#I can’t thank you enough for sharing that with me!

[ja3yun]

The Doll House | Park Jongseong

doll!jay x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), soft dom!jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), punishment, pussy slapping, begging, slight choking, pet names (sweetheart, good girl, princess), mentions of fire and other supernatural elements, anything else lmk! wc: 10.3k synopsis: your friend comes to visit you in the mansion after a month but her harsh words towards the dolls brings out a protective side, and jongseong lets you in on some secrets about the house and how they came to be. sunghoon | masterlist | heeseung a/n: hi! with this being the third instalment for this series, it's finally answering some questions while also posing some more! i truly enjoyed writing this chapter and i hope the little word plays and everything get your gears turning with theories! i enjoy hearing your theories so much like i can't even describe it <3 thank you so so so much for the love, i am forever grateful. likes, reblogs, feedback etc are all appreciated!

The doorbell chimes through the air, pulling your attention away from putting away the dishes in the kitchen, and a grin effortlessly spreads across your face. Mia's visit today after a month apart fills you with an immediate sense of joy. Though Jaeyun and Sunghoon are great company to keep, nothing quite compares to the presence of your best friend.

Her absence has been so obvious; her infectious energy seems to breathe life into everywhere she goes, which is a much-missed aura in this mansion; her presence has the power to dispel the shadows and chill that cling to the brick walls.

"Who could that be?" Sunghoon's voice interrupts your thoughts as he strolls around the kitchen island.

"It's Mia, remember? The friend I came here with. I told you she would be coming," you remind him gently, accepting the cup he just dried.

Sunghoon and Jaeyun both offer their assistance with the chores, but their motivations are drastically different. Jaeyun's assistance comes from a place of actually wanting to help and spend quality time with you, whereas Sunghoon is helping because the faster you finish, the sooner he can fuck you in whatever room you wind up in.

Despite your initial concerns, their dynamic surprises you as they seamlessly work in tandem. Rather than competing for your attention, they've embraced the idea of sharing you - an unexpected but pleasant development.

Jaeyun's bright smile at the island warms the room, his anticipation evident, "Will Mia be staying for the last month?" he inquires eagerly.

“Why? Is Y/N not enough?” Sunghoon jabs playfully, his eyebrow arching at his brother's question. His arms encircle your waist, drawing you close so your back is pressed against his chest as he leans his head on your shoulder, "If you'd rather be with Mia, I’m more than happy to have my baby girl all to myself," he murmurs against your neck, planting a gentle kiss on the nape.

Your skin tingles with a mix of excitement and affection as Sunghoon leaves a faint mark, a delighted expression dancing across your face.

“No, no! I was just curious," Jaeyun protests with a pout, his posture relaxing into a slight slouch.  He’s so cute when Sunghoon teases him like that, you’re almost reluctant to stop it. 

But before you can say anything, Sunghoon gently turns you to face him, his expression softening as he meets your gaze, "Remember," he murmurs, his voice tinged with a hint of seriousness, "you can’t tell Mia about us, yeah?”

Of course, you knew that telling her would be disastrous no matter the outcome. She would either think you were crazy and lost your mind, or she would tell the world. Your best friend was never the best at keeping secrets.

“I know, don’t worry,” you offer the simple words as reassurance to him, which paired with the sincerity in your eyes, he gladly accepts.

Leaning in, Sunghoon lands a soft kiss on your lips, his kind gesture relieving any remaining anxieties, "Good. Now, once she's finally fucking gone, come find me in my room," he says with a sly leer, his fingers slithering teasingly over your sides - a familiar trick he uses to make you weak. You should reprimand him for speaking so dismissively about your best friend's arrival, but he just has the power to make you forget.

Sunghoon's demeanour takes a brief shift as he addresses Jaeyun, a hint of authority creeping into his tone, "And you," he gestures towards Jaeyun behind you, his expression momentarily serious, "if you're staying here, you stay absolutely still, got it?"

"Okay, Dad, jeez," Jaeyun retorts, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance at the implication that he needs to be reminded.

You grasp Sunghoon's concern, especially given that you're currently aware of the doll's secret due to Jaeyun's loose lips. However, Sunghoon's tone feels unnecessarily harsh. Jaeyun holds a special place in your heart, and you find yourself fiercely protective of him. It irks you to see Sunghoon address him in such a condescending manner, as if he's incapable of handling himself.

Feeling defensive of Jaeyun, you push against Sunghoon's arm, shooting him a stern look, a firm reminder that he should catch his tongue because both of you know how it affects Jaeyun.

The bell rings again, drawing all three of your attention back to Mia's imminent arrival. Sunghoon excuses himself to his room, and Jaeyun settles comfortably into a chair, leaving you to answer the door with the unspoken reassurance that Mia won’t uncover their secret. But then again, what if you slip up?

It's a nagging worry in the back of your mind as you approach the door. Mia knows everything about you - every hook-up, every situationship, even mundane details like what you had for breakfast each morning. She's your confidante for everything, even the embarrassing stuff like bursting spots on your backside. With her, nothing is off-limits.

You remind yourself to keep your wits about you, to guard your words carefully in Mia's presence. The last thing you need is to accidentally let slip the truth about the dolls and your illicit affairs with them. 

You need to keep your wits about you.

As you swing open the door, greeted by the radiant presence of the angel you call your best friend, every worry and concern fades into the background. Her infectious smile and warm embrace envelop you, dispelling any lingering doubts or anxieties.

"Baby!" you exclaim, unable to contain your excitement as you wrap Mia in a tight embrace, swinging her from side to side. Though it's only been a month since you last saw her, it feels like an eternity.

Mia reciprocates your enthusiasm, squeezing you just as tightly, the warmth of her embrace filling you with a sense of homecoming. Both of you laugh and struggle to breathe amidst the suffocating love you shower upon each other, relishing in the joy of being reunited.

"God, I've missed you. It's so boring back in the city without you," Mia confesses, her words honest as she finally draws back to assess you. Suddenly, she pushes you to arm's length, her hands gripping your shoulders as she scrutinises you with a sceptical expression. With a flick of her finger, she motions for you to turn around, and you oblige, doing a quick twirl to indulge her curiosity.

You give her a quizzical look, tilting your head in silent inquiry as to what she's up to. "You're glowing, like literally, you look fucking amazing," she observes, her eyes scanning you from head to toe.

"Don't I always?" you jest in response.

"Obviously, but you've got that honeymoon glow," Mia insists, walking into the house but not before nudging you with her shoulder. "Is there a hot gardener here that I don't know about, hmm?"

Laughing, you shake your head, dismissing her playful insinuations. You make a conscious effort to maintain the facade, concealing your unconventional relationships with the dolls from Mia, despite her keen observations. 

They must be fucking you good for her to notice a change within a minute of seeing you. 

Mia follows you to the kitchen, her gaze lingering on the various porcelain dolls scattered throughout the hallway, just as she had when you both met Soonyeol for the first time. You sense her unease, evident in the hurried pace of her steps as she tries desperately to evade the watchful eyes of the dolls. 

What she finds unsettling, you've grown to find some comfort in. Each time you clean them, you develop a newfound admiration for their intricate beauty and craftsmanship. Sometimes, Sunghoon will even tell you stories about certain dolls and their origins, adding to the mystique surrounding them.

Entering the kitchen, you find Jaeyun still perched on his seat, his usual joyful smile replaced by a stoic expression as he takes on his doll persona. 

It’s weird to see him like this now, especially because you’ve seen him convey every emotion possible on that beautiful face of his; the solemn look he wears now just feels wrong.

"I brought non-alcoholic wine," Mia announces, reaching into her bag and producing two bottles of white wine. Since she’s driving, she’s bringing you along in her sobriety for the day. If it was easy to get an Uber in these parts, she certainly wouldn’t be settling for 0.05%.

You chuckle at the sight, "Seriously? Gary Barlow wine?" you tease, unable to resist poking fun at her choice.

Mia feigns offence, placing a hand dramatically over her heart, "I'll have you know this is my idea of a very nice day out," she retorts, her voice taking on a mock-serious tone as she quotes his TikTok video, struggling to suppress a giggle. "That, and it was £2 off with my clubcard."

You both burst into laughter, her tension from earlier dissipating as you share a lighthearted moment. Grabbing two large glasses, you place them on the table, inviting Mia to pour some for you both.

"How was the drive?" you inquire, taking a small sip of wine.

"It was fine, although longer than I remember," Mia replies with a huff, sinking into a seat opposite Jaeyun. You notice her discomfort as she eyes him, face contorting in a form of disgust, "How has it been here?" she asks, wishing to know how on earth you’re coping in a mansion with such watchful eyes.

"It's a big house, lots to clean. All in all, it's been good.” You sip your wine, struggling to maintain the facade of normalcy. 

The urge to confide in Mia, to unburden yourself of the secrets weighing heavily on your shoulders, is almost overwhelming. You want to tell her about the dolls, the ominous door that almost blinded you, and the sense of anxiety you feel sometimes when you roam the hallways. But you swallow the truth down, burying it beneath layers of false smiles and empty reassurances. It's a lonely feeling, knowing that you can't share your fears and anxieties with your closest friend. But for now, it's a burden you'll have to bear alone.

Mia accepts your answer with a sceptical expression, her eyes never wavering from Jaeyun's impassive face, "It's so fucking creepy," she murmurs into her glass, her discomfort evident in her tone, "Do you actually have to place them around the house? Can't you keep them locked up or something?"

You glance at Jaeyun, hoping for a flicker of reassurance in his eyes, but they remain devoid of emotion, sending a shiver down your spine. It's unsettling to see him so detached, his usual warmth replaced by an eerie emptiness.

Gathering your resolve, you pick up your glass and move to stand beside Jaeyun, offering him a supportive smile before responding to Mia. "It's part of the job, Mia. Soonyeol entrusted me with the responsibility of caring for them," you explain, your voice tinged with a mixture of obligation and fondness.

Mia scoffs at your explanation, "Girl, you're in a mansion on your own, just clean up on the last day. It's not like she would notice," she suggests, her nose upturned in disdain. You can tell that this whole situation is deeply unsettling for her, a puzzle she can't quite solve without knowing the full truth. She will never understand until she’s in your shoes.

"It's... nice, to look after them like this," you say wistfully, casting a fond glance down at Jaeyun as you speak.

Unable to resist the urge to offer him a comforting touch, you reach out to tuck a loose strand of Jaeyun's hair behind his ear, a small gesture of affection. Jaeyun wants nothing more than to nuzzle himself into your touch but Sunghoon’s words are still ringing in his mind.

Mia observes your interaction with a mixture of curiosity and concern, her eyes flitting between you and Jaeyun as if trying to decipher the unspoken language passing between you. You’ve only ever looked at one other man the way you look at him and it was your high school sweetheart.

The connection you share with Sunghoon and Jaeyun is utterly unlike anything you've ever known. They resonate with your soul in a way that defies rational explanation, leaving you convinced that they must be otherworldly beings. There has to be more to them than just kindred spirits trapped in the shell of these dolls; no mere human soul could evoke such a profound hold over you.

She scoffs and laughs in disbelief at your act of affection, “You’ve lost it, completely lost it. Being in this house alone has driven you to insanity,” she shakes her head, crossing her arms.

You retract your hand from Jaeyun and look at her in wonder, “What do you mean?”

It’s completely lost on you how this could look to her because for you this is normal. Soonyeol was strange in your eyes when you first arrived, Mia also accused the owner of being crazy, but now you understand Soonyeol and her attachment to her dolls.

Mia's incredulous gaze flickers between you and Jaeyun, her words dripping with disdain. "Look at you fixing that stupid doll's hair!" she exclaims, her voice laced with exasperation as if your actions are the epitome of absurdity, "You're going to turn into that creepy bitch who lives here."

Her words cut through the air like a knife, slicing through the fragile peace of the moment. You can’t feel it but you know Jaeyun would be tensing under her words if he had the ability to. Jaeyun doesn’t like it when people talk bad about his owner, especially since the reason Mia finds her so creepy is because of him and his brothers. 

He does understand to an extent that Soonyeol being so young and cooped up with four dolls in a mansion that can only rival the one in Saltburn might be seen as weird, but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear about it, considering the passing comment is from someone who knows nothing about her.

You place a calming hand on Jaeyun's shoulder, your protective instincts kicking into high gear. "Listen, if you're going to run your mouth, just fucking go," you retort harshly, your voice fueled by your need to shield Jaeyun from Mia's unnecessary commentary.

Mia's eyes widen in disbelief, her expression a mixture of shock and frustration. "Y/N, listen to yourself," she chides, her voice tinged with a hint of disappointment, “You've gone stark crazy... maybe you should come home-"

"No!" The word bursts from your lips in a panic, cutting off Mia's well-meaning suggestion before she can finish. The thought of leaving sends a wave of fear coursing through you.

Mia recoils at your outburst, taken aback by the intensity of your reaction. "Y/N, I don't think it's good for you here," she pleads, her tone softening as she reaches out to touch your arm.

But you pull away, shaking your head vehemently. "You literally said I was glowing all but 10 minutes ago," you snap back, narrowing your eyes at her, "Just fucking go."

There's a moment of tense silence as Mia processes your words, her expression shifting from concern to anger. She knows there's no reasoning with you when you're in this state, and she can sense the wall you've built around yourself.

"Fine. I'll see you when you screw your head back on," she spits out at you, her voice dripping with ire and disappointment. With one final, venomous glare at Jaeyun, she grabs her bag and storms out of the room, her footsteps echoing through the halls.

You're left standing there, the echoes of her departure ringing in your ears. Despite the sting of her words, you can't bring yourself to regret your decision to kick her out. At the end of the day, this is the dolls’ house and you wouldn’t like it if someone came into your flat and disrespected you or your belongings.

But you can’t help but process her words as you calm down. You know she is just looking out for you, showing her genuine concern because she knows what isolation can do to someone and their mental state, and maybe she is right. You are attached to the dolls way beyond your own comprehension and it’s taken you just now to truly realise it. 

You cussed out your best friend to protect the feelings of a doll. It's a sobering thought, one that fills you with a sense of unease and self-doubt. 

Maybe you should have gone with her, go back to your normal life, and forget about this place.

In the silence of the room, you turn to Jaeyun, and suddenly any wish to leave vanishes. Just like that. His face now upturned to look at you with sorrow. He looks so beautiful in this light that his being is almost angelic.

You cup his face with your hands, using your thumbs to stroke any semblance of comfort into him before speaking, "She doesn't mean it, Jaeyun," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper in the hushed atmosphere of the room, "She just doesn't understand."

Jaeyun nods slowly, knowing that you’re trying to appease his mind but what’s said has already bruised him. 

Kissing Jaeyun's nose, you offer him a tender smile before gently patting his cheeks. With a sigh, you reluctantly release your hold on him, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, "I'll go check on the others," you murmur softly,  "I'll be back in a bit."

_____

You shake off whatever you’re feeling and head through the mansion to help the other dolls. Admittedly, your task for moving them around has become much easier now that Jaeyun and Sunghoon move freely except for dinner time, which has freed up a good chunk of your time.

Each step you take echoes softly off the aged floorboards, their worn surfaces groaning beneath your weight. Sunlight filters sparingly through the windows, casting long shadows that dance across the dimly lit passages, adding to the eerie yet enchanting atmosphere of the mansion.

Sometimes you wonder about its history and its owner. How did a 20-something obtain such a grand house and why does she live alone? Of course, she has the boys but even then you can’t exactly take them on a night in the town. It’s so strange to see someone your age devoid of the usual life a young person would lead; no mobile, no wi-fi, not even a computer in sight. 

The more you stay here though, you understand her a little bit better. There’s a comfort in the way this mansion takes your superficial worries away, like how many likes you have on your Instagram post or how people perceive you in general. The eyes that follow you here can’t pass judgment on you, which at the beginning was terrifying but now brings you a strange sort of solace.

As you navigate the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion, you can't help but feel a sense of companionship with the dolls scattered throughout. With each step, you offer a soft greeting to your porcelain companions, their frozen expressions seeming to acknowledge your presence in return. If Mia stayed that day, maybe she wouldn’t have felt so threatened by them. 

"Hello there, lovely," you murmur as you pass a doll perched on a velvet chaise longue, her delicate features bathed in the subdued sunlight streaming through the window. You straighten her white-laced dress and smile politely.

Even though the porcelain girl remains silent, you know she’s thankful.

You asked Sunghoon if it was just the four of them who could talk, curious about the dolls that decorate the shelves of the house. He informed you that they aren't sentient beings but each one has a complex past and represents an identity in their own way. Ever since then, you’ve started to view them differently, a new appreciation for them blooming.

While you’re fixing a doll standing regally on the shelf by a towering grandfather clock, her elegant gown billowing around her like a ghostly mist, a faint melody drifts into your ears. It's a common occurrence, though typically happens in the dead of night. Sometimes, in the quiet hours, the strains of a piano tune or the gentle plucking of guitar strings would echo through the halls, adding to the mansion's eerie ambience. 

On your first few nights here, it made you quiver under your bed quilt but now you’ve come to find it a beautiful lullaby.

Following the source of the music, you're drawn to the open doors of the music room, their inviting stance beckoning you inside. Peering around the wall, you catch sight of one of the dolls seated with a guitar, fingers moving across the strings with practised ease.

His head hangs low, a curtain of dark brown hair obscuring half of his face, yet you recognize him instantly. It's Jongseong, his broad shoulders and golden complexion a telltale sign, along with his sharp jawline drawing attention to the almost heart-shaped mark on his neck. 

You can't help but admire the striking beauty that emanates from him, even in this quiet moment of solitude. Sunghoon and Jaeyun's stories about his kindness flood you and memories of his selfless gestures are etched vividly in your brain. 

You recall the time when Jongseong risked getting caught just to offer you a simple plaster for your pricked finger, his compassion shining through despite the potential consequences. And then there are the small, subtle acts of care that he continues to bestow upon you, like the glass of water that mysteriously appears by your bedside table each morning, a silent gesture of his thoughtfulness. 

Then there's the delicate daisy that sometimes rests on your pillow before you go to bed for the night, a token from the front garden that Jongseong must have plucked with care, knowing how much you adore its simple beauty. Every day you go outside and admire the flower as it basks in the summer sun, its life a brightness to contrast the otherwise dreary house.

Jaeyun and Sunghoon both deny any involvement in the sweet actions, leaving Jongseong as the only possible culprit.

“You can come in you know,” his voice suddenly speaks over the gently strum.

Your breath catches at the unexpected sound of his voice, and you freeze in place, startled by his acknowledgement of your presence. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if you imagined it, but the gentle strumming of the guitar persists, a soothing backdrop to his quiet words.

With cautious steps, you inch further into the room, the rhythmic thud of your heart echoing in your ears and adding percussion to his song. Jongseong's gaze remains fixed on the strings of the guitar, his hair casting shadows across his face that do little to mask his smirk.

Now how does he know that you know about him?

Jongseong suddenly screeches the guitar to a halt, his eyes lifting to meet yours with an air of knowingness, "You seem in shock for some reason," he observes, his voice soft yet perceptible in the stillness of the room. With careful precision, he returns the guitar to its glass cabinet.

Your heart skips a beat, torn between maintaining the facade of ignorance and embracing the truth about Jongseong's secret. As his gaze holds yours, uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving your voice hesitant and faltering. "I... I am?" you manage to utter, the words tinged with a hint of doubt.

Wow, so convincing, Y/N, you internally chastise yourself for the lacklustre response, feeling the weight of your indecision bearing down on you. But before you can gather your thoughts and make a quick save for your fumble.

"Jaeyun and Sunghoon are terrible liars," he remarks, his voice calm and composed. "And I saw you just there, comforting Jaeyun because of what your friend said."

His candid admission catches you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. Just like Sunghoon, Jongseong quickly discerned the truth, his thoughts solidified by Mia's careless words and your instinctive need to shield Jaeyun.

Exhaling slowly, you release the tension that had knotted your muscles, allowing yourself to relax a fraction. "She really doesn’t mean it," you clarify to Jongseong, hoping to ease his mind as you had done with his brother.

"It’s okay, you look fucking crazy, to be fair, fussing over some dolls," he replies, his tone surprisingly nonchalant, much to your relief. Considering Jongseong’s caring nature, you wouldn’t want her words to bruise his kind spirit.

You bristle at his casual reference to them as 'dolls,' unable to bear the thought of diminishing their significance, "You aren’t just 'some dolls,' Jongseong," you protest, your voice laced with compassion.

Rising from his seat, Jongseong offers a faint smile as he approaches you with unthreatening steps. "We know that, but she doesn’t. Don’t be too hard on her," he reassures calmingly, his words like a balm to the part of your brain that had been feuding with Mia, now quieting and subsiding under his simple wisdom.

