#cut the other two people out of the picture for privacy

[fuckyeahorangecassidy]

Oh look, just the GREATEST (non-professional) PICTURE OF OC EVER TAKEN

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

The Return of Superman- Mark

(cw: f!reader called “mama”, a child duh)

Mark had spent a good few decades with a lot of his life documented on cameras. There were music videos, behind the scenes vlogs, cameras, talk shows, selfies, you name it- he did it. There was however, one area of his life that wasn't show or documented for the public. That was you, your marriage, and his son.

There had of course been the announcement on SM's end about Mark being in a relationship, then there was SM the announcement five years later about the two of you being married paired with a post from Mark with a wedding picture of the two of you where your face wasn't seen, and then the last announcement 3 years ago announcing the birth of his son.

Mark completely understood and agreed with your apprehension to show aspects of your life to the public, especially regarding your son. There was the occasional post with you and you can recall the uproar it caused across social media when Mark finally posted your full face on his public account. It was complete madness. People had managed to track down your place of work and even found other pictures of you from your friend's account. You had reason to be apprehensive regarding the privacy of you family.

However, as your son got older, you and Mark got more comfortable sharing more and more about your life, still being mindful of your privacy. So when Mark's managers called and mentioned his own episode on The Return of Superman, you had both discussed it and cautiously agreed with a few conditions. Conditions that were met with no argument since Mark was such a big celebrity to lock in.

--

Mark was sitting in the confessional, the familiar black curtain behind him as he introduced himself to the camera, "uh yeah, hi. My name is Mark Lee, I've been a member of NCT since 2016. My wife and I have been married for almost 9 years and our son is 3 years old."

He pauses as he listens to a producer as a question. He chuckles and shakes his head, "My son and I spend a lot of time together, but loves his mom. I try to take him out for some father and son bonding, but he cries for mom after an hour, when he play together he always involves her. It's great, I obviously love her too, but I think these few days the two of us will be kind of rough."

The scene cuts to the cameras panning over the space of yours and Mark's home as the commentators laugh and predict what they think will happen.

Mark is shown sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly before putting on his glasses and heading for his son's room. You had left the night before for a much needed girl's weekend with friends. You waited until your son was gone, peppering his chubby cheeks with kisses as he slept in his toddler bed before sneaking out of the room and bidding Mark goodbye with his own barrage of kisses and watery eyes. You knew Mark would be fine alone. He was a good dad and his confidence had skyrocketed once his son had grown out of the shaky steps phase.

"Wow, that is such a cool boy room!" One of the commentators marveled as the camera in Mark's son’s room showed the room covered in Spider-man. He had Spider-man sheets, blankets, wall stickers, toys, books- everything.

Mark smiled softly at the sight of his son sprawled across his little bed, still deeply asleep. Mark made his way to the kitchen and began making breakfast. He turned on the rice maker and began cracking eggs into the pan, watching tiredly as they turned from translucent to white.

One commentator cleared her throat, "this is interesting. Isn't it well-known that Mark can't cook eggs? I wonder if he's gotten better or his son likes them?"

The scene shows Mark and his son sitting at the dining table, his son blinking slowly and using both his hands to keep his head up. Mark laughs softly, scooping up a spoonful of rice and fried egg to feed his son. Usually, he'd be able to feed himself but this morning he's just too sleepy and Mark admittedly likes babying him. He is still a baby.

His son tiredly chews, his eyebrows furrowing and his face falling into one of confusion. He opens his eyes fully as he leans away from the next spoonful of food heading for him. "What's that?" his little voice asks as his finger points at the egg.

"It's eggs and rice, bub. Say ah," Mark instructs.

"Mama made it?" his son asks while turning his cheek away from the spoon.

"No, I made it," Mark replies, deciding to instead take the bite of food for himself.

His son scrunches his face up and takes the fried egg from his bowl and places it into Mark's, "yucky, Appa. No thank you!"

Mark tilts his head back with a roll of his eyes as the commentators laugh and compliment his son's good manners despite him calling the egg 'yucky.'

The scene cuts to Mark and his son standing in the entryway of your home, putting on their shoes. As Mark opens the door, his son freezes, "is Mama sick?"

Mark is hesitant to respond, "no, Mama isn't here. Remember it's going to be just me and you until tomorrow night?"

He can hear the familiar catch of his son's breath as he nervously looks up at Mark, "she's ok? She's coming tomorrow?"

Mark feels his heart melt, and the commentators all aww and coo over how cute the 3 year old is. Mark crouches down in front of him, picking him up and hosting him onto his hip, "of course she's coming back. Come on, we're going to go ride bikes at the park and get dinner with uncles later. Does that sound fun?"

His son sniffles and nods, "and ice cream?"

Mark laughs, "yes, and ice cream."

--

The camera crew follows Mark and his son around the park, watching as Mark teaches the boy to pedal and steer the bike. He eventually gets the hang of it and begins riding around on his own with a big smile. His little laughs and giggles fill the air as he zooms in every direction much faster than Mark or any of the cameramen expected, especially the cameraman tasked with following the boy around with his heavy camera.

It's all going well, no tears, no complaints, not even a mention of you, until the tricycle comes to an abrupt stop and turns when it gets too close to the edge of the grass. Mark sprints over the second he sees the tricycle teeter over and makes it to his son before the tears start.

He keeps calm as he looks his son over for any wounds, finding none and immediately being filled with relief. His son must have just gotten scared from the fall. Nonetheless Mark holds him close and rocks him as he cries into Mark's t-shirt.

"I want Mama," his son cries.

"I know buddy, I'm sorry. Does it hurt anywhere?"

His son continues to cry and shakes his head, his sobs turning into sniffles as he calms down. Mark pushes the hair away from his son's forehead and presses a long kiss to the sweaty skin, "you are being so brave, bub. I know it was scary, huh? I am so proud of you."

"And Mama too?" his son asks with watery eyes.

"Yes, and Mama too. You can tell her all about it when she comes home tomorrow. You can tell her that you heal fast like Spider-man."

His son perks up and his eyes brighten, "like Spider-man?"

Mark nods and stands, with his son in one arm and the tricycle in the other, "Oh yeah, big guy. Just like Spider-man, whenever he gets scared he keeps going, right?"

This sets his son off on his little tangent about Spider-man fighting the Green Goblin, then Doc Oc, and how he uses his webs and how the bad guy loses and Spider-man always wins.

The scene cuts to Mark in the confessional, "I really have enjoyed my time on the show, but I may be worse than my son. If you have me back, can she stay too? Please."

[xhoneygirlxx]

Love To See Me From Your POV

rockstar! Eddie Munson x wife! reader

summary: Seeing Eddie on the road for the first time should be an exciting moment but when your insecurities rise, you wonder if this is the life you were cut out for.

warnings: angst. reader is insecure: mentions of self hatred and low self-esteem. Eddie and Reader are both in their twenties! Rockstar Eddie. Eddie does call groupies gross. mentions of rough marriage. Eddie and reader fight! slight cheating accusations. fluff. Eddie is the sweetest husband, reader and Eddie being in love and cute. Smut 18+ Only, Minors DNI!! : mentions of sex with groupies, p in v (unprotected), cream pie, slight breeding kink, slight dom/sub, body worship/praise, oral receiving (reader), fingering, squirting. shit writing and bad grammar. Not proofread!!!!

If I missed any please let me know! *

a/n: Hello my loves, I got a request from @kellyxo1 for this little thingy right here! I hope this is okay and I hope you enjoy! Thank you all again for being so wonderful and lovely to me :) And remember if you ever want to request something, you're more than welcome!

There isn't a booklet on what to do and what not to do when you get married, and there's definitely not a booklet on how to be a rockstar's wife. Married life in itself is a difficult task, but learning the ropes of being married while also dealing with the life of fame was something you or Eddie was prepared for.

Getting married right after Eddie's third senior year was always the plan, two young and dumb freshmen solidifying it with hooked pinkies. Obviously you loved one another more than life itself, but going through the motions of being married at the ripe age of 20 is harder than any fairytale make it out to seem.

It was hard that first year, constantly worried about bills, overtired from working long shifts to pay said bills, and just learning how to live with one another. But in between all the hardships, there were small moments where both of you remembered what it was all about. Eating thirty cent noodles, decorating for holidays, the quiet Sunday mornings where you'd get tangled under bed sheets. The love that both of you hold for one another drowning out every other shitty thing around you.

The second and third year, your whole world flipped upside down. After getting lucky and getting picked up by a big record label, Corroded Coffin was now the hottest new band on the market. You remember the day the boys got signed, how most of them shed a tear of happiness, and how happy your husband looked. A moment in time that was now frozen in a picture that hung on your fridge.

You were so proud of the boys, watching them go from a crowd of seven drunks to recording their own album. There was something so special about being there with your husband for every step, cheering him on from the sidelines every time. When the album finally dropped and the number of sales went up, Eddie surprised you with the keys to the little house on Deer Run Road, the same one that the two of you always fantasied about owning.

Although he worked mostly in LA, he told you he planned on staying in Hawkins where he could still get privacy while being close to the people he loved. You also loved it because you wouldn't have to leave your job at the daycare and your husband would always come home to you.

Now on year four, you were the loneliest you've ever been. Between touring, recording, and everything that comes with being in a band, Eddie has barely home. You can't be mad at him though, he's following his dream all while providing a wonderful life for you. Of course there are nights you'd rather have him in bed with you, reading that old torn copy of Lord of The Rings rather than a phone call, but you're just glad he even has the time and energy to do so.

It was hard for the both of you, many times the two of you cried together, confessing the horrible ache that nestled itself in your hearts. You felt terrible, never being able to visit him because your schedule didn't line up with his. That's when you decided you were going to take a week off, fly to whatever city he was in, and surprise him.

With the help of Steve, who pretty much taught you the in's and out's of flying, and the band's personal assistant, you were able to buy a ticket to New York where CC would be performing their final show. That night when Eddie called you, you were buzzing with excitement and it killed you not being able to tell him.

