. his touch was soft and electrifying all at once, a rubber band stretching in her belly threatening to snap. the grip on her hand went loose, his lips parting ever so slightly. her hair was down, having taken out the clip once she walked through the door. the sight of her sitting on her heels across the small table was a teasing in it of itself. his chest tightened as he let go of her hand, scooting around the coffee table to sit beside her. her perfume was light and floral, and when he noticed her chest start to rise and fall more hastily he felt himself twitch. “Y/N..” he trailed off, voice barely above a whisper. he kept his hands on the table, nervous to act on the thoughts that bounced around his head.

the pads of her fingertips trailed along the fluffy rug until she reached his thigh, her touch light and meticulous against him. “harry.” she whispered, almost breathless. “can we still pretend?”

his hand met hers before he gripped her wrists lightly, halting her movements all together. “pretend?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. of course he knew what she meant, but watching her cheeks blush into a darker shade of pink made his pulse quicken. “pretend you’re still mine?”

she nodded sheepishly, a heat pooling between her thighs pathetically. she wriggled her wrist in his grasp, her lips in a slight pout. “treat me like your girl.” she pleaded quietly. “just for a while longer.”

harry hesitated, eyes burrowing into hers like he was searching for answers. her eyebrows furrowed with need, eyes clouded with a desperation that pulled harry away from her eyes. he tugged on her wrist, gently pulling her into him as she tried to scoot her bum across the space between them simultaneously.

he cupped her cheek with his other hand, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that sent her heart racing. she melted into him, the kiss deepening as he maneuvered her wrist-in-hand to his lap, bounding her to him. the warmth of his body against hers ignited a fire within her, and she felt herself yearning for more. he bunched her grown above her knees ever so slightly as he pulled her onto him, his large hands kneading the flesh of her bum as his tongue swiped past her lips, brushing hers.

with a sudden shift, harry broke the kiss and guided her to sit on the sofa, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. "relax, sweet girl.” he murmured, hands trailing up her soft legs and dragging her dress back up along with it.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as he settled between her legs, trailing gentle kisses from her knee, up her inner thigh until he could see the thin fabric of her panties clinging to her wet cunt. his hands looped around her thighs and spread them apart. the cool air against her skin sent shivers through her body, heightening her senses. she leaned back against the sofa, her heart pounding in more places than her chest. "harry," she gasped, her hands tangling in his hair hesitantly as he continued his exploration, his mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake. the anticipation built within her, and she could feel herself aching for his touch. she knew what was he was intending to do, though she’s never felt it before. she lost her virginity in high school, but only heard the idea of a man’s face between her folds through her best friend. she believed it to be a fantasy, only existing behind her eyelids as she fingered herself underneath the covers - until now.

"just a taste" he mumbled, his voice low and sultry, but it sounded as if he was talking to himself. his lips grazed over the wet spot of the fabric, the gasps that fell from her lips melodic, and he wondered if he could mimic the melody on his guitar. his thumb grazed up her covered folds, pressing down on her clit hidden between. she hissed, his fingers finding themselves looped around her underwear, pulling them down in a swift movement. he bunched up her dress a bit more, nearing her core as he gazed up at her through his eyelashes, an eager grin on his lips before he pressed a soft kiss against her most sensitive spot. his breath was hot against her, hands gripping the place where her hips and thighs met. his lips brushed over her folds before he spoke, “y’trust me, Y/N?”

her fingers remained threaded in his curls while she nodded feverishly, which only earned a tsk from harry. he placed a few kisses on her inner thigh and around her folds, the girl squirming underneath his hold. “my girl would use her words.” he taunted gently. he inched closer to her core as she whimpered multiple pleases. the sensation was foreign and electrifying, a shiver cascading down her body.

he placed a tentative kiss on her bud to get a feel for her sensitivity. her back arched involuntarily as she tried to pull his face closer to her dripping cunt. he responded eagerly, tongue flicking out to taste her - a jolt of pleasure shooting through her. his lips enveloped her clit, sucking and lapping like it was the best flavored lollipop in the local candy shop. although he only promised a taste, he would go against his word - already addicted to the way she felt against his mouth. “this okay?” he asked against her, keeping his movements the same until she answered.

“yes-” she whimpered, riding her hips against his face. “more, H. please.” she breathed, desperate for his movements to continue. the sensation wasn’t anything compared to her fingers - intimate and raw, filled with a heat that threatened to consume her.

his tongue flicked hungrily as he explored her with deliberate care. he licked and sucked, tongue swirling in ways that made the coil in her belly tighten. she bucked her hips against him, strings of desperate moans falling from her parted lips. nothing existed outside of this moment, including the neighbors behind thin walls. she cried out profanities that mixed in with his name, harry continuing his assault on her cunt. the knot in her tummy tightened, threatening to release - but she didn’t want it to end just yet. his mouth was ecstasy against her, and she wanted to ride out this high as long as she could. he didn’t rush, his tongue moving in slow languid strokes. his left hand trailed softly down her leg, his thick fingers sitting at her her entrance before he slowly pushed two in, feeling her walls clench tightly around him.

he couldn’t stifle the small groan that escaped him, reverberating against her pussy as he flicked the tips of his fingers upward. he leaves sloppy kisses around her thighs while his thumb encircles her clit greedily, watching the sight before him as if it was the first colored film with clear audio. “har-“ she moaned, having trouble forming coherent words. “m’gonna-“

“y’gonna what?” he asked lowly, quickening his place. “tell me, dove.”

her moans were messy, getting louder as she nears her release. he removes his hand, gripping onto her hips again and pulling her flush against his face. she could feel the tension coiling in her core, the pleasure mounting in a way that was both overwhelming and intoxicating.

she was on the edge, teetering on a precipice she had never experienced before, and harry seemed to know it. he slowed down, drawing out every moment, savoring her reactions, until Y/N couldn't take it anymore. her back arched, her hands gripping the sofa as her body gave in, the pleasure crashing over her like a wave.

her body trembled, every nerve alight as she rode out the overwhelming sensation, harry's touch steady and grounding. his mouth never left her core, lapping at her as he drank in every drop of her release. and when the waves of pleasure finally subsided, she collapsed back against the cushions, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

harry lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he climbed back up, resting beside her. his lips and chin glistened with the remnants of their passion, placing a gentle kiss atop her head.

once the tremors subsided, he stood up in a fluid movement, taking her hand into his as he gently pulled her up from the couch, guiding her to the open bedroom. he helped her sit on the edge of the bed, combing his fingers through her disheveled hair. “y’clothes in the dresser, dove?” he almost cooed, to which he earned a nod. he crossed over to the dresser with flowers etched into the wooden surface. he pulled out a thin, white nightgown, helping Y/N out of her dress to slip the gown over her head with care.

he leaned over the bed as he helped her get into the spot against the wall, tucking her blankets her frame. before he could step away, her fingers caught his, her expression weary and but wanting. “pretend a while longer?” she frowned, “don’t go.” she pleaded, fingers slipping from his as she patted the spot beside her.

“y’want me to sleep here?” he thought out loud, his gaze tender as it lingered on her. “y’sure?”

she only nodded as harry began to shrug off the blazer, undoing his belt that hugged his slacks around him. his fingers struggled with the bow tie, a sigh falling from his lips as he put a knee on the bed, leaning over with a small smile. “requires your assistance.”

she giggles quietly, undoing the bow tie before he pulled away and stripped down to his boxers. the moth on his abdomen fluttered with every breath as he slipped into the spot beside her, head resting flat against the pillow as she pulled herself into his side, draping an arm lazily around his torso, head on his shoulder. “thank you f’today.” he mumbled, tracing slow patterns along her back through the fabric of the nightgown.

she hummed, eyelids heavy as her breathing slowed. she listened to his heartbeat, the warmth of his skin a perfect contrast to the coolness of the blankets. it felt like heaven against her. she drifted further into slumber as she parted her lips, whispering out, “thank you for everything.”

195 notes · View notes

naffeclipse · 5 months ago

Text

Desert Light

Cryptid Sightings/Signs of Life Crossover

Commission Info

My dear friend @jackofallrabbits commissioned me for a darling little crossover of Cryptid Sightings and their fic, Signs of Life, with @maudiemoods's permission, of course. If you haven't read Signs of Life, you really should and you can find it right here! I had so much fun writing both the cryptid hunter and the scientist interacting, and both monster boys are delightful here! I hope you enjoy <3

———

At nightfall, the desert is dipped in inky blues under a starry sky spilling over the entire expansion over your head. You forget how big the desert feels without trees or mountains to cut into its horizon as if the very heavens are staring down at you with twinkling eyes. The dry ground becomes darkness littered with muted sagebrush. The road is cracked and sunbleached, rocking your dark green truck and airstream. Along the lonely stretch of road, a convenience store with fluorescent lights cuts through emptiness like an oasis of gasoline, candy bars, and potato chips.

Moon hunches low in the passenger seat. Pale eyes gaze at you through the dimness within the truck's cabin. Patches along his nightcap catch on stray starlight, winking on the stitches you sewed by hand.

“It’s late,” he rasps in a low voice.

“I know, sweetie,” you sigh and rub your eyes while keeping one hand on the wheel. “We’re almost there.”

“You’re tired.” His hand strays across the seat to rest on your leg. His cool digits jolt you gently back to alertness.

“It’s only half an hour more,” you give ruefully. “Let’s stop here. I’ll grab a soda then we’ll be on our way.”

He grumbles, vibrating his animatronic vessel with displeasure. A word against caffeine is surely on his tongue, but the jostling from pulling the truck and airstream onto the cracked pavement underneath the almost neon-white light of the gas pumps cuts him short.