As his hand gently strokes your hair, you feel a sense of comfort wash over you, his touch soothing the lingering unease in your mind. His fingers then trace down to your chin, his touch tender, "You’re good with him, you know, with Jaeyun," he observes softly, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that draws you in.

"He brings out a protective side of me, I don’t really know why," you admit quietly, your eyes locked with Jongseong's as you speak. His half-smirk in response only deepens the adoration reflected in your widened pupils. He closes his eyes like he knows something you don't.

Jongseong playfully pinches your chin before withdrawing his hand,  "Yeah, Soonyeol has been the same ever since she got him," he remarks.

"Have you been here longer than him?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued as you gesture towards the kitchen where you left Jaeyun.

"I’ve been here for…a long time," Jongseong reveals, his voice tinged with a hint of reminiscence, "Heeseung for 8, Sunghoon for 4, and Jaeyun just over a year.."

The weight of his words swirls in your mind, each year marking a chapter in their shared history within the mansion's walls. You find yourself marvelling at the depth of their experiences, each doll carrying different memories and stories within their hollow frames. It now makes sense why Jaeyun knows so little.

That nugget of information must also mean that Jongseong knows everything there is to know about this place, about each of his brothers, if he has been here for so long. Maybe asking him will unlock the mysteries of this place.

"I'm not trying to pry," you begin tentatively, causing Jongseong to lift his brow in curiosity, "But how can you guys...how are you able to talk?" Your voice trails off slightly as you pose the question, a hint of apprehension colouring your words.

To your surprise, Jongseong chuckles softly and smiles wider in response, "Sunghoon mentioned you were snooping around when you arrived," he remarks, a twinkle of amusement dancing in his eyes. After a moment of silence, he lets out a long breath, contemplating his next actions before continuing, "You won't give up until we tell you, will you?"

His words catch you off guard, a mixture of relief and curiosity flooding through you. Despite your initial hesitation, Jongseong's casual response reassures you, hopefully paving the way for an open and honest conversation that can curb your nosiness.

“Come on and I’ll show you.”

_____

With intertwined fingers, Jongseong leads you into the library, your mind buzzing with anticipation at the possibilities of what he could be showing you. You grip his hand tighter, excitement coursing through your veins as he pulls you towards the far end of the room.

But as you near that god-awful painting of the sheep, a sense of dread washes over you, sending a chill down your spine. Suddenly, you release Jongseong's hand, the realisation of what he's doing hitting you like a ton of bricks.

"Oh, no, no, no," you protest vehemently, shaking your head in refusal, "I am NOT going near that room."

Your mind flashes back to the burning sensation in your eyes, the eerie red light searing into your retinas. Over the past few weeks, you've actively avoided that creepy room, refusing to even glance in its direction. Your curiosity may be insatiable, but you draw the line at risking letting out whatever is in there just in the name of discovering a secret.

Your irises mirror the turmoil within you, reflecting the fear and trepidation that grips your heart. You've made a vow to steer clear of that door and any other painting in this place, focusing your investigations on less ominous artefacts like locked cupboards and hidden pages within books.

Jongseong looks at you with concern, his brows furrowing in disbelief as he processes your words, “You know about this door?" he asks incredulously, wondering how on earth you ever managed to find it.

"Yes, and I am not going near it," you retort defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest like a stubborn child, "It almost blinded me!"

As you stand your ground, refusing to budge an inch, Jongseong's expression softens, his concern evident in the gentle gaze he fixes upon you, "I promise you, Sweetheart, there is nothing in there that can hurt you, not when I'm with you, okay?" he reassures, his hand finding yours once more as he brings it to his lips, kissing away the surge of fear that threatens to engulf you.

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, knowing that he will protect you from whatever dangers may lie beyond that wooden door.

With a hesitant nod, you allow Jongseong to lead you forward, you trust him but you’re still cautious enough to keep your wits about you, trailing two steps behind him.

Reaching the top of the wooden panel that frames the door, he takes the spare key and unlocks the door. It was really in front of you the entire time and you had no clue; you’re no Sherlock Holmes, that’s for sure.

You let out a breath and scrunch your face, being ready for anything as he swings the door open. Yet, you’re met with darkness - no red light, no flickering flames, nothing like what you saw through the keyhole.

But why does that scare you more?

Jongseong pulls you in, his grip on your hand loosening as he flicks on some lanterns. The room, once plunged with darkness now has a soft glow from the lanterns as they gradually illuminate the space, revealing its secrets in flickering shadows.

It's a stark contrast to the rest of the mansion, with its black stone walls absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. The air feels heavy with the weight of something you can’t put your finger on, every corner whispering tales of those you’ll never understand or know.

In the centre of the room stands an altar, its surface weathered with age and a stone bowl resting atop it like an ancient relic. Symbols etched into the stone tell stories that you can’t translate, the old language lost on you.

As you take in the sight before you, a shiver runs down your spine, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity coursing through your veins. Where did the red light come from if everything in here looks like it belongs in the Addams Family house?

"What is all this?" you ask, your curiosity overcoming any sense of apprehension as you creep closer to the altar. It's reminiscent of ones you've seen in movies depicting satanic rituals, yet even with its eerie aura, you can't resist the urge to touch it, your fingers tracing the lines of its rim.

"The office," Jongseong replies casually, as if this were a mundane space for everyday tasks like taxes and emails. He flicks on the last lantern and shuts the door firmly, ensuring privacy and avoiding suspicion from any passersby.

As you stand mesmerised by the ceremonial bowl, Jongseong notices your admiration and smiles, "This is the ceremonial bowl," he begins to explain, his body now behind yours, his presence both comforting and electrifying as he presses slightly against you. His fingers intertwine with yours, guiding your touch along the edge of the bowl, "This is how we were summoned"

"Summoned?" you echo, your voice barely above a whisper as you turn to face Jongseong, your eyes wide with disbelief and intrigue.

“Oh, Sweetheart, to bring a doll to life, you need to give it an entity.”

“An entity as in…”

“Any form of life; angel, demon, human, that sort of thing. Someone calls and we answer”

The revelation sends a chill down your spine, the idea of imbuing a doll with the essence of a supernatural being is both fascinating and terrifying.

As you process this new information, you can't help but wonder about the origins of the dolls in this mansion, and the entities that dwell within them. They all possess such different charms and energies that you can only imagine each of them comes from different channels of spirits.

“So what are you then?” you ask Jongseong, your voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of trepidation.

“I’ll leave you to guess that one,” he replies cryptically, pressing himself up against you until your back meets the edge of the altar. The cool stone digs into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"But you aren’t scared of me, are you, Sweetheart?" he continues, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. You shake your head, unable to deny the truth, "Then that will give you some clue," he murmurs, his words hanging in the air between you like a tantalizing riddle waiting to be solved.

You stand locked in this intimate embrace, his presence gentle despite the surroundings. 

“What about your bodies?” you inquire, your curiosity getting the better of you even though you're not entirely sure what you're asking. Obviously, they didn’t come from the pits of hell or wherever they're from, but you're curious about how Soonyeol managed to choose four dolls, each so perfectly suited to their personalities.

Jongseong tilts his head slightly, considering your question before responding, "Our bodies are vessels," he explains, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery, “We were crafted by the hands of Soonyeol, infused with the ashes of her loved ones.”

Jongseong's response sends shivers down your arms and legs, his words so compelling that they leave you speechless for a minute, "Infused with the ashes of her loved ones?" you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, your head whirling, your throat dry as you attempt to swallow your nerves.

But before you can fully process what he said, Jongseong breaks out laughing, the sound reverberating off the walls of the poorly lighted room, "She just ordered them online," he says between laughter, his tone lighthearted. "That part isn't as evil unless you count the CO2 emissions from the planes."

Relief floods through you as you realise he’s just joking. You can't help but join in his laughter, the tension melting away as you shake your head in disbelief.

"Oh, you had me going there for a moment," you admit with a chuckle, feeling foolish for having been momentarily taken in by his playful deception.

Jongseong grins mischievously, his eyes twinkling with mirth, "I can give you the link to the site if you want? I know how much fun you’ve been having with the younger ones," he remarks, his laughter fading into a sly grin.

Your cheeks burn crimson at Jongseong's implication, and you shy away slightly, feeling a familiar wave of embarrassment wash over you. It's the same feeling you experienced when Sunghoon called you out for your rendezvous with Jaeyun, a reminder of the unconventional nature of your relationships with the dolls.

You can't shake the nagging feeling that at the end of the day, you're still fucking dolls, no matter how much Sunghoon and Jaeyun reassure you to embrace it. To be fair, the embarrassment hasn’t stopped you yet.

Seeing your flushed face even in the dim light, Jongseong's expression softens with understanding. He cradles your cheeks in his palms, his touch gentle as he strokes your flushed skin, "I'm not judging you, Princess," he murmurs, his voice tender. "I'm just feeling a little left out." He says playfully, making it hard to tell if he is serious or not.

But still his words catch you off guard and you meet his stare with a mixture of surprise and confusion. At that moment, you realise that Jongseong embodies the best of both worlds - the kindness and empathy of Jaeyun, coupled with the confidence and assurance of Sunghoon, coupled with his charm. It's a combination that draws you to him even more, creating a sense of longing.

Throwing caution to the wind, you act on impulse, letting go of any lingering doubts or hesitations. With a surge of boldness, you lean up and press your lips against Jongseong's, catching him off guard with the suddenness of your actions.

His eyes widen in shock at your sudden boldness, but they quickly darken with unmistakable hunger as he responds eagerly to your advance, smothering your mouth with his.

The kiss is electric, igniting a firestorm of sensations that consume you both, leaving you breathless and craving more. His lips are soft yet demanding against yours, his hands finding purchase on your waist as he pulls you closer, his touch somehow searing hot through your skin.

Jongseong groans as he dances his tongue with yours, the artificial buds on his muscle soaking in your taste. You suck on his tongue softly, eliciting a low snarl from him, his hand coming up to grip your hair roughly, while yours slide up his t-shirt, feeling the bumps of his toned tummy.

Drawing back from his lips, you see his entity burning with desire, his grip on you tightening, “Have you ever been fucked on an altar?” he asks, a smirk obvious on his face even in the dull lighting.

“No,” you breathe out, your chest heaving from the kiss.

“I’ll change that for you…if you’re a good girl,” he teases, the hand wrapped in the strands of your hair pushing your head down until you’re slowly following his guidance, sinking to your knees. From this angle, he looks like a god, a being worth worshipping as his aura glows white.

You know exactly what he wants and you’re willing to give it to him without question.

He undoes his belt with one hand, whipping it off hastily and placing it on the altar. You start to undo his trousers but as you move to assist him, your actions are abruptly halted by a sharp tug on your hair, forcing you back with a gasp.

Tears threaten to well in your eyes as the roots of your hair protest the forceful grip, but Jongseong's touch softens as quickly as it had hurt you, his hand now tenderly soothing the discomfort he caused.

"I need you to be good for me. It’s important to be good," he asserts, his voice commanding yet soft, "Only act when I say so, understood? I don't want to have to punish you, Princess. You don’t want that either, do you?"

His choice of words and gentle warning only add to the dampness in your pants, the material fully sticking to your wet cunt. You swallow hard as every word, every touch from Jongseong ignites your sense of being.

Both his hands are now on your cheeks, trapping you to look at him, “Words, Princess, use them,” he orders.

Shaking your head, you wonder if you want to obey him and avoid punishment as part of you wonders how far he could go with it.

Jongseong’s a gentle soul with kindness pouring out of him, you question whether it’s a facade to hide something more demanding underneath. Either way, you trust him, so even if you wanted to get a little bratty, you know he would cause you no real harm.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, licking your lips as you anticipate his cock laying firm on your tongue. 

“Sweetheart, I’ll let you off this once, yeah? Just make sure you listen from now on,” Jongseong offers you a smile, patting your cheeks lightly before continuing, “If you ever want to stop, or I go too far, you tell me immediately. No amount of my pleasure is worth your discomfort.”

Smiling, you nod and quickly remember his instructions, “I will, Jongseong.”

Jongseong's gaze relaxes further with an accepting nod, and his touch is delicate against your skin, "Good girl," he says, his words a quiet affirmation of your submission.

He gives you the go-ahead to continue undoing his trousers which you eagerly do, your fingers quick to release the silver button and pull down his zip, leaving his trousers pooled at his ankles. You can see his member in the protruding silhouette of his boxers. Out of all the dolls, you’ve been most impressed by Jongseong, his cock is everything a person could dream of; girthy, long, like something off of Love Honey in the best seller’s section. 

You discard his boxers next, leaving his member to spring into action. He is so fucking beautiful, you think to yourself, admiring every part of the craftsmanship that went into making such a wonder. Raising your hand, you go to wrap your hand around him gently but you pause, realising you probably need to be told that you can indulge yourself.

Jongseong notices your hesitation and lets out a chuckle, his smile morphing into a knowing smirk as you meet his gaze with eager anticipation, "You're free to go, Princess" he announces, much to your delight, and you need no further encouragement.

Grabbing the base of his shaft you pump him a few times, the soft feeling of his skin welcomed along your fingertips. You open your mouth, staring at him as you lick the tip of his shaft a few times, each time pulsing in your hand. The mechanics of these cocks is a wonder, how realistic they all are.

He gathers your hair in his hands, brushing the wispy strands from your face adoringly, careful not to be too rough with you just yet. You look beautiful to him right now, your tongue swirling around his head, the saliva trail you’re leaving behind every time you remove your plump lips to gather your breath. Soonyeol is beautiful, but you’re like his dream come true. There’s a pang of guilt as he thinks about it but when you start sucking his cock lightly, every thought goes out the window.

Hollowing your cheeks, you pump his cock and use your tongue to massage his bell in your warm mouth, the sensation of his cold cock in contrast to your warmth adds a new layer to your pleasure, already excited to feel him deep in your heat. 

His size makes it difficult to fully take him in, so you use a combination of hand and mouth technique. You see the small subtleties in Jongseong's expression - the wrinkle of his brow, the tightening hold of his fist that inadvertently tugs at your hair again - and realise he doesn't mind how you are approaching it, he maybe even loves it.

It gives you a flutter in your tummy as you see his jaw slacking and his hips subconsciously twitching with pleasure. You’re an overachiever, have been your whole life, and while this is doing him wonders right now, you know you can do better.

Popping off his cock, you tap him on your outstretched tongue, grinning widely when his eyes meet yours. With his attention on you, you force him back in your throat, gagging slightly but relishing in the burn, your hands gripping his muscular thighs.

He hisses as with each bob, he hits your throat, “Fuck,” he grits out, pushing slightly to test the boundaries, and when you gag loudly, saliva dripping down your chin with a spurt, he instantly retreats, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he soothes, his hand lifting your chin.

But you liked it, weirdly, the feeling of choking on his cock stirred something inside you, and your thighs become sticky with your arousal that is dripping down - and Jongseong noticed.

“Wait did you like it?” he asks, tightening his hold on your jaw, “You want me to fuck that beautiful throat of yours wide open?” 

God, yes.

With a nod and eyes full of want, you silently express your desire for him to completely ruin you. However, as you resume, a swift smack to your cheek jolts you, rendering a grimace as you look up at him, perplexed.

"Words, Sweetheart, be a good girl," Jongseong prompts, his voice carrying both authority and care. A flicker of understanding crosses his expression as he reaches out to stroke your cheek where his hand had landed moments before. "I'm here to give you what you need," he reassures, his touch tender against your skin, "But you have to tell me."

With a deep breath, you muster the courage to voice your desire, "I want you to fuck my throat," you whisper.

"That wasn’t so hard, was it?" he murmurs, his tone gentle as he encourages your honesty. ain some ways, submitting to a man like this is embarrassing, yet you can’t help but feel completely in control at the same time. He’s giving you the option to have whatever you want, something the other two don’t let you do. Jaeyun lets you take control but it’s all for his pleasure, not for your own, and Sunghoon doesn’t let you do anything on your own at all.

As Jongseong begins to push into your mouth, an upsurge of sensations overwhelms you: the hardness of him filling your mouth, the taste of him combining with your saliva, and the sting of tears welling up in your eyes. Despite this, a pleasure runs through your veins, sparking a burning yearning within you, you want more of him, desperately.

Jongseong's voice cut through the veil of your shared satisfaction, "You're doing so well, Sweetheart," he says, his words a calming symphony contrasting to the burning in your throat.

You respond with a muffled moan, your mouth full as you eagerly take him in, your body responding instinctively to his every touch. 

"I love how you take me," Jongseong whispers, his voice laced with reverence and desire, "You're so good for me. You were born to suck on my cock.”

His words alone are making your clit throb and you can’t take the emptiness, so, you reach down and dip your hand into your panties, circling your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. He continues chanting your praises, so lost in the feeling of your mouth that he hasn’t noticed you seek your own pleasure.

As Jongseong continues to revel in the pleasure of your mouth, a sudden interruption jolts him from his trance-like state. Feeling the subtle shift in your movements, he realises what you’re up to.

With a swift motion, he withdraws from your mouth, his grip firm on your head as he pulls you up to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, a mix of desire and admonition as he takes in the sight of you, flushed and needy, beneath him.

"Sweetheart, what do you think you're doing?" he chides, his voice low but commanding, “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself, did it?"

“N-no…I just need you so bad, Jongseong.”

Your quivering voice of desperation makes Jongseong’s knees weak, that playful yet needy glint in your eye begging him to take you on the altar. He knows he has to punish you but you look so fucking sweet with your lips plump and drool on either side of your mouth that he’s almost forgiving you. You speak about the power the dolls have, but you have no idea the power you hold over them.  

But he knows he can't let your transgression go unpunished. With a sigh, he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch gentle but firm. "I understand, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice tinged with feigned regret, "But rules are rules, and I can't make exceptions."

You accidentally let out a groan of frustration, rubbing your thighs together, hoping the friction can tide you over until he touches you.

sighing, Jongseong reaches out to caress your trembling thighs, his touch gentle yet possessive, "I know you're desperate," he murmurs into your neck, teasingly hovering over your nape with his lips, “So get on the fucking altar.”

With a whimper of surrender, you comply without hesitation, the anticipation of what's to come heightening your senses as you hoist up on the alter, positioning yourself on the edge. Every nerve in your body hums with anticipation, the need for his touch driving you to the brink of madness.

You’re glad that you wore a sundress today, planning to have a fun girls' day with Mia had its benefits even if it went horribly wrong.

In an instant, he rips off your panties, tossing them in the alter bowl haphazardly and hikes the skirt of your dress to your waist. Your pussy looks so delectable that he thinks prolonging stuffing you with his cock might be a punishment to himself rather than you.

But Jongseong is a man of his word, and if he doesn’t let Soonyeol away with anything, he certainly can’t let you. 

He slaps your thigh sharply, a red mark appearing instantly against your skin, “Move back,” he demands, slapping your thigh once again. His tone is authoritive so you do as you’re told, not wanting to disappoint him anymore.

You spread your legs without direction, hoping your compliance will warrant an early yield in your punishment, whatever it may be. Jongseong licks his lips and smiles triumphantly, falling into your trap.

Yet, just as you begin to feel a glimmer of relief, Jongseong's hand comes down with brutal force, striking your pussy with a harsh slap that echoes through the room. The pain is searing, making you cry out in shock and agony, the sound reverberating off the walls as your body recoils from the impact. Each consecutive smack creates a new wave of pain, coupled with a surge of stimulation that makes you dizzy with sensations.

With each hit, Jongseong's expression regret, yet his actions are a contradiction of brutality, "I'm sorry, Princess," he says between strikes, his voice heavy with sorrow, even as his hand strikes you again, "I know it hurts but every act of defiance deserves punishment," Jongseong whispers, his voice an odd soothing balm, "We’re almost done, just two more, you can handle that right?”

His question, paired with the gentle caress of his fingers against your throbbing pussy, relaxes you, knowing that he meant it when he said he would stop if you wanted him to. Even now, as he looks at you, he's silently permitting you to end this.

But you don't want to. Not yet. The ache between your legs, the desperate need for him, drives you to endure just a little longer, "I can take it, Jongseong," you utter, your voice steady despite the trembling of your body. With a slow exhale, you brace yourself for the final two strikes, determined to prove your endurance and earn the reward awaiting you.

Jongseong's gaze softens with admiration, his hand hovering momentarily before delivering the next blow, "You're so strong, Princess," he murmurs, his voice laced with genuine admiration, "I'm proud of you."

The words, spoken amid your ordeal, fill you with a sense of validation, a reassurance that despite the pain, you're still cherished and valued in his eyes. Even though he warned you this would happen and you disobeyed him, he still gives you praise.