On the way to Eddie's hotel was nerve racking. What would he think of you? Will he like how you changed your hair? Will he be shocked with how much I changed? You wondered how different he looked since the last time he saw you, the only way you got to see him was through your tv or on a cover of a magazine, and you never know how accurate those things can be.

__

Standing in front of his hotel room was daunting, blood rushing to your ears as your anxiety reached a whole new level. It felt like you never met him before, like he hasn't seen every single part of you or known you since he was a young man. The shakiness of your hands were only getting worse the longer you sat there, you decide it was now or never.

Raising one hand to the peephole, blocking it with your finger so he wouldn't be able to see, you use the other hand to knock on the heavy door.

"Housekeeping!" You disguise your voice the best way you can, making it high pitched and nasally.

Knocking once more, you cringe when you do it harder than before, remembering that he's probably tired from all the travel he's been through.

"Housekeeping!!" Still using the fake voice, trying to soften the blow of your heavy hand you sing the last little bit of the word.

From behind the door you can hear shuffling, yet there was no footsteps heard.

Raising your fist once more, you knock again and this time you can hear him shout something back.

"GO AWAY!" It comes muffled through the door that separates the two of you.

"Good morning, it's housekeeping!!" you cover your mouth with you hand trying to stifle the giggle that fall from your lips, knowing your husband is probably cursing to himself in anger.

Eddie's heavy footsteps and huffing are the only things coming from the room, then the door is being swung open causing the land that was leaning on it to fall dramatically.

In front of you is the man you married, hair messy from sleep, plaid pj pants hanging low on his hips, and bare chest on display. He looked so pretty, rubbing his closed eyes with the palm of his hands, pink lips jutting out in a pout, and puffy cheeks.

"I already told you to go the f-" Cracking one of his eyes open to adjust to the harsh light of the hallway, he finally sees you.

"Baby?" His raspy voice in a whisper, like he's questioning if you're real or not. Tired eyes that were once too heavy to open are now bulging out of his head, cartoonish and wild.

"Hi, Teddy." You whisper back, a saccharine smile breaking out on your face.

The air that once lived in your lungs are quickly punched out the moment he lunges towards you, gripping you up and twirling you around. In the middle of a swanky New York hotel, the two of you hold on each other, squeezing tightly to make sure that neither of you will float away in the clouds of a realistic dream.

"My baby, my beautiful girl," You hear it before you see it, the thickness of his sleepy voice does nothing to hide the shakiness. The tears of mourning you, fall from his eyes hitting the exposed part of your neck where he finds solace.

"I'm here, Teddy. I'm here." The dam you've built to hold back your own tears, has finally busted open. The tears of long nights and a cold bed fall onto his warm skin, the one thing you wished to feel once more.

Moving apart slightly, big brown eyes finally meet your own, taking in the imagine of the people they love the most. Teary eyes and stuffy noses, wobbling lips and heavy breathing, two souls reuniting after too much time away from each other.

Planting his forehead to yours, you bask in the feeling of being close. Eddie's warm lips touch yours, a sweet and tear soaked kiss makes you melt.

"I missed you so much, angel." He confesses, the warmth of his breath mixing with your own.

"I know the feeling." You joke and the both of your share a laugh.

"You know," he whispers, forehead still touching your own, "I want to be mad that I'm up at the ass crack of dawn, but you're such a beautiful sight to be woken up to." A gooey smile spreads on his lips and like a yawn, you mimic his actions.

"So you're not interested in housecleaning services this early in the morning?" You question and he snorts at your bad attempt of a joke.

"Angel, you know me better than that." He says and you roll your eyes.

"Now," Eddie lets you down gently, your feet returning to the carpeted floor. "If you don't mind, I would love nothing more than to fall asleep with the sexiest woman in the world."

Leading you into his room, he proves his point by slapping your ass hard. When you turn around to chastise him, you're met with him biting his bottom lip and his gaze still on your ass.

"Oh yeah, I'm gonna have so much fun with you." The morning rasp in his voice is replaced with a husky, lust soaked hunger.

Tossing you, lovingly, on the bed, Eddie pounces on you like a tiger. Attacking you with kisses, you try to push him off as best as you can, weak from all your laughter.

"Teddy, I still have to shower!" You shout causing him to pause over you. Catching your breath, you run your hand up and down his arm softly. "I still have yucky airport on me."

Eddie leans down and licks your cheek and you wrinkle your nose in disgust. "Oh yeah, that's my favorite flavor."

"You're such a dork." You tell him and he only smiles bigger down at you.

"Yeah but I'm your dork, Mrs. Munson."

__

The morning was spent with discovering each other again, not just physically but emotionally. You update him on the kids at your daycare and new Hawkins drama, while he tells you about the antics the boys have gotten into and all the cool stories from this tour.

You missed it, the simplicity of marriage. Even through all the time spent apart is torture, you still find the beauty in the small moments. Like the thirty cent noodles, you enjoy the peace and comfort of whispers passed back and forth a room that isn't your own.

All the bliss you felt from this morning has now been flushed out, now replaced with the roaring waters of doubt. You watch your husband on stage, singing songs he wrote, like you did way back when. This time the crowd isn't just drunk bar patrons, it's beautiful woman screaming his name.

They're all perfect, tiny bodies and big breasts, full hair and flawless makeup. They're everything you're not, everything you never will be. This was the one part of the job you never read about in your how to guide. This was the one thing you forgot to teach yourself about, how to handle millions of woman fawning over your man.

You weren't naïve of course, you knew that the guys had groupies, but you liked to push that into the back of your mind. You trusted Eddie more than anything, you knew he would never do anything to ruin your marriage, but that wasn't the part that had you so upset.

It was the idea of not being good enough that was eating away at you. Like everyone else in the world, you had insecurities. You went through stages with your self consciousness, earning a few battle wounds to your confidence along the way, but over time you became comfortable in your own skin.

This wasn't Hawkins though, this was the big city, and your "small town pretty" is no good here. All of the woman here could chew you up and spit you out, beating you out by miles in a beauty contest.

Your self hatred starts to write over the happy memory of watching Eddie on the biggest stage you've ever seen. Embarrassment fills your body, numbing you from head to toe. You feel so stupid, the clothes you wear are nothing compared to what they wear, you probably look like a clown in the makeup on your face, and your hair is probably flat and dull now.

This wasn't what you signed up for, this isn't in the job description when you sign on to be a rockstar’s wife. You already have to worry about the safety of not only your husband but the rest of the boys too. You worry about Eddie and if he's eating enough, if he's getting enough sleep, and if he's taking care of himself. There is already so much on your plate and you don't think you can handle worrying about the fact that you're not good enough.

The wave of guilt hits you when you look back over to your husband. His beauty is powerful, sometimes it makes you want to cry how pretty he is, and you know deep down he deserves better. Rockstar Eddie Munson deserves a girl that looks like one of them, not someone like you. It makes bile rise in your throat when you think about how he has to watch his friends pick up women from different cities and he has to sit by himself because his old ball and chain is all the way back in nowhereville.

Having a front row seat of your own demise is too much, deciding it would be better to watch on the monitor in the green room. When you're finally alone, it doesn't get any better. The large mirror that hangs on the wall captures your attention, calling to you like a siren to a fisherman.

Taking a seat, you begin to pick apart every single detail of your face. You criticize the shape of your eyes and where they sit, the length of your nose and how the shape sits weird, and how the pores that sit on your skin are way bigger than you remember.

The loud voice in your head pleads with you, begging you to stop before it's too late. "DON'T RUIN THIS" it screams and the demons that have overtaken your mind push it away, not wanting reason to ruin their demolishing.

When the guys enter the room, you realize you've been staring in the mirror for longer than you intended, almost like you were hypnotized.

"What a great fucking show!" Gareth announces as he grabs a beer from the mini fridge in the corner of the room.

"I agree." Grant says as he plops down on one of the leather sofas, exhaling loudly as the adrenaline crashes through him.

"This crowd was definitely the loudest one we've had." Jeff's voice is louder than he thinks. Clapping his hands together, he signals at Gareth to throw him a beer.

"So, what do you two lovebirds plan on doing now that touring is over?" Grant asks, leaning up from his slumped position to look over at you.

Eddie wipes his neck and face off with a towel, stalking over to you with a blissed out look on his face. Leaning down to you, he places a sloppy kiss on your forehead, removing with a loud 'mwah' sound when he does.

"I planned on taking my girl around the city before we head back home." Eddie is still looking down at you, almost like he's questioning you if it's fine with you.

Returning a fake smile, hoping he doesn't notice it doesn't reach your eyes, you nod your head to let him know you approve. A guttural moan pulls your attention to the brown haired boy over who's now sitting on the opposite couch of Grant and Jeff.

"You two are grossly in love, it actually makes me sick." Gareth rolls his eyes and the roar of chuckles ring out in the room.

"You act like we don't have a line of hot ass babes waiting for us." Jeff laughs and Gareth hums as he swallows the sip of alcohol.

"Very true, Jeff. Very fucking true." The boy laughs in agreement.

You know that their comments hold no malice to you but it stings all the same. All you heard was, "Too bad for Eddie, we get to fuck hot girls while he's left with that." It loops through your head, digging a deeper hole, bringing up every bad thought you've ever thought about yourself in the twenty something years you've been alive.

Everyone continues to talk, laughing and joking like they always do and the only thing you can do is get lost inside the storm that tears through your body. The feeling of Eddie's fingers dragging along the skin on the back of your neck has long been forgotten. The voices have all gone muffled, your own demons speaking loudly over them to even try to understand what they're talking about.

"Angel?" Eddie calls and it brings you out of the darkness of your brain.

You hum, craning your neck up to look at him. He's breathtaking, you think, even in the horrible lighting of this dressing room he looks perfect and it crushes you even more.

"You 'kay? Haven't really said much." He says, only loud enough for you to hear, not wanting to bring unwanted attention.