The desert hosts paranormal encounters ranging from the chupacabra to aliens. The latter is why you ventured here. Without F.E.I. providing you exact intel and evidence, it’s up to you to conduct your research and discover possible sightings but what you’ve unearthed so far has been solid.

This one in particular speaks of an alien. A towering but thin, long-limbed being spotted around a motel just as remote and lonely as this convenience store. You throw the truck in park and hop out. A lone car is parked alongside the building and another is parked further away, as if trying to hide away from the lights.

Soundlessly behind you, despite the bells tied around his wrists with ribbons, Moon appears like a metallic shadow. Hopefully, the convenience store attendant isn’t against animatronics in their store. He tilts his head for a moment towards the outermost vehicle, his pale optics narrowing before he follows after you.

If he sensed a heartbeat hiding in the darkness, he would have told you.

You pull open the door with a quiet jingle announcing your entrance. A small sign, old and worn, on the checkout counter promises the attendant will be back in a few. You deflate slightly. You had hoped to ask someone in this area about the sightings.

“There’s someone here,” Moon murmurs close to your ear like a breath from a ghost.

Quiet footsteps echo back beside the fridge section of drinks, concealed by shelves of beef jerky, peanut butter cookies, and chocolate bars. Curious, you strive forward. You might still have a chance to speak to the lone employee who may be restocking the cases of beer or soda, but when you round the corner with a cool presence at your back, you stop still.

A person straightens, clutching a few water bottles to their chest, their eyes immediately landing on you, framed in glasses. You look down to the hoodie they wear: dark fabric with a green alien face; a charming, stereotypical depiction of extraterrestrials. Do they sell those here?

“I like your hoodie.” You smile. “Do you work here?”

The person immediately fixes their glasses and beams. “Thank you. It’s a bit too warm for this climate but it’s cute. No, I don’t work here. Is that an animatronic with you?”

You blink but turn back to allow Moon more of an audience with the curious stranger. He regards them with a coolness but no malice. You give a slow nod.

“This is my friend, Moon.”

The stranger steps closer, studying him with vim and vigor before adjusting the many water bottles in their arms. Underneath their arm, tucked into their armpit is a notebook. They lift a hand towards Moon.

“What model are you?” they ask, eager. “How long have you gone without maintenance? Your wires are exposed and your endoskeleton could use a polish.”

Moon stares. A slight twitch runs through his limbs. You step back between Moon and the stranger, your pulse jumping slightly at the spew of questions—many that have no good answers. Could they be familiar with where Eclipse found their half-burned, abandoned vessel?

You introduce yourself quickly, keeping Moon behind you and out of reach of the stranger. “What’s your name?”

They slowly lower their hand, disappointed. “Ah.” They’re silent for a moment, and you can see the gears working in their mind before decidedly saying, “You can call me Doc.”

That’s funny. Surely it must be a nickname though you have no qualms with a stranger giving you whatever moniker they please, but Moon’s hand falls to your shoulder. His digits curl slightly over your collarbone, as if in warning. Right.

“Alright. Doc,” you smile.

They smile back. “Is your animatronic—”

“I’m sorry,” you say, very apologetically but firmly, “but I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about happenings in this area.”

Doc grows still, their expression guarded. You catch their eyes flickering towards the door and then landing back on you.

“What are you referring to exactly?” they ask tentatively, almost nervously.

“There have been reports of unusual occurrences in this part of Nevada.” You wish you bought your book of cryptid information with you. If they’ve seen anything, you will need to write it down. Instead, you focus on slowly bringing them into your question. If you went around asking any person if they saw aliens right off the bat, no one would take you seriously. “Have you seen anything strange or simply unexplainable?”

“UFO sightings in Nevada are very common,” they say so bluntly, it causes you to blink. They set the water bottles down on a shelf occupied with chip bags and shift the notebook closer to their chest, holding it like a shield. “Did you know that Nevada has the highest rate of UFO sightings per capita in the U.S.?”

“I did know that,” you say, impressed that they know it as well. You lean closer in your curiosity. Do they believe in cryptids? “Have you researched such things before?”

They fix their glasses and lower their hand back to their book only to lift it again and fidget.

“Recently I have,” they admit.

A coolness radiates behind you. In the corner of your vision, Moon tilts his head. The bell on the end of his nightcap falls over his shoulder. What doesn’t he like? Surely they can’t be a rulebreaker. Moon would have reacted much less pleasantly to such a person.

They touch their glasses again, and the frames fall slightly askew on their face. “Have you heard anything about an alien?”

You brighten with the question. At last.

“Yes. That’s why I’m here,” you hold a hand to your chest, “to locate any confirmation or evidence about an alien sighting near a motel a little ways from here. Nothing has been reported as violent, but it’s most likely an incident will occur soon unless properly dealt with.”

Their hands furl and unfurl, anxiously touching their glasses, pushing them up the bridge of their nose, and shifting. Are they alright?

“Most of the time sightings of cryptids, including aliens, are just everyday objects seen from a weird angle,” they ramble slightly.

You pause, watching them. Are they afraid to tell you what they saw? You’ve encountered poor, terrified people who fear even speaking a word of what they’ve experienced will mark them as unstable and insane. Even worse, it might somehow lure the presence that frightened them in the first place back.

“Yes, that’s true,” you admit, but only half of the time. There have been a plethora of hoaxes, pranks, misunderstandings, and of course, misidentifications of objects that have been spun into debunking the cryptic world, but you carry the scars from a true encounter at the base of your thumb. “But have you witnessed anything you would consider to be unearthly?”

Do they know something they can’t seem to tell you about?

Doc shifts again. Their hand strays to the notebook they carry, and touch the well-worn spine. Is it as important to them as your cryptid book is to you?

“No,” they fidget a few times anxiously, “Is there anything I can do to help you with your animatronic? I am an engineer.”

Moon twitches behind you. Their eyes immediately fall to the movement and frown.

“Are you experiencing a malfunction?” they ask, and start to reach out again. Moon clenches your shoulder tighter.

“No, no!” You hold up your hands defensively. “That’s very generous to offer, but Moon is fine, thank you.”

They frown. Unconvinced, they continue to pry around your person to stare at the cryptid possessing a vessel. You’ve never had this problem before. So many people are put off by the strange, inexplicable presence of a demonic cryptid—a sixth sense warning of danger, but Doc heeds no such deterrents.

“He is experiencing micro spasms which may be a symptom of a conduction failure in his wires or a deeper issue within his processor.” They face Moon entirely, and he stares back unblinkingly. “When was the last time you went in for routine maintenance?”

“We don’t need maintenance,” he rasps. You cover his hand as it clenches you tighter still. A coolness swells around him and you hope Doc mistakes it for the coolness of the fridges.

Confusion twists their brow. Doc parts their lips to offer a rebuttal to a clear inconsistency with their framework and the fact of the matter, but Moon twists behind you. His grip never leaves your shoulder, his fingers digging into your collarbone as the jingle of the bell at the front of the store rings.

Then the lights flicker. A sharp fade of every light bulb overhead and even the light within the fridges drops the convenience store into darkness. Your heart tumbles in your chest. You didn’t bring your crossbow or your detector. Only a knife sits strapped to your hip, hidden by your patched, green jacket.

Your eyes flash to Doc. You take them by the arm and their expression shifts to alarm behind their glasses.

“Move,” you whisper sharply. “Stay with me and be quiet.”

“I need to leave,” they say, strangely focused, but they don’t struggle when you guide them down the row of fridges to the last column of shelves in the back of the store. They don’t understand. Something else is here. Something not of this world. You must protect them from it.

Moon follows quietly behind you, his fingers spasming as they curl like claws. His pale eyes dip into crimson, alert and vicious.

“Not a heart,” he mutters, and you glance at him. “Something else… Something strange.”

He stands between you, and your entire body clenches. A towering being begins to prowl under the flicker lights, slipping in through the door. You used to fear your dear friend placing themselves between you and the threat, but they are far more terrifying than any cryptid you have hunted.

The sharp contrast of the fluorescent light bulbs and the sudden darkness spears a sharp ache into your eyes. Carefully, you place Doc behind you, but they offer another protest again.

“Be quiet,” you murmur firmly, “It’s going to be okay.”

“Ah, you don’t understand.” Doc’s eyes fall past you, towards the frosty doors of the fridges. “He’s—”

A sharp scratch of nails cutting over glass causes your shoulders to hunch up and a grimace to twist your face. You free the knife from your hip. It is the only defense you have for you and Doc. You should have been prepared for the alien to strike here, so close to the original sighting site, now creeping in close to find more precious victims to devour.

Doc reaches out, past you.

“You have to let me pass,” they say calmly. “He wants me.”

You turn to look over your shoulder, confusion painting you in flickering lights.

“Who does?” you ask.

The glass scratching stops. You stiffen, reading your knife as Moon tenses. Creeping from the row of fridges, a figure straightens. Tall and spindly, but with an unnerving aura of strength to his long limbs, an alien stands before you. Deep red and galaxy-speckled skin coats him, and you catch a strange symbol on one of his hands, like the moon eclipsing the sun. A dark hoodie with an alien ship covers his lanky form poorly—not unlike Doc’s. A sharp crown of jutting adornments sits upon his head. A waving veil of starlight falls behind his skull.

His three eyes, bright and glinting, like a predator about to bounce, immediately find the person behind you. One eye is dark. His grin splits into a wide, hungry thing with razor-sharp teeth.

“My light,” his voice is low and dangerous, “I have been waiting for you.”

Behind you, Doc looks up at the towering, otherworldly beast, but there is no fear in their eyes.

“Stay back,” you immediately brandish your knife. Moon spreads his arm, ensuring that there is no passing him without going through him.

A dark chuckle falls from the creature.