He delivers the last smack with force, putting punctuation on the end of your punishment, hoping that you’ve learned your lesson. And by fuck you have.

Bringing you forward, he sits you up straight, "You've done so well," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead, "Now, let me take care of you."

Without hesitation, he takes his cock and slides himself inside your throbbing pussy, the sensation being both a culmination of need and a reminder of the pain you've endured. 

But as he begins to move within you, the rhythm of his thrusts slow and deliberate, you find yourself surrendering to the pleasure that washes over you. The intensity of the moment is overwhelming as you finally get what you've been craving for.

You moan softly, your hands grasping at his shoulders as you surrender to the intoxicating rhythm of his touch.

But just as you feel yourself on the brink of ecstasy, Jongseong pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for more. "Please," you whimper, your voice thick with need.

Jongseong's fingers find their way to your throbbing clit, flicking it with expert precision, "Not yet, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, "I want to make this last."

The sensation is electrifying, sending you reeling with desire as Jongseong teases you mercilessly. "Jongseong," you plead, your voice a desperate cry for more but he only chuckles, his touch driving you to the edge of sanity as he pushes you closer and closer to the brink.

And then, just when you think you can't take it any longer, he plunges back inside you, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to the edge of oblivion once more, "Yes!" you cry out, your body arching against his as pleasure consumes you.

Just as you're about to tip over the edge, Jongseong grips your throat gently, his touch both commanding and reassuring, posing no real threat, "You're such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he grabs your attention, "Yet, you've been so bad. Snooping around, looking at things you shouldn't, fucking things that aren't yours." There’s a sly grin on his face as he pulls out again, leaving your hole clenching around nothing, tears threatening to fall as your impending orgasm is ripped away from you again.

Jongseong continues to torment you, his words cutting through the haze of desire, you can't help but feel a sense of vulnerability wash over you, "Was the last punishment enough for everything you've been up to?" he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and a hint of warning.

Your breath catches in your throat as you meet his stare, the weight of his question hanging heavy in the air. You know that you've pushed the boundaries, looking around the mansion even when you promised Sunghoon you wouldn’t, and indulged in pleasures that were not yours to claim.

With a shaky breath, you nod slowly, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes, Jongseong," you murmur, your heart pounding in your chest, "I've learned my lesson."

“Oh, yeah?” he smirks, looking at the ceremonial bowl prettily decorated with your frilly underwear, “You sure?”

Your desperation mounts as you chant a series of "Yes's," your pleas echoing in the cold air of the room. Every fibre of your being screams for him, the ache between your legs driving you to the brink of madness.

And just when you think you can't bear the anticipation any longer, Jongseong plunges back into you, his gaze still fixated on your underwear. The intensity of his thrusts sends shivers of pleasure running through your hot veins, yet beneath it all, a nagging curiosity tugs at the edges of your consciousness.

If you were in your right mind, you would question his fascination with the garments adorning the ceremonial bowl. As he picks up the frilly underwear with his middle finger, a spike of anticipation plagues you, mingling with the pulsating waves of pleasure emanating from his touch. And then, his voice cuts through the air, commanding and authoritative.

"Spit on them, Sweetheart," he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Without hesitation, you comply, summoning every ounce of saliva you can muster before releasing it onto the delicate fabric. The sight of your saliva coating the underwear sends a shiver down your spine, a mix of arousal and confusion swirling within you.

But before you can question his motives, Jongseong's touch intensifies, driving you to the brink of ecstasy once more and rips it away as he tosses the underwear into the bowl once more. 

“No! Please, please, don’t stop fucking me, Jongseong. I promise I won’t snoop around or do anything without you telling me to.”

Your voice is desperate but you don’t care, if he denies you of your orgasm even just once more, you might die on this altar you’re perched on.

Jongseong's eyes light up with expectation, his hand tightening around your throat in a possessive hold while his other lingers over the ceremonial bowl, his muttering casting a dark spell in a foreign language.

Then suddenly, the crimson light floods the room, the same flash of red that almost blinded you. Terror holds you like a vice, pulling at your senses while flames lick hungrily in the air. Instinct urges you to go, to escape the flame that threatens to engulf you, but Jongseong's grip holds you tied to the altar.

There is no escape.

"Shhh, Princess it's okay, it won't hut you. I just need you to beg me," he says, his stare penetrating through the chaos with uncompromising focus, his left hand now sliding to tap on your clit with planned precision, sending waves of thrill surging through your body as he continues, lips hovering yours in a whisper, “Let Hell hear how much you need my cock.”

Hell.

The fire that is burning your skin beside you, that’s what you saw that day through the keyhole, you came face to face with the underworld. And now Jongseong’s opened it up beside you.

Summoning every ounce of courage you possess, you meet his gaze, your voice a trembling whisper as you utter the words he demands. "Please, Jongseong," you beg, the desperation in your tone echoing through the dimly lit chamber, "Fuck me, I need your cock so fucking bad."

His grasp on your throat tightens somewhat, a subtle acceptance of your surrender. With a hungry grin, he moves in closer, his breath hot on your ear, whispering pretty promises, and as his hand continues to work its magic on your clit,  you totally yield to him despite the fear rising inside you.

Kissing you, he fucks back into you, letting go of your throat and focusing all his attention on making you feel good, his hands finding home on your hips. 

The more you moan, the more intense the fire becomes, some of the flicker burning your arm. Jongseong notices your unease and focuses your eyes to look only at him, “It can’t hurt you, I wouldn’t let them,” he whispers, his words causing more confusion but you’re already so far gone, lost in the feeling of his cock punching into your cervix that you can’t question him.

"You're doing fucking amazing, Sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice filled with admiration and desire. "I want you to scream my name, let all those fucks know what a good girl you are, that you’ll never be like them.” His jab at those below you in the underworld makes your skin tingle.

With each thrust, pleasure courses through you like wildfire, igniting every nerve ending and leaving you breathless with ecstasy. And as you surrender to the overwhelming pleasure, you heed Jongseong's command, your screams echoing through the chamber as you give yourself over to him.

The flames in the bowl seem to dance to the rhythm of you and Jongseong’s passionate encounter, with each blow of his cock piercing your open, the more you cry out, and that excited the crimson glow.

As the intensity of your pleasure builds to a crescendo, you feel yourself teetering on the edge, every fibre of your being yearning for release. And with one final, desperate cry, you let go, surrendering yourself completely to the overwhelming waves of ecstasy that wash over you.

Jongseong feels you coming undone and follows suit, his cock twitching inside you and hips pushing him as far as he can reach inside you. 

Once the fires begin to fade, leaving just embers blazing gently in the darkness, you feel yourself returning to reality, your senses gradually returning to you. You notice the air is thick with the odour of burnt cloth and the remains of the fire that previously raged around you.

With a shock, you look down and notice the charred remains of your underwear smouldering in the ceremonial bowl, the flames having eaten them in their fervour. Panic grabs you for a minute, but suddenly Jongseong's voice breaks through the quiet, his words a calming salve.

"I get why the others are obsessed with you, Y/N," he says, his tone filled with admiration and longing, "You belong here, I know you do."

Despite his assuring words and gentle touch as he slips out of you, his hands soothing where he has left marks, lingering questions gnaw at the edges of your mind. "Jongseong," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, "what was that fire? And what did you mean by 'those fucks' down there? Was it hell?"

Jongseong’s expression softens, his fingers gently caressing your thighs, his actions were stupid and selfish in the name of his brothers and Soonyeol. He knows he shouldn’t have done that, but he just had to show you off, let everyone know that you were his at least once, “Y/N," he says softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and concern, "there are some things you're better off not knowing. Trust me."

His words give you pause but you’re sick of the secrecy now, “Tell me, Jongseong. I will find out one way or another,” you press him, hoping your tone is half as commanding as he was, “Just tell me, what the fuck was that?”

“Go to Heeseung. He can explain it far better than I can and to be honest, I don’t want to see your face when you find out,” he says suddenly, his tone firm but gentle. Confusion flickers in your eyes, but before you can question him further, Jongseong presses a tender kiss to your forehead, “I will warn you though, Sweetheart, he won’t take kindly to being last.”

taglist: @nshmrarki @kgneptun @ui11iane @addictedtohobi @parksunghoonsgf @chaewonshoney @chiiiiiiiiis @lilyuwon @rayofsunshineeee @moon7jay @erehkinnie30 @brownsugarbaybee @minniejenseo @woninluv @jaysluvs @fakeuwus @capri-cuntz @ash024 @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan @vousty @heeseungspookie @alvojake @yorukoshii @haechonly @riftanswhore @belowbun @emi-en @branchrkive @featjunranghae @thejjrl @nyxtwixx @sunghoonnsupremacy @nctislifue @itsnikitty @enhypenlovre

[jewish-vents]

I went to the Jewish quarter in Toledo today and I really don’t know how to feel. I’m part Sephardi, my ancestors most likely lived here at some point. I went to the Beit Knesset they would have went to, the oldest one in Europe, I think— it’s a museum now. Part of the floor was clearly new, and part of the floor was clearly ancient. I took a picture of the ancient part, the part that my ancestors would have also stepped on. There was a cross right under the two orange windows representing the Ten Commandments that Moshe brought down, and right next to that there were Christian murals of baby angels. It was beautiful, but there was such a tangible sadness to it, deadness, almost, that I couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable. The non Jewish tourists didn’t notice it, and that made me even more uncomfortable

There was a gift shop right next to the Beit Knesset. They were selling menorahs, not chanukias, seven-pronged menorahs— and all I could think of was ‘who is this for? Not for the Jewish tourists who come here, obviously, menorahs are for Beitei Knesset, not for home. Who is this for?’ It felt wrong. Later on, I saw the exact same menorahs in a different shop, a street away. This isn’t Judaica— Judaica isn’t mass produced like that, normally it’s handmade. It’s made with love, with care, it’s made with a Jewish touch. None of the items in this gift shop have a Jewish touch to them. Feeling like I was selling out my people, I bought a couple magen David magnets from there anyway

The Jewish part of Toledo feels… I’m not sure how to say it, but it’s like a remnant. You can tell that there was something before this, but that something is gone, it’s been wiped out. And that something was Jewish. And now it just drifts through this town, like dust, never properly gone but never enough than a vague feeling. And on top of all of that is a thick layer of Catholicism, and the knowledge of the brutality that brought this Jewish cultural centre to decimation

Toledo doesn’t really acknowledge what it did to its Jews. There’s a small square on the wall of a very old house, one that most certainly used to belong to a Jew before, that talks about Shmuel Levi, saying how he would rather have died by torture than become a confessor— they call him Samuel there, though, and I feel kind of stupid for how much I resent that. But that’s it. Instead they’re giving museum tours of the two Beite Knesset that used to exist before they were converted to being churches, and then war rooms, and now attractions. They’re selling Judaica that isn’t Judaica, right next to figures of Yeshu bleeding out on the cross. They’ve got small חי tiles on the corners of the street, but all I can think of is the Jews that were slaughtered in this town by the ancestors of the people who are now living in what were their houses

All I can think of is the pork being sold everywhere, and all the chametz people are eating before the sun sets on the last day of pesach

(sorry for the pretentious poetic language, I’m a writer I can’t help it)

Thank you for sharing this. There is something almost haunting about visiting places that were once Jewish but aren't anymore. I once saw a quote somewhere about how Memory is a sixth sense for Jewish people (I don't remember where I saw it but will try to find it again). Reading this reminded me of that.

I don't have many words of comfort. I actually don't live that far from Toledo. Our shul is tiny, but we have a kosher Torah from the time of the Inquisition. We outlived them.

-🐺

[tsimvkas]

show me how — mason mount.

A/N: ik it’s game night but im fucking ANXIOUS and when i finish something i just need to post it!! elisa asked for this one so thanks or complaints are on her 🙇🏻‍♀️

word count: 4.8k | masterlist

content: innocent!reader losing her virginity with mase that’s it thanks

Since you met Mason, you had always find it hard how he was so open about sex. How it was such a natural thing for him.

You understand that being a boy gave him this privilege, and that your lack of experience made you naturally more shy about it. You still can’t believe Mason Mount was your first.

It hadn’t been easy admitting to him on one of your dates before you slept together, but he was gentle about it, actually letting you lead every make out session and only going as far as you would let him.

And it took you a long time to let him go actually far. Not that you didn’t want to sleep with him — you were dying to be properly touched by Mason.

But he’s Mason. A footballer who slept with countless girls, all of them more experienced than you. Even though he was really sweet about it and telling you he’d teach you everything when you were ready, you still felt insecure.

This only changed on a soft and cosy night six months after you started dating… five weeks ago.

The pair of you only got to see each other during weekdays and the weekends Mason had home matches, so the weeks you could share together were divided into a week at his and another at yours.

It was a cosy night at his, cooking pasta together and watching Spider-Man on his sofa. Mason was laying on his back with half of your body on top of his, his hand underneath your shirt, rubbing circles against your back.

When the movie ended, he turned the tv off and stretched his body, making you giggle before readjusting yours.

“Bed time?” he murmured, kissing the tip of your nose, but you could barely process his words.

He’s so pretty, and you got lost admiring his features. His warm eyes, the tiny and sleepy smile, the corner of his mouth and the uncountable amount of freckles on his face.

Leaning your face upwards, you shyly pecked his lips. Mason smiled, knowing you find it hard to initiate kisses with him, and kissed you back. Properly this time.

It started slow and gentle, and you melted against his body. Your boyfriend had the power to make you dizzy with just a kiss, and your had to grab his shoulder to be sure you weren’t falling off the sofa.

Mason squeezed your waist, sneakily sliding his hand to your bum. It was something you both had agreed was fine for you, and he’d often slap it whilst passing through you, or cheekily grabs it during a movie session. He hadn’t done it whilst kissing you yet.

When you slightly opened your mouth, a bit surprised by his actions, Mason slid his tongue inside. He was still kissing you very softly, but it suddenly wasn’t what you wanted anymore.

Moving your hand to Mason’s neck, you felt a heat washing over you, adjusting your body on top of his. Instead of being laid flat against him, you were suddenly with your knees on either side of him, never breaking the kiss.

Obviously, he noticed the shift in your mood. But Mason isn’t the type of guy to jump in the first opportunity, and he wanted to be sure you really wanted to take the next step.

So instead of making any comments or trying to make things hotter, he just laid there, with you on top of him, your tongue deliciously slotting against each other.

When you pulled away just enough to breathe, Mason caressed your chin, giving you that precious mouth closed smile and waiting for your next step.

“I love you” you murmured, tracing his lips with the pad of your fingers.

Mason pretended to bite your fingers, gently squeezing your waist. “I love you, princess”

The way he whispered the pet name instantly got you kissing him again, swallowing his giggle. When your hips unconsciously moved Mason audibly groaned, the sound making your cheeks feel warm.

You gasped at the feeling of his boner against your core. The friction was too good, and you found yourself eagering for it.

Grabbing Mason’s hair and gently pulling it, you started to grind on top of him. Your boyfriend wasn’t exactly expecting it, letting out a loud moan.

“Princess- Y/N, wait” he held your waist in place. “Not here, baby”

“Why not?” you pouted, feeling your cheeks hotter than ever and not being sure if he was denying you.

Mason smiled, stroking your jaw.

“We can fuck on the couch how many times do you want later, but first time is a special one yeah? I need you to be comfortable” he kissed your pout.

“Oh” you mumbled, now feeling a bit ashamed for trying to initiate it and getting caught. You were imagining this would be like in the movies and Mason wouldn’t even pay attention to the fact that it’s your first time. “I just-”

“I’ve been watching you slowly getting ready every week, you know?” he interrupted you. “Your kisses were getting sloppier and your hands started traveling my body more. And last week when you pulled my hair- God, baby. You make me so desperate for you and you have no idea. But I know how it feels to idealise a first time and how movies and books, especially those you read, can make you think the first time can be treated like any other time. It can’t. I won’t fuck you today”

“I got it the first time, Mase” you avoided his eyes, trying not to let the disappointment flood you.

Mason held your chin, making you look at him before kissing your cheek.

“We’ll make love instead, yeah?” he murmured, brushing his nose against your cheekbone and almost making you choke. “Gonna take my time, in my bed. If you still want it”

“I want you. I want you really bad” you admitted, your hand playing with his hair.

“So, can I take you to my bed now? I have a new blanket and I promise is really fluffy”

“I bet it is” you tucked your face in the crock of his neck, hugging his shoulders and waiting for him to sit, adjust your legs around him and get up.

Without rushing, Mason took you upstairs. He gently laid you down on his bed, and the sheets were indeed really fluffy.

Laying between your legs, he kissed you for long minutes, working to get you back in the right mood. After a while, he brushed your hair out of your face and looked you in the eyes before letting you help to undress him.

You stared at his body whilst your boyfriend got off of you to take off his shorts. You had seen Mason’s body a few times, during holidays at the beach and pool days, but nothing like this. Nothing near to the feeling of watching your man freeing his hard cock and then crawling back to you.

He stuck to his words that night. Mason took his time to undress you gently, looking at every part of you as if he was trying to memorise it. He built anticipation, kissing your skin and whispering sweet nothings to you before getting you ready for him.

And soon you realised he was right. It would’ve been really difficult to do it on the couch.

Even though you tried to relax and Mason kept reminding you of it, your body still felt the need to go stiff at every new intrusion of his fingers. Plus, it burned. A lot.

Giving you time to adjust and never rushing you, your boyfriend kept reassuring you every step of the way.

When the sensation of his fingers started to feel better and the only thing crossing your mind was him, Mason asked you once more if you still felt ready to let him have you like that.

Nodding, you waited for him to position himself.

“Relax, baby” Mason murmured in your ear. You tried to, taking a deep breath and letting go, but the intrusion of his tip was enough to make you bite a painful moan.

Inch by inch, he gave you minutes to adjust until you would tell him it was ok to move again. Being the sentimental you ever were, your eyes filled with a few tears and when one of them slid, he gently kissed.

When Mason finally penetrated you completely, he completely stopped moving, kissing your forehead and your eyelids, brushing his lips against your temple.

You knew he desperately wanted to move. You knew that that was the moment he would lose control with an experienced woman, but instead of being filled by envy and jealousy or even insecurity, your heart pounded with love at the way he was focusing on you.

If Mason wanted someone to simply fuck whilst enjoying himself, he could have it. But he was there, paying attention to your body and your needs, wanting to show you the good part of it.

“I think you can move” you told him, but he shook his head no.

“Not yet” he kissed your jaw and your neck, sinking into you a little bit more and sighing. “You feel so good. So cosy and warm” he said playfully, making you giggle. “What? I’m being serious”

“You feel good too” you tried to smile, but all you could do was focus on how it really hurts. You knew it would, but you were expecting a silly pain, something easily ignored.

“Don’t need to lie to me, I know it’s still hurting” he gently brushed his nose against your neck. “It will feel good soon, tho. I promise”

“Ok” you nodded, trying to relax your body. The burn sensation was starting to fade away, but it was still so weird having Mason inside of you.

Still not moving, he started to kiss your neck, slightly sucking on the spot beneath your ear before trailing kisses down your shoulder.

When he came back to kiss your lips, sliding his tongue inside your mouth and groaning, you felt a different kind of heat where your bodies met.

“Mase” you whined, starting to feel impatient.

“I know. Believe me, I know” he stared at you, his big brown eyes only making you feel more needy. “Be patient for me and I’ll make it worthy”

When you nodded, he kissed you again. It felt like kissing him for hours, his tongue slotting against yours, his hand cupping your face whilst he tried to kiss you deeper. When he pulled his body slightly away and his cock slid with no difficulties, you audibly gasped.

“See?” he kept kissing your face, whispering against your ear. “You were too nervous, baby. Thinking too much. Needed to make my girl wet again”

Now that he mentioned it, you could feel what his kisses have done to you. It was like adding oil to a bicycle chain, and the comparison made you chuckle.

Your giggles didn’t last long though, instantly turning into a moan when Mason made his first real move. He thought the sound of you moaning beneath him could actually make him pass out.

Instantly biting your lips, you felt a bit shy for making sounds already, so easily. The thought that you were inexperienced kept crossing your mind, and you didn’t want to act like it even though both of you knew the truth.

“Gonna hide the best part from me?” Mason pouted as soon as you bit your lips, slowly thrusting into you again and smiling when you rolled your eyes. “I wanna hear you. Make sure you’re feeling good”

“I am” you assured him.

“Then show me” Mason whispered, biting your jaw lovingly. “I don’t wanna be the only one screaming”

“Screaming?” you raised an eyebrow, trying to hold another moan when Mason moved again, slowly torturing you.