"M'fine, just kind of tired." You shrug. Flashing those pretty teeth at you, he smiles and it makes you sick with love.

"I'm sorry, Angel. I know I didn't give you much time to recover from the flight... and other things." He jokes, wiggling his eyebrows, earning him a light shove from you.

Leaning down once more, he captures your lips in a loving kiss and a small portion of the tension in your body fades.

"See, I told you! Sickening!" Gareth shouts, his arm stretched out and hand face up, directing everyone's eyes to the two of you.

Bashfully, you shove your face into Eddie's stomach to hide. Draping his one arm on your back, he twists his body slightly to look at the others.

"Gareth, you're clearly jealous I get to kiss my smokin' hot wife." Eddie shouts, and a collection of groans fill the room.

If only you could believe the nice words your husband said.

__

That night in the hotel room, you tell Eddie you're simply too tired to partake in any sexual acts, which he doesn't protest. Laying in the comfort of his strong arms arms, the thoughts are too loud to melt away to sleep. You wonder what Eddie dreams of as you lay awake, if he ever regrets marrying you, and if he wishes he could partake in the same things as the guys. You cry softly, tears pooling on the fabric of your pillow, praying to whoever to is listening to make it better.

The next morning, Eddie is like the energizer bunny when he wakes you up from your four hour sleep. Going to the local diner down the street, Eddie talks about how fun the show was, moving his hands dramatically as he retells you every detail. You try to look interested, smiling and laughing when needed but truthfully you aren't paying attention, you don't even chastise him when he speaks with a mouth full of food.

Afterwards, he shows you around the city and all the sights it offers. It pains you that you can't even enjoy it, too focused on everyone else around you, comparing yourself to every woman that walks past.

Eddie notices, he's noticed since last night but he didn't say anything. At first he genuinely thought you were tired since you never really traveled before, but when you sat across from him at the diner and poked at the food on your plate, he knew. Despite what a lot of people thought, Eddie wasn't stupid. There are many things he had knowledge on and his best subject was you.

He didn't know what was particularly bothering you but he knew all too well. You were in your head about something, beating yourself up about something that wasn't worth the fight, but he knew you could make it out. You always did.

The problem was you didn't fight out of this one. You stayed locked away in the torture chamber that was your mind and let the problem eat you alive. Eddie did everything you always talked about doing, showing you the places you dreamed about and you still didn't crack.

When you returned back to the hotel room, it was oddly quiet. Even Eddie who never stopped talking, was scarily silent. Sitting down on the bed, you started to talk off your shoes, working at the laces slowly.

Eddie stands in the doorway, leaning his body weight on the wall for support. His gaze burns into you, uncomfortably so and you're terrified to even look back at him.

"So are you going to tell me what's wrong?" His tone is serious and it terrifies you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you meet his gaze. His arms are crossed over his chest and his features are harsh, waiting for an answer.

"I told you, I'm tired." You lie right through your teeth and like a metal detector he catches it, scoffing loudly and shaking his head.

"I need you to cut the shit, Angel. What is wrong?" He questions again and it ignites a fire within you.

"I told you, I'm fucking tired Eddie. Sorry I'm not you, I don't travel the world for a living." You snap at him.

"Are you- What the fuck did I do?" He argues back and you sigh heavily. This isn't how you wanted it to go but all the emotion from the past four years are coming out in knife like jabs.

"What the fuck did I do," You mock him. "What did you do? I'll tell you what the fuck you did. You left me, you fucking left me. Don't worry Eds, I'm happy for you, trust me. I love knowing that I'm the old ball and chain back home that keeps you from fucking groupies. But it's fine if you look, just not touch, right?"

When you're done you feel worse than before. Eddie stares at you, frown pulling on his lips and big glossy eyes that stare back at you. God, you want to kick yourself for making him feel like shit. This all could've been prevented if you just talked to him, let him in on what was happening but no, the demons won and they shot Eddie down while doing it. The worst part is, you pulled the trigger.

"Is that what you think?" His voice is small, something you've never heard from him and it breaks your heart.

"Fuck- I didn't mean that. I just-" Closing your eyes, you try to compose yourself but it doesn't work. "I just miss you so fucking much. Last night I couldn't even enjoy the show because all the tits that were on display in the front row distracted me. All I could think was 'how could he want me when all of these beautiful woman are better than me?'"

"So instead of watching the end of the show, I sat in front of the mirror and made a list of every ugly thing about me. My body, my face, my voice, every fucking thing about me is horrendous. Then when the guys mentioned fucking groupies, I felt so guilty 'cause while they're out havin fun, you have to sit there all alone because I'm all the way in Hawkins."

It all comes out like word vomit, laying on the floor of the hotel room, filling the room with the stench. Your ugly truths are now out there, you're so fucking vulnerable and all you want to do is hide.

"Are you dumb?" Eddie's voice brings you out of your pity party. Staring at him in shock, you can see his own tears staining his face.

"Do you realize that it kills me not being with you? Every city we go to, all I can think about is you and how much I want to take you there. Those girls you're talking about, the ones the guys screw around with? Yeah, I've seen them and let me tell you, they're gross." Stalking the short distance, he takes a seat right next to you on the bed.

"Do I get jealous because they get to have sex? Absolutely. It's not 'cause of the girls they bring home, it's cause I wish it were you. So many nights I laid awake, jerking off to the thought of you and it was way better than any fucking groupie could do for me." You snort at his admission, rolling your eyes still not believing. Grabbing your chin, he pulls your attention up to him.

"I'm so fucking serious, Angel. I'm so in love with you, it's maddening. Sometimes when I call you, I can't help but blush like I'm back in the ninth grade again. It blows my mind every single day that I got to marry the gorgeous girl from Click's class." His words are like warm butter, melting over you and seeping into your skin.

"Do you really mean that?" It's meek and unsure, like you're scared of what the answer could be.

"Cross my heart." He simply says, marking an 'X' over his heart with the tip of his finger.

Sniffling loudly, you wipe away the tears that roll down your cheeks. "I'm sorry, Teddy." You say and he hums, resting his forehead on your just like he did twenty four hours before.

"It's okay, baby. Trust me, I feel the same way sometimes." Furrowing your eyebrows at him, he laughs at the scowl on your face.

"Not like that, baby. I just mean, I get scared one of those hot dads are gonna try to pull a move on you when they drop their kid off." Between the serious look on his face and the honesty in his voice, you can't help but cackle.

"Eddie, who exactly would pull a move? Mr. Gardner? He's like forty and wears a very bad toupee." Eddie tries to cover the snort that comes out with a fake a cough.

"Hey, maybe you're into that kind of thing." He simply shrugs and you roll your eyes.

Settling into a comfortable silence, Eddie kisses you lightly and you pout when he pulls away.

"Can I show you how much I love you?" Your eyes scan his face for a moment before nodding.

"Please." That's all he needs to hear before he's placing you on your back, your head being cradled by the soft cotton pillows.

Eddie starts by kissing you, sweet and slow, reminiscent to the time you and him lost your virginities. The only difference about this time is he knows what he’s doing, confident in the way he glides his tongue against yours.

Moving his attention along your jawline, he places small lingering pecks down your neck. His hand moves down the sides of your body, finding purchase on the bottom of your shirt where he tugs softly on the material. Getting the hint, you sit up and help him pull the garment over your head, your bra is quick to follow.

Laying you back down on the soft cotton of the pillows, he continues his journey down your body. Soft lips leaving prints of love along your collarbones and down your sternum, invisible prints of love collect on your skin where they burn bright and settle into your bones.

“My sweet girl.” He trails more kisses around the doughy flesh of your breast.

Finding the hardened nipple, he swirls his tongue around it before pulling it into his mouth, lightly sucking on it before pulling off with a pop.

“My beautiful girl.” Moving his attention to the other breast, he repeats the same motions from before.

Moving down your tummy, he continues to map out his journey, leaving lingering tattoos onto your skin. Finally making it to his destination, he toys with the waistband of your jeans, popping the button open and pulling the zipper down.

Lifting your hips, you assist him in taking of the restrictive clothing. In one swift action, he rips off the jeans and panties that once covered you. Feeling exposed and shy, you whimper up at him to get his attention.

“What’s wrong, princess?” His tone is concerned and it makes you pout even more.

Wordlessly, you reach your hand down to grab the hem of his shirt where you yank gently. Catching your drift, Eddie pulls it over his head and let’s it fall to the ground where the rest of your close reside.

“You were feelin’ shy, huh?” You nod at his question and he leans up to press his lips to the tip of your nose. “Gotta make sure my girl is comfy.”

Shuffling himself onto his tummy, he places your legs over his shoulders so he can be face to face with your glistening sex.

Kissing the inside of both of your thighs, you squirm trying to move him to the one place you need him most. Tsking loudly, he looks up at you with a correcting gaze.

“Be patient,” he scolds and you listen, biting back your fussing and fidgeting.

A deft finger runs up your slit, moving your slick around as it does. “This pretty cunt is so miserable, huh? She’s sad without me there to make her feel better.”

Taking two of his fingers, Eddie spreads you open to exposing your core causing you to hiss when the cold air hits you.

A swift lick of his tongue hits you like a bullet train, all at once it’s too much but not enough. A sob leaves your throat when he stops, glassy eyes meeting the dark one of your husbands, pleading with him for more.

“You know,” While the pad of his thumb over your aching clit, he continues to keep eye contact with you, “I don’t like when you talk badly about my wife.”

“The strong, smart, loving, and breathtaking woman I married,” He continues his ministrations, not using his other hand to trace around your hole, “Doesn’t deserve to be talked badly about.”

He continues teasing you, not inserting his fingers into your clenching hole and not giving your bundle of nerves enough pressure. He’s making you sweat it out and you think you might die.

He coos sweetly at you, faux pity on his features as he does. “I know, honey. S’it hurt? Want me to make you feel better?”