“You dare think you can keep my light from me?” He spreads his arms, four limbs of sinew and bone, claws flashing with a desire to rip flesh from a body. “I will give you one chance to let my light go.”

Moon stands tall between him, silently gauging him like a proper opponent. Is the alien taller than your sweetie in their true form? You’re afraid he is.

“No,” you breathe, “You’re not taking them.”

A soft sound arises behind you, distress mingling with breath. Doc must be terrified of the abrupt encounter. How could they have ever known an alien would mark them as his quarry?

A snarl rips through his chest, deep and vicious. His hands grope the surrounding shelves, fitting between cookies and candy bars. His hand swipes a few basic camping supplies, spilling ropes and canisters onto the ground. He catches a stainless steel one in his lower set of hands. In effortless brutality, the alien concaves the metal before his claws pierce the container entirely, crumpling it as if it were a soda can. Your gut clenches.

“I will paint this tasteless floor in your blood,” the extraterrestrial growls, gnashing his teeth.

In response, a sharpness erupts from the sides of Moon’s chassis. Shadowy appendages, seeping black ooze over bony limbs with hands and claws of crimson, stand at the ready. You suck in a sharp breath.

“You will not touch a hair on our heart’s head,” an abysmal sound leaves the animatronic, layered and demonic.

The alien tilts his head, eyes widening at the challenge.

“My, my, and what are you? No matter, I will tear you apart.” He laughs again, echoing with chilling amusement. Dread hooks deep into your belly.

“Eclipse, it’s okay.” Doc moves underneath your arm.

Your knee-jerk reaction is fierce. You catch them by the back of their hoodie, scrunching fabric in your fist to keep them tethered close to you. They stop and look back at you. When they smile, it’s heavy. Guilt touches their edges, anchored by worry.

“Ah. I know he’s frightening, but he’s not going to hurt anyone.” They tug on their hoodie, trying to loosen your grip. “You can let me go.”

“Yes, let them go,” the alien licks a dark tongue over his teeth, “and I might spare you all.”

“What—no, he’s…” you stumble over your tongue then stop, confused. “Do you know this cryptid?”

“Ah. Alien,” they correct you. “Yes. Eclipse would like me back now, please.”

Moon glances at Doc. Confusion pulses in his crimson gaze. The end of his nightcap falls over his shoulder.

“They’re not afraid,” he rasps. He stares down at Doc’s chest. He can sense a heartbeat, the rhythm of it, and how fast it gallops in a person’s chest.

Your lips part wordlessly.

There was a time when you believed cryptids were only monsters. Machines capable of great destruction and horror. You never dreamed a demonic cryptid would be capable of kindness and goodness, and care so much for little ones.

Your fingers slip from the fabric. Moon allows Doc to sweep underneath his arms. Their eyes fall to their shadowy limbs, and their hands shift to their notebook. Your heart clenches, caught in the camaraderie urge to take notes of your sweetie’s true form and fearing what Doc would do with such information. F.E.I. is still out there. There are other cryptid hunters.

But they stop themselves. Fixing their glasses, they quickly step back into the alien’s reach. You clench the knife tighter, afraid as four pairs of hands descend upon them.

“We need to leave quickly,” Doc says as the alien kneels and hunches lower to look over the human, combing for harm or mistreatment. “We’ve already made a mess and stayed here for too long.”

“This isn’t a mess. Yet,” the alien answers, his voice murmuring like a lover in the night. The threat is not lost on you as Moon growls a warning. The alien flashes a smug smile, all teeth, and arrogance before he concludes his checkup on Doc. “Let’s go, my light.”

Doc nervously looks back at you, almost as if they would look to say more, explain, or even ask you about Moon’s extra, shadowy arms. Instead, they weakly wave, like this is a goodbye they wish didn’t have to happen.

The alien lifts them into his arms as if they weighed as much as a feather.

“Wait,” you step closer. Two arms, one metallic and blue, one shadowy and crimson, stop you. He keeps you back from the otherworldly being. “Are you safe?”

The alien scowls at you. Doc only smiles softly.

“Yes, friend.” Their eyes linger on Moon. “You’re so impressive. I would love to know more about you.”

A ripple of what you think is jealousy takes over the alien. He turns away with a flash of teeth, and steps quickly, sweeping through the store and out the door with a sharp jingle. In moments, the alien carries the small human out into the night. You stand there, stunned.

Moon straightens. “Their heart is still steady. They feel safe with him.”

Oh.

Moon slowly faces you, two arms touching your sides and holding you close. You lean into his embrace.

“I hope they are,” you murmur. The lights stop flickering in the gas station and the stars outside shine brighter in the darkness. A car speeds away, down the desert road.

#naff's writing commissions #cryptid sightings #signs of life #cryptid!eclipse #alien!eclipse #these two y/ns are friends btw #sources: dude trust me #naff writing

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pidgedee · 2 years ago

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BEHOLD!! the party!

more info about this au under the cut because i love it So Much

first of all, you can read what i’ve written of this au here on ao3! it’s only backstory oneshots rn, but i do have a whole timeline plotted out that i’d love to keep chipping away at. but it’s taking me forever so here’s a little summary w some spoilers!

basically:

- tommy and wilbur meet when tommy is this twelve year old scruffy little street kid and wilbur is a traveling charlatan bard. tommy steals from him. wilbur casts hold person and goes “hey you fucker give me my goddamn wallet” and tommy goes 🤩 “ok but only if you show me how to do that” and because wilbur is easily manipulated by tommy’s charming street urchin ways, he agrees. and now they’re literal crime boys and travel together stealing and conning As Brothers <3

- tubbo was raised by a cult that believes he’s a prophesied savior, so tubbo ALSO believes he’s a prophesied savior. scott smajor is a divination wizard and part of the cult. one day some stranger wanders into the cult, realizes Oh My God This Cult Is Raising A Kidnapped Child, gets in over his head, murders a cult member (not scott smajor), and causes such a ruckus that tubbo gets kidnapped 2 electric boogaloo by a surviving cult member (this time it is scott smajor). a chaotic and bloody series of events ends with tubbo completely alone in the world and not sure where to go. luckily, there’s a certain bard-rogue duo to swoop him up and pull him into their party!

- quackity is Not a warlock no really guys seriously he’s just some guy. he’s just some guy who once accidentally wandered into a cult and murdered one of the cult members (they had it coming ok) and then sold his heart to a devil who, uh, took out the entire cult after that. we connecting the dots here? yeah. when quackity meets the rest of the gang, he and tubbo stand there spiderman meme pointing at each other but in Total Secret because neither of them are eager to reveal their backstories yet. tubbo kind of hates quackity. quackity does not know what to think of tubbo. it’s fun.

i’m cutting myself off here so i don’t ramble forever but IVE ALSO DONE SO MUCH WORLDBUILDING specifically regarding religion in this au. Ask Me About My D&D AU Pantheon

#dream smp #dsmp #quackity #tubbo #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #dnd au

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a-twistedheartslonging · 9 months ago

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Hiii, Harpy anon again.

I have more thoughts. Instead of making Idia a dog boy, I say we make him an insect. Mostly because there are some insects out there that just make sense for him. (Also because he kinda look like bug to me tbh)

For example, spiders. (Yes I know they aren't insects but they look insects and that's all that matters) Spiders specifically have a lot of significance in Greek mythology, so it would make sense for Idia (who is based off a Greek god) to have some kind of connection there. But also spiders tend to be solitary creatures, they don't live in groups and only come together during mating. And a lot of the time, during mating the males are killed by their female mates. Which..I feel like is why Idia would avoid Yuu like the plague. Because all he can think about near them is "Mate.Mate.Mate.Mate.MATE-" and he's scared if he tries anything he'll get killed immediately.

Now I don't know if we've talked about Ortho yet but I feel like he's a little robot bee. I know it doesn't really go with spider Idia but Robot bee Ortho would be so gosh darn cute. There was a study done on bee's that came to the conclusion that when bee's bump into eachother they make a little "Whoop" noise. IMAGINE BUMPING INTO BEE ORTHO AND HE JUST GOES "Whoop!"

AGSJSGAHSVSS

Ahem, sorry got carried away there for a sec. Bee's are also very protected of their hive and other bees in said hive, so I can't help but imagine if Yuu gets picked on Ortho immediately just pulls out the laser beams. Bee's can also smell fear. Giving bee Ortho this trait is like giving a toddler a glock and telling them to go do a crime. It is both horrifying and hilarious at the same time.

Robot Bee Boy.

BeeBot that makes cute noises when bumping into things.

So very cute. I don't have much to add to that except look at this cute bee butt.

Now...spooder Idia...

Did anyone else see Kar'niss from Baldr's Gate 3 and thought he was hella fine?

What kind of spider would he be? If he's one of the fluffy kinds I love the idea of his floof matching his hair. Would he have multiple eyes? Fangs on top of having those already pointy teethies?

Did you know an interesting thing that bee's and some spiders have in common his helping with pollinating plants?

Hmm drider's are usually big and people in general already don't like regular spiders very much. Poor Idia is just going to keep getting more reasons to not leave his room. 😔Oh Jeez Jamil would prob freak out seeing him.

Man, Idia and Azul have it bad. For females of both of their kind if they don't kill you after sex cuz doing the diddly works up an appetite, they might kill males that they simply rejected...or just because they got too close.

Another thing that both male octopuses and spiders have been shown to do to lower the risk is present their possible mate with food. Azul's an amazing cook with his own restaurant and Idia has a surplus of every kind of snack/junk food you can think of so at least they have that going.

Still, I would like to think that even if that happens with their kind in that world it's not nearly as bad or quite as common. Funny though to think of Idia screeching when he sees you and tossing a few bags of gummies and chips at you.

Also....to avoid getting eaten after sex some male spiders will actually tie the female up in his web and set her free after. Do with that info what you will.