“You have no idea how you feel wrapped around me. It makes me wanna scream” he admitted, and his praise filled you with pride. “You feel like heaven” he looked you in the eyes, whispering against your lips. “I’m gonna prove it to you”

—

Since that day you’ve been needy for him 24/7. Just a glance at his arms or his tummy, a stare at his tongue darting out of his mouth, the groans he makes when training at home. Everything makes you wet.

He wasn't complaining, obviously. It was like a frenesi, and despite you still having your old activities like cooking together and watching movies curled up, the night would always end with him touching you.

Some nights he would make you cum on his fingers and not ask for anything in return, most of nights he would buried himself into you and make you both feel good, but on a few others… he would teach you different things.

Mason taught you how to touch him, and making him cum only with your hands made you feel so powerful. He also showed you how his mouth feels against you, how good he is with his tongue.

He was slowly helping you to build your confidence and discover what things you liked most, which positions you prefer. You felt so grateful for having someone that cared about you first, that waited for you and now was patient to let you learn step by step.

But as much as he was caring, Mason was cheeky.

That’s why it didn’t surprise you when after a dinner night together, cooking your favourite lasagna and watching Friends, he left to his bedroom and came back with a box.

“What’s that?” you frowned, slightly confused, but he only shrugged.

“A gift”

“Babe” you narrowed your eyes. “It’s not my birthday, it’s not Valentine’s Day, it’s not our anniversary”

Mason rolled his eyes, sitting in front of you and giving you the box.

“I like to buy you things. And this one is really good” he defended himself.

You carefully opened the box, quickly glancing at the inside.

“Mason! What’s that for?” you tried to hold your giggles, feeling your cheeks burning at the sight of a sex you. You couldn’t even get mad at him, seeing that he took the time to choose your favourite colour.

“For when I’m away” he smirked. “It won’t be as good as me but it’ll still be good”

“Babe” you laughed, your heart tightening. “I don’t even know how to use it”

“It’s easy to learn” he leaned down and pecked your lips. “I just thought that can use it alone and discover your body. But we can use it together as well”

You nodded, closing the box and putting it aside.

“Thank you. The colour is pretty” you smiled, but your cheeks were still warm, and Mason giggled before kissing them.

“Such a shy girl. You weren’t that shy screaming my name last night-”

“Mason!” you slapped his arm, rolling your eyes at his giggles.

Since he had training the day after, the pair of you went to bed early so he could rest, trying your best to just sleep. It wasn’t easy since your boyfriend is as needy as you, and soon he was stretching you in the best way possible, murmuring praises in your ear.

The pair of you slept right after, cuddling like you love to do.

A few days later, when you were back at home and feeling needy for him, you remembered what Mason got you for moments like these.

Going to your room and taking the box out of your closet, you stared at him whilst it stared back at you back.

Where’d you start? Your cheeks were warm and red just at the sight of it, and you thought of calling Mason for help before remembering he told you he’d go out with some boys from the England team.

You weren’t sure of what time he’d be coming back so you decided to text and see if it was home already.

You knew straight away that he was still at their meeting, but as soon as you dismissed him your phone started to ring, his contact’s name showing on the screen. You accepted the call and took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage.

“What’s wrong princess” his voice was sweet and your entire body got warm with how caring he is with you.

“Are you home?” you bit your lower lip, not wanting to put him in an embarrassing position.

“I asked what’s wrong” was his simple answer.

You took another deep breath. “I just… it’s so silly”

“And it’s just me. Nothing you’d say can be silly for me”

“Fine- I wanna use what you gave me, but I feel so shy every time I look at it. It’s just easier when you're touching me”

“Oh- ok” Mason gasped, looking around. You heard a few conversations around him and your cheeks got warmer.

“Sorry- I’ll just hang up and we can talk later, yeah? You’re not even at home” you murmured, but before you could hit the button he answered you.

“Are you undressed already?” he cut you, the way his voice got hoarse making you shiver. “I bet you’re not so take your shorts and panties off f’me, yeah? You can keep the shirt if it makes it easier”

“Mase…”

“Just do as I ask, baby” he told you. When you hummed to let him know you had obeyed him, he continued. “Now get under the sheets and spread your legs open f’me, love”

“Okay” you murmured, your face so hot you could swear you had a fever.

“Turn the toy on” he told you, and you did as he asked. “But don’t go directly for it. You can brush it against your thighs, like I do when I’m about to eat you out. Tease yourself, baby”

You followed his instructions, letting him know every step of yours. After a while of hearing you’re breath getting heavier, Mason kept guiding you.

“You can brush it over your pussy now, baby. It’s a different sensation so go slow, enjoy it, rub gentle circles on your lips”

He knew exactly when you obeyed by the profane sound you made, your moan giving him goosebumps.

“Mase-” you gasped, heating his entire body. Mason’s grin didn’t go unnoticed by his mates, but none of them approached him since he excused himself to call you.

“Be gentle, baby. Like my tongue would be” you could hear in his voice how much he was enjoying this himself. “How are you feeling?”

“It’s funny I guess, makes everything vibrates at the same time”

“Circle your clit now” he asked you, and hus own breath started to get heavier.

“Wow” you gasped surprisedly, making him chuckle.

“It feels good, doesn’t?”

“Mase” you whined, your head falling against the pillow.

“Fuck” Mason cursed, looking around to be sure he was still safe. “That’s it, baby. Just close your eyes and pretend I’m there”

The way you cried out made his head spin.

“I don’t want to pretend” you whispered, “I need you”

“I need you too, princess”

“I need you now” you whined, the pleasure mixed up with the frustration of not having him there.

“Do you?” he thought for a second, his feet walking before he actually made the decision. “If you keep being a good girl then you might have me. Turn it to level two, please”

“Mason-”

“Do it” he demanded, and you instantly moaned when you obeyed. Mason pulled his t-shirt down trying to cover his hard member when he got closer to his friends again. “I’ll answer you back in a second princess. Keep going”

“Mate” you could hear Foden in the background. “Can you take me to my hotel? I came with Jack but he’s nowhere to be found”

“No way” Mason giggled, and you could picture him already walking to the exit, not even saying goodbye to his friends.

“C’mon Mase, it’s two minutes away from here”

“Look Phil, I love you” Mason squeezed his shoulder. “But I love my girl more and she needs me really badly right now”

“You’re disgusting” Phil rolled his eyes, but chuckled.

Mason didn’t gave him time to continue, turning his back and leaving, impatiently waiting for them to bring his car.

“Are you still with me, princess?” he murmured, your little pants slowly making him go wild.

“Ye-ah. I’m back at teasing myself like you told me to do. My thighs and- my nipples” you whispered, making Mason groan proudly.

“Such a fucking good girl” he sighed. “So good for me, yeah? You’re so fucking good for me. Bring it to your clit again”

When his car parked in front of him, Mason thanked the valet parking and quickly got in, putting you on speaker and instantly starting to drive the fastest he could.

Mason groaned when you just moaned in response, trying to focus on the road. He silently thanked the universe that you decided to try the toy tonight, when he was at a meeting only ten minutes from your place.

He could do it in five.

“Slide it to your core, baby. Like I’d do with my fingers, can you do that f’me? Slowly penetrate yourself”

“You said about your kisses, your tongue and your fingers as a comparison” you giggled. “What about your dick?”

“Let’s be honest” Mason chuckled. “No toy can stretch you like my cock. That’s why I’m coming to give it to you. Now do as I asked, yeah?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see it and pressed the toy against your core, giving Mason a loud moan whilst gently inserting it.

“Jesus, you’ll make me cum” he groaned, gripping the wheel with both hands. “Fuck yourself with it, princess. Find the pace, do it slowly”

“The way it vibrates-” you cried out, feeling overstimulated. “I’m- oh my God”

A shiver went down Mason’s spine when you finally reached your high, the loud and high pitch moan sounding inside his car, the way you whined his name after almost making him cum on the spot.

“Don’t turn it off, baby. Guide yourself through your orgasm like I’d do” he instructed you whilst turning the engine off and jumping out of his car, practically running to your front door.

He was glad you were now on the step of having each other's key — he would hate to make you leave your bed to open the door for him.

When Mason got to your bedroom door, he made no sound. Instead, he turned the call off and watched you for a few minutes.

The messy hair, the soft moans, the way your cheeks and forehead were red. The way you were moving gently beneath the sheets.

“Mase?” you murmured, still feeling a bit dizzy from your orgasm.

“I’m here, princess”

“I need you” you cried out, and Mason were quick to enter the room. He was done watching.

Slowly walking towards your bed, he gave you a cheeky smile.

“Fuck, you’re so hot. So pretty, tucked in bed and playing with yourself” Mason murmured, smirking at your red cheeks. Once he got at the edge of the bed, your boyfriend took off his t-shirt, letting you admire his tummy muscles before taking out his trousers and crawling to you only in his boxers. “My innocent baby. Have I ruined you?”

“I think so” you shrugged, smiling when his nose brushed against yours.

“I can’t wait to ruin you more” he whispered, nose now brushing against your cheeks before you get the kiss you’ve been wanting for days. “Did you have fun? Did you cum?”

“Yeah” you nodded, pecking his lips.

“Good. This way you’ll get to know what you like”

“I like how you do it” you told him shyly.

“I can tell” Mason giggled, getting himself beneath the sheets. “But there’s more to know about it”

“Will you teach me, right?”

“Of course I will, bubba. Now c’mere” he tapped his chest, and you were quick to obey, happiness spreading across your body just from being tangled with him.

With half your body on top of him, you shared a slow kiss, savouring each other.

“Babe” you whined when his other hand cupped your chest underneath the shirt you were wearing, gently pinching your nipples.

“I’m proud of you, yeah? Look how far you’ve gone since we met. I want you to know that there’s nothing wrong with liking sex and enjoying yourself” he told you, squeezing you against him.

“Thank you” you kissed his cheek. “For being so patient with me, even though you’re not exactly a patient guy”

“Oh” Mason giggled. “I’m a patient guy with you”

“I love you” you stared at him, rubbing gentle circles on his bare chest and smiling when he stared at you back.

“I love you more” he kissed your forehead, sighing when your hand started to travel down.

Resting your head on his shoulder, you touched Mason under his boxer, delicately the way he taught you, just to spread the precum over his length. Brushing your thumb over his tip, you smiled when he let out a shaky moan.

“Feels good?” you asked him, and the genuine tone of your voice made him groan.

“Feels better every time” he murmured, capturing your lips on his.

You didn’t even raise your body nor get on your knees. You were both so hazy that you were only capable of pulling down his underwear, waiting for him to take it off with his legs, and bringing the other half of your body on top of Mason’s and let him guide himself into you lazily, your face on his neck and your chest pressed against his.

Mason’s low moan when he penetrated you made your whole body shiver and you kissed his collarbone, staying still for a while and getting used to your boyfriend’s length.

“Gonna turn us around, yeah?” he whispered after a few minutes, squeezing your waist when you nodded.

With your back now against the bed, Mason hovered over you, kissing every part of you he could reach whilst giving you more minutes to adjust. Your jaw, your shoulders, your clavicle.

You know Mason likes intense sex, even rough sometimes, especially when he’s angry. You’ve talked about it, and you told him you wanna try it in the future, and despite him nodding and agreeing, he likes to be soft with you. To have slow and intimate sex.

And you love how he’s able to be gentle and yet firm with his hips, showing you how much he enjoys the moment by wanting it to last forever.

Your boyfriend slowly thrusted into you, his movement scratching every inch of your brain, the feeling of being filled by him making your head go dizzy. With his elbow next to your face whilst his hand ran through your hair, you turned your head to the side and gently bit his biceps.

“Are you good, princess?” he checked, your actions turning him even more.

“Faster” was the only thing you were able to say, scratching the back of his neck.

“Do you want me to go faster?” he repeated, chuckling when you nodded. “Where’s my shy baby?”

“Mase” you pouted, and he kissed your lips before increasing the pace.

You grabbed every part of his body you could reach, sometimes even scratching his shoulders and back from how hard you were gripping on him.

When you came, squeezing him the way you’ve learned it makes him cum with you, Mason had no choice then to follow you, guiding you both through your highs.

After a minute or two, still panting and groaning, he gently pulled his member out of you, admiring his work.

“Can I?” he murmured with pleading eyes, his lips instantly turning into a pout and you knew exactly what he wanted.

“Yeah, baby” you nodded, smiling when his eyes twinkled.

Gently, Mason used two fingers to insert his cum inside you again, smiling when he got to watch it dripping out of you one more time.

“What do you like so much about it?” you giggled, running your fingers through his hair.

“It’s me, all over you. It means you’re mine” he leaned down and pecked your lips. “And the simply thought that I own you makes me hard again”

“I think you should show me just how much you own me” you smirked at him, feeling giddy when his eyes widened playfully.

“Not so innocent, are you?”

“At least not when you’re naked over me” you shrugged, making him laugh before laying down and bringing you closer.

“So I definitely ruined you”

“I’ll always be your innocent girl, tho” you smiled at him, head finding a home on his neck right after.

“My innocent girl, just a little bit dirtier” he snuggled closer to you, his fingers gently brushing against your lower back.

[lemoncherrypop]

To Build a Home

seventeen x harry potter au

deatheater!seungcheol x gryffindorprincess!reader summary: The war has finally come and your entire world falls into ruin. After a surprise attack from the Death Eaters, you barely escape with your life and find refuge in a faraway safe house. Everything would have been fine, all things considered, except for the fact that you had fallen right into the snake’s pit. notes: hello :'))) i am back from the dead. i can not apologize enough for the three year hiatus. i went through some family stuff, some mental breakdowns, and also just life in general made me not want to write anymore. but all the messages and comments I've gotten throughout the years have been so heart warming and touching. your words of support have genuinely made me want to get back into this again, so thank you thank you thank you. all your likes, comments and shares really kept me going, sometimes I felt like I was writing into the void, but knowing that others read and enjoyed my story was a very validating and heartwarming feeling. again, I am SOOO sorry for the extremely late update, but if you are still around, I hope you will enjoy this next chapter! i love you all <3 P.S if you prefer AO3 viewing, it will be linked in my Series Masterlist :) word count: 4.3k

Series Masterlist

One l Two l Three l Four l Five l coming soon...

Chapter Five

//

The bed is warm when you wake up, but you can not move.

“If you try to get up, I will incarcerous your ass.”

The air smells bitter and burnt, and it makes you want to gag at how strong it weighs in the air. Blinking past the candlelights, you find Jean sitting in a chair next to your bed.

Groaning, you try and curl your fingers, but you find yourself unable to. Not even needing to look down, you could feel the thick bandages wrapped around your whole chest and the entire length of your left arm.

“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t,” you grumble, voice feeling raw and dry in your throat. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

“What did I do to you?” 

“I can’t fucking move!”

“I bloody well put you back together in one piece!” Jean snapped and you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen so much anger in your friend’s eyes. “You nearly got yourself killed, and you’re complaining about a couple of bandages?!”

“A couple is enough to render me completely useless?!”

“You’re not useless.” Jean rolls her eyes. “You’re just forced into recuperation.”

“Well, it’d be fucking nice if I could at least scratch my nose.” You scrunch your nose unpleasantly.

“Your right arm still works, you know.”

“Oh.” You blink. “Right.”

Jean sighs deeply and goes back to focusing on something on your night table. Feeling awkward, you stretch out your right arm the best you can and reach up to scratch the itch on the bridge of your nose.

“What’s that?” You point at the stack of small withered leather pouches and tiny vials of potions.

She lets out a grunt of frustration. “It’s your medicine. You lost so much blood, I thought you turned into a bloody ghost.”

“Well, blame that on—”

“It’s both of your faults,” Jean cuts you off with a sharp glare. “Don’t go blaming Seungcheol when you put him in an equally bad position.”

You can’t help but smirk at the news. “He strapped down onto his bed just like me?”

Glass bottles click and clatter as Jean slams down your medicine. “Wake up! This was all meant for training, not to cut each other’s throats and bleed each other dry.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn away to avoid her glare. “Did you give him the same lecture?”

“I’m serious, can’t you just listen to me?” 

“It’d be nice to not, but I don’t think I have a choice.”

She scoffs. “We’re not at school anymore. There’s no more petty house rivalry, no house points to fight over, or exams to stress over. We’re on the same side of the war, we can’t keep fighting with the boys.”

“Don’t be a fool.” You snap back at her with furrowed brows. “You want me to trust these boys? Thought you were supposed to be the smart one—”

A click— the door opens and Wonwoo walks in as if he were coming in like routine.

“Ah,” he says in quiet surprise. “You’re up?”

A brow quirks. “What are you doing in my room?”

Jean clicks her tongue and goes back to refilling your medication.

He holds up an amber glass bottle. “To heal you back into a functioning human.”

You place your good arm under the back of your head and prop yourself up a little to get a better view of your two housemates.

“Jean’s already got my medicine here.” You nod over to the glass vials on your night table.

“Yes, but this one—” Wonwoo holds it closer to your face, the clear glass has no label but contains a sticky, thick liquid. “—is for those cuts that Seungcheol gave you.”

“Of course,” you groan, rolling your eyes. “Even the cuts he gave me aren’t ordinary. I need a special potion just for that?”

Wonwoo takes a seat at the end of your bed. “You lost a lot of blood.”

“A lot.” Jean glowers.

“Stop worrying,” you chide. “I feel fine!” You cough, embarrassingly, your throat still raw and dry.

“Fine my fucking arse,” Jean curses, and you know she’s truly mad because when was the last time your friend has ever cursed? “Fine isn’t being completely incapacitated for days. I had no idea when you would even wake up.”

“Wait a sec—” Your forehead wrinkles as your face contorts into confusion. “How long have I been out?”

“Only three days,” Wonwoo sighs, and uncorks the bottle in his hand. “He’s just as immobile as you, thought you’d be interested to know.”

“That is good to know.” You can’t help the grin spreading on your face. Jean’s scowl only deepens.

A cup is conjured out of thin air, and Wonwoo pours some of the amber liquid into it. “This is going to be hard to swallow, but drink the whole thing, okay?” He hands you the cup.

It looks even darker in the cup and moves like molasses. “And what is this supposed to help with? All the blood that I lost?”

“It’s to make sure your wounds heal completely,” Jeans explains. “Unfortunately… you won’t be able to get rid of the scars, but at least they’ll be completely closed.”

“That spell he used on you…” Wonwoo says quietly, his face looking serious as he tries to word it properly in his head before saying it out loud. “It’s— it’s not a spell to take lightly. Obviously, it would have been best to use the counterspell right after you got hit, but you continued fighting—”

“Absolute blockheads, the both of you!”

“— and the lacerations only went deeper and deeper as they spread. It’ll take a few days of rest before you’re fully healed, but just hold your nose when you take the potion because it—”   

“Tastes like fucking shit!” You gag.

“— tastes pretty awful…”

//

Mandatory bed rest for the rest of the week.

Those were the orders from apparently everyone else in the house. Sneaking out was not an option because there was a spell that made the entire house ring when you tried to sneak out. It was equally both embarrassing and frustrating, seeing as how you couldn’t even take a piss without having Jean come over to help you over to the bathroom.

The only good thing about being imprisoned inside your own room was Wonwoo’s cup of tea. 

He brought you a cup of tea every morning. Earl grey. Always piping hot, and with just enough cream and sugar to make anyone else’s tongue curl from the sweetness.

It was the perfect cup of tea.

The damn snake was slowly creeping his way up your ladder that goes from enemies to acquaintances to just barely being friends. He was still low on the ladder though, just marginally above the other snakes.

But the cup of tea did nothing to make you feel any better. Any less useless.

The wounds have healed completely when you finished up the rest of the amber liquid, and the bandages were finally all released with permission from Wonwoo and Jean, but no one allowed you back into another round of dueling. Not yet at least. They all said it's because you needed more time to get better, but you knew it was because they all thought you weren’t mentally stable enough to go back.

“You almost died!” You remember wincing in pain when Jean readjusted your bandages. 

No matter how many times you insisted that you were feeling better and thinking more clearly, she stayed firm in her decision. 

“Not. Yet.”

You can only hope that the same was happening to Seungcheol.

//

Minghao sips on his glass and the candlelight illuminates the grimace on his face. “This is not what I meant when I said they wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off each other.”

“I was hoping they’d just fuck each other’s brains out,” Mingyu shrugs. “But I guess this is another way of them taking their anger out on each other.”

“How could you joke like that when they both nearly died?” Trinh scowls, smacking the back of his head for the comment.

“Hey!” Mingyu rubs his head with a groan. “You think I wanted that to happen? I nearly shit myself when I saw the amount of blood in here!” He shudders dramatically. “But they’re both healed now, yeah?”