“Please, Teddy. Please please please.” Your begging falls on deaf ears though, Eddie just continues his evil plan of torture.

“I’ll make it better,” Putting his mouth close to your cunt, you can feel his warm breath and you shy in relief. Moving away quickly, he looks back up at you and you fight the urge to yell at him. “But first, I want you to say you’re beautiful.”

“Wha- Eddie, no! Just fucking- God, just eat me out already!” You yell and he mocks you by laughing.

“Baby, I can leave you high and dry and be perfectly fine. So unless you want to get yourself off, I suggest you do what I say.” Although you know Eddie would never make you take care of yourself, his threat hits you like a lightning strike. His cool demeanor and stoic tone makes you believe every word he said.

“I’m beautiful.” It comes out in a whisper, so low he barely catches it.

“Nuh-uh, say it louder.” Eddie corrects you and the buzzing feeling over embarrassment burns your cheeks.

“I’m beautiful.” This time it’s louder but you don’t sound convincing.

“I want you to believe it. Want you to be nice to my wife.”

Something about the words being said to you makes your heart beam. All of Eddie’s statements to you have been chipping away at the guarded walls of your mind, casting light on the darkness that overshadows it. You start to believe him, you start to let the positive and loving words bring you out of the insecurities that plague your thoughts.

“I’m beautiful.”

You say it at the same volume but this time something in your eyes let’s Eddie know you believe the words you say. The glimmer of light that disappeared 24 hours ago, has finally returned to its rightful spot.

“There’s my girl.” Dimples flash at you before he dives right into you.

Eddie’s tongue replaces his thumb, adding more pressure to the pulsating spot. The finger that once teased you, is not fully seated in you, curled just right while it pumps in and out of you.

He’s not doing much, basically just warming you up for what’s to come, but something about it lights you on fire. The adoration Eddie has for you is being poured into your heart, lighting your body in a glow that he only manages to bring out of you.

Your moans grow louder when Eddie starts sucking on your clit, another finger shoved inside of you moving in and out in a faster speed than before.

You arch off of the bed like you’ve been possessed, whimpering and withering around making Eddie use his unoccupied hand to push you back down.

“Shit, you’re s’tight.” Eddie’s voice comes out slurred, drunk off of the taste of you.

“You gettin’ close? You gonna cum for me, Angel?” You don’t have the energy to answer, too lost in the feeling of your stomach tightening.

Slowing down the speed of his fingers, you huff in aggravation. Eddie’s voice pulls you back down to reality, your bliss slowly starting to fade away.

“I’ll let you cum if you say you’re perfect.” Lifting up on your elbows, you look down to see him already staring at you.

“Eddie I’m not-“ You’re immediately cut off by him, his tone more commanding than before.

“Say it, or you won’t cum at all. I just want to hear you say it.” He begs, his pace starting to quicken and his thumb now going in figure 8’s on your clit.

You’re quickly hurdled back to the euphoria you were just pulled out of. Eyes rolling around in your head, whining as the string in your stomach pulls tighter.

“I’m, shit- M’perfect. Your perfect wife.” You’re a blabbering mess, head thrashing back and forth in ecstasy.

“I’m gonna cum. Teddy, please!” You beg and he gives you exactly what you want.

“Go ‘head, Angel, let go f’me.” With one last stroke on that sweet spot, you’re catapulted into the paradise of your release.

It feels like you’re floating above the clouds, weightless and free. You don’t feel the gush that splashes your thighs or the sheets, and the voice of your husband is nothing but an angelic voice ringing out.

You return back down to the soft mattress, boneless and melting into the bed. When your breathing calms and you finally have the strength to open your eyes, you’re met with a Cheshire Cat like smile and the soaking face of your husband.

“You did such a good job for me baby,” Kissing you sweetly, you can taste yourself on his lips. Pulling away slowly, you bring your arm to his pants, rubbing your palm along the outline of his hard cock.

Shaking his head, he gently grabs your wrist and puts it above your head. “This is about you, Angel. Wanna make you feel good.”

A quiet okay leaves your lips and he continues to work himself out of his pants, letting his dick bounce out of its confides. Saliva pools in your mouth, the desire to taste him takes over and you whimper.

Chuckling at your pouty face, he moves back between your legs that you parted for him. When he runs the tip of his aching cock through your folds, you both hiss on contact.

Lining himself up, Eddie brings his hand to your hip where he rubs his thumb in soothing circles. Both of you moan in unison when he finally breaches your entrance, a feeling neither of you have gotten used to.

Pushing himself further into you, he takes his time to let you adjust to his size, something you still haven’t gotten used to. He stretches you out so nicely, filling you up like nothing else you’ve ever felt. Nothing can compare to him, every bump and ridge of his cock making it even better.

Lacing his fingers into yours, he hovers over you as he starts thrusting slowly into you. A choir of moans are made between the two of you, singing a song better than anything Eddie’s ever written.

With the way your legs are wrapped around his waist, you try to push him in deeper, wanting to stay this close with him forever. This isn’t just about fucking or getting off, this is about the man you fell in love with all those years ago and how he’s appreciating you. He’s trying to show you just how much his heart yearns for you.

“So good, so fuckin’ good for me.” Eddie pants heavily as he thrusts the tip of his cock ramming into your cervix just right.

“Always so good f’me, Angel. You take such good care of me, such a good wife for me.” He’s babbling at this point, reaching the tipping point faster than he thought.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, all you can think about is how much love you love each other, how good he’s making you feel, and how he was able to pull you out of the darkness of your horrible thought.

Removing his hand from yours, he snakes it down your body to find you abandoned clit. With the added pleasure, you clench harder around him and the air in your lungs seeps out in a high pitched gasp.

“I can’t wait to fuck my load into you, baby. Gonna get you nice n’ round, show everyone you’re mine. You want that? Want me to fuck a baby in you?” His voice echoes in your ears and travels down into the pit of your belly, getting you closer to the edge.

“I wan’ it, s-so bad, Teddy. Wanna feel it.” You’re babbling, toes curling at you tippy toe over the line of your orgasm.

“F-fuck you sound so pretty when you beg. Come on, Angel, cum for me.”

And just like that, both of you unravel together. Him painting your walls in his release, while you guys around him. Eddie works both of you through your highs, thrusting sloppy and lazily into you until he can’t anymore.

Eddie doesn’t pull out of you right away, not wanting to let go of the feeling so soon. He lays on your chest, trying to settle his breathing as best as he can. Bringing a hand to the top of his head, you rake your nails softly into his hair.

Humming in delight, Eddie kisses your chest as a thank you. A small blip of time in a long year, the kind that makes the bad days all worth it. The secrets whispered in hotels and lingering trail that still burns on your skin, invisible kiss marks left for reminders.

It’s worth it, all the hardships and long months, when you know he’ll always find his way back to you. The sweet boy from 9th grade that promised his heart to you, now sings his undying love to you for thousands of crowds to hear.

More tears leave your eyes, not in sadness but in pure happiness. You’re so fucking in love with him and sickeningly so, just like Gareth said.

Swiveling his head up to you, Eddie rests his chin lightly on your chest.

“Hi.” He says meekly.

Eddie doesn’t question your tears because he has tears of his own and he knows they’re for the same reason.

“Hi.” You parrot back to him, a wet smile adorning your lips.

“Do you believe me now?” Sweet brown eyes pulls you in, sucking you in as they stare at you.

“Yeah, I do.” You reassure and he smiles.

Using his free hand, Eddie takes his finger to trace shapes over your heart. You melt when you feel him draw a heart with your initials and his on the inside.

“I wanted to tell you,” He flits his eyes down to his finger where it doodles on your skin, “the guys and I have a break now that tours over. So I was thinking..”

A pregnant pause settles between his statement and he makes no moves to finish it. It reminds you of the first time he asked you on a date, nervous and fidgety.

“What is it, Teddy?” Lifting his chin with your fingers, you raise an eyebrow to coax him into answering.

“I was thinkin’ maybe we could try, ya know, for a family or somethin’. “ Eddie’s cheeks and the tips of his ears are coated in a pink blush.

Your heart picks up and you know that Eddie can feel it under his finger. Smiling with all your teeth, you cheeks ache from the stretch.

“You wanna have kids with me?” Your voice is only a whisper and he giggles at you.

“Well I don’t know if you noticed but, I just blew my whole load inside of you.” The bluntness of his statement makes your cheeks burn. Slapping your hands over your face, you cover yourself from the embarrassment

“Hey, don’t need to get all shy on me now,” Pulling your hands away from your face, he smiles smugly at you. “If I recall correctly you were the one all like “yes Teddy ugh please!!”.” Eddie mocks you and you roll your eyes.

“Bye the way, I’ve been counting every eye roll since you got here and I promise your in trouble when we get home.” He points and accusatory finger at you causing you to clench around him.

“I love you, Teddy. Thank you.” You place a kiss to his lips and he smiles brightly at you.

“Don’t need to thank me, baby. I’m glad I’m here to remind you.” Pecking your lips once more, he pulls a way with an even bigger smile.

“Also, I love you too, Mrs. Munson.”

-

-

-

-

[taeyongdoyoung]

intro (infected)

summary: your attempts to find out the identity of your stalker lead you right where you least except... characters: reader, heeseung, sunoo and sunghoon genre: thriller, dark romance(-ish) warnings: themes of stalking, non-consensual photography, blood-covered dolls, stealing clothes, invasion of privacy, breaking in, toxic characters, betrayal, knife, drugging, kidnapping, etc. please PLEASE read at your own risk author's note: the title is inspired by this amazing song and the story itself is strongly influenced by my dreams and insta/tiktok edits of enha lmao; also this is the first part in a trilogy part two & part three word count: 2.3k

You feel like you're losing your goddamn mind. The last month has been the worst of your life. You literally dread coming home to another one of your stalker's "surprises". Sometimes it's photos of you taken from afar. Sometimes you return to your apartment only to find clothes of yours missing. Sometimes you receive little "gifts". Like creepy dolls covered in blood. So sweet.