Some spiders also do a mating dance, but you have a snowball's chance in hell of seeing him do that.

Still, it's just more things that get these types of nonhuman boys thinking that you the little would be the best choice when it comes to finding a mate. AMAB? Cool. AFAB? Well, human ones don't cannibalize so it's all good....well once the guys learned that they don't.

Plus, once he gets to actually know you and see how you're the least threatening thing in the school things will be easier.

Once he's comfortable around you get to see something amazing...

That he's a snarky little shit with so much sass. He's a weird combination of having issues with self-loathing while also having an ego.

One time you tried to bite him for mouthing off and he was legit scared for a sec but once he saw those little teeth of yours couldn't even make a scratch on the exoskeleton on his arm, he gets super freaking smug, and now he's even more of a shit when teasing you.

One of the cool things is that you can legit ride him places cuz he big spooder. It's too bad it rarely if ever happens with being a shut in.

He'll still let you sit on him like that when you guys are in his room.

A cool thing he can do is climb on walls and ceilings, does it often when trying to sneak to the vending machines on campus without being seen. He has unfortunately been seen once or twice though and it scared the hell out of the poor student to see a giant freaking spider on the ceiling and almost made Idia drop his snacks.

His webs are pretty and glowy, he kind of has them around his room set up like fairy light.

Weird fact, spiders can taste with their feet.

Cute fact, some spiders will keep a frog as a pet. Frog helps keep the spider's eggs from getting eaten and the spider protects the frog from other things.

I'm kind of picturing Idia as the spider and you as the frog. You are his emotional support human that he keeps close when he has to leave his lair.

He unintentionally gives you scary dog privileges.

Imagine working your shift at Twisted McDonald and a little human comes up to you with this big-ass sharp-toothed spider dude behind them, you are scared out of your mind but then the human says "Excuse me, he asked for no pickles."

#spiders #spider #bug #bugs #drider #bee #twst #nonhuman au #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #suggestive #asks #ask #idia shroud #twisted wonderland idia #twst idia #ortho shroud

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wisteriagoesvroom · 4 months ago

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LOL I can imagine for vampire au Lando starting to third wheel Carcar and so even though turning Franco is a complete accident he can’t feel too guilty bc he uses it as an excuse to hang around someone else, and somehow he learns more about vampirism lore through a human grad student than he’s learned in his whole life (he’s lived a long time, lots of info to absorb). Then also, if you don’t mind my ask, what do they all do for jobs/how do they get money and would Franco keep studying ?

HELP this is so cute. ok. norpinto-frando vampire au for those who aren't up to speed...

Lando starting to third wheel Carcar and so even though turning Franco is a complete accident, [Lando] can’t feel too guilty bc he uses it as an excuse to hang around someone else -> screaming cus, absolutely. random associated headcanons for this... i'll rewind a bit:

carlos is the oldest vampire, like, moorish/medieval era. he met lando while they were both at a masquerade ball in the early 1600s and smelled each other right away (carlos like wood and ink, lando like gas lamps and wet stone).

lando is an tudor era vampire. like he actually knew shakespeare and said he was one of the best viral marketers of the era

oscar was turned in the early days of the australian penal colony, he's like first or second generation white australian but he refuses to be called british. he moved in to the house because the rent was cheap and he doesn't feel the need to live extravagantly -- even though he, too, is $$ loaded $$

oscar didn't move in until about two decades ago - very short by vampire standards, to them it feels like yesterday - but carlos and oscar are basically They Were Roommates atp even though they squabble con-stant-ly

their neighbours think they are a new age-y polyam group but because the people who live opposite them are students, nobody ever hangs around longer than a year to remember them or dig deeper

so franco definitely brings a fun funky fresh dynamic

he learns more about vampirism lore through a human grad student than he’s learned in his whole life (he’s lived a long time, lots of info to absorb) -> things that baby vamp!franco teaches lando include

tiktok trends, like how to make ur teeth comically large in photos. lando finds this hilarious

how to use venmo

creating a roster on google docs for who needs to do what house chores

jailbreaking an apple watch so it doesn't read their pulses (they don't have any), but it will remind them of the moon phases and when they might be extra hungry to feed

at one point franco actually puts his academic skills to use and helps lando hunt down some of his family tree, because since lando was turned and it's been so long, he doesn't remember much about them : ( so one of franco's little gifts to lando is helping him trace his heritage

what do they all do for jobs/how do they get money and would Franco keep studying ? -> i love how practical-minded you are. um well let's say this fictional supernatural creatures' market mostly runs on barter trades and goodwill agreements. the entire house sometimes just gets lazy tbh so lando or carlos will just dig into one of the old chests of random shit and pull out an antique and go: "do we think this is worth anything?" then they take it to an antiques dealer who is also a mage (alex albon) and there is a 1 in 25 chance that the antique is actually is worth something, so that bankrolls them for another half a year or whatever.

carlos makes a lot of noise about being "an art dealer" just because he sold a goya painting to a museum once.

oscar is a man of industry, of the "newer" world (australia) etc etc so he spent the 80s and 90s learning C++ and Java and Python so he legit just codes for a living. or when he feels like it. oscar has helped launch at least a dozen startups under various pseudonyms and one of them is even a blue chip company by now. he doesn't do it for money tho. he just does it cus he likes a challenge, and otherwise fights with carlos too much. when he isn't coding he likes to tinker and fix things just for fun. like, he legit knows how to fix a boiler and stuff. his familiar is definitely a grumpy orange neighbourhood cat.

franco keeps studying!! he is such a nerd that he's like "i can totally learn everything about anything now, and i could in theory do like 20 masters degrees, and nobody can stop me"!! then lando is like, "well you might get bored of it after a while or burn out". but franco insists he will not. in fact with his enhanced neurological abilities he goes on an academic bender trying to fast forward through an entire harvard's undergrad degree's worth of material in a week, and he ends up faceplanting on his desk. and then poor lando has to go and find a fresh chicken or something to kill and revive franco 'cus franco wore himself out too fast being a bb vampire with accelerated mind powers.

franco promises never to do that again (but of course he will continue to do it once in a while, and everyone still looks after him in his lil study hangovers because he is so very nice. also he taught them how to use venmo.)

and. one time. franco is like. "i can't find this rare sonnet do you know what library i could maybe locate it in" and lando is like "wait i know that one" and pulls out an honest to god original copy that he at some point got laminated in the early 80s. and franco is like. "um i think this should be in a museum??" and lando is like "yeah but i gave them a copy of this, cus i spilled ink on the corner of this in 1603 after a really good night out" and franco is like "???? ok ????"

then lando swans off to moodily stare at the moon or some shit.

#norpinto #frando #vampire AU #wiz.HCs #i could keep going but i probably should NAWT #q

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valeovalairs · 3 months ago

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Smiles, here’s a Legend of the Riptide Pirate AU character lore dump (slash info about them just compiled into one place)

Chip

The “Riptide Pirate”

Uses his bandana to appear alive and eternally 19, despite being undead and being an actual skeleton at this point.

You know that meme, how do you do fellow kids? That’s how I envision Chip in this AU. He desperately wants to still appear young and cool once he meets the girls and warms up to them but he is an old man in a modern world. My guy is struggling.

He is very sad.

He kept the Albatross busy and alive with people for a very long time, at least a good hundred years, until it became too painful and he stopped letting people on. That’s when he became more of a legend, when he retreated into the shadows.

He still hangs out in Zero. He tries to spend most of his time there because he wants to enjoy what time he has left with Ollie, but sometimes he’ll get restless and go off on the Albatross.

He has grey streaks in hair- because when he realized Jay and Gil had both started greying and looking older and he still looked 19, they all got really sad and he gave himself grey streaks and said, “look, we match now.” There were tears.

Ollie

He’s alive!

He is a very very old man though. Like maybe even 200ish probably (half-elf’s can exceed 180 which is probably for them what 70 is for humans).

He did travel a lot with the Riptide Pirates in his adulthood, but eventually settled in Zero.

Chip still comes to visit him and his family, who know him as “Uncle Chip”. A lot of them also traveled with the Riptide Pirates at one point or another while he still had a crew.

He has dementia:( Sometimes he’ll see Chip and ask where Gill and Ms. Jay are and it hurts Chip every single time.

Jay

Guys she’s dead, I’m sorry.

She traveled on the Albatross for decades before retiring/settling (with who, idk, but I do really like clockwork/birdbolt wives, so with Ensa maybe?)

I don’t know if she had kids (definitely not bio kids but maybe she like raised some kiddos at some point idk)

She still would join Chip and Gil occasionally on the Albatross until she physically could not anymore, and then Chip would visit her.

She died of old age.

Gillion

He’d dead, but I don’t know what happened to him.

I mean it’s Gillion Tidestrider do we really think this guy is going to live his entire possible 200 year lifespan? No. Because it’s Gillion Tidestrider. He’s going to die heroically in some way. Maybe it’s before Jay, maybe it’s after, idk. But he was too slow. That’s what happened he’s gotten older and one day he was too slow.

Fnc? Im more leaning towards this au being one sided fnc on chips side but there is for sure a whole other kind of angst potential for fnc being an established thing in this au.

Phoebe

The Ferin!

A descendant of one of Jay Ferin’s cousins. (The Ferin’s feel like a big family too me, one with lots of cousins and twice removeds and stuff like that)

One of her parents, the not Ferin, was never too fond of the Ferins practices and so they tried to keep Phoebe distanced from them. (This included the name thing but they caved and allowed her to be called Phoebe May Ferin) And her Ferin parent agreed, despite having been in the Navy themself, that their family was a bit intense.

The family has pushed her to the point of joining the Navy academy, and her family wasn’t given much of a choice, so she was sent off.