“Doesn’t make the situation any better.” Trinh tiredly rubs her eyes. “We can never pair them up again for training. I refuse to clean up that much blood again.”

“The reality is,” Minghao sighs, reaching over to pet her hair. “They fucking hate each other. I’m sure they’ll find another excuse to get into another bloody fight.”

“As much as I hated the fight as well, I can’t say that I’m not surprised.” Mingyu sighs. “This was a fight years in the making. We put those two together without any supervision of the professors, and what did we expect? Sunshine and chocolate frogs?”

“Their fighting in Hogwarts was child’s play compared to this,” Trinh groans, looking more tired by the second.

She shifts in her chair just enough for her to lean her head on Minghao’s shoulder, and he suddenly laughs. “Remember that time he spiked her ale with some babbling beverage right before potions class?”

A light chuckle comes from Mingyu. “Or that time she used locomotor mortis right before he leaned in for his first kiss with that Gryffindor girl and he fell right into her breasts?”

Minghao throws his head back with a loud snort. “Then there was that brilliant prank where he charmed her quill to write everything backwards during our O.W.L.S!”

“See? I’m telling you, they just need to fuck.” Mingyu lays his finger on the table to make his point. “They’ve already beat each other bloody.”

Minghao’s laughter slowly fades until his smile is no more, and reaches for his glass again. “Yeah, but he’s not the same boy as before.” He takes a final swig and downs the whole drink. “He’s changed.”

“We’ve all changed.”

Their heads all snap up to see Wonwoo standing at the end of their table. Minghao grimaces, and all traces of laughter have disappeared from his face. Looking forlornly into his half-empty glass, Mingyu stays silent as well.

“Done drinking for tonight?” He asks the trio, looking just as solemn as his crew of snakes.

Trinh throws her head back to finish hers and slams it back on the table. “Now I am.” 

Mingyu holds up an empty glass for Wonwoo in offerance. “How are they doing? Still, being stubborn?

Wonwoo declines with a shake of his head and sits down to join them. “I don’t know what I expected from either of them,” he sighs. “She’s still fighting tooth and nail to get out of the room, and Seungcheol’s… well, you know how he gets when he’s moody.”

“Got the temper of a five-year-old.” Trinh shakes her head.

“But thankfully the medications are working well,” Wonwoo continues. “Wounds are pretty much all healed. I still think they need more time to mentally recover from their fight.”

“I’ve got high hopes for the Princess, but Seungcheol? Like that stubborn dickhead has any space in his thick skull to even comprehend how to do that.”

“Mingyu.” Wonwoo places a firm grip on his shoulder. “We’ve got to do something. He can’t keep going on like this, he’s only going to get worse.”

“Well, what do you suggest then?” Mingyu snaps. “Like he’ll listen to any of us. 

Minghao’s expression is grim. “I’m afraid the only way he’ll get any better is if he is dead, my friend.”

//

Days and weeks flew by in the cottage and the house was slowly coming into action once again. Mingyu and Jean were still flirting around in every room, Trinh could be found giggling away with Minghao whilst pretending to not care about anyone else. 

And yet, you haven’t exchanged a single word with Seungcheol. It was harder than you expected, pretending like someone doesn’t exist under the same roof as you, but you were determined to see past him like a ghost. Unsurprisingly, he had shown you the same courtesy. Seungcheol even ate his meals alone in his room or in the room down in the basement.

Walking around the house post near-death-fight was an even bigger pain than before. There was an unspoken mutual agreement between the two of you, and that was to be completely oblivious to each other’s existence. Although the entire household was pushing for the both of you to make amends, it was clear that they have all underestimated both your stubbornness. You bet you could go months, maybe even years, pretending like Seungcheol didn’t exist within the same home as you.

While the lack of contact with the miserable imp was nice, the tension still weighed heavy in the air, and you knew it was beginning to suffocate the others as well. But as much as you felt bad for your housemates, they were the ones who forced you into this whole situation in the first place.

And so, he continued to act as if you were nothing but an echo in the hallways. He didn’t even sneer or frown, or show any physical signs of threats or discomfort. He simply acted as if you didn’t exist.

And you were fine with that.

Until, well, everyone else wasn’t.

//

The night hung heavy, and the moon cast a haunting glow on the house as you readied for sleep. You were seconds away from slipping under your covers when a timid knock echoed from your door. Wearily, you trudged over to answer, revealing a Wonwoo poised to knock again.

“Wonwoo?”

“Hi.”

“Can I help you?”

Wonwoo’s arms fall to his sides, his body rigid and expression wavering with hesitance. It was clear from his eyes that he was unsure of his presence at your door, especially at this late hour.

The past few weeks have admittedly been easier with the help of Wonwoo’s presence. He took care of you in little ways that you did not expect. He brought medicine with a cup of hot tea on the side for you every day. He would accompany you in silent book readings in the common room, discreetly sitting across from you in your favorite armchair to keep you company. And whenever you felt yourself about to be overcome with anxiety, somehow, almost miraculously, Wonwoo would appear to chase that sinking feeling of fear in your chest away.

Most times, he would ask if you’d like to accompany him in some tasks, like baking muffins for breakfast the next day, or flying on the broomsticks to help clean up the roof, or even picking flowers outside to make bouquets around the cottage.

Other times, he would make you a cup of tea and simply just sit by your side. He would make small talk if you felt like talking, but if you didn’t, he would just sit in silence with you. Sometimes, you would sit in silence for so long that your tea would grow cold, but by the time you noticed, Wonwoo had already gotten up to make you a fresh cup of tea to replace the cold one in your hands.

He had such a keen sense of your anxieties, you wondered if it was because he had the same fears as you.

A heavy sigh escapes you, heart feeling pity for the boy who has diligently stayed by your side everyday since the duel. “What is it?” Your voice is soft, speaking low to not be heard by others. “I was just about to go to sleep.”

“Oh— I’ll come back another night then—”

“Nonsense. Come inside.”

“I… I don’t want to take up too much of your time…”

“You spent the past three weeks putting me back together. You are allowed some of my time.”

He still seems hesitant. A jitteriness that was now making you nervous.

“What is it?” You ask in a tense whisper. “Did you get any news? Has someone else—”

“No! No, not at all,” He waves his hands quickly, immediately banishing the thought of losing yet another classmate. “I just— well, I’m not sure if this may come as a shock to you, but you must know that your fight with Seungcheol is making everyone else in the house deeply uncomfortable—”

You let out a deep sigh of relief.  “Is this what you came in the middle of the night for?” Turning your back on him, you wave your hand back, motioning for him to leave your room. “Go to bed, Wonwoo.”

He grabs your left hand, making you halt in your tracks. Turning to face him, you saw the strain etched into his expression. His other hand pauses for a second before reaching over to pull up your sleeve. “Look at what's happened to you.”

Your hand whips out of his and you bring the sleeve down in a defensive rage. “What are you here for, Wonwoo?” You demand this time.

He gathers in a shaky breath as if he were afraid to speak another word out loud. “Have you ever heard of that spell?” His voice drops to a whisper, making sure that you are the only one that can hear him. “That was dark magic, nothing like what we were ever taught in school. Who do you think taught him that spell?”

“You think I care where you learned all your demented spells from?”

“Well you should! I know there’s been a difficult history between our houses, but we’re all here together now. We’re all classmates here, why can’t you just—”

“Just what? Want me to pretend like everythings okay? Like the outside world isn’t burning up all around us? Want me to forget what he’s done to me?”

“I’m not asking for you to forgive him or any of us, but I am asking you to just… accept the situation that we’re all in. Whether you like it or not, we are on the same side now.”

“Acceptance doesn’t come that easily, it’s something to be earned.”

His face falls.  “Haven’t I?” Wonwoo’s eyes turn soft, yearning and desperate. “I was hoping that— that at least I am…”

Your heart clenches with guilt. “No… you’re right.” Shaking your head, you reach over to grab his hands in yours. “You’ve— you’ve been a great friend to me the past few weeks, and I can’t ever deny that, it wouldn’t be fair to you.”

His shoulders relax, and he gently returns your grasp. Giving him a faint smile, you guide him into your room as he quietly closes the door behind him. Taking a seat together on your bed, facing each other, a sense of solemnity settles between you.

“This situation in the house…” Wonwoo’s voice is still cautious. “I felt like I needed to come to you, and tell you… if you and Seungcheol continue on this way, it will break us all apart.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“People are starting to walk on eggshells around here, and it’s because of you two.”

“Did you give him the same talk, or are you just lecturing me?” You snap, unable to hold down your annoyance at how everyone’s been treating you since the duel. That loathsome fuck was the one who almost killed you, and yet everyone’s coming to you to try and make amends?

“Oh, trust me,” Wonwoo almost chuckles. “He’s getting lectured by both Mingyu and Hao. You got the lucky end of the stick.”

You bit back a smile at that.

“But you know it’s true. We have to split up with dueling practice, we don’t gather anymore to hear Jun’s nightly news, and we just eat our meals separately now. There needs to be some unity between us in order for us to work together.”

A bitter laugh escapes you. “Since when did you become so pragmatic?”

“I’ve always been,” he responds in exasperation. “I might be friends with those idiots, but don’t lump me in with their antics.”

“You’ve revealed your true self to me six years too late,” You say wryly. 

Wonwoo reaches over to grasp your hands again. “I know, and that’s exactly why I refuse to let this chance slip away.” His look is so serious, your smile drops. “Besides, haven’t you ever noticed? I was always the one to pull the boys out of the fights.”

You pause, genuinely considering his words. “I can’t say I have.”

Wonwoo scoffs lightly. “Course not. Your attention was always elsewhere.”

“Like where?” You raise a brow.

“You know where,” he raises a brow back at you. “But now your attention is needed here. I came here because I need you to understand.”

“Understand what, Wonwoo.” Frustration starts to build. “That we’re all in this together now? That we aren’t enemies anymore because we’re fighting on the same side? I get it,” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm. “I still hate the bloody ass, but we’re stuck in this damned house for the same reason.”

The corner of his lips quirk up. “Glad to see that you’re not in denial anymore, but it’s important you know why we ran away in the first place.”

“Because your malevolent Dark Lord is out there murdering people left and right?”

“You’re not wrong,” he says, his eyes darkening. “Believe me when I say that even his most devoted followers feared him. It might have seemed like we were just taking Dark Magic lessons from the Death Eaters, but we were prisoners there. We— we were taught all these different ways to torture, sometimes even forced—”

Your face contorts in confusion, a sick feeling starting to settle in your stomach. “Have you ever…”

“Never.” He shuts you down before you could finish your question. “But… we came close a few times.”

Your hands draw away from his as a chill runs down your spine. Wonwoo looks ashamed, his hands clenched into fists.

“They trained us to be like them. They wanted us to just be another soldier. They taught us how to fight, how to torture, how to kill. They tried to poison our minds.”

A familiar panic starts to fill in his eyes, and guilt washes over you. The fear you’ve developed since running away from the Death Eaters was nothing in comparison to what he went through. How could anyone come out of that normal?

“They made us watch every night. We watched every single muggle, muggle-born or “traitor” be tortured until death. The Death Eaters were creative for sure, I watched some of their bodies be twisted in ways they shouldn’t and others lose their sanity. And on nights where the Eaters had a bit too much to drink, they would make us test the curses out on each other.”

A silence falls on your face, horror-stricken.

“One night… I saw him, Seokmin’s father. I recognized him from the platform before boarding the train. Seokmin looked just like him, the same eyes and smile… I had no idea he was a Muggle. I tried to help him escape.”

Your hands finds his again, gripping his fingers, apologetic for pulling away in the first place. The panic slowly rising in Wonwoo’s eyes.

“I had no idea he was a muggle,” he repeats, the pained look in his eyes begging you to believe him. “I thought we were almost out, but I got caught. Cicero— he was the one who caught me.”

His fingers felt cold in your hands.

“That was the last time I saw his father,” he murmurs. “And Cicero took me away.”

He pulls one hand up to his buttons on his shirt, a slight tremble as he starts to undo them. “Right here,” he guides one of your hands up to the center of his chest. “Is where I have the same scars as you.”

Your heart shatters at the revelation.

He laughs bitterly as you trail your fingers down his disfigured skin. “We all have them. Mingyu has them on his chest as well. Minghao is growing his hair longer to hide the ones on his back, and Seungcheol…” he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I never knew… I never imagined… the things you’ve been through,” your words fracture, not knowing what to say.

He’s back to smiling, a maddening reassurance you know he’s trying to give you despite the panic still in his eyes.

“Jean and I may have mended you back together, but Seungcheol cast the counterspell. He’s the one that saved you.”

“Seungcheol? But he’s the one who—”

“I know,” he nods. “He’s the one who used it on you in the first place, but when you were bleeding out in the common room, shirt torn apart and lifeless, it woke something back up in him.”

You shook your head, not saying anything. You didn’t want to believe him, but there was a quiet stirring in your head.

“He was the Dark Lord’s favorite. He trained the most out of all of us, the Dark Lord wanted to use him for his plans, and after months and months of enduring his training… he just couldn’t take it anymore.”

Tears start welling up in his eyes, his voice a mere whisper. “Something inside him… just snapped.” A tear falls from his face. “He didn’t want to kill the headmaster, but he had no choice. He had to. My closest friend is broken now because of it, and— and I don’t know how to fix him.”

Your chest crumples at the sight before you.

“He’s made the Unbreakable Vow.” Wonwoo reveals. “I needed you to understand. He just wanted to live.”

[fawnchives]

https://www.tumblr.com/fawnchives/749861186535931904/httpswwwtumblrcomfawnchives74985853302733209?source=share

matt would start the conversation like "you have such a great eye and you did so well on camera. hopefully the fans don't start any drama, but if they do...well, just know me and my brothers appreciate you"

and you're like "aww thank you so much matthew...and hey, even bad attention is still attention. maybe someone else will hire me if they trust you guys"

he laughs a bit and says "i hope so too. and you know you can call me matt. was hoping you'd feel comfortable enough to not be as formal"

you look at him and say "oh trust me matt, you've made me feel quite welcome" as you stretch and stand up. before now, matt didn't notice that you were wearing pantyhose under your skirt the entire time (it had been unusually cold in LA that week). but now he couldn't help but stare at your legs as you grabbed a snack from the table

(omg not me basically writing a fic, lemme stop)

OH MY GOSH HELLO ?? 👀 not him eyeing our legs oh my gosh he’s such a dork (i need him in ways i can’t explain)

[hemmingshouse]

a nice pair / matt sturniolo

(let me know if you want a part 2 ;)

summary: matt has a thing for you and makes that very clear when you’re smoking together.

warnings: making out, swearing, mentions of sex, smoking, fingering etc etc etc.

“pass me that lighter again?”

your words slowly shook him from the haze he was in as he breathed out the smoke he inhaled seconds ago. he looked at you for a second, adoring the way your eyes were a bit droopy because of the impact of the joint you two were currently sharing.

matt opened his eyes from where he was slumped upon the couch, head resting against the back of the comfortable leather. he reached for the black lighter that was next to him before he chucked it your way, the small object hitting you straight in the boob. “ow!” you laughed, “you got aim, brotha.”

he chuckled and rolled his eyes at the nickname, watching how you were lighting up the joint from where it slowly burned out before. with the dimmed lighting of the living room and the scented candles you had lit before lighting up the joint to block out the strong smell, matt noticed how relaxed you looked. it was a nice contrast to a few hours ago, where you came barging through the triplets front door after a massive fight with one of your best friends.

she had multiple problems with her boyfriend and because you were such an empathic person, you continuously tried to help her out by giving advice whenever you could. it became a bit harder for you when she neglected you for the motherfucker of a boyfriend, all your energy and time disappearing into thin air when you realised she had never truly listened to you in the first place.

“god,” you breathed out the smoke, shaking your head, “can’t thank you enough for letting me lounge around your place, matt. truly means a lot.”

he sent you a smile, waving you off jokingly. “you have a spare key, sweetheart. can’t stop you from anything.”

“oh fuck off,” you laughed, sitting up straight after you took another hit of the blunt, “as if you’d ever stop me to begin with. you love having me around ‘cause you can lay your head on my tits when we sleep together.”

matt sucked in an audible breath after you jokingly called him out, shaking his head playfully. “can’t deny that, you’ve got a very nice fuckin’ pair.”

the way you always joked around with each other was something people from the outside would rarely ever get. strangers could never truly figure out of you two were a couple or just teasing friends, and sometimes it was a trick question for you and matt as well. even nick and chris would often make bets about who of you two would cave in first and admit to having feelings for one another even if the both of you stated you were just friends. the line between being friendly and being friendly was sometimes being crossed without you two even being fully aware of it.

you handed him the joint so he was able to put it out onto the ashtray sitting on the coffee table because you nearly finished it. matt let out a content sigh as he sat back onto the couch, much closer to you this time. the heat radiated off of him as matt rested his head against your collarbone, an arm draped across your stomach.

“don’t fall asleep on me,” you smiled softly, hand reaching up to tangle in his unruly mop of brown hair, “i don’t want your drool on my chest.”

he chuckled softly, your vanilla cotton scented perfume filling his nose as it brushed against your neck ever so lightly. matt adored the way you let him be his clingy self when he was a bit hazy, always very content the way he was able to cuddle you and sneak a hand underneath your (his) t-shirt.

this time was different though. you wore a strappy crop top that matched your wide leg joggers and matt swore his mouth dropped when he saw you barging through the door a few hours prior. the red material was a nice change from the black you usually wore as it brought out your eyes and he couldn’t stop lurking at your collar bones and neck as they were on full display for him to admire.

the way your soft and bare skin felt against his stubbly jaw made a knot form in the pit of his stomach, your familiar scent making his head dizzy as he thought about how you’d feel when you were fully naked and pulled flush against him as he was filling you up.

“matt?” you whispered, almost sure that he fell asleep until he slowly moved his hand from where it was still draped across your stomach to the waistband of your joggers. his action caused your cheeks to heat up slightly, breath caught in the back of your throat when the tip of his fingers softly dipped into waistband. “matt-”

“mhm?” he hummed, nose brushing against your jaw as he featherly kissed your neck. you weren’t sure if it was actually happening or if you were imagining it because of being hazy, but the way your body reacted gave away that you were more than okay with matt touching you this way. “what’s wrong?”

his muffled and low words in combination with the way his slender fingers untied the knot of your joggers made your head spin, hands unconsciously pulling matt’s hair slightly. “n-nothing,” you stammered quietly as his fingers brushed your underwear, “just getting a bit hot over here.”

he chuckled, “maybe we should take these off then,” he suggested as he tugged onto the drawstrings of your joggers once again, a hint of playfulness in his voice. you didn’t know what ignited in you, but you pulled matt’s head back from the crook of your neck to look him in the eye. 

you were sat in silence for a few seconds, gazes locked, before you felt like it went on for long enough and pulled him closer to you by the back of his neck. matt was quick to cup your jaw with one hand and smash his lips onto yours, not wanting to waste any more precious time as he deepened the kiss by letting his mouth work together with yours.

you never expected a shitty afternoon could turn into you kissing one of your best friends, his fingertips now digging into your waist as you casually seated yourself on his lap. a groan fell from his mouth as you accidentally rocked your hips against his after he softly bit your lip, his hands sneaking underneath your top.

the coldness of his rings in combination with how his calloused fingers were currently dragging across your skin made your head spin. your acrylic nails grazed his scalp as you ran your fingers through his hair, a soft wimper falling from your lips as matt’s hands dipped down to grab a good handfull of your ass.

“oh my god,” he breathed as you took off his hoodie and threw it onto the floor next to the couch, “if i knew this was gonna happen, i would’ve gotten you high sooner.”

his joke made you punch his shoulder lightly, matt’s hand grabbing your wrist before he placed a kiss onto the palm of your hand. “i’m joking baby,” he chuckled, “but fuck, if i don’t get you naked in a second-”

“matt,” you chuckled as he took ahold of the hem of your top, looking into your eyes, “the only thing that’s stopping you from getting me naked is you running your mouth.”

it caused him to laugh and shake his head, “i just wanna take my time,” he mumbled, fingers curling around the fabric of your top before he looked up at you to silently ask for consent. you didn’t say anything, just raised your arms with a small smile before he threw the strappy red fabric onto the floor. “look at you,” he said softly, running his fingers along your skin. “so fuckin’ beautiful, aren’t you?”

the way his husky voice was ringing in your ears whilst his big hands trailed along your entire torso made goosebumps arise on every inch of your body. the way he was so gentle but still took control was one of the hottest things you had ever seen, loving the way he spoke to you while he took the time to explore your body.

“matt,” you mumbled, his lips pressing feathery kisses along your boobs and neck as his hands remained warm on your waist. he hummed at you as he continued his actions, tongue slightly dragging up from your neck to your ear.