Why haven't you called the police, one may ask? Well, you've heard of similar cases and the truth is, the police never take women's complaints seriously. They always make up some bullshit excuse about there not being enough proof. Or they try to make it seem as if the woman was somehow "asking for it" by leading some guy on or whatever.

So, you're stuck in this situation, being horrified of returning to your home every fucking evening. You can't afford to move out right now so, there goes nothing. However, you honestly don't imagine continuing to put up with this any longer. Therefore, you decide to take some action.

There are only two people other than you who have a key to your place. Thus, there are only two suspects you can think of.

Suspect number one. Your loving, doting, precious boyfriend Heeseung. You cannot possibly imagine him doing something so vile. Plus, he already has you. There would be no motive for him to stalk you and send you weird stuff and steal your clothes. True, he can be kinda possessive sometimes but nothing that would raise any red flags. He cannot be your stalker, you are pretty much convinced.

Suspect number two. Your adorable, sweet, younger best friend Sunoo. Once again, you cannot picture him being behind this. And yet...sometimes he has this resting psycho face clouding his usually adorable features. You don't wanna judge him hastily and without any proof. But sometimes he looks kinda dangerous. You know it's not his fault, he was just born like that. You have to investigate somehow and get to the bottom of this.

So, like the fool you are, you share your concerns with suspect number one.

"I have a stalker," you admit to your boyfriend one afternoon while you're watching a movie on the couch.

"What?!" Heeseung exclaims in shock.

Okay, his reaction seems surprised enough. There's no way he's acting.

"For the past month I've been receiving pictures of myself, as well as some creepy dolls covered in blood. Oh, and some of my clothes have gone missing."

"That's crazy! Why haven't you reported it to the police yet?" Heeseung asks, holding your hand, deeply worried about your well-being.

"Ugh, as if the police will do anything to take my case seriously. I'll figure it out myself. Well, with your help, hopefully."

"Of course, anything you need, I'm here for you," Heeseung promises.

"So, actually, you're suspect number one," you chuckle, not at all concerned Heeseung is behind this. He cannot be.

"I am?" he laughs. "Darling, I hope you know I would never-"

"I know," you cut him off with a trusting smile. "But you're one of the two people, other than me, who has a key to my place. And there was no sign of a broken door or window, so, whoever it is, obviously owns a key."

"Who's the other suspect, then?"

"Sunoo," you confess.

"Sunoo?!" Heeseung can't help but laugh again. "There's no way. He's a total angel. I just can't see it."

"Yeah? I lowkey see it, he has this creepy face every once in a while. He could totally pull this off," you reason.

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna confront him. Judging by his reactions, I'll be able to determine if it's him."

"Do you want me to come with you?" Heeseung immediately offers.

"Nah, that might intimidate him and he may not be as honest as I'd like him to be. Don't worry, we'll meet in a public space, just in case."

"Uhh, I'm not sure if you feel better but sure. Call me rightaway if you need help."

"I will, I promise," you smile fondly and kiss your boyfriend on the cheek.

The following day, you are sitting in a café with your best friend Sunoo, sharing mint choco ice cream that is a favourite of you both.

"So, I have a confession to make," you blurt out, mouth still full. "I have a stalker."

"Oh my God!" Sunoo exclaims dramatically.

"Yeah...I keep receiving weird objects and photos of myself. Also, some of my stuff have gone missing in the past month."

"The hell?! That sounds terrifying, why haven't you contacted-"

"The police?" you snicker coldly. "They won't help me, I'm on my own."

"Well, you've got me!" Sunoo replies enthusiastically.

"That's funny, because you're one of my suspects."

"Me?" Sunoo pouts adorably. "Y/Nnie...I wouldn't do something like that to you."

"I'd really like to believe that, Sunnie, but you kinda scare me sometimes, not gonna lie."

"Hey! It's not my fault my face does that thing when I'm not smiling. I promise I'm not your stalker!" he gets a little too passionate in convincing you.

"To be honest, I don't really think it's you."

"Who's your other suspect, then?"

"Heeseung," you shrug. "He's the only other person who has a key to my place."

"It's not him," Sunoo responds confidently.

"That's exactly what he said about you!" you cry out.

"Why are you not suspecting him, though?" Sunoo eyes you suspiciously.

"Well, if it was him, he would be quick to place the blame on someone else, you, for example. Therefore, it cannot be him."

"Ooor, he's only defending me to mislead you into thinking he's the good guy."

"I'm not sure that's the case," you shrug it off.

"Okay, then, are you confident we are the only two people who can access your place so easily?"

You try to think deeper about it. And suddenly it hits you. There was one other person who used to have a key to your place. But he gave it back. A week after you broke up with him for punching your friend (at the time) Heeseung for "staring at you" and "flirting" all the time. A week would have given him plenty of time to make a copy of said key.

"Sunghoon used to have a key to my place," you say out loud.

"Your ex?" Sunoo's eyes widen in shock.

"But he gave it back...a week after we broke up."

"He could have made a spare, that's really easy nowadays."

You nod in agreement.

"What are you going to do? Now that you have your primary suspect?" Sunoo asks.

"I'm not going to sleep. One of these nights he'll show up and I'll be ready to confront him."

"That sounds dangerous. Wouldn't you feel better if Heeseung and I were there with you?" Sunoo suggests warmly.

You shake your head.

"I have you guys on speed dial. If something bad happens, I'll call you rightaway."

"You have us on speed dial and yet we were your two suspects. The loyalty is dead," Sunoo tsks disapprovingly.

"Hey! It's not my fault you'd make a good psycho character in a kdrama," you try to joke to alleviate the tension.

"Damn right, I would."

Three nights later and you've drunk more coffee than is probably normal. You're so stoked there's no way you'll fall asleep. But you are tucked under the covers on the couch, pretending to be sleeping. Honestly, it'd be kinda disappointing if no one shows up. You must be crazy. Are you seriously looking forward to confronting your stalker, whoever he is? It's probably Sunghoon. You'd be pretty shocked if it was Sunoo or God forbid, Heeseung. You love them too much to expect something so creepy coming from them.

After what feels like forever, you finally hear it. The sound of the front door being unlocked. Slowly, almost impossible to notice. You curse yourself for being such a heavy sleeper. If you had been awake some of the previous nights, you would have caught him sooner. You wouldn't have had to put up with this for an entire month.

Your heart is beating so rapidly you feel like you're going to die any moment now. In retrospect, this probably wasn't the greatest idea. You probably should have notified the police just in case. Oh well, it's too late now.

Steps. Approaching. Slowly. Then, faster. Fuck. He's not gonna...Is he? The sheets you're hidden under are removed in one swift movement. He is.

"Miss me, princess?" Sunghoon asks, his voice as velvety as you remember.

You can't find the strength to say anything, let alone scream. You were right! It was Sunghoon all along!

"Missed me so bad you waited for me on the couch?" he teases you, running a gloved hand down your cheek.

Sooo far from the truth. You just wanted to know who was tormenting you. You didn't miss him at all. All he ever did was bitch about you spending too much time with Heeseung. He was a jealous, insecure wreck and all of that somehow manifested into the current predicament you found yourself in.

"Nah, just wanted to see who's been leaving me all these presents," you try to keep your composure.

"I'm surprised it took you so long to figure it out," Sunghoon chuckles darkly. "I thought you were smarter than that. Did you seriously think that dork Heeseung would be capable of something so wicked?"

"That dork is a much better person than you are," you spit out. Okay, probably not the best idea to confront him right now. Stupid Y/N...

"Hmm, is that why you cheated on me with him?" Sunghoon sighs wistfully.

"I never cheated on you, I started dating Heeseung three months after our breakup."

"Three months. Couldn't even wait a year. You're so cruel," Sunghoon pouts and sits next to you on the couch, making himself at home.

"I'm not the cruel one, terrifying my ex-girlfriend. Move on, Sunghoon. I have."

"Have you? Then, why haven't you thrown away the little gifts I gave you?"

How did he know they're safely tucked away underneath your bed? How many times has he been here without your knowledge?

"As evidence," you reply dumbly.

"Evidence you don't plan to submit," Sunghoon teases you.

"I will submit it if you don't stop."

"Why are you even giving me a chance? Obviously, you haven't moved on. Obviously, you wanted to see me again, didn't you?" Sunghoon caresses your cheek and you want to push him away, you really do. But it feels so nice, the coldness sending chills down your spine. Maybe you're just as sick as him.

"Obviously, you are delusional," you roll your eyes. You just have to keep talking to distract him.

You remind yourself that your hand is stuffed in your pocket, clutching your phone tightly. You could easily call Heeseung or Sunoo without Sunghoon noticing. They could be here in minutes as they live nearby. The question is who to call? If you call Heeseung whom Sunghoon is so jealous of, you are afraid that Sunghoon might be carrying some kind of weapon and Heeseung might get hurt. You are fairly certain that Sunghoon wouldn't hurt you physically but you are worried about your boyfriend.

Sunoo, on the other hand...Though he doesn't look physically threatening, him showing up might be a better idea. His angelic demeanour may lead to a diplomatic dialogue. Besides, Sunghoon's always had a soft spot for Sunoo. He wouldn't hurt him, right? So, without thinking too much into it, you call him.

"Am I though?" Sunghoon tilts his head to the side in a way you used to adore. Fuck. "Admit it, if I wanted to really hurt you, I would have. And if you wanted me out of your life, you would have filed for a restraining order or something. Since neither of us did any of those things, that means there's still a chance you crave me in your life, isn't there?"

"You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m going back to you."

Sunghoon grits his teeth angrily, but doesn’t say anything. You really should stop saying things that will make him mad but then again, your biggest flaw has always been excessive honesty. When you broke up with Sunghoon, you were explicitly clear why his behaviour was making you upset and that his jealousy was in the core of it all. At the time, you really viewed Heeseung only in friendly light so Sunghoon’s anger towards him appeared unfounded. Now, however…you were, in fact, dating Heeseung. So, clearly, Sunghoon would believe he’d been worried for a reason.