She’s heard about the Riptide Pirate, through stories- but her favorite part is that one of his earliest companions was also a Ferin. She hears rumors that he’s still around, being spotted at various docks and Zero.

She decides to risk it and run away, looking for the Riptide Pirate. She escapes the evening the Champion is in the city as all attention will be on that. She panics when she realizes that the champion is also trying to run away.

She knows how to sail (small crafts) I feel like she’d canoe and paddle and know how to man like one of those tiny sail boats.

She has reddish hair but it’s a lot more mute than Jay’s. She also has darker eyes and a stockier build.

Class wise, she’s a fighter, I think. I’m not one hundred percent sure.

Edyn

Edyn is also still alive!

She’s “The Champion’s” grandmother

I think she never returned to the undersea, and ended up settling somewhere on the surface. She ended having kids. The Undersea found out about this, and at someone point sent some people up for them, and offered the kid (now an adult) money, status, community, as long as they returned to the undersea. All they want is for them to sire a child to be “the chosen one”, someone from the same lineage as the original. They like seed some distrust in their head and it turns into a whole argument with Edyn and they never speak again.

She hears about the Champion coming to All Port as part of some diplomacy delegation, several months before, and she really wants to see her granddaughter, get to meet her, so she ends up getting a job for the place they’re staying at as like a maid or an attendant or smth under a different name, and no one suspects anything of a sweet old lady. And they end up promoting her to serve the Champions room because a) sweet old lady b) shes a triton and a triton who has never been too the surface will probably be more comfortable around another triton.

Edyn gets to speak to Calypso and reveals first of all that she is her grandmother, and second of all that she is not actually the chosen one.

Calypso

The “Champion”!

The “Chosen One” who is not actually the chosen one! Just a person meant to replace Gillion as a religious figurehead after his “failure” she and most other people do not know this (they pushed Gillion under the rug and waited for people to forget about him before trying again)

She is a Tidestrider

Her thing is mostly the Elders trying to remain relevant in an increasing secular world.

Her training is less strict and started at a much earlier age than Gillion’s, and it followed a lot less combat and fighting and more religious and magical

She’s literally just for ceremonially purposes, they keep harping about the prophecy and destiny but the elders all know it won’t come to pass for her. She does not.

She goes as part of a diplomacy thing to All Port and there meets Edyn. She had already been discontent with the undersea and uncertain of her place and she had thought about the possibility of leaving but Edyn finally sows the final seeds of distrust and she leaves- Edyn helping by creating a distraction and letting her slip out the window.

She realizes she has no idea of where she is going until she meets Phoebe. They put the dots together and once Phoebe understands she offers to bring Cal along with her, to join the Riptide Pirate. She follows.

She has a crown of coral that looks a lot like Gillion’s but it’s a crown that she can take on and off. It’s not real.

She has lighter hair than Gil and she has a more willowy build (she is also taller than he was)

Class wise, I thought about her being a paladin, but with there being less focus on combat and being a holy warrior, I think she’s a cleric (my heart is telling me she’s a cleric)

#Been meaning to do this for a while #I have a draft started for a possible fic hopefully #I just needed to yap about this is esp since this au is apart of redspacegirl’s jrwitober prompts #will have more drawings soon #jrwi riptide #jrwi au #legend of the riptide pirate au #chip jrwi #gillion tidestrider #jay ferin #ollie jrwi #edyn tidestrider #jrwi riptide oc #jrwi riptide spoilers

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artist-in-training-wheels · 5 months ago

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Nice Nexus AU info!

Hello! Here's the info for my team, Au—Nice Nexus. I might change the name because of the information, but I'm keeping it this way! I've made images to go with it, but I'll have the regular text version under the cut! (I also color-coded the names and certain phrases, mainly because I jump through a lot of pronouns, so it helps keep the info straight!)

Nice Nexus AU

By: Artist-in-training-wheels

This kinda starts when Nexus (Moon at the time) was still grieving Solar’s death. In the episode “What if SOLAR LIVED in VRChat” he wakes up in the theatre, right? Well, we know Dark Sun is insanely good at imitating Sun- so who’s to say that he didn’t just, put a (corruption) chip in Moon that caused him to have that initial hallucination!? The one where Solar lived by Sun died. The only time Moon snapped out of the hallucination was when Monty interacted with him- someone outside the hallucination!

Now, the way I see it, the chip slowly corrupts the user, twisting their desires and morals against themselves until they snap. Once they are at their lowest point, Dark Sun is alerted and approaches the individual, much like he did in “Moon’s New Partnership in VRChat.” I also believe that Dark Sun put a similar chip into Ruin, not as extreme but still holding mild corruption (this is important).

It is also worth mentioning that the flow of time is very… weird in the pocket dimension that they reside in. Sometimes it's years ahead, sometimes it’s a few years behind, and sometimes it lines up with the timeline (the main show). So it’s hard to say how long they’ve truly been there (kinda like the time when Sun and Moon were taken away for a bit- but were actually gone for like… 3 weeks or something like that (according to the Lunar and Earth show)).

Here’s where things divert the cannon. In my redesigns, Nexus has a wither shard on his nightcap. “For experimentation,” as explained to Dark Sun, who allowed it. However, it turns out that wither corruption can cancel out other corruption! Meaning that after some time, Nexus's sanity started to return! Obviously, he never said anything to Dark Sun, only giving Ruin a wither shard, too—again, “for experimentation.” This causes the mild corruption in Ruin to be undone- proving to Nexus that he was indeed corrupted by Dark Sun (cause at the time, he was in denial about it).

Due to his sanity returning, Nexus has a massive panic/depression spiral because of everything he did/said to his family! He knows there is borderline NOTHING he can do to fix all the damage he’s done in hopes of being a part of their family again, not that he blames them… but that doesn’t mean he won’t help where he can! So he’s made the family each their own personalized drone so that he can keep tabs on his family and find ways to help them!

He can’t do a whole lot like this, but he does little gifts here and there for everyone- a book or two for Sun about magic, some interesting/advanced blueprints (mostly of defensive items) for Moon, any and all info he can find about the astrals to Lunar, different accessories to Earth (but she has gotten a lot of different gifts- that seem to resemble apology gifts…), and Solar… well, he’s still working on Solar’s drone, but he’s already gotten a heartfelt “welcome back” gift… it was his goggles and gloves. He’s also in the process of making Dazzle and Jack’s drone, he’s just trying to figure out the best designs for them!

With that all being said, Ruin ends up being the voice of reason, ensuring that Nexus doesn’t make any sudden appearances and keeps them both under Dark Sun’s radar! He’s done it before; now he just has to make sure Nexus doesn’t get them caught. Occasionally, they’ll send the family a note or two about a possible warning (at least in regards to what Dark Sun is doing), but it isn’t often.

#my art #digital art #the sun and moon show #tsams #the lunar and earth show #tlaes #tsams nexus #tsams au #The Nice Nexus AU #Glad to have this written down!#Ask me things about this AU if you want to!#I had fun making all the little doodles!#Now to work on the little drones!

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pudding-parade · 8 months ago

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Sorry, but I have to get political on all your asses, at least those of you who live in the US. It will be a one-time thing on this subject, the only thing that I will say here about the election before it happens. And yeah, I'm going to say this on a blog devoted to a stupid video game. Why? Because I know that I have younger American people who follow me here, and if y'all are like some of the younger people I've talked to in real life and online in other venues, I have concerns. So I'm going to say all this as an old-ass, progressive American. Because if I can wake up one apathetic mind out there, it will be worth it. And if you're pissed at me for making a single political post at this important juncture, then fuck off and unfollow me or send me nasty messages or whatever you want to do. I don't care. And I'm not cutting this, either.

My dear followers: Donald Trump cannot -- CANNOT -- become president again.

Late last night, Trump posted on his Truth Social account a video containing language and images reminiscent of the World War era. It was about his fantasies of what America would be like, should he win the general election in about five months. It contained suspicious imagery and phrases like "creating a unified Reich." Does that sort of language sound familiar? Especially when combined with his rhetoric about immigrants being "vermin" that "poison the blood of our country?" Ring any bells? I'm sure it does for any German folks who might read this.

Trump's post was only taken down about 12 hours later, after backlash over it, and then Trump claimed that a "low level staffer" posted it, not him. Which is either a lie OR he was lying when he said previously that only he and his campaign's communications director have or will ever have access to that account. If you want more info about this, here's a short video from Jesse Dollemore, an independent commentator:

youtube

This election isn't about liberal/progressive vs. conservative. It truly doesn't matter what your personal ideology is because this election is about saving democracy. This is about preserving your freedoms, because we won't be able to do anything about any other issue, whatever our individual ideologies and pet issues are, if our basic freedoms upon which this country was founded -- freedom of speech and to protest, freedom of (and from) religion, freedom of the press -- are chipped away until they are gone. Because that's what autocrats do. They want freedom only for themselves, and Donald Trump and his cronies and hangers-on are all autocrat wannabes.

And if you -- Yes, you, even if you're sitting in the middle of blood-red state -- don't vote for Joe Biden, you will be doing your part to hand the autocrats what they want, because a non-vote or a vote for anyone other than Biden is in fact a vote for Trump and autocracy. Similarly, you must also vote for Democrats for all other positions, local, state, and federal so that America's overt flirtation with autocracy that's been going on since at least the 1990s might finally end once and for all.