“yes baby?” he asked you, nickname falling from his tongue as if he called you that every single day. you didn’t want to waste any more time as you took his chin in one hand, pulling him in to kiss you once again.

matt loved how you knew what you wanted and adored that you showed him you wanted it now. he couldn’t help but smirk into the kiss as you deepened the kiss, letting out a whimper when one of matt’s hands slowly slid into your underwear as he kept his gaze on you. “god,” he hissed, nose bumping against yours, “never knew i could find you even hotter than i already did, but now that you’re soaked on my couch i fear i actually can.”

the way his cold fingers worked against your clit and eventually slid inside you made you moan, hands tangled in matt’s unruly hair. “mh- oh fuck.”

the way you responded to matt’s touch caused his ego to burst through the roof, your body almost like putty running through his fingers. he couldn’t stop looking at how your face scrunched up in pleasure as his fingers pumped in and out of you, a rosy blush spreading across your cheeks as your eyes locked with his.

“you’re doin’ so well for me, sweetheart,” he told you, continuing his pleasuring as his free hand squeezed your thigh, “can’t wait to fuck you even better.”

you let out a whine when matt’s fingers slipped out of you, “broooo,” you sighed, “why the fuck did you stop?” you asked him with a whiny chuckle, eyes darting up at him as he unbuckled his belt and took off his jeans, leaning forward to kiss you once again in the meantime.

matt chuckled softly, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip, “need to hear those pretty little moans when my cock fills you up before you cum, pretty girl.”

[gamemakerm]

In honor of Mermay and the current trend of Animal/Therian HRT going around (inspired by @ayviedoesthings's Dragon HRT series, @welldrawnfish's Fish HRT, @kaylasartwork's Bat HRT, @nyxisart's Puppy HRT, @deadeyedfae's Human HRT, etc etc etc, love all your work), I wanted to share the short story I wrote last year about medically turning yourself into a mermaid. This got published in WriteHive's Reclaiming Joy anthology, and we're now just outside of the six-month publishing exclusivity, so I can make it publicly available.

This was really raw to write for me, and there are trigger warnings for transphobia(/whatever the equivalent would be for mermaids?), implications of violence and hate crimes. However all the stories in the anthology were ultimately about perseverance, courage and love. I hope you enjoy, and if you want to get this and eleven other uplifting stories I can't recommend the anthology enough (though this is the only one relevant to the tags as far as I know). And if you really, really like it, you can buy me a kofi!

Scales

When the scales began to break through skin, they said you were becoming a monster. Blue and green, seafoam to pearl. You weren’t certain at what point you started to believe them.

You began to wrap yourself in tighter layers, a futile effort not to draw attention to the rough patches. Elbows, knees, along your arms, mottled with foundation and concealer caked on like spackle. Toner to offset the iridescent shine so that a passing glance wouldn’t be drawn to it. Constant checks and double checks, bathroom visits far beyond the routine. 

Your careful camouflage is usually enough to deflect scrutiny, but occasionally a stranger catches on. Nobody has said anything to you yet, but you have noticed more glances on the train. The old woman’s frown of disapproval. The young man with something to prove to you, himself, the world. His jaw tightens as he calculates his ability to start something. You tuck your chin and pretend to be busy with your phone. In the dark screen you can see the skin flaking on your cheeks. The beginnings of another patch betray you.

As you touch up in the bathroom mirror you tell yourself you wanted this, that you were prepared for the hardships. 

You walk to the public library after your shift ends. You walk most places these days, telling yourself it’s a last hurrah. The fact is you sold your car to make a dent in the cost. You’ll sell everything eventually. You’re going to have to. 

The forums have a list of books everyone checks out when they choose this path. There aren’t many and most are fantasy. There’s a running joke: if anyone mentions Hans Christen Anderson, run. You spot The Little Mermaid on a small display. You don’t run. You check out your books. The librarian gives a knowing nod, but doesn’t remark. You silently thank her for the discretion.

You take a long shower, makeup swirling down the drain. You can’t help but scratch at the itching patches on your thighs, peeling skin tearing away for new growth. Shampoo and blood circle under your feet. Your fingernails are sharper than they were this morning. You exfoliate, letting the city, public transit, the glances of strangers be cleansed. Your reflection in the mirror, a colorful smattering of new scales dusting your cheeks, is tear-streaked, ethereal. Beautiful.

You knock the concealer into the trash bin.

Your mother left a voicemail. She avoids the elephant seal in the room, talking about her gardening, your cousin’s new baby. She lingers for a moment, then: You’re being selfish. She burns brightly as a beratement begins, emboldened. But without someone to riff with she loses her steam, trails off and repeats it. You’re being shellfish. She can’t help it; she laughs despite herself. There’s a minute where she doesn’t speak, but you can tell she’s waiting for the sob in the back of her throat to settle. She promises she’ll come to your party and the voicemail ends.

You still haven’t heard from your father. You don’t expect you will. You’ve made peace with that.

You do your weekly injection on the alternating leg, needle piercing deep in a gap between scales. The plunger delivers 200mg of concentrated hope directly into your bloodstream, salt water in salt water. You put a hello kitty bandaid over it and wait for the feeling of ice in your veins to settle, the tension to go out of your muscles. It doesn’t.

You pass an enraged man on the street, spit flying, a home-made sandwich board making his message clear: The Siren Is The Devil’s Agent. The back offers an equally cogent argument: Go Back To Atlantis, Fish Freaks. You would if you could, you think dryly. He notices you and seethes, but the current of the crowd carries you away before he can curse you out.

You drag your potted plants down to the front stoop and post a craigslist ad: free to a good home. They’re gone within the hour. You allow yourself the rare indulgence of posting a selfie, eyes closed, serene, to the reddit: Learning to love my scales <3! It’s still difficult to type on your phone with the new claws. The upvotes start to come in; everyone loves a guppie.

You catch up on the shows you haven’t gotten to yet. Where there was once only the metaphorical List, there is now an actual list. Despite your best efforts it’s becoming increasingly clear you’re not going to finish all of them. You knock a few off, restructure it based on length. It still looks too long.

You have dreams about choking on toxic waste, getting minced by a boat propeller. You keep a running count of the number of times you’ve dreamt of getting your head stuck in a six-pack of soda rings. You’re up to four. 

Every few days you do laps in the local pool. You’re getting faster, but you feel exposed. There are whispers around the locker room. 

Your cat knows something is happening, but doesn’t understand what that means for her. You hold her whenever and for as long as she’ll allow, give her as many pets and treats as she wants. Despite clearing out your apartment you’ve spoiled her. She licks the scales on your cheek as you cry over her. This seems to inspire something in her; she demands her tuna crunchies. Dutifully you give her the tuna crunchies. She can have as many tuna crunchies as she wants.

You doomscroll your twitter feed, making sure this isn’t the day you lose access to your meds because of some white man in a suit. A sister is assaulted by a violent extremist with a sense of humor: he shot her with a harpoon gun. Her crowdfunding campaign starts on the maidens reddit and goes viral.

You triple check to make sure your friend is still willing to take your cat when you go. They promise to spoil her and tell her stories of you every day. You continue to cry over it. They invite you out for sushi to talk about it, then backtrack to ask if that’s a microaggression. You go to sushi. You’re thankful for the distraction.

By the time your legs are more scale than skin and your fingers begin to develop webbing you’ve given up on pretense. The looks are now constant, but you get reflective sunglasses and a new patch for your jacket: Don’t like it? Drown, with a scaled hand reaching out of water and flipping the bird. You put the energy out into the world, and the world doesn’t fuck with you.

Children love you. Their parents do not. 

On the train a young girl quietly asks if she can feel your scales. You allow her to touch her little fingers to the aquamarine pattern running up your arm, giving her your most reassuring (but still fanged) smile. She’s fearless, enamored, reverent. Her mother pulls her daughter away and hastily apologizes for her, not looking you in the eye. But you know that girl believes in magic now.

A group of white supremacists go out on a boat loaded with assault rifles for “no reason” and get lost at sea. This is somehow your fault.

The day your fins begin to push their way out from your arms, your boss calls you into his office. You both know he can’t fire you in this and seven other states, but you both also know you won’t be staying much longer. He’s done his best to make you aware you’re making his life more difficult. You put in your two weeks before he can flounder for another excuse. He moors you with paperwork for the rest of the afternoon.

Someone leaves a rotting fish in your pool locker. You don’t go back, and you don’t file a report. You tell yourself the chlorine was bad for the gills freshly forming under your ribs anyway.

Your friends take you out clubbing. You lose yourself under the waves of music, submerged under strobe lights and the salty sweat of dancing bodies. You whisper sweet nothings into a stranger’s ear, entrancing her as you move against each other. You can see iridescence shining around her eyes, shimmering glitter and an emerging pattern beneath makeup. You brush a thumb against her cheek and she melts into your touch. You don’t get her name. You don’t need to; you’re both not long for this world. You catch up with your friends smoking outside, your lips still tingling with vermouth.

Weeks pass. Work ends. Your apartment is down to furniture and cat supplies. You take longer showers. News stories continue to come out, the machine churns and roils: monsters walking among humans, the mark of the beast, sacrificing daughters to the ocean. 

You make sure your meds are reupped for the final stretch.

When your legs start to merge you know you don’t have much time left. You donate the last boxes of your clothes. Your friends get first dibs on furniture before it’s put on the street. They bring drinks and sit on your floor, an impromptu celebration and wake. They ask all the usual questions: what are you going to do for food? Shelter? What if you get hurt, or attacked by a shark? Do they have waterproof laptops yet? Will they ever see you again? What if it isn’t right for you? Can you ever come back?

You don’t know how to answer most of those questions. The group stays with you through the night. At 4AM you put on The Little Mermaid and the group drunkenly sings along. Everyone knows the words. It’s juvenile and you can hear the maidens on the reddit rolling their eyes and tutting about misrepresentation, but you know everyone in your position does it. You try not to cry, but the waterworks start and don’t stop.

At daybreak you put your cat into her harness and everyone piles into a friend’s van. It’s not far to the beach, but they take the long way around. One final tour of the land. Your cat sits on your lap and stares out the windows as you pass old haunts, your grocery store, your gym, your high school. You realize you still have library books to return and almost get them to turn around, but someone promises to go back for them afterwards.

There’s an isolated area on the beach where a canopy and tables are set up; banners, food, friends. It’s a regular going away party, as if you’re going on a short trip abroad. You suppose you are, in a way. Someone rented a wheelchair with fat tires to help you get down to the beach.

When your mother arrives she pulls her shirt off to show her custom-made clam bra. Her eyes are already red and puffy, but she’s doing her best to be energetic and upbeat. She holds you for a long time and says she’s happy for you, that you’re beautiful, that you’re so much stronger than she ever was, and then she puts on a brave face to help everyone get served at the buffet. Your cat chases small crabs across the beach around you, and you sit in the sand. The party goes strong.

The tides come up until your fin is tickled by the seafoam. Everyone knows that means it’s time to go. You pass your cat off to her new owner and she gives you a last headbutt. She seems to understand. You kiss your mother’s cheek one last time and she clings to you. The group raises their drinks as you paddle out, disappearing beneath the waves. You give them the money shot and leap out of the water on your way out of the sound, and you can hear cheering from the shoreline. You hope someone got a video for the maidens.

You keep the city in sight for a while, but the currents lead you further into open waters. There are boaters out on the water who wave to you. You wave back and keep swimming up the coast. 

At dusk you rise to the surface and watch the setting sun turn the horizon from blue to pink to purple and orange. There’s nothing for leagues around. As the sun sinks below the waves and the skies darken you sing your first real siren’s song. Shaky and imperfect, it soon resounds over the ocean breeze. You leave everything behind in it. There are no words, only feeling and sound. It’s a lament, an invocation, a dirge. It is many things, but it isn’t an apology. You have nothing to apologize for.

In the seas beyond a chorus joins in with a language you never learned but understand, integrating your song into theirs. You swim to join them.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Take it Off

Older!Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie takes you on a date and can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you look in your dress, and most importantly, what you’d look like out of it.

This is a continuation of my older!Eddie request!

word count: 4.4k

cw: reader is 25 and Eddie is 40, MDNI 18+ smut (p in v) , hurt/comfort if you squint

You stared at your reflection in your full length, mirror, second guessing your outfit for the thousandth time that night. The dress had fit you like a glove and hugged you in all the right places, but you were still unsure if it was the right choice. There was a lot of riding on your date with Eddie and you weren’t sure he would like what you were wearing.

You had bought the thing after you had gotten off of work and even though the saleswoman had insisted that it had looked amazing on you, you were still unsure. It was a pretty shade of blue that complimented your skin tone perfectly and it stopped at your ankles, just short enough that you wouldn’t trip on it.

You were about to change once again when there was a knock on your door. Your heart hammered in your chest as you reached for your purse and shoes. Eddie hadn’t told you were you were going and just asked you to dress nice, which made you nervous.

You practically ran to the door and opened it, Eddie on the other side, looking like a dream in his maroon button up shirt that was only buttoned up halfway, giving you a great view of his tattoos. The shirt was covered by a black blazer that was paired with black slacks and pair of dress shoes.

His mouth practically dropped open at the sight of you, his eyes slowly raking down your body. He thought you looked perfect, the dress hugging every curve of your body.

“Hi,” he smiled and you mimicked it. “You look fucking amazing.”

“Hi, and thank you. So do you.” you replied and he held out his hand to you. His fingers were naked, his rings that usually adorned them, missing. You stared at them, taking in how slender they were, wondering how they would feel intertwined with yours, wondering how they would feel shoved up your-

“Ready?” He offered you his hand and you looked down at your feet, realizing that they were still bare.

“Hold on,” you told him, placing your hand on his shoulder so you could put on your shoes and he rested his hand on the small of your back to make sure you were steady. Once they were on, you took Eddie’s hand and the two of you walked to the elevator.

His hand was warm and rough and you wished you could have held it forever, hoping that if you played your cards right, he’d let you. He gave yours a squeeze as he turned to you with a bright smile which you returned.

You couldn’t believe it. After months of crushing on Eddie, you were actually going out with him. And he had been the one who had asked despite your want to do it. And thank god for that since you knew you wouldn’t have been able to get the words out without sounding like an idiot.

The two of you got to the elevator and Eddie pressed the button that led down to the lobby before pulling you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“What was that for?” You asked as he just looked down at you with his Bambi eyes. They were so pretty and warm and looked at you with so much affection that it warmed your heart.

“Does there have to be a reason?” There really didn’t, but you were going to ask for one anyway.

“No,” you shook your head.

“I just like to kiss you, how about that?” You liked the sound of that, pulling Eddie even closer to you, moving your arms underneath his blazer.

“Then please continue.” You smiled up at him and he couldn’t help but do whatever you said.

“Happy to.” He pressed his lips to yours once again as the elevator doors opened. Eddie backed you inside, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he did so. The kiss was sweet and gentle despite all the ones you had shared the night before.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked against his lips.

“Why don’t you wait and see?” He pulled back to look at you, his hand moving up to your cheek.

“Why don’t you just tell me?” Eddie was starting to like seeing that side of you. He liked the idea of making you beg.

“You’re impatient.” he pressed his lips to your neck, peppering it with kisses.

“You’re going to have to get used to that.” He supposed he would, and he could. He really could.

His mouth sucked on your neck and just as you made a noise at the sensation, the elevator doors opened at the lobby. Eddie was quick to remove his lips from your neck and took you by the hand again, leading you to the front door.

Once there, he opened the door and let you step out first, resting his hand on the small of your back as he took you to his car, wanting to keep you safe in the dark of the night. And maybe he just wanted an excuse to touch you.

As soon as you got to Eddie’s car, he was quick to open the passenger door for you, gesturing to the seat.

“Oh, thank you,” you said and slowly got into the seat before Eddie closed the door. He rounded the front of the car and joined you inside, sitting in the driver’s seat.

You looked around the vehicle as Eddie started it up, noticing just how nice it was, loving the color of the cherry red interior. You didn’t know what Eddie did for a living, but you were sure that it payed a lot.

That caused you to wonder why he was living in your apartment building when he could have easily lived somewhere nicer. You were grateful, though, that he had been your next door neighbor. Convinced that it had been fate that the two of you were there together that night.

You didn’t care if it seemed silly to believe in that sort of thing, but you were hoping that maybe, possibly that Eddie was the exact right person for you. He was sweet and caring and even though you hadn’t spent that much time with him, you knew that he cared about you. Why else would he have carried that heavy chair up for you?

Eddie’s car rolled up to the restaurant and your eyes widened at the very fancy building before you. You could see the nice tables with the white table clothes and candles through the window. Couples were drinking glasses of wine and chatting happily over their overpriced food and you were mesmerized by a world that you had never entered. Maybe dating an older man had its perks.

The car door was opened for you, but the person opening it wasn’t Eddie. It was a man in a vest and he held out his hand with a smile. You gratefully took it and he helped you out of the car while Eddie handed off his keys to the man in front of him.

You joined Eddie on the sidewalk and the two of you watched the man drive Eddie’s car away before Eddie turned to you. You had never been to place that was so nice that it had valet parking. This was a whole other life you never thought you’d be apart of.

Eddie wrapped an arm around your waist and led you inside to the hostess stand where you could see the woman behind it eyeing him with a flirty look.

“Reservation for Munson,” he told her as he pulled you more into his side. She nodded in response and grabbed two fancy looking menus before turning on her heel to lead you both to your table.

“Right this way.” She led you to a table further into the restaurant, an area that was little more private and you wondered what strings Eddie had to pull to get you into that space. Probably many.

“And here we are,” she stopped at a table closer to the back and set the menus down on the table before putting on a bright smile. “Enjoy,” was all she said before turning on her heel, leaving the two of you alone.

Eddie was quick to pull out your chair for you and you sat down before he pushed it closer to the table. He then headed over to his side and sat across from you, putting on his million dollar smile. You both put your napkins in your laps then opened the menus, your eyes widening at the prices. The only thing that you could have afforded there was the water and that was only because it was complimentary. You could barely afford your rent, let alone a seventy-five dollar steak.

“Eddie,” you looked up at him, panic evident in your voice. His eyes snapped up at you, wanting to know what was wrong. The date had just started and he had already fucked up?

“What’s wrong?” He asked, lowering his menu so he could see your face.

“This place is really expensive and I don’t think I can afford-“

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “Order whatever you want. I’ll take care of you.” His words seemed so sincere and you could tell that he wasn’t trying to buy your affection, but you were still felt a little bad.

“But-“

Eddie hated that you were worrying about money when he was supposed to be treating you. He would have never asked you to pay for your own meal when he was the one who had asked you out. And he hated that you were worrying in general when you were supposed to be having fun.

“I’ve got all this money and I need someone to spend it on. Why can’t it be you?” Why couldn’t it be you? You had dated so many losers in your lifetime and deserved to finally be treated right. And you trusted that Eddie could do just that. If the date had gone well, maybe you could have seen yourself having a future with him.

“Why should it be me?” You were younger than him by a lot and were sure that there was alone of women waiting for just a sliver of a chance with him so why you?

“Because you’re the only one I’d want to spoil. You’re sweet and kind and very easy on the eyes.”

“Can I ask you a question?” There was something that had been weighing on your mind and you needed to know the answer.

“Of course you can.” His hand reached for yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze accompanied by a soft smile.

“Did you only ask me out because we had sex last night?” His eyes widened at your question and his eyebrows furrowed, almost as if he was offended.

“No, honey, of course not.” His thumb rubbed your hand sympathetically, wondering what would have prompted you to ask such a question. “I asked you out because I’ve liked you for a long time.”

“You like me?” You were shocked by his confession. Sure, you had assumed that he liked you since he had asked you out, but you never expected him to actually admit it.

You had never had luck with men. They either were too interested or never even spared you a second glance. Dates were always a disaster, ending in terrible sex or you left before the check came because of their awful behavior. And then once nice guy came along and you almost didn’t believe him because why would a guy like that be interested in you?

“Of course I like you.” The words were followed by a chuckle as he continued to rub his thumb along your knuckles. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yes.” You wanted to know all of Eddie’s secrets. You wanted to know every single thing about him, to share stuff about himself that no one else knew.

“I wasn’t even going anywhere last night. I saw you leave your apartment and I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.” Why would he have needed an excuse to talk to you? You would have dropped everything just to have a conversation with him.

“Why would you need an excuse? You could have just talked to me.” He could have, but he had every intention of asking you out and the thought made him nervous. He hadn’t liked anyone like that in a long time and suddenly, his usually moves didn’t seem to go right.

“I didn’t want you to think I was weird.” You never would have thought Eddie was weird. And even if you did, you would have welcomed his quirks with open arms, deciding that those always made people unique.