"Oh, princess, what makes you think you have a choice?"

Moments later, your strained conversation is interrupted by Sunoo who just lets himself in as Sunghoon conveniently left the door wide open.

"Sunoo, thank God, you’re here!" you exclaim even though you are perfectly aware that Sunoo wouldn’t be able to defeat Sunghoon in a physical fight. You just hope that his precious smile is enough of a weapon to get Sunghoon to leave you alone.

"Hi, sunshine," Sunghoon greets him calmly as if his arrival comes as no surprise. Wait a second…

"Hey, hyung," Sunoo responds and instead of being comforted by his appearance, you feel sudden dread upon seeing his angelic features slowly transforming into psychotic ones.

"Since when were you two so friendly?" you try to rack your brain. Back when you were dating Sunghoon, you never noticed anything. Did Sunoo like him?

"Since we share a common goal," Sunoo smiles softly at you, making you even more creeped out, as he pulls a blade from his pocket. What the fuck?!

"Aww, Sun, don’t scare her just yet," Sunghoon scolds the younger man gently. "We’ll have plenty of time to play with her later."

Sunoo is working together with Sunghoon?!?!

You try to make a run for it but you’re too slow so Sunghoon and Sunoo capture you quickly. Sunghoon’s holding you strongly from behind, while Sunoo is caressing your neck with the blade, not drawing blood, just messing with your head.

"Are you gonna be a good girl or do we have to drug you?" Sunoo asks sweetly.

You struggle against them but it is of no use. They’re too powerful and you were too foolish.

"Bad girl, it is," Sunghoon answers coldly and presses a piece of clothing against your mouth and nose, making you feel dizzy and sleepy. Fuck.

You really should have called Heeseung.

To be continued…

[xan-izme]

Double Life (ATSV x Reader x Batfam)

Part 2

Summary: Reader has been spider woman for two years. Also working in the Spider Society for five months now. After reader suffers a canon event and losses trust in Miguel, reader has to leave New York and live in Gotham where her biological father resides.

You were in pain, holding a bus with over 26 passengers in it with one web and your mother hanging from a fall that could end terribly.

Spider woman was trying to save both the passengers and preventing the woman from falling. But that woman was your mother, she knew of your true identity, she helped you become spider woman. And like any mother, she can see right through you.

Your mother sees that you can't do this. So, she made the hard choice for you.

And cut herself off from your web so you could save the multiple lives on that bus.

You watched the cars pass by, fiddling with the jewelry on your wrist. After finding out that Miguel had knew all along of your canon events. He knew and never told you.

You quit the Spider society and had to leave New York to live with your biological father, a man who didn't know of your existence till recently. And it was none other than Bruce Wayne himself.

You wish you were able to stay with your uncle or your aunt. But it was against the law, it couldn't be helped. Your uncle promised he would take care of New York for you.

Spider-Woman was now out of the picture.

"Miss Y/n, we are here." A man named Alfred, was the one who spoke. He was the butler of the family. You gave him a nod and got out of the limo and went to the back of the truck.

"it's alright, I can carry them." You were able to grab your bags before Alfred could. It was just your backpack.

The mansion was big. It looked like a damn museum to you. You were hesitant to walk up the stairs to the door. Feeling a little nervous, your meeting people you aren't familiar with yet. On top of that, you're still trying to get used to the weather.

You adjusted your bag and walked up the stairs.

You were planning in your head how to playthings out. You did some background checks on the Waynes. Bruce Wayne adopted multiple boys; none took his last name. One boy who was of 12-13 years of age was blood related the Bruce, taken in by Bruce not too long ago.

You doubt you'll meet Bruce soon, due to his image as a busy playboy. So, you assume he isn't home at the moment, it's the weekend so the youngest by, Damian should be home, unless he is doing some extra activities.

Once you got into the manor, Alfred led you upstairs to a room that was now yours. All of your boxes were already in. You walked around the room, observing the place to try and get familiar with it.

"Master Bruce would like to see you down in his office in an hour." Alfred explained. You paused and looked to the elderly man.

"Oh, he's here?" That was a shock to you. You thought he would be out of town, guess not. "Yes." Alfred bluntly replied and continued to explain the some of the family members would arrive for dinner to meet you.

You gave him a forced smile and turned away so you could frown. Because you were so ready to be alone for the day, just for you to have to meet the whole damn family. Alfred left you to unpack.

You started to the boxes from the floor. Nothing was loose, you checked under the bed, the same thing. Causing you to move to the bathroom. You were actually stoked you had your own bathroom, more privacy.

You searched for any lose tiles, you opened the mirror cabinet. You could make a stash from the behind of the inside.

After an hour had passed, you left the room and slowly made your way downstairs. Taking in the paintings on the wall, the smells. You could feel your Spidey senses going off just a little bit. It wasn't too alarming; the feeling was just a bit faint.

You convinced yourself that you have gotten a little too paranoid. After everything that happened, you needed to get used to this new life.

"Hello? Mr. Wayne?" You spoke as you entered the room, knocking on the door frame, just in case he couldn't hear you loud enough.

Bruce was quick to stand from his couch and approached you with a smile. "Y/n, it's great to finally meet you." You held your hand out, he stared down at it for a quick second and shook your hand firmly.

"Same here sir." You smiled back at him. Bruce chuckled "You don't have to be so formal with me, Bruce is perfectly fine." You gave out a low, nervous laugh and nodded. Bruce led you to the couches, Alfred left the room to get you and Bruce some refreshments.

"I saw your academic scores from your last school. You went to a privet school in Brooklyn, yes? Top in all classes. Very impressive." Bruce was striking up some small conversation. You nod and wait till it was time for you to talk.

Alfred came in and gave you and Bruce your drinks. You took in the smell of the coffee you were given. You took a sip and continued to listen to Bruce. "There is a privet school where my youngest son attends, Damian. Once everything is sorted out, that is where you will be attending school."

"You mean West-Reeve? I-I assumed that school was for middle schoolers?" You questioned. "West-Reeve contains grades 6-12. Was there another school you had in mind?"

Bruce was hopping you would say no. He needs to keep a close eye on you. You're just a normal citizen who needs to be protected if anything to his vigilante life gets entangled with you in any way. So, putting you in the same school as Damian who would have eyes on you inside the school.

You had taken a moment to think about it. You didn't want to be in the same school as Damian. No hate to the kid, you just didn't want to see any of the other Wayne members elsewhere then in the manor. But you didn't want to push it, you are grateful enough Bruce as come to see you and talk to you in person to try and get you conferrable with your new living conditions.

"No sir, thank you."

Bruce sweat dropped at you still addressing him as 'sir'.

The two of you spoke a little longer before you left to head back to your room. Once you got there, the door was open. You frown, not remembering it being left open.

You then see a boy standing in the middle of your room. You realized who it was. "Damian, right?" The boy snaped out of his train of thought once he heard your voice.

You tilt your head when he gave you no response and just stared at you. You walked up to him and held out your hand. He shook your hand, squeezing it a little too tight for comfort.

"I'm Y/n."

"I know that." The boys' blunt words made you feel awkward. You cleared your throat and removed your hand from his.

"How come I couldn't hear your footsteps?"

'Okay, wired question.' you thought to yourself.

"I've been told I'm light on my feet. I-is there something you needed?" You just wanted to be left alone. You can already tell by this boy's snarky attitude, that he will be a pain.

Damian huffed and turned away. Telling you to enjoy your stay. Which made it sound like you were just a temporary guest. You wished that were the case. But reality is cruel, and you will be staying in this manor for a few years.

Dinner time was okay. You had to put on a facade that didn't look too sad. But didn't look so happy, you had to keep emotions in cheek. you only met Tim Drake and Dick Grayson. Dick was nice, he asked you a lot of questions, what genre of music you liked, what school subject you were more interested and your life in New York.

"Me and my cousin are really into science. He's more into Physics while I was more into Geology. We used to do debates on which Major would be more fun."

Bruce and Dick chuckle at that. You were smart, you had to address that. You needed them to know you wouldn't be a problem when it comes to academics. The manners you have been showing are to let them know you'll behave and not be a problem in home life.

You were able to speak to Damian a little more. He didn't seem that stuck up anymore. Dinner went smoothly. You bid everyone goodnight and head to bed.

Dick, Tim and Damian were in the bat cave. Bruce and Damian were ready to head out to patrol, but Bruce wanted to discuss more about you.

"She's a smart one. Can give her that." Tim was on the computers, pulling up everything he can find on you. Social media, school records, anything he could find.

"She and that cousin she brought up, were on the newspapers in Brooklyne a few years back for inventing a machine that could enter over 60 meters underwater and give out a wi-fi signal from 20 miles away- okay. Now that's impressive!"

Damian rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "Does she have any criminal records? Misbehaver in school maybe?"

Tim deadpans at those words. "Come on Damian, she seems harmless. A normal citizen." Dick spoke, letting out a chuckle.

"Well, she's a clean slate. And only had detention for being late to a few classes." Tim sighed and leaned back in his chair. Damian didn't know why, but he felt off about this new sister of his.

Bruce entered the bat cave and started to talk. He wanted the boys to make sure to make you feel welcomed. Damian has to keep an eye on her here and there at school. If she decides to join a club, then Damian will stay behind to be with her.

Of course, the young boy disliked this a lot. But he had no choice. Not like you had much of a choice either.

[tooosterduos]

I knew there was something about you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!ex-vigilante!reader

Warnings: ANGST!!!, swearing, reader is sorta bitch?, not a happy ending! Not proofread

A/n: the people voted so here’s the Jason fic! Unfortunately I don’t know how to write gutting wrenching angst but enjoy!