Yes, yes, I know: "But Genocide Joe!" Think about it: Do you seriously think that Trump, who licks Netanyahu's asshole because he sees him as the kind of "strong man" that Trump wants to be, is going to help Gaza? Or that he'll go against Putin and continue aid to Ukraine? Because if you think that he will do either of those things, I have several bridges I'd like to sell you. No, Trump is going to "put America first." He says it all the time, and what he means by that is that he will do nothing except whatever it takes to keep himself and his cronies in power while also isolating America by severing ties to our allies. Gaza will be given to Netanyahu just as Ukraine will be given to Putin, should Trump win, and he won't give a shit. In the end, Biden (and Harris, should she have to take over) will listen and help Gaza, maybe not as much as we'd like because the Middle East situation is complicated and there are no simple solutions, but a Biden-led government will certainly help more than another Trumpian government would. And Biden will definitely continue to aid Ukraine, because that situation isn't complicated at all.

And in the end, it's not really about Ukraine and Gaza, though they are of course important. It's about us. Should Trump get into the White House again, he will surround himself with people who want America to be a plutocratic and authoritarian autocracy, very similar to Putin's Russia. This is not hyperbole. This is fact. A vote for Trump -- either actual or de facto by fucking around with not voting or voting for a third party because you think it's a "protest" -- is a vote to end democracy, plain and simple, which might very well mean that you'll never be able to protest again another day.

How bad could Trump be, you ask? Who cares who is president? Well, have a look at Project 2025. It's a 900-page "playbook" for the next "conservative" administration. (In quotes because there is nothing "conservative" about these people, including Trump and his cronies; they are radicals.) It is nothing less than a plan to destroy the federal government, the Constitution, and the freedoms that it enshrines and protects, which means the end of democracy. They published a similar tome before Reagan was elected, and once he was in, Reagan followed through with a lot of it. I have no doubt that Trump would, too, given that his "Agenda 47" platform is basically the same. Here is an article that summarizes Project 2025 and details some of its directives. And here is an article from Time Magazine, of all things, where the writer of it interviewed Trump about his vision for America, should he win. The first line of the article is, "Donald Trump thinks he’s identified a crucial mistake of his first term: He was too nice." You can read the transcripts of the interviews, too, so you can rest assured that the interviewer isn't being hyperbolic.

It ain't good, folks. Part of this extreme-right agenda is ridiculously expanding the power of the executive branch so that it would no longer be checked and balanced by Congress and the Supreme Court, which effectively turns the presidency into a dictatorship. And if Biden does not win, at least some of this bullshit will come to pass, especially because Trump already has the Supreme Court in his pocket. And he'll be able to appoint more young, far-right lunatics to that, too, should he win.

I'll repeat that Trump CANNOT win. I'll be the first to say that, as a pretty extreme (but also pragmatic) progressive, I'm not Biden's biggest fan, for various reasons. He is way farther right than I am, though he has been far more progressive-friendly than I expected and he has gotten some very good things done. But even if he wasn't and hadn't, he will preserve democracy and because of that, I will be voting for him without hesitation. I won't even have to hold my nose. Trump and his cronies in Congress and the Supreme Court will destroy democracy if you -- Yes, YOU! -- let them. And if you let them by deciding not to vote or doing some sort of lame "protest" vote, especially if you live in that handful of states where every presidential vote matters, you will have no one to blame but yourself and others like you. People being apathetic or doing "protest" votes is what got us Trump the first time around.

For fuck's sake, do the right thing.

#non sims #us politics #sorry not sorry #Youtube

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alfredojesta · 4 days ago

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OC post but it's for jason the toymaker rewrite (THIS IS NOT AN OC X CANON POST I WILL BREAK DOWN SOBBING IF ANYONE THINKS ITS OC X CANON THANK YOU) (TS IS UNHEALTHY AS FUCK!!!!!!!) i wanna provide some info because i've been chipping away at this rework for a bit now and i've got. the basics if you will.

Margarethe is basically my version of Maggie (from Jason's OG story if you've read it you know) and Lizbeth is her sister (she acts as the replacement for Daisy. again if you've read the story you know LOL). they're VERY different in the rewrite. the only part i kept the same was Maggie's amnesia and dead parents

Marge is a 30 smth y/o woman with amnesia and she starts dating Jason who then proceeds to gaslight her for 3 years straight in an unhealthy relationship that ends with Marge getting turned to yet another doll. she works at a daycare before Jason tells her to quit because. erm. her job isn't that important anyway. Jason only dated her because she reminded him a lot of Amelia (and my version of Jason is always looking for a new Amelia to fill his void). Jason used her amnesia to his advantage, constantly demeaning her for her shitty memory and then reassuring her that her health problems don't make her any less deserving of good things

Lizbeth is Marge's fun-going half-sister who's a year younger. she's married to a wealthy guy and therefore uses his money for anything and everything. she met Jason first! she was like "WOAH YOUR TOY SHOP IS BEAUTIFUL MY SISTER WOULD LOVE IT HERE I'VE GOT TO BRING HER" BUT. the time between when she met Jason and when she introduced him to Marge was like... 7 years. because Marge was in a coma from when she was 15 to when she was 20. then for 7 years, Lizbeth forgot Jason existed until she was strolling London with Marge. only then did Lizbeth go "HOLY CRUD!!! I WONDER IF THAT TOY SHOP IS STILL OPEN!!!" and dragged Marge to the toy shop

anyway Jason doesn't like Lizbeth. funnily enough he always thought her name was Elizabeth which goes to show how little he cared about her LMFAO the last thing he ever said to her, when Lizbeth came to his flat sobbing about Marge being missing, was "I never liked you, Elizabeth." (then he shut the door on her and she stood frozen for a good minute.)

Marge loves Jason like she thought it was so cool he started his own business but it slowly dives into concern. As it always does. she gets confused abt his motives. she has so many memory gaps and Jason is alw telling her what happened (she can really only trust his word) she's left alone a lot but Jason also isolates her from others. she works until Jason tells her its better if she takes time off bc of her health. Marge cant say the same for Jason even tho hes constantly working. she in fact wanted to make connections with other people, and that is when they started to argue frequently. Jason became frustrated because why the hell is he putting so much effort into this woman (and then he decided, after a bit, he needed to fix her so he turns her into a doll.)

(There is no world where Jason can have a healthy relationship with a woman as long as Amelia is apart of his life. Jason sees all the women in his life as projects to work on and perfect. That's why he wants to keep them and gets angry when they try to leave. At that point, they've broken themselves again. And the only way to then perfect them is by turning them into a doll.)

this is also where mr. bunny comes into play because Marge wanted to purchase him and that's how she interacted with Jason for the first time. the fact Marge was a daycare assistant meant she was able to get free toys from Jason LOL it's sweet in theory but Jason thought acts of services were just ways to keep Marge at bay ^_^ so she wont consider leaving. god bless his stupid fucking brain and its dumbass way of thinking

n e way their relationship was toxic as fuck but was Jason's longest relationship . he only saw her as a replacement for Amelia though so it's safe to say he never truly loved her.

#THIS IS A WIP HUGE WIP #ill definitely be reworking some stuff but i felt like talking tonight so ehmmm #KJ yapping #KJ doodles #jason the toymaker #creepypasta oc #creepypasta rewrite

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weeja-bored · 5 months ago

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Mission accomplished, i found the Chip Star X Super Mario Bros potato chips at a local Daiso!

. similar to what my friend found, there's only two flavors available, Consomme (Bowser) and Seaweed (Luigi) >w< Bowser and Luigi~ sitting on the shelf ♪ XD

. they're smaller than i thought, then again there might be a different size elsewhere

. it's kinda interesting how often Luigi is on someone's left side (viewers' right) like they're required to be arranged that way lol

. took me a moment to realize that Luigi is the Wonder version! i was just so excited to see my fav greenie (Bowser is the classic version)

. the QR code on the lid takes you to the Nintendo JP website about the SMB Wonder game, [Nintendo PH version].

. there's also free digital wallpapers / 2024 calendar if you have an acc. (i've noticed Japan seem to love wallpapers cuz it's pretty much the same formula as the recent Nintendo Magazine ft. Luigi)

. i only got the Seaweed one for now . glad there's extra packaging to separate the food cuz i sure am keeping the carton can lol . the code on the wrapper doesn't seem to work anymore, or i'm just not in Japan.

. on the back of the can there's English translation of food ingredients & allergen info. the sticker covers what was apparently a giveaway in Japan last year. another QR code is meant to give me Nintendo points but it's Japan only so 🤷

. at the bottom of the can there's like a thing you can rip open so it's easier to crush flat, if i were to throw it away that is :p . but i think that's interesting, i sure haven't seen that before.

#i do have an obsession #smb luigi #bowuigi #brainrot #mario wonder #chip star #super mario bros #food

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chimivx · 10 months ago

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sleepovers ↠ txt

now playing ↠ love is embarrassing • olivia rodrigo

Sleepovers at Jungkooks are the best. But, what happens the night you stay after your weekend away with the boys? Not what you think.

This is not Part Two of Cruel Summer. Just a teeny little addition to Part One.

Read Cruel Summer Part One here!

Read 'Haven' and 'Taste' [hyunjin's story]

word count ↠ 3920 warnings ↠ MDNI, 18+, mentions of sex, drug use (weed), the step sibs warning applies always even though they are not, mentions of pregnancy, cursing, jungkook gets a warning for being hawt, anxiety if you squint, IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW! a/n ↠ i had to. important info in here, hints, and just simply more about jungkook because i absolutely love him. thank you for being here! again, if this is not your thing, please keep scrolling. xo posted ↠ 3/21/24 ~ 9:20 p. m. est.

~ july 4th, 2011 ~

A pizza box slid onto the table, the three of you nestled in the chairs around it, knees either pulled into your chest or underneath you. Beomgyu was to your left, Taehyun to your right. Soda cans littered the wood, open bags of chips scattered about. The three of you were heavy lidded and glassy eyed, snacks were essential.