“I’d never think that.” You shook your head as a server approached your table. With your permission, Eddie ordered a wine for the table that you had never even heard of, let alone could pronounce. Hearing him pronounce the French words so perfectly was making you a little wet. His accent was so hot and you didn’t even know he could speak French.

“So, French, huh?” You asked as the server went to fetch your wine.

“I spent a summer in France with my uncle Wayne.” That sounded about right. Of course he had been to other countries. That was typically what rich people did. Not that you would have known anything about that since you wouldn’t have even been able afford your dinner without Eddie paying for it.

“That’s really cool. Does he live there?” Your conversations with Eddie always flowed so easily, like you were old friends instead of neighbors that barely knew each other.

The server dropped off the wine and served it to you both before taking your orders then heading back to the kitchen to put them in. You took a sip from your glass, assuming you were going to hate it, but were pleasantly surprised by the flavor. It was very sweet, which surprised you since you would have figured that he liked wine on the dryer side.

“He does now,” he nodded, taking a sip from his wine. “He’s got a famous bakery there.”

“That sounds amazing. Good for him.” Eddie seemed very proud of his uncle and that warmed your heart. They seemed very close, almost like father and son.

“Have you ever been?” To France? Absolutely not. You had almost had gone with your great aunt, but she randomly decided that she was going to take your cousin instead. And you totally weren’t still upset about it.

“Nope, never even left New York.” You tried to not sound so bitter when you said the words. You had always wanted to travel, but it was just never in the cards.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to take you sometime.” He leaned closer to you and pressed his lips to the hand he was still holding before letting your hands fall back to the table. Despite his flirty tone, you could hear the truth in his words. He really would take you to France.

“I guess you will.” You took a sip from your wine and tried to pace yourself, not wanting the first time you got drunk around Eddie being in public. That would have just been embarrassing.

“Can I just say, you look beautiful tonight. Honestly, it’s kind of distracting.” Your cheeks flushed at his comment and you were hoping that he just thought it was the alcohol.

“You’re the distracting one, leaving nothing up to the imagination.” You gestured to his practically open shirt and found yourself wanting to trace his tattoos with your fingers. You wanted him tell you the stories behind them and exactly what they meant.

“That was on purpose and clearly it worked.” He winked, taking another sip from his wine.

“Clearly.” You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of his chest, finding yourself wanting to run your tongue all along it, wanting to feel his chest hair under your fingers.

“How about we take our food to go and move straight to dessert?” You liked that idea. You liked that idea a lot. Your dress was suddenly feeling uncomfortable and you desperately needed Eddie to take it off.

“I’d like that.” You nodded furiously, bitting down on your bottom lip as you noticed Eddie’s eyes darkening.

The server brought by your meals and Eddie requested to go boxes only for the server to take the dishes back to the kitchen to pack it up for you. The boxes were set on the table along with the check and you tried to get a peek but Eddie pulled it out of your line of sight before you could see it. He pulled his wallet out of his blazer jacket then reached for one of his many card before putting it in the top of the little book.

He turned his attention to you and you brought your foot up to the side of his leg and grazed it. His eyes darkened even more as your leg moved up and down his leg, his dick getting hard thinking about having his way with you in his backseat.

The served couldn’t have taken Eddie’s card and brought it back soon enough as the two of you were practically racing out of the restaurant, him leading you through the place as if it were a maze.

As soon as you got out onto the side walk, Eddie grabbed you by the hips and pulled you to him, pulling you into a rushed and heated kiss. His tongue found yours very quickly and they swirled together as you both tried to hold back your moans.

Eddie pulled away as the valet brought his car up to the curb and he was quick take the keys back, helping you into the car before rushing over to his side. He started up the car and sped up, close to flooring it as he flew down the street, desperate to get the two of you back to his apartment.

The ten minute drive felt like agony, the two of you aching for each other as Eddie pulled into his usual parking spot. He helped you out of your seat then led you inside, making a beeline of the elevators. He pressed the “up” button on all three of them for a greater chance to get upstairs faster. One of them opened and he shoved you into to it, pushing you against the wall and his mouth was on yours, this kiss hot and desperate. Your hand moved to his shirt and quickly unbuttoned it, moving up to his hairy chest. You licked into his mouth as the elevator doors opened and you both slowly made your way down the hall, lips still attached.

“Hold on.” Eddie pulled away, reaching into his pocket for his keys. He fiddled around with them before finding the right one and unlocking the door. He let you go inside first and you couldn’t help but notice how nicely decorated it was. Definitely nicer than yours.

Eddie grabbed hold of your hand and quickly turned you around to face him, his lips capturing yours once again. His lips moved down to your shoulder, pressing gentle kisses to it. He removed the strap to have better access and moved his hands up your back, resting them on the zipper of your dress.

“This is a beautiful dress, sweetheart,” he mumbled against your skin. “But I think it would look much better on the floor.” You got even more wet at his words, desperate to let him have his way with you.

“I agree.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Eddie removed the straps from your shoulders and slowly sliding the zipper down your back. The thing pooled at your feet and Eddie got even more hard once he noticed that you been completely naked underneath the dress. You collapsed onto the couch as Eddie ditched his own clothes in record speed, making sure to grab a condom from his pocket.

He rolled the thing onto his cock then practically throwing himself on top of you, taking no time to thrust into you. You let out a loud moan at the sensation and he took that as an invitation to continue, pounding into you as hard as he could.

You both made multiple sounds of pleasure and Eddie loved watching you come undone underneath him, your eyes closed, your head tilted back, your hands scratching up and down his back.

You grabbed onto Eddie’s ass, your fingers digging into the skin as you tried to get him farther inside of you. You needed every single inch of him. He let out a yelp at the feeling, but wasn’t afraid to admit that he liked the sting.

“Need more of you, Eds.” You arched your back, trying your best to take all of him.

“I’m doing to best I can, sweetheart,” he continued to pump in and out of your cunt, moving as hard and as fast as he could, wanting to do whatever he could to please you. “Sure you can take it?” He was just afraid of hurting you.

“I can take it.” You opened your eyes and showed him that you meant it. “Please.”

“Okay,” he let out a sigh, knowing that he couldn’t never say no to you. “You ready?”

“Was ready five minutes ago-oh,” your complaint was cut off by a loud moan falling from your lips as Eddie fit all of himself inside of you, letting out a moan of his own. It felt just as good as you thought it had and you were surprised he could even get it all the way in with how big he was.

He continued to pound into you, his fingers digging even further into your hips and you knew for sure that the pressure was going to leave bruises. Not that you minded. You actually preferred it, wanting him to leave marks all over your body.

Your nails moved to his back and scratched up and down it as he continued to thrust in and out of your pussy, more and more moans escaping both of your mouths.

“Look at you, taking me so well,” Eddie commented between breaths. “Look like a princess underneath me. God, you’re so hot, you don’t even know.” He pressed bruising kiss to your lips and you were quick to return it, your hands moving to his hair as he took your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a soft nip. You tugged at his hair and he took that as an invitation to continue, biting even harder. You gave his hair another yank as a whimper fell from your lips and he diffused the sting with his tongue before sticking the thing into your mouth, letting it scrape roughly against yours.

Eddie pulled away and continued to thrust into you, slower this time, the two of you starting to lose the stamina you had before, but not wanting it to end.

“So good, Eds,” you moaned. “Faster, baby,” you slurred and Eddie just let out a chuckle.

“Aww, don’t go dumb on me, love,” he moved the sweaty hair that had stuck to your forehead and pressed a kiss to it. “Think you got one more in you before we go to bed?” You absolutely did not, but you were going to try and convince him that you did.

“Mmm,” was all you responded with and Eddie took that as a sign that you both needed to go to sleep. He pulled out and cleaned the both of you up before wrapping you up in one of his blankets before carrying you to his room when he realized that you could barely walk. Well, let’s be honest, he would have carried you even if you could walk.

Eddie careful set you down on his bed then moved to his closet for some pajamas. They were a silk pair, his favorite. He wouldn’t have usually let anyone wear them, but he thought you deserved special treatment. Once he dressed himself, he moved over to you with the pajamas in his hands.

“Need to dress you, angel. Is that okay?” He wanted full consent before he continued.

“I’d rather you undress me,” you slurred, trying and failing to make your tone flirty.

“You’re already undressed,” he laughed.

“Dress me, baby,” you ripped off the blanket and Eddie stepped forward, tossing the pajamas onto the bed before reaching for the top.

“Arms out, angel.” You did as he said and put your arms out as he put each arm into a sleeve then buttoned the thing up. He then reached for the pants and slid them up your legs, pulling them up until they rested on your hips.

Eddie stepped back, taking a moment to admire the way you looked in his pajamas. His friends had teased him for having his first and last initials sewn into the pockets of his pajama shirts, but it didn’t seem so silly now, considering that was where your heart was. God, he was so down bad for you and he didn’t even care.

“Alright,” he reached for your hands, pulling you to your feet. “Time for bed.” He pulled back the covers and helped you get under them, your legs still feeling like jello.

“What about brushing our teeth,” you asked, not loving the idea of going to bed without the minty taste in your mouth.

“I’d be happy to brush your teeth, angel, but you seem a little too tired for that. Would a cuddle make up for it?”

“Always.”

Eddie got into the bed next to you and pulled you into his arms, giving you a bright smile. You mimicked it as well as you could in your tired state and Eddie just laughed in return.

“Get some rest, angel,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before snuggling further into you. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a sigh of content, hoping that you could wake up next to that man every morning for the rest of your life. Little did you know that only a few months later, he’d get down on one knee and ask exactly that.

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 3 :

Heaven being a hot tennis (sorta) gf before she saw her (sorta) man lose:

Note: Okay, once again, thank you so much for the love you guys have shown this story. I'm really inspired by Challengers right now and think I have a lot of ideas for this story. Once again, this oc is not meant to be perfect, she is just as messy and just as young as the characters in the movie. She is a college student and will act like an (albeit messy) one. I'm very grateful for all of the replies, likes, reblogs and interaction in general. It really inspires me to see what you all think and see that people are enjoying it. Regarding the tag list, I am going to try this again, but for some reason, every time I do it seems to not work for people, so let me know if it works this time. Finally, MDNI, like for real, not playing, stay out of grown folks business, if I find out you'll be blocked. Love you all and hope you enjoy! <3

Warnings: Sexual content, strong language, slight themes of cheating(idk if it counts yet)

Taglist: @spookystitchery @anehkael @fkaams @butterflyybabe @sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384

“Holy shit.” Tashi murmurs under her breath as she climbs the cobblestone walkway to the address Heaven had given her. This was gonna be their first time hanging outside of the gym or school. Tashi knew they lived in different neighborhoods, but they share a school zone, she hadn’t realized Heaven’s family had money. The girl didn’t seem different from her. They both liked the same games, same music minus the classical that she kept playing that Tashi found herself falling asleep to recently. 

She turns and waves to her dad, trying to encourage him to pull off before she rings the doorbell, sighing as he stubbornly remains still, watching her get up to the door from his car window. 

The large, wooden door opens as some obnoxious bell rings into the house, the noise spilling outside. The sound of heels clacking gets closer and closer until the door opens revealing a woman with a stern look on her face. Her brown hair is slicked back into a bun and she’s wearing a crisp white button down shirt with pressed jeans and heels. Tashi can’t remember the last time she’d seen her own mother wear heels. She looked so…put together. “Can I help you?”

“I’m Tashi Duncan. I’m Heaven’s friend, we go to school together. She hasn’t been in school the last few days, so I have her make-up work. I called and asked her if it was okay if I dropped it off and she said yes-”

“Heaven is training right now. I can take that, and she’ll be back in school when we get back from our trip.” The woman offers a smile but otherwise quickly takes the binder from Tashi’s hands and goes to retreat into the house only to be stopped by a voice behind her.

“Mom, wait-” Out from behind the woman comes Heaven. Her skin is glistening from sweat and her hair is curling at the nape. She’s dressed in a black leotard with worn, tan ballet shoes on her feet. She smiles brightly as she sees Tashi, pulling her into a hug despite her unkempt state. “Tashi, hey, thank you.” 

Tashi is almost hesitant to hug the girl back in front of her no nonsense appearing mother, but opts to return the hug regardless, letting Heaven intertwine their fingers as she pulls back. “No problem.”

Heaven’s brown eyes scan Tashi’s own outfit and her smile drops a little. “Were you about to go play tennis? Mom, Tashi’s the best tennis player ever. She’s gonna be like Serena Williams.” 

“Is that so?”  Heaven’s mom’s brow raises as she looks down at the girl standing at her door. 

Tashi got it. It sounds like a lofty goal. Even at such a young age, Tashi was confident in her abilities. She knows what she can do. But Mrs. Whitlock had never seen her play. If she did, she’d know that Tashi Duncan is tennis. For now, Heaven stating it like it’s a fact is enough to satisfy her. “I just got back from practicing. And yes, ma’am. I’m the best.” 

Mrs. Whitlock looks impressed at that, pursing her lips and nodding in approval before nudging her own daughter. “I’d bet she’s the best because she trains. Which is what you’re supposed to be doing.” 

Heaven bites her lip, rocking on her feet, causing her shoes to make a clack sound on the floor. “Can Tashi watch?” she grabs her mom’s sleeve and pleads harder at the disapproving look on her face. “Please? She’ll help. She helps me run drills at the gym all of the time. I haven’t gotten to see any friends all week. I’ll keep practicing, mom.” Her fingers tighten around Tashi’s in a way that has her clenching back, glancing at her Dad’s car to see him climbing out, noting that he probably hadn’t expected this to take so long. “Please, mom.”

“I can help, Mrs. Whitlock.” Tashi adds. “I promise, I won’t distract her.”

After some begging, from Heaven and promises to be useful from Tashi, Mrs. Whitlock allowed them 90 minutes. As long as Heaven kept practicing while Tashi was there.

Apparently, Heaven’s dance company was putting on Sleeping Beauty and this was the first year that Heaven has been old enough to play Aurora. Tashi learned that last year Heaven had been snubbed for Cinderella and made a Season Fairy instead. In Heaven’s words, if she ‘earned Cinderella, she should’ve been Cinderella’. But this year, there was no excuse. She was a little taller, she was 13 and she wouldn’t let them take it from her. 

“Again.” Tashi says, stepping away from Heaven, folding her arms. 

If she’d thought Heaven’s family had money from outside the house, she knows they do now. Here she stood in Heaven’s ‘dance studio’. She concedes that it’s just a room with mirrors, ballet bars and wooden floors, it looked pretty damn official to her. It’s not like her parents had failed to provide. She’s a member of a tennis team, has two coaches, and frequently attends the courts in town. But to have it in her home? She’d give anything. 

“Water. Then again.” Heaven huffs, walking over to one of the mirrors and grabbing her water bottle. 

The Rose Adage. Arguably the hardest part of Sleeping Beauty the ballet. Heaven showed a video of a professional performance to Tashi and still pointed out mistakes. The dance is all about stamina and balance. As far as Tashi could tell, Heaven had mastered all of it except the last part.

The balance. 

She’s hitting every beautiful move, every pose. But the last part.  The very last part of the dance where Aurora has to rely completely on her partner to be steady enough to guide her as she’s en pointe in attitude pose. She’s essentially meant to be a figure in a music box. Heaven had done it at least 20 times since Tashi had arrived and started being her stand-in partner. 

But her leg. Her damn leg kept quivering in the last few seconds. She doesn’t fall out. She doesn’t lose her position. But her goddamn leg quivers in the turn. Tashi sees it. She sees it. 

Neither of them are satisfied.

“Talk to me about something else. I’m getting annoyed.” Heaven says, taking a deep swig of her drink. She hands the bottle to Tashi, leaving the mouthpiece up for the other girl to get a drink too as she walks off to grab her towel.

Swallowing a gulp of water, Tashi shrugs, sitting on the floor and criss-crossing her legs. “Jacob and Tammy broke up again.”

“Really?” Heaven tosses her towel to the corner and goes over the bar closest to Tashi, perching one leg up on it. Holding true to what she promised her mother and continuing to practice. “They just got back together last week. That means Jacob’s gonna ask you to go to the dance with him next week.”

“Shut up.” Tashi scoffs with a smile, watching her friend stretch. 

“He will.” Heaven hums. “You gonna say yes?”

Tashi laughs, stretching her own back before laying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. “Why would I do that? I don’t like Jacob, he’s boring.” She turns her head to look at Heaven again. “I figured we were going together.”

“Why would you think that?” Heaven grunts as she switches legs. “You haven’t asked me.”

Tashi rolls her eyes, pushing off of the floor and moving back to the middle of the room. “Break time’s over, let's go.” 

“I didn’t take a damn break.” Heaven laughs, nonetheless moving over and getting into position. “You’re not gonna ask me?”

“Straighten your back.”

“It’s straight.” Heaven says, going up onto her single foots, eyes following Tashi as she spins her in place, not even noticing how much time is passing. “Fine. I’ll do it then, come to the dance with me.”

Tashi stops spinning the girl, stepping back once again, this time with a smug smile on her face. “Sure why not. It’ll be fun dancing with a princess.” 

Heaven lowers her foot slowly and as the realization hits her, her own smirk forms on her face. She’d done it. And her leg didn’t shake.

“Let’s show your mom, maybe she’ll let me come hang out more when she sees that I’m basically teaching you ballet.” Tashi jokes, only to be pushed by Heaven.

“Shut up and spin me again.”

“Call me when you make it back, okay?” Heaven smiles, removing her arms from Tashi’s neck and stepping back. “Love you.”

“You call me when you get the lead.” the girl smiles back, pulling Heaven in for a brief peck before walking over to get back into Patrick’s car. “And I know.”

Art doesn't manage to look away in time for that one, but quickly turns his head away as Patrick pulls the girl in, teeth grinding as he hears their lips separate. 

“I’ll visit after the first leg of my tour.” His friend mumbles behind him. Art can feel his lip curling as he tries to work a neutral expression onto his face. As he looks at the car he can see Tashi looking back at him with a pensive stare and immediately turns his back to say his own goodbye. 

He tries to wait until Patrick is standing at the window of the passenger seat, speaking to Tashi to pull Heaven a little further away. “Hey, are we gonna talk about before?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

“Heaven.” Art says, a pleading in his voice that drags her gaze back to him.

The girl shifts on her feet, glancing over his shoulder at the car and back at him. “Okay, we kissed. So what?”

“So what? Is that how you feel about it? So what?” Art asks, the hurt in his voice is clear as he looks down at the girl, brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m just saying we had a moment.”

“Fuck.” Heaven breathes, shaking her head. “Yeah. Okay. Are you gonna tell them?”

He straightens at that. He wants to say yes. He wants to be selfish, and ruin whatever the fuck is going on between the three of them. He doesn’t even know what he’d do once he did, he just knows he wants whatever this is, with them, to stop. 

But how can he? Looking at her face, pleading up at him. Watching her all morning, curling into Tashi and Patrick like it would undo what happened the night before. Like it would change the looks they’ve been sharing over their shoulders all morning. “You asked me not to.” he says softly.

Heaven nods quietly at that. “Thank you.” And with that she turns, arms wrapped around herself as she goes to climb the steps to get to her building door. Art watches her back. When he gets in the car he’ll make something up. He’ll say he just wanted to make sure she got inside safe. He definitely wasn’t waiting, hoping, praying she’d look back. Give him one more look. Something. 

She doesn’t.

But a few days later while he’s on the court practicing with one of the guys from the team, thinking for the twentieth time that Patrick may have been a little right wasting time considering he was absolutely destroying the kid with about half of his effort, he gets a text from an unknown number. 

12:41 p.m. : I got the lead.

He can’t help the smile that starts forming when he sees it on his screen.

“Donaldson, are you up for another set or what?” 

Heaven huffs in irritation as her leg bounces on the bleachers. Shifting in her seat again her cheek dimples with a frown as she watches Patrick’s racket go flying. “Fucking ridiculous.” she sighs, crossing her legs.

She’d been in school for a couple of weeks now and Patrick had a match not too far from her. She’d decided to be a good..whatever she is to him and come out and show some support. Tashi is preparing for her own match coming up, and to be honest, his performance on this leg hadn’t been impressive enough to encourage her to want to come see. 

Heaven was trying to be supportive. Despite his broke boy act, he had sent her flowers to her dorm the week of her auditions. So had Art, something that the girls in the dorm had been scandalized by when they realized the cards were not addressed by the same person. Tashi had called her to remind her of her schedule that week, meditated with her over the phone. She wanted to give the same support to them.

When the match ends she’s already reaching for her phone and sure enough, its vibrating in her purse. “I know.”

“Did you see that shit?”