Rain tapped against the picture window of Jason and your shared apartment. It was 3:30 am and you had been up all night waiting for him to come home from “patrol”

“Patrol my ass.” You muttered as the clock struck 3:30. The door creeped open at 3:35, making your heart jump as you were quite invested in the book you were reading.

“You’re home late.” You spoke softly, trying not to anger the man in front of you. The two of you had been going through a rough patch the past few months, you thought it would rollover..but when it hit 6 months, you started preparing for the worst.

“Yeah patrol took longer than I expected.” He deadpanned, removing his jacket from his broad shoulders, hanging it onto the standing coat hanger, next to your front door.

“Mhm.” You hummed, “what’s that supposed to mean?” He growled lowly. “Well I’ll tell you what it means. You reek of alcohol, your uniform is no where to be seen, and your hair has obviously been combed. You could’ve told me you were going to the bar.” You replied keep your tone steady, not wanting to give into his antics that were to come.

“Stop doing that.” He snarled at you again, “doing what?” You asked innocently. You knew exactly what he meant, you were reading his mind..quite literally.

“Stop using my mind against me!” He snapped, finally sick of your “bullshit” as he would call it. “I have no privacy with you!” He continued, “Oh baby, privacy left the room a while ago. Privacy left when you asked me to marry you. Privacy left when we started sleeping in the same bed. Privacy is nonexistent in this house.” You growled back.

Now you both were just making each other angrier. “Then maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to marry me if you’re just gonna act like this.” He snapped at you again.

Your chest ached, how could he say something like that? At the end of the day, no matter how much the two of you argued, you still loved him. If he was gonna go low, you were going lower.

“Was she at least pretty?” You question, “what?” He asked quietly. “I said, was she at least pretty.” you said repeating yourself, “what are you talking about?” he rolled his eyes with that sentence.

“Jason..I’m not stupid.” you retorted. “Don’t act like that. As if you haven’t cheated on me!” He yelled, “I haven’t! Why would you even say that!” you asked, your voice small and laced with hurt.

Jason knew how to piss you off, and he was doing everything in his power not to scream at you. You knew deep down that it was the alcohol in his system that was making him act like this. You knew deep down he would never treat you like this, no matter how mad he was at you.

Something more significant was making him act like this. However no matter how hard you searched, you couldn’t find what it was. 

You snapped back into reality, staring at him, hurt. Tears brimming your eyes. It took everything in you to not run from your current situation.

Jason’s eyes softened as he stared at you, realizing the damage he’d done. He crept towards your quivering body. “No.” You stated as you watched him creep closer towards you.

“Listen..I’m sorry.” He stated softly, reaching out his arms toward you. You were quick to move away from his grasp. “I’m sorry doesn’t cut it Jason. I’ve had enough of this! Constant arguing! Over stupid things!” You yelled, struggling to get the words out as tears ran down your face.

“I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind, I know I should’ve told you. I know I should’ve been more open instead of being an asshole and taking my anger out on you.” he spoke gently again, you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

Your heart and body however, couldn’t forgive him. Not tonight at least. “I’m sorry but I can’t forgive you, not tonight at least.” You said as you wiped a tear from your face, walking towards your bedroom.

Jason didn’t dare to follow, you came back out a few minutes later with a pillow, blanket, and a pair of clean clothes for in the morning.



[rottenr0ckets]

https://www.tumblr.com/pyroy3/758317686261432320/compiling-additional-proof-against-wilbur-into?source=share

Debunking this post show casing "proof against wilbur"I will go into detail but first I must say most of this isn't proof it is word by mouth and just stories taken out of context or made out to sound malicious As I had referenced to in a previous post take this as a "tldr"As that's said let's begin

Important note that any response to this post that is aggressive, threatening, rude, immature, insulting, ect, will be blocked and ignored

1. Shebly shubble herself has gone back on her words and addmited to the biting being fully consented to. "I didn't consent to getting hurt" she did. She consented to the biting. After wilbur worked with her to get a safe word. If he worked to get a safe word it should of been made clear it would hurt. It never left bruises or cuts though. As you can see in pictures of her during that time there is none. It isn't easy to hide with makeup and if it broke skin as she said it would of gotten infected human mouths are full of bacteria and one bite breaking skin could cause serious infections (speaking as someone who used to violently bite themself) she agreed to the safe word and the biting with wilbur himself saying he had picture proof of it (not sharing out of respect for sheblys privacy which she didn't reciprocate obviously) she even sated she consented every time. So she did it many times knowing how hard he'd bite. "He ignored the safe word" no. He didn't. He only took a second to respond. Snap your fingers. That is a second. Maybe a bit more but never too much. With shebly admitting to not using the safe word properly and just instead screaming at him it's reasonable he'd take time or have a instinct reaction before letting go.

2. 3 reasons in two of them is not proof but relying on sheblys words. That is not proof. That is word by mouth. That is the reason people request proof (which shebly has been known to block people for asking) to use words as proof is to believe everything you see online which is by knowledge the #1 rule of the internet. People have their rights to belive by word of mouth or by proof. No one is obligated to trust her immediately. Not anyone. She has put a name to the person (said directly or not she had confirmed and put his name on the role of the abuser) which means no one is obligated to believe her. She has accused so there is permission to be skeptical as believing without proof can and has a long history of ruining innocent peoples lives. If everyone believed every accusation without proof we wouldn't have schlatt, will wood, tommy, tubbo, ranboo, philza, shebly herself ect All have long histories of being accused of things some lesser known than others. If we believed without proof when a name is connected to the accused it had been known to cause horrific things to happen to innocent people. Words aren't proof. History shows that. Her own actions show that. She's changed her story many times her words go against others stories and even her own.

3. The Disneyland video. Using how wilbur had stepped on tommys hand for untying his shoe as proof isn't really proof. "He never apologized" maybe not on camera. We never know what happens off camera. And even so he had done several other things in that video that could add up to an apology without words. Such as buying tommy all those candies to help his low blood sugar. As someone who used to have it that shit mean so fucking much I don't think many would understand. Also are we going to forget all the times tommy hit wilbur? How they play fight all the time how they laugh when they do it? Philza minecraft had witnessed it and played along treating them like as if they were rowdy brothers. Which is what their relationship is mainly about them being brotherly like genuine brothers. Philza conforming it saying they were like brothers off camrea as they were on maybe even a bit more. Do you think if it was wrong philza would stay so calm whenever they'd hit eachother? That they'd laugh and continue to hang out? Should we forget all the times tommy did equal stuff to wilbur that could be considered abusive by your standards if you feel this is proof of abuse? This goes along with your other yaps. Tommy hand begins *jokingly* bitten at a concert. It was a joke. And goes along with what I had said before. Now there was one you brought up that neither of us can speak on

https://youtu.be/Pcs3UcjKeXo?t=2111

4. Technoblade apple incident. In personal belief. Neither of each side can use this as proof. Not you not I not anyone. This includes a dead man. Someone who can't speak on this. Someone who can't share their side. Someone who should be left to rest and not have his name dragged into a story that doesn't involve him. We weren't there. You weren't there. No one but wilbur and technoblade were there. It is a story wilbur shared in memory of him. A silly light hearted story about an accident that had happened. He showed remorse, regret and showed himself to admire how well technoblade had handled it. He explained it was an accident. He didn't mean to hit his shoulder. No one else was there. So no one but him can confirm it. He used that story to tell on how strong technoblade was how he looked up to him. There is no sign of abuse. No one can confirm or deny it. The other is dead. And the one who told the story is the accused. We may never know if it truly was meant to have ill intent or not. You can read his mind you can't pull apart his words to figure out some.secret thing about him being abusive or not. There's nothing. Don't drag techno into this. Let the man rest.

5. Song lyrics. Now with these this is tricky. He had confirmed he does this thing where he switches the pronouns referring to himself as "she" or the the girl in the song and sings through the pov of the other person pretending it to be him. He's done this with his song Warsaw. So with his others songs he hasn't confirmed he does this it's up for debate. And if we're to use his songs as evidence against him. What about msr. It came out after his rs with shebly and has lyrics that oddly fit her. From her personality to complaints she made about him. If you were to argue his lyrics could reference him being abusive what about msr that closely resembles shebly and talks about wilbur being harmed phycally and emotionally several lyrics hitting at him being physically harmed by his partner. What about how most songs that came out after their rs have themes of wilbur being harmed a lot more recent ones talking about physical abuse in some parts.

Lyrics for example;

Trying not to think abiut it: "Never been the one for romance

Never thought that I'd get married

Never been the kind to give a shared life a second glance

Selfish prose, a lifestyle of a stained-glass window"

The median: "Please don't ask what these words mean

Just please don't misinterpret me"

Amazon standing lamp: "hit me now before it gets to cute, don't make me beg in this hotel room"

Mine/yours: "you never liked me when drunk I'm starting to believe you never liked me at all"

"I stand just outside the reach of your fists And take myself away, a gangrenous limb And dance around the subject, a figure of eight Describe all the parts of me I'm yet to break Count all the parts of me I'm yet to break"

The list goes on. As well as more and more of their recent songs more more seemingly reflecting shebly and describing her. Just as you did. I used lyrics and songs to make theories. Is this proof? Or is it just an idea and rambling. Take mine as just that then you go back on your own word of providing proof. There is no proof. Only ideas and theories. To use lyrics of older songs most from before he dated shebly is to be just as valid as using songs from after their break up

6. Saying he doesn't know what his songs were about. He does. He wrote them. He's told us the meaning of them before. In the genius interview he was high. Obviously not sober😭😭😭 idk what else to say on this really he was just high he is a known weed smoker and had smoked before the interview most likely to calm his nerves since he's made it very clear is anxiety causes him lots of.issues and is the reason why he even took his mental health break in the first place.