“Someone gonna keep telling me what else you guys did down in ‘Mano?” Jungkook asked, flipping the box open, the smell of the cheesy, greasy deliciousness smacking you all across the face. Mouth watering in an instant, you dove in first, ripping a slice apart.

Beomgyu, licking his lips, watched you pop the slice in your mouth and went in next. “We told you everything.” He answered his brother without much interest, his mind on filling his growling stomach.

“I don’t think you did,” Jungkook smirked, leaning against the edge of the table, gripping the wood.

Taking another bite, the taste entirely overwhelming, the best pizza you’ve ever fucking eaten, you quirk a brow and glance at Taehyun, then Beomgyu, then Jungkook. “What have we already said?”

The eldest tried to hide his laugh, dropping his head for a moment. “Drinks, that’s about it,” he said, looking at you. His eyes were steady, holding yours with a purpose. “But something else is going on,” he looked around the table before he landed back on you, “Since y’all got here it’s been… off. What happened?”

You immediately turned to Taehyun with both eyebrows raised. His hand flew up fast, mid bite into his pizza. He wagged a finger and hummed.

“No,” he eventually mumbled. Swallowing, he shook his head. “No.”

“No?” Jungkook scanned over the three of you, curiosity eating him alive. “You guys used to tell me everything, you can totally tell me.”

Taehyun pointed a finger at Beomgyu. “He used to tell you everything.”

Following his point, Jungkook cocked his head. “Still does.”

The fire in his eyes when he glanced back at the two of you made your heartbeat stutter. Beneath the dark chocolate, the warm, inviting, lively eyes, he was taunting you. He was taunting both of you. A smile grew on his lips, the corners perking up as he saw it work out in your brain. You couldn’t even get a gasp out.

“Yup,” Jungkook said. “So? Lemme hear it.”

You aren’t sure what would’ve happened in this moment if you weren’t fried out of your mind. Imagining two possibilities, one a freak out, and another a panic attack, you suppose either would be aimed toward Beomgyu, the boy glaring at his brother. If he wasn’t fried out of his mind he’d definitely flip his shit.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” he mumbled instead with a slow blink before he housed the rest of the pizza in his hand. Yours had dropped to the table at some point.

A laugh came from your right. A quiet, breathy laugh laced in disbelief. Taehyun, with the biggest, toothiest grin with his head in hands leaned forward onto the table, shoulders bouncing as he laughed. Now there was a spark of panic within you, a small flame igniting in your gut. Looking over at Jungkook, who watched you with a new look, one that made him seem worried, though you couldn’t tell if you were reading too much into it, you gulped painfully, your throat like sandpaper.

“What are you talking about?” Your question came out of you in a whisper, Jungkook glancing between the boys, one who didn’t seem to care, and another who found it all too hilarious. Used to being on the outside of the joke, this was one you couldn’t stand, not when it threatened the safety of the happy little world you’ve secluded yourself into.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes, his composure steady as a rock. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“How do I know what you’re talking about?” Trying to throw him off, the muscle pig who’s been smoking since he was twelve, an expert at handling his high, he started to smile.

“Save it,” he said, shaking his head. “I know it’s true and so do you,” he pushed away from the table, pointing at the boys before turning to get another soda from the fridge. “So do these two.”

Looking at them both, Beomgyu grabbing another slice of pizza, and Taehyun laying on the wood laughing quietly to himself, you sighed. “What the hell, Gyu?”

“Don’t blame me,” he muttered, barely giving you a glance.

Jungkook spun around and came back to the table, sliding you the soda he grabbed, already opened. “Yeah, don’t blame him,” he said. “Y’all are messy when you aren’t home, you know that?”

Eyes shooting open wide, you scoffed and Taehyun lifted his head, his cheeks pink. Wearing that grin, he looked at you, then he looked at Jungkook.

“He knows,” Taehyun snickered, his voice quiet. He pointed at Jungkook, his hand merely leaving the table.

Tightening your fists where they laid over the wood, you furrowed your brows and shook your head. “No, no he doesn’t. He doesn’t.” You shot the eldest a look. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook said, taking his place back at the edge of the table, muscles buckling as he locked his elbows. Your shameless, traveling eyes ate him alive. You wondered if it was noticeable, you gawking at him, but you weren’t gawking, you were… admiring. Muscles, tattoos, a few piercings… God, he was hot. “Eyes up here,” he joked, gesturing upward. Shifting in your seat you glanced to your left, Beomgyu was already judging you with a glare. It was noticeable.

“Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong,” you said, clamping your arms around your body, blinking many times, moving straight past the way your cheeks flushed.

Jungkook was quiet, for longer than you’d like. Only his eyes seemed to move, interrogating each of you, waiting for someone to crack. Taehyun, already a flustered mess, couldn’t focus on anything. Beomgyu, balls deep in another slice of pizza, wasn’t interested anymore nor concerned with the fact he’d put you in some sort of danger.

Maybe danger was extreme, but it didn’t matter. It was still bad, very, very bad.

The heat of Jungkook's stare burning a hole in your face was too much to bear. The smoke took control. “Fine, he’s my boyfriend.”

Taehyun’s giggles vanished.

“Boyfriend?” Jungkook questioned, looking at his brother.

Beomgyu stopped chewing, eyes widening ever so slightly.

“Baby,” Taehyun whispered, leaning toward you in his seat.

Jungkook nearly broke his neck. “Baby?!”

“He said he knew,” you tossed your hands at your sides. “It’s Jungkook, you know how many times he’s probably heard us fuck?!”

“Oh my god,” Beomgyu muttered.

Jungkook pushed back from the table and drug his hands through his curls. Wandering back toward the counters you heard him take a deep breath, and then another. The air in the room grew cold, a chill settling over your skin. Gulping, the look on Taehyun’s face was detrimental to your heart. His hands were stretched out, toward you, limp. The shock stung. It stung you both.

“I thought it was you two,” Jungkook finally spoke after a minute of disgustingly thick silence, motioning toward you and Beomgyu. Taehyun’s eyes found the table.

Taking a peek at Beomgyu who now watched his brother, you said, “It is,” and Jungkook’s face screwed up in confusion.

“But, you just said it’s you two,” he narrowed his eyes, taking in how Taehyun didn’t move.

Taking an audible breath, you whispered, “It is.”

A sound mimicking the shock and pure terror you were feeling fell from Jungkook’s lips that had perked up into the tiniest smile. He propped himself up against the counters and crossed his arms. You didn’t let yourself look this time.

“You’re kidding me,” he said. Taehyun turned his chin to look at him, as did Beomgyu. “The three… All three of you.” All three of you nodded. Jungkook scoffed, his shock melting into amusement. Looking from Beomgyu to Taehyun, back to Beomgyu, Jungkook pointed his finger. “Do, uh… Do you two…?”

Beomgyu ran his tongue over his lips, raising a brow. “Sometimes.”

Taehyun dropped his head back into his hands with a heavy sigh, you couldn’t tell if out of shame or just pure embarrassment that this was a topic of conversation at the moment.

“Huh,” Jungkook nodded, drinking it all up, focused on his brother. “So it does run in the family.”

“I’m not gay,” Beomgyu spat.

Jungkook laughed. “Oh, no, no, Gyu,” he taunted. “You can’t keep your dick in your pants, you were wrong. You are one of us.” The softest snicker came out of where Taehyun hid his face. “Besides, even if you were gay you’d think I care?” He clicked his tongue, “Grow up. Suck as many dicks as you want.” Now the three of you were laughing, Taehyun picking up his head to show off his smile. “I wanna know what y’all are,” he said, then looked at you and Taehyun. “What’s this boyfriend business? Y’all are like, step-siblings, that’s… Oh,” he paused, tilting his chin, puffing out his bottom lip toward Taehyun, “Dude, I can find you other sites…”

Taehyun cut him off with a shout and swat of his hand while you and Beomgyu giggled, Jungkook laughing along with you. Thankfully Taehyun did as well, sitting backward in his chair, tipping his head backward with a groan, his cheeks unable to stop cheesing.

“Tell me. I wanna know, too.” Jungkook was smug, shaking his shoulders back and forth with the funniest smile. He used his elbow to point at each of you. “This whole time I thought you were fuckin’ my brother and you were watching.”

Taehyun furrowed his eyebrows. Memories of a few days prior popped into your head.

“Sometimes someone ends up watching,” Taehyun began, his smile calming down. “But, when it’s… God, this is weird to say to you… When it’s the three of us, we’re…”

“All involved…” you breathed, side eyeing him in hopes it was okay for you to step into his choppy explanation.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, facing his brother. “He fucks her, I fuck her, I fuck him, he fucks me, we all fucking fuck.”

Jungkook's heart shaped lips had parted, his star filled eyes wide. Beomgyu’s words made you want to curl up in a literal ball and pass away. All you could do was laugh. All Taehyun could do, was laugh. Beomgyu released a heavy, audible breath and slumped backward, shaking his head.

Covering your mouth, you turned toward him. “I can’t believe you just said all of that out loud.”

“Wasn’t the first time,” he mumbled under his breath, glaring at his brother. “Happy now?”

Jungkook snapped his mouth shut. A smirk tugged at his lips as he clapped his hands together. “Amazing,” he said. “Now it makes sense. You didn’t say yes,” he mocked the twang in his brother's deep voice and studied Taehyun. “What are you, the permission giver? The leader?” He shot you and his brother a look. “Brat tamer?” Beomgyu snickered with you.

Taehyun, rubbing a hand over his chest, took a breath to calm down and stared at the table. “I’m…” he glanced up at you and your heart stopped beating. “She’s… She’s my girlfriend.” Nerves erupted in your gut, your entire body going still. Taehyun offered you a smile, one you couldn’t return.

Paralyzed, you couldn’t even look at Jungkook. Frozen, you clenched your jaw, wondering why it didn’t feel good to hear him say the words.