“I know. I don’t know what the fuck he’s doing. Seriously.” Heaven stands from her seat, scooting passed the small crowds of peeople and making her way down the bleachers.

“Fucking around. He gets lazy-”

“In the third, yeah. He was better than this guy.” She squints to see him storming his way into the building to go the locker room and starts following him. “He’s pissed.”

“He should be embarrassed.” There’s the sound of something snapping closed on the other end and Heaven knows Tashi slams her laptop. “He was off screen for me, how are you seeing him?”

“I drove out here, it’s pretty close.” She says, balancing her phone on her shoulder with her cheek as she pushes the door to the building open and starts looking around for the men’s locker rooms. “Figured he could use the support.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone for a moment and Heaven pauses in her steps, waiting for Tashi to say something. “Hm.”

“What?” Heaven sighs, leaning against the hallway, waving away an employee politely that seemed alarmed that she was on her way into the men’s locker room. “Babe, what?”

“Nothing, I’m sorry you didn’t get to see a win. He wasted our time. You could be rehearsing.” 

“S’fine, he just needs to get his shit together before-”

“I’ve gotta go.” Tashi cuts in. “I’m gonna hit the ball with Art. Hang out a little, we’ve been busy. Tell Patrick to call me later.”

Tashi hangs up before Heaven can say anything else. Breathing out in irritation, she pushes off of the wall and enters the locker room, putting a hand over her eyes and laughing at the men either scrambling to cover up or pausing to check her out.

The guy Patrick just played against wraps a towel around himself, making his way over to her with a smile. “You lost, sweetheart?”

Keeping her hand over her eyes she giggles, making her voice sickly sweet. “No, I’m a really big tennis fan, and I wanted to see if I could get that really hot guy Patrick Zweig’s number.”

“What?” He asks. 

One of Patrick's tourmates peaks his head out from behind a locker and rolls his eyes. “Zweig, your girlfriend’s here.”

Heaven can’t help but think to herself that as Patrick rounds the corner he doesn’t know exactly who he’s talking about. It makes her wonder, is that what she is? She, Tashi and Patrick have been hooking up since after his match with Art and it’s been fun. She likes him. He’s funny, and snarky, talking to him has been like…being with a male Tashi. 

But does she consider herself his girlfriend? Does he? She knows he dumped the girl he’d been seeing when he’d met them, but does he still hook up with girls while he’s on tour. And even then, is she a stop on his tour? 

Suddenly, she’s feeling a little like what she was just pretending to be. A groupie.

“Oh fuck yeah, hey.” He grins when he sees her. He’s changed out of his clothes from before into a ‘fuck you’ t-shirtand sweats. He immediately throws his arm over her shoulders, knocking her hand from in front of her eyes and replacing it with his own. “What do you think this is? A peep show? Huh? I missed you.”

Heaven laughs as she lets him guide her out of the humid room out into the hallway again, once they’re there, pulling his hand away and hugging him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He smiles, pressing his lips to hers. Heaven pushes up onto her toes to meet him, giving him a few more pecks before pulling back. “You came up here by yourself?”

Translation: where’s Tashi. “Yeah…but, um, she wants you to call her later.”

“She was watching?” He asks, placing his arm back around Heaven and walking them back outside toward concessions. “Okay, so you both saw, that was bullshit, right?”

Yeah, we saw some bullshit. Heaven squints, trying to read the menu at the stand despite the sun beating down, trying not to look Patrick in the face. “Did you get tired or something?”

“No, but the calls were fucking stupid, they were robbing me.” 

“Hm.” Heaven raises one shoulder and drops it, turning back to the man at the stand. “Small vanilla ice cream please. 

Patrick laughs humorously, reaching in his pocket and pulling out his wallet. “Large.” Turning back to Heaven he shakes his head in disbelief. “You guys are just alike, you know? What does ‘hm’ mean?”

“I just think you could’ve beat him, he was fuckin’ scared of you the first half of the match.”

“I should’ve won.”

“I agree.” Heaven huffs, crossing her arms. 

Patrick, raises his eyebrows and throws his arms out a little, “Okay, so…”

“I just think you didn’t because you didn’t care to. It got hard so you made the decision to give up.” 

The older man in the stand clears his throat, holding out the cup of ice cream out with one spoon, eyeing the arguing pair. “Did you all need another one?”

“No.” Patrick says, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning to leave. “She can have the whole damn thing.”

Heaven’s eyes widen as she watches him walking away toward the building. She grabs the ice cream from the man walking over to a bench just outside of the courts. 

He’s walking slowly. He doesn’t wanna really leave. He’s just fucking like her. 

“I’m not fucking gonna chase you, Patrick.” Heaven chuckles, scooping some of the ice cream into her mouth. She watches from her seat as he stops. “And you’re proving my point. But I drove all the way here to see you. Are you gonna leave me on this bench?”  When he doesn’t immediately turn, Heaven nods to herself, taking another bite. “M’not getting up, Patrick.”

She watches as his shoulders rise and fall with his deep breath and he turns to face her again, marching back over and sitting roughly on the bench, jostling her a little but she keeps her face neutral. “I should have won.”

“I still agree.” Heaven says, scooping some of the treat onto the spoon and holding it to his mouth, knowing he was cooling off when he accepts it. “So why didn’t you?”

The brown haired man just sighs, dropping her head back against the bench with a thunk, staring up at the sky. “I dunno.”

“He was pissed at me.”

Art nods his head along as he steps out of the shower, wiping the condensation gathered on his phone on the towel before wrapping it around his waist and bringing the phone back to his ear. He knocks his hand on his suitemate’s door to let him know he’s out of the bathroom before he makes his way to his own room, closing the door. “He didn’t leave you out there, right?”

“No, he just did that thing he does, you know, storms off. But he calmed down and we had some fun. Could’ve done without the fight though.” 

Art wets his lip as he places the phone on speaker on his desk, letting Heaven’s voice fill his room. He never asked her what made her get his number from Tashi’s phone. He figured he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. They’d been texting every day since he’d gotten it, talking on the phone every other day. They’ve talked about everything. 

Where they’re both from, their families, interests outside of tennis and dance. He learned her favorite colors are baby blue and bright orange. That she used to want to cheerlead too but her mother made her choose ballet because she preferred it and said she couldn’t do both at the same time. That her dad left when she was two but she has a great relationship with her stepfather. 

She learned that while Art loved tennis, he’d tried to quit his boarding school three different times when he first got there, but each time he’d won a match and the sport pulled him back in. That he, despite complaining, loves seeing his grandma because she was the one who really raised him because his parents were busy. That he always wanted a younger sibling but never got one, so when he was still at the school, he and Patrick would help teach the younger students tennis when they weren’t dicking around. 

What she doesn’t know is that he could do without talking to her about dating his best friend.

 “I’d bet.”

Heaven laughs ruefully on the other side of the phone, and the sound has him melting immediately. Sits at his desk, letting himself air dry as he listens to her giggles ring out. “I’m being shitty. How’s school, Arthur?”

And that sends a shiver down his spine. He clears his throat, sitting up as he stares at the phone as if she was in its place. “It’s good, you know, I’ve been staying busy. Between classes and tennis. The guys here are kinda shitty, beating them doesn’t really mean shit.” 

“Well, not everyone can be Art Donaldson. You must be hanging out with Tashi too much, you’re sounding cocky over there.” 

“Nah, it’s just that bad,” he says. Determined to steer the conversation away from Tashi, Art thinks hard. “What ballet are you doing? I gotta make sure I know what I’m watching when I come watch you.”

“You’re supposed to watch everyone so you can understand the story.” she says. He can hear the sound of creaking letting him know that she’s climbing into her bed. Art follows suit, pulling on his boxers and pushing up into his own twin sized bed.

“Heaven, if you’re there, I’m gonna be watching you.” he breathes, smiling to no one but himself.

There’s a soft, ‘Okay’ on the other side of the line, and then nothing. Just the soft sound of her breathing. When they have moments like these Art feels the sting of knowing that he lost to Patrick and in a way Tashi, that day in a different way. I should’ve won. I don’t know why I didn’t win. All I’ve done since then is win. “So, um, we’re doing Romeo and Juliet. Off the record I think the choice is corny, but as a principal dancer, Juliet, I love it and can’t wait to do it.” 

“Lucky Romeo.” he jokes, earning him another breathy laugh. He can’t help it. He tries not to say anything and clenches his jaw tightly, kicking himself for opening his mouth again. “I’m sorry, did you tell them that you got the lead?”

“Art-”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. It’s just…you drove out there for his match. I couldn’t even go. Did he ask you how your auditions went? Did she?” 

“She told me I should rehearse, that’s how we talk to each other.” she says.

“And him? Did he ask?” 

“I’m not talking about this with you, that’s not why I called, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t vent to you about him. Or her. I know how you feel about her.” Heaven sighs.

“Do you know how I feel about you?” He asks. Silence. “Heaven, come on-”

“What would you do differently?” 

“Wh-” At first he doesn’t know what she’s asking. And once he realizes it, he knows she’s made it vague on purpose. Giving him an out. Giving herself an out. Asking too upfront would make it too real. But he wants it to be real. And he’s not gonna miss this opportunity. “I’d have been there the day you auditioned. You have a process and I know that, so I’d have called you before. Wish you luck. Tell you that you were beautiful. That I knew you’d get whatever part you wanted. And then I would have been there when you got out. I would’ve given you flowers. I’d tell you I’m proud of you. And I’d take you to get dinner.”

“Okay. Where?”

“We’d get your cheat food. And I couldn’t have it because I’m starting my season and I know you wouldn’t let me, but we’d get seafood and ice cream, and take it back to your room because you were probably so tired.” Art pauses then, waiting to see if she wants him to stop. He would stop, if she wanted him to stop, he would stop. This could be innocent. This could be advice from a friend who thinks she deserves better. But, that’s not what he wants. That’s all he thinks he has to offer her. “Heaven?”

“I’m…still here.”

“And…” Art thinks back ironically to all of the times Patrick has told him to take what he wants. To be forward and put himself first. “We’d take a shower together. I’d kiss you and massage you while I got you clean. Because, you deserve to relax, and you worked hard. And you were probably so sore, baby.” He hears Heaven’s breath hitch and shifts on his bed, continuing tentatively. “I’d touch you so good, Hev. I’d massage your breasts and kiss your neck. I’d mark your perfect skin. I…I’d want people to see it. To know who made you feel like that. To know who took care of you. I would put my fingers between your legs and make you feel so good. I’d hold you up so you don’t have to do anything. And I’d watch your face while you come for me.”

Art can feel his own labored breathing. He tries to tune the sound of himself out, only wanting to hear the whimpers that have started to come from his phone. He swallows back the last ounce of guilt he has as his hand slides down into his shorts, grabbing himself and biting back a moan as he thinks about his hands on Heaven, hearing her in his ear, feeling her under him. On top of him. Any way she wanted. 

“Fuck.” she gasps.

Art bites his lip briefly, willing away the jolt in his lower abdomen that comes from her sound, muscles flexing as he seizes upward slightly. He slows his hand on himself to a stop, pulling his hand out. Not until I hear it. Not until I get her there. “I’d carry you to your bed and lay you down. And I’d start at your feet. I’d kiss my way up your beautiful legs. People dream about your legs, Heaven, I dream about them. When you dance, when you walk, the way they look…fuck-” he groans, digging the hand that hadn’t grabbed the phone into his hair. “I’d push them apart and put them on my shoulders, and I’d taste you. I know you taste amazing, baby. I’d do anything to taste your cum.”

“Art-” she whines, and he lets his eyes slip closed. Behind his eyelids he can see her. In the bed, touching herself to him. Biting her pillow and crying out his name. Arching her back because it feels so good.

“Tell me it feels good, Heaven, please.”

“I…it feels good, Art.” 

He’s close. He can tell, with every sound she gives him, he gets closer, barely holding it together. He needs more. Just a little more. “Again.” he demands softly.

“You feel so good, Art.” she cries before dissolving into gasps and whimpers of his name.

He almost feels like he blacks out. Art doesn’t think he’s ever come so hard in his entire life. He literally rolls over onto his side to try to catch his breath and quiet his moans. He doesn’t think he could live it down if his suitemates came knocking at his door and he had to explain that he was trying to get his friends’ girlfriend off and accidentally worked himself up to the thought of taking her on a date and eating her out. 

Then there’s quiet again. The only noise is their shared rapid breathing crackling through the phone. They stay like that for a few minutes and Art thinks about how badly he wishes that it wouldn’t be absolutely crazy to tell her he wanted to drive the hours to UCLA, do exactly what he said on the phone and then hold her while they fall asleep. But, he knows better. And she speaks.

“I have to go.”

“Yeah.” Art breathes, sitting up grabbing tissues from his desk and starting to clean himself up. “I know.” 

He’s not gonna be the one to hang up. He wants more. He wants her voice. He wants her breaths. He wants to falling asleep on the phone. If she’s ready for the call to end, she’s gonna have to end it.

But she’s still here. 

“Art, I did tell them and…I don’t really know why but…I told you first.” 

Click.

[roomwithanopenfire]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks to @monbons and @rimeswithpurple for tagging me! I don't always do the WIP Wednesday posts but I've been writing a lot this week, so I kind of want to share!

I'm finally almost done writing the second chapter of my COBB fic, I only have one scene left to write. I told myself these chapters would be less than 5k, but the second one is nearly 7k now so whoops. Here's a tiny contextless snippet from that (convo between Fiona and Baz):

“Tell him that rats aren’t so bad. It’ll be bad enough if the Coven finds out I’m with any vampire, let alone one that’s not a vegetarian.”

I scoff. “Can’t be a vegetarian if you drink rat blood.”

“Tell that to the Cullens.”

I had half a mind after that comment to refuse to go on principle (Fiona knows I hate Twilight jokes), but I can’t shake the part of me that wants to ask Nico why.

You can blame (or thank) @m1ndwinder for the Twilight jokes, she's encouraging me. (Also for some reason this is exactly 6 sentences, when I hardly can find exactly 6 for Sundays.)

I'm also working steadily on editing more chapters for Proof of Life! Taking a break from posting so I can get a bit more of a backlog, so if you haven't started reading it, now's your chance! Snippet for this will be under the cut—not because it's spoilery, but because the impact isn't the same without the 37+ words leading up to it. (I should take a page from @monbons's book and forbid you from reading it but 🤷)

I’m halfway under the covers when I realise the window’s open. I reach for my wand and mutter a spell to close it. Snow stiffens when it bangs shut, but he doesn’t get up, simply lays down in his bed, pulling the covers over him.

Maybe he’s forgotten how to be mean to me too.

Exhaustion takes me over, and I sleep with dreams of Snow being nice to me and me being nice to him. 

In my dreams I call him Simon. 

Look everyone!! They're finally going to be in the same room as each other again!! Are we excited for their reunion?? And this snippet is exactly 6 sentences too! I swear I'm not even trying, why doesn't this ever happen to me on Sundays?

Tags + Hellos!!

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @facewithoutheart @run-for-chamo-miles @raenestee @onepintobean

@artsyunderstudy @prettygoododds @noblecorgi @hushed-chorus @angelsfalling16

@thewholelemon @shrekgogurt @brendughh @a-maisie-ng @fiend-for-culture

@hertragedyconnoisseur @beastmonstertitan @valeffelees @horsesarenotdeer @drowninginships

@supercutedinosaurs @cutestkilla @alexalexinii @ileadacharmedlife @arthurkko

@rbkzz @skeedelvee @bookish-bogwitch

This list keeps getting longer and I'm always afraid I'm going to miss someone 😅 anyone who wants to do it, feel free to tag me whenever, I love seeing these!!

[ylove-bandaesthetics]

HIII YESSY ANGEL! it’s great to see you back and I’m so happy you like the submissions I’ve been sending!! you always make gorgeous aesthetics for us and I wanted to do the same for you and make some aesthetics for your wonderful blog!

and WOW the requests and treats you’ve been making are so fucking beautiful too! you are so creative as well my dear! I will say sometimes I get the inspiration from the singers themselves (for example, rina sawayama has a song called “frankenstein” and that gave me the inspiration for the rina as frankenstein aesthetic, or maggie lindemann cosplaying as frankie stein, or hayley williams having a white streak on her hair like anna, etc)

expect some more aesthetics from me, though idk when because like every october I’m busy getting ALL THE HALLOWEEN DECORATIONS, I bought so many halloween stuff already, bat-shaped mugs, skulls, pumpkins, fake spiders, etc. I never spend money I usually save it, but I swear every october I spend so much money lmfaoooo but hey at least I do it just one month a year 😂

you might wanna check the ghost chibi aesthetic I sent you though because after the quote there’s a “my” and I think it wasn’t there when I sent it, maybe it was accidentally typed when you wrote “my most fav band queen as a ghost” in the tags, it’s ok tho just thought you might wanna edit it! have a wonderful spooky season angel, hope you get ALL THE STUFF this month too 🥰

[corrodedcoughin]

Thoughts on Teacher Steve in future fics

Then in conjunction with that Steve as a history teacher and Robin as a language teacher

Couple other ideas

-Robin yelling at Steve in another language and him going " I know I know" and when his students act suprised he knows another language he responds that he doesnt but he knows both this is your fault and your an idiot in all the languages she knows

-steve drives her to school everyday and makes lunch for them

- Robin is the only reason Steve doesn't show up to school when he's sick

-most of the school is convinced that they're dating until the day that gay marriage is legalized when Robin burst into his class about how they can get married now

- this confuses so many students until they see their history teacher on the cover of a metal magazine with a rockstar

- if they teach in Hawkins steve does a project about local historical events and has trouble keeping a straight face when one of them does tthhe creel murders and finds out they have a first person source teaching the class and just down the hall

- student getting confused by Robin's jokes about Steve 'always being the babysitter' and his kids because they know he's not married (at that point)

-when asked why she learned the languages she learned she always get laughs about breaking a Russian code as her reason for learning Russian

- Robin will play music for events if asked

-Robin will wake Steve up with trumpet music if she wakes up before him which doesn't usually happen

- Steve always gives Robin yellow roses on valentines day and receives black and red roses from Eddie that he puts on his desk

Sorry to send so much I have many thoughts on this feel free to ignore if it's not your cup of tea

Especially steddie teacher Steve Rockstar Eddie where Steve is just some teacher and eddie is a well know Rockstar and then Steve's student find out and just cannot compute the guy who taught them about the dustbowl being the guy that a Rockstar was singing about being badass

Don’t you DARE apologise for sending me stuff!!! Ever!!! This is the kind of thing that keeps me going so THANK YOU!!!

Honestly I love the idea of teacher Steve and him just being ‘some guy’ but whenever it’s a dress casual day he turns up with a corroded coffin shirt under his jacket that also has some cc pins on it. The student just think he’s a fan which, not going to lie, they are seriously surprised at because he’s ‘normie harrington’. But one day the school holds a talent show and Steve lets slip that his partner is actually going to be one of the judges so everyone just expects some ‘normie harrington gf’ to give everyone a ‘that’s was great sweetheart, you really should be proud of yourself’.

So when the talent show arrives and the judges file in and one of them is The Eddie Munson? The school goes into shocked awe. And when The Eddie Munson runs up to normie harrington and jumps into his arms? The shocked awe is stunned silence for all of two seconds before absolute chaos let’s loose.

[saetoru]

i’ve said this before but people who say “thank you for sharing this” in reblogs have a special place in my heart truly

[mike-el]

My favorite thing about 1899 is the characters delivering long, soulful monologues in their native language to another character who cannot understand a word they are saying

[chryblossomjjk]

going to be writing all day today. am finding intrinsic values in writing again so the inevitable community label won’t kill my motivation again lol. tbh this piece is v much a fun personality piece lol like it legit just full of my type of humor n is full of anime references n yeah lol so im thinking it won’t be a long write like the weekend was!!! also i think u guys will love this jk. he is v relatable and endearing and different from the other jk’s. like he’s not dom n confident like imagine jk. he’s not free n charismatic like practice jk. he’s not cynical and parasitic like the weekend jk. he’s for everyone still struggling to find their footing in relationships, friendships, and just adulthood in general 🤧🥹🤧💗🥹🤧💗 love him dearly lol

[bobfloydsbabe]

I had a moment of true despair earlier this week where I wanted to delete every single fic I’ve ever posted. A moment where I didn’t see myself ever writing again, where I thought my fics wouldn’t be missed. It was awful, but so many of you rallied around me and told me what you love about my stories, my ocs, the relationships and dynamics I portray. I don’t know how to express how much it meant to me. To be embraced by the fandom in a moment of debilitating self-doubt was magical—you made me feel like it was all going to be okay.

To everyone who reached out, both publicly and privately, thank you. It’s not enough but it’s all I have.