He was still talking to Jungkook, the two continued on, discussing who knows what about your relationship. You heard mentions of your parents not knowing, about Yeonjun not knowing, about everyone not knowing, except him.

Between your lungs tightened, your ribs constricting your breath from the inside out. Averting your stare to the table, you tried to breathe, a short gasp of air that did nothing to ease the, you think, panic? Was it panic? Chest pain, shortness of breath, you couldn’t remember all the shit that came with it.

He was so calm about it, saying the words to Jungkook. She’s my girlfriend. They were words that were rarely spoken around others, even the boy to your left.

A hand found your arm, Beomgyu’s, wrapping around your wrist. Barely turning your chin, he was looking at you, his body facing you entirely, both of his feet on the floor. “It’s okay,” his voice quiet, the other boys laughing at something Jungkook had said. “You’re okay. It’s Jungkook, it’s okay.”

He could read it all within your eyes. Everything you were feeling, everything you wanted to say. There was little to nothing he could say to you in this moment that would make you feel any better about it.

Bobbing his head, agreeing to something he decided on himself inside his head, he turned toward his brother and crossed a foot over one of his knees. “JK,” he started, cutting the boys off, probably details deep in you and Taehyun. The eldest, mid sentence, used to his brother cutting into every conversation of his, shot him a look. “Sorry,” Beomgyu’s lazy smile made an appearance, your heart somewhat holding onto it. “Info goes both ways here.”

“So do you, apparently.” Jungkook smiled after you and Taehyun laughed. He looked toward your boyfriend briefly, “You do too, Alabama.” The giggles had finally found you again, Beomgyu hitting you with his smile, happy to see you squeeze your eyes shut as his brother spoke. “What info, Gyu?”

“They didn’t know you were having a kid,” Beomgyu said. You admired the way he gazed at his brother, evident that he looked up to him more than he liked to let on. Aside from Hyunjin, Jungkook was the only older male figure in his life, holding down the life they lived with Jihyo before he moved out.

“Yeah, what is that?” Taehyun asked. “When the hell did that happen? You said she’ll be here soon?”

“It’s a girl?” You spoke up, voice tiny, all the boys pointing their gazes toward you.

Jungkook smiled, a real smile. Proud.

“It’s a girl,” he said. Thinking to himself for a moment, eyes wandering the tiled floor, he nodded. “In two months she’ll be here. I was just with Chaeyoung this weekend, she had a doctor's appointment, we got to, uh, we got to see her.” Jungkook twisted his fingers together, looking away from the three of you as his smile faded into something small.

“You’re excited,” you said, and he met your eyes. Another nod from him warmed your heart. “Is Chae excited?”

His eyes dropped back to the floor. You were about to regret your question until he opened his mouth.

“She is.” He rolled his shoulders back and sighed, sharing a look with Beomgyu. “We just have to work some things out, that’s all.”

“What stuff?” Taehyun was focused on the tattooed boy, eyes grilling him, almost seeming like he was judging him.

Not judging, analyzing.

“Well,” Jungkook sighed again, “She only told me a month ago.” Gasping, Jungkook huffed a laugh toward you. “I know,” he raised his brows, the piercing catching the light as he tilted his chin. “She said she didn’t know how to tell me.”

“She had seven months,” you muttered.

Taehyun shot you a quick look before he asked Jungkook, “Is that not when you guys broke up?”

Jungkook thinned his lips. “It was right when we broke up.”

The two dated for four years, Chaeyoung and Jungkook, and she was the only one out of all his girlfriends that you absolutely adored. Aside from her stunning complexion, bright eyes, and fun hair, she was a sweetheart, and funny as fuck. Jungkook was already a trip himself, put the two together and you’d all be rolling for hours on end. She was a girls girl, she kept an eye on you when you were around, and always asked you if you were okay. She was the one to teach you that doing your hair and makeup didn’t matter if you didn’t want to wear it, and taught you how to perfect a messy bun. Sleepovers at Jungkooks were your favorite when she was around, she treated you all like her little siblings, not just Beomgyu.

“You remember when it happened?” Beomgyu snickered, one of his nails finding its way between his teeth. Leaning toward him you grabbed his wrist and threw his hand into his own lap. The look he gave you, you ignored.

“It’s not that weird,” Jungkook shrugged. “I didn’t wear a condom.” The sudden switch in his tone, from calm to literal older brother, straightened all of you out. He closed his eyes and sighed, a hand touching his forehead. “You guys are twenty, you need to be smarter. Feel like I’m talking to teenagers. You guys let anyone else in on this… this situation? Jesus, I don’t even know what the fuck to call it.”

“No.” The word loud, with emphasis, left the three of you at once.

“Okay,” Jungkook’s tone switched back to calm, collected. “Still, protect yourselves. You do not need to get sick and you do not need to be having kids.” He shared a look with his brother. “Especially you.” The boy rolled his eyes and hung his head, his fingers messing with each other. “I’m sure if you two do, your daddy will take care of it all, right Taehyun?” Jungkook’s smile made Taehyun scoff. “You take that job yet?”

“Nah,” he shook his head. “I dunno if I can do all that. Numbers, money? I can barely tell colors apart.” Beomgyu just about snorted.

It was always in the cards for Taehyun to take a position below Jin at the company he worked for, at HGF, Han Guardian Finance. A prestigious bank that’s beginning to slowly inch its way around the country. At least that’s what Jin has told you, that’s their goal, him and the CEO’s son, Han Jisung. They want the company to go worldwide, and even Joy thinks that’s too ambitious. She’s always warned Jin that his now partner, Jisung, leaned into the greedier side of the work world, of life. That he should be cautious, that Jisung would take whatever he could get, throw away whatever was needed to make more, to have more.

Joy said that. Joy.

“That’s good money, dude,” Jungkook said. “He’s giving it to you, you don’t even have to interview or nothing. He’ll probably build you your own office once you say yes. You could move out to your own place after a month of working there, you realize that?” Taehyun listened, his head nodding more and more as Jungkook spoke, advising him like he was another little brother. “It’d be stupid of you not to take it. What else are you gonna do? College?”

“Never,” Taehyun breathed. He spared you a quick glance. “What if I hate it though?”

Jungkook tried his best to not roll his eyes, a smirk playing at his lips. “I’d rather be rich and hate my job than be living paycheck to paycheck, wondering how the fuck I’m gonna raise a daughter when I can barely keep what I have now in line.”

Beomgyu wiggled in his seat, his eyes pointed down. Jungkook peered toward him without him noticing, some type of compassion, or care within his look. The eldest adored him as much as the youngest respected him. Brothers, siblings, a bond you’ve never experienced, and never will. The two of them best friends, counting on one another, helping one another, being there, the two of them literally made for the other. Two extremely different beings, having come from the same place, not the same in the slightest, but with the same blood coursing through their veins.

It was beautiful, their relationship, something you’ve been envious of since the start. When Jungkook started to date Chaeyoung, that’s the closest you’ve felt to having someone fill the role of big sister. That is, until you met Dina. Still, a piece of you wished to know what it felt like, to have a sibling. To have someone belong to you, because they share a piece of you. They understand you, because, in some way, they are you.

You turned to Jungkook, the question eating you alive from the inside out, stopping each boy where he was. “Are you gonna marry her?”

Taehyuns eyes were hot on you. Beomgyu ogled his brother.

Jungkook bit his lip, taking the silver ring into his mouth. A gentle chuckle came out of him. “If she says yes.”

Beomgyu lurched forward in his seat, this clearly being the first he’s heard of it. “What are you talking about? You told me days ago you were-”

“Nope,” Jungkook cut him off. “I was pissed, don’t take that seriously.”

Beomgyu slumped back and groaned, folding his arms over his chest tight. “Then why say it if you don’t mean it?”

Jungkook gave him a look that told him to brush it off while apologizing at the same time. “We’re going to see Whitney tomorrow.”

“I hate her,” Beomgyu grumbled.

Jungkook sighed. “No you don’t.” The glare he got in return was lethal. “The answer is,” he focused back on you, “I want to. I’m ready to ask her. I love her. I love our daughter already. These months of being broken up were really stupid, and immature. We’ve got some shit to sort out, but who doesn’t. I’m about to be twenty four, I can be a dad, I can be a husband.” A laugh came from Beomgyu. Jungkook returned the glare he had gotten moments prior. “Shut up.”

“No, come on, I think it’s cute you wanna play daddy,” Beomgyu smirked. “Also think it's ridiculous you’re exactly like Hyunjin, ‘cept without the addict part. I’d like to see you be a house-husband, that should be fun.”

“I think it’s great,” you said, voice quiet, watching Jungkook as he moved to give you a smile. Now Beomgyu’s eyes were hot on you too, his neck nearly snapping toward you in shock. “I love Chae, too. I miss her. And I think you’ll be a really good dad.” Considering what had happened with his own, you know there was no need to bring up how much practice he’s gotten already. How you just know he would take the example he was given, and do the exact opposite. The action he’s taken already, how he’s dove head first into it, seeming with little resentment given he’s only just found out about his child.

“Thanks,” Jungkook said. “Chaeyoung was talking about you the last time I was with her.” A smile found your lips. “She misses you, too. She hopes… She hopes you’re okay.” He let his gaze drag over the three of you. “She’s so smart.” He laughed. “She guessed this before I even realized what was happening. You three.”

“She did?” you whispered.

Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, she knows. Figured it out herself.” He popped his brows and smiled at you. “Girl intuition is crazy.”

Swallowing hard, you blinked and glanced at your lap. Taking a deep breath, you tried to ease the nerves that crept up within you. You looked at Taehyun, who was now talking with Jungkook, and tightened your jaw.

Girl intuition is crazy.

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