7. "Pretty privilege" this is one I've heard people use a lot along with "he's white!" "He's cis!" "He's a man!!" That's means nothing. Most wss addmit to having used to support shebly before given a reason not to. We supported shebly until given reason to doubt her. She has holes in her story. History of lying not just with relationships but also her whole merch fall out that caused many issues and showed her to be not so innocent. There is no pretty privilege. Most people turned to support shebly there is no minority of supporting shebly wss don't support wilbur because he's pretty or white it's because they have reason be it proof, holes in stories, ect. Is shebly herself not pretty? Is she not at considerably a higher beauty standard than wilbur? People go based off proof not appearance. Wilbur being a man means nothing. Are men not able to be abused? It is always women being the damsels in distress and not the abuser? To go into this would go into deeper topic I wish not to yet cover in this since it much more severe. But pretty has nothing to do with this. It's proof. Shebly has said she has no proof wilbur has said he has proof shebly has gone on her word wilbur as referred to it as allegations that "deeply shocked him". Do not begin with pretty privilege because I can assure you it's not that.

8. "He only targeted women smaller than him so he could pin them down." That's uhm.. well first off shebly is a body builder and does weights and wilbur looks like a starving Victorian child. Also most women are smaller than him he's above the average height women are naturally shorter than men to so idk what is going on in that. That's just a wild thing to say.

9. I will be grouping Alice, minx and Nikki together in this. Minx, her story was saying how when they got drunk together she tried to do something nice yes but it triggered him and he screamed at her. He was drunk to the point he was throwing up. It's not a surprised it would be something small like that to trigger him and even after she even said he apologized profusely to her and she still left. Minx is not one to be trusted since she can't even beat her own allegations against her for abuse and racism. She's known to lie and put herself in others stories and just be a horrible person. Nikki, Nikki was the one to instigate their friendship having gone on a TV dating show to talk to wilbur. She was the one that started every interaction. Wilbur had no problem distancing himself from her when shipping made them uncomfortable, she was the one to mention him without being forced to she was the one who had his stickers she was the one who showed herself as a fan in moments where she didn't need to..she never once showed no signs of being afraid of him and in fact only ever trying to instigate a friendship. Alice. I could say a lot about her. From her story conflicting with sheblys, to times not adding up to picurte proof of her lying about things. It's a lot to say on her.

Here's a link proving debunking alice with evidence:

https://x.com/UltraViole74456/status/1767408802465243341

With that. There is no proof in this post, just opinions and theories. Thank you for reading. Avoid putting false proof in posts about serious matters. Options and theroies do not count as proof. What does count as proof is pictures, screenshots, videos, audio recordings, official documents, posts of addition, anything that shows abuse without having to make theories, or that isn't affected by personal beliefs and shows the actions. I apologize for any grammar mistakes I might have made writing this.

[gavisfanta]

hiiii! can you make a dom!pedri? where the reader is jealous of pedri with a fan

JEALOUSY - PEDRI

summary: pedri shows you how much he loves you after you get jealous.

warning: smut 18+

a/n: working on more fanfics rn sorry for the slow uploads

Walking into that store full of fans while they stared at you wasn't one of the easiest things in your life.

So as soon as you entered people already gave you looks but it just made it worse as soon as you cut the line to go over to Pedri.

You waited patiently until the fan was gone that he was talking to and then you greeted him. A small wave was enough as he still talked to the fans. So you patiently waited until he had break, lucky for you, you only had to wait about 10 minutes.

Pedri then stood up and went to the back of the store so you two would have some privacy. "Hey" You whispered and he leaned in for a kiss.

"I thought you couldn't come." Pedri smiled at you as he left his hands on your waist after he pulled out of the kiss.

"I was able to make some time," You smiled and went through his hair but then took a step back again.

"I'm glad, will you be staying for the last 30 minutes?" Pedri asked, still holding your hand, desperate for some touch.

You smiled a little and then nodded your head, Pedri then drank a bit of water and then it was time for him to go again.

You also sat down on a chair but on the other end of the Barca store, since you wanted to give the fans that moment with him. After all they're not the ones who sleep in the same bed as him every night so they deserve that 1 minute.

Just as the thirty minutes were over and the last fan was talking to Pedri you went over but still kept a bit of distance. The fan was a girl who was around 17 and she was wearing a very revealing top.

She leaned over the table to give Pedri the pen and her shirt she wanted signed. Then she stood next to pedri and her friend took a picture of her.

Just as she turned away she gave Pedri a small white paper and then smiled while walking away with her signed jersey in her hand. The worst part about that was that Pedri took the paper note and put it into his hoodie.

You couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous at Pedris action.

Then Pedri thanked his fans and then walked over to you. You stayed quiet while you two walked over to his car and since you came by foot he could drive home and you could join him.

"That was exhausting." Pedri mumbled and put his hand on your tigh as he began driving home.

"I can imagine." you stared straight out of the window with your arms crossed. Pedri of course noticed that you were acting distant and started rubbing circles into your leg with his thumb.

"Is everything okay Cariño?" Pedri asked, he looked at you for a second since he couldn't take his eyes off the road for too long.

You only shook your head and exhaled deeply. "Just drive home Pedri." You mumbled, so Pedri did as you said, he decided that he would talk to you about it at home.

As soon as Pedri turned off the car you went to the door and walked upstairs to your bedroom.

Pedri looked after you as he was stood at the bottom of the stairs, confused as to why you were in a bad mood.

So he walked into the kitchen and grabbed into his hoodie, he threw the piece of paper the girl gave him with her number straight into the bin.

While you were upstairs and just got changed for bed, you were wearing panties and Pedris jersey but nothing more. As you were lying on your stomach in the middle of the king sized bed, you heard steps coming upstairs. Soon you heard Pedri walk into the room, you two never closed the bedroom door so you also didn't this time.

You tried not to look at Pedri as you were still mad at him but you felt him standing behind you.

"Why are you mad Cariño?" Pedri then got on all fours over you and started putting down his weight on your body. His face was burried in the crook of your neck while his hands were wrapped around your upper body.

You were holding yourself up on your elbows with the phone in your hand. You were just watching some tiktok as you felt Pedri starting to plant sloppy kisses along your neck.

"Pedri get off of me please." You said, now you were annoyed with him, he at first took that folded piece of paper and now he's acting all innocent with you.

Pedri let out a deep sigh as he got off of you again, but he kneeled down next to the bed and looked at you.

However, your gaze was strictly fixated on your phone screen as you swiped down your foryoupage.

"What did I do?" Pedri asked, pouting his lips. You sighed as it seemed like he wouldn't leave you alone if you won't tell him.

So you turned off your phone and then shifted your gaze to him, slightly rotating your body to face him.

Your eyes finally met his and you couldn't help but feel a little bad. His eyes looked so generous and his eyes were literally one of the reasons you fell in love with him.

"Why did you take that piece of paper from the girl?" You jumped straight to the point and Pedri couldn't help but smile a little bit as he noticed what was going on.

"I always take them but I throw them out, it'd be rude to reject it." Pedri answered with a wide grin on his face, somehow that just got you into a even worse mood.

"Ah huh," You simply said and then grabbed your phone again. But instead of turning it on you put it down on the bedside table.

"Is it possible that you're," Pedri stopped for a second and looked at his own jersey before making eye contact again. "Jealous?"

You exhaled deeply again and turned to face him, again. "Why if you wanna fuck her just tell me." You said, Pedris grin widened as he stood up and walked to the edn of the bed, you sat up and looked at him.

"You're the only one I'm fucking, trust me." Pedri mumbled in a deeo voice as he started to take off his pants. "Might as well show you how hard I fuck you." Pedri stepped out of his pants and took off his shirt too. You couldn't help but feel a little bit turned on already by his words, you felt the heat between your legs growing hotter and your stomach flipped as he crawled over you.

"Oh now you're quiet right?" Pedri smiled a little bit as you laid down on your back and soon Pedri crushed his lips into yours. You kissed him back, immediately in the first second. The kiss was filled with love and passion, but also a bit of need and affirmation. The kiss got heated quickly and what started with a small kiss quickly ended in a hot make out session.

Then Pedri's hand slipped from your face down to your chest, then to your stomach until it reached your soaked panties.

He slipped two of his fingers under the material and you felt him smile into the kiss as he realized how wet you already were.

Then he started circling your clit and spreading your juices around. You arched your back up towards his body at his touch.

But you moaned into his mouth as soon as his fingers slipped inside of you. Pedri started pumping his fingers in and out of you while his lips were still on yours.

But just a few seconds later you pulled away and threw your head back.

He fastened his pace and he watched as your breathing started to get faster with a smile.

As you felt your high aproach a moan escaped your lips again and that was when Pedri pulled his fingers out of you, you looked at him immediately.

"Why did you do that?" You questioned a bit out of breath. However you squeezed your legs together as Pedri put the two fingers into his mouth and licked everything off of them.

"You've been a bad girl." Pedri mumbled and slipped off his boxershorts, his hard dick jumping out of them immediately.

"You don't get to have fun tonight." Pedri mumbled and hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulled them down.

He then rolled your panties up into a ball and brought it up to your face, he stuffed them into your mouth and leaned closer to your face.

"Don't make any noise." He whispered as he rolled up the jersey which exposed your boobs. He pumped his hand up and down his dick a couple of times as he grabbed your left boob with his left hand.

"If you make any noise you won't come at all." He alined himself with your clit and then pushed himself into you harshly. He immediately started pumpung into you without leaving you time to adjust to his size. You threw your head back, trying to not make any noise as you wanted to satisfy Pedri.

He squinted his eyes as he fastened his pace and as soon as you adjusted to his size the hurting turned into burning pleasure.

"You think I'd ever fuck someone like I fuck you?" Pedri made eye contact with you and you shook your head. He nodded his head and suddenly pulled out of you, you whimpered softly at the lost contact and looked at him confused as your legs were still spread wide open for him.

"Turn around." He said harshly and you did as he said, then he grabbed into your mouth and removed the soaked pantie.

"Be a good girl and make some noise, show me how much you love daddy." Pedri changed his mind and he leaned forward to whisper it into your ear, that led to you getting goosebumps.

Then he started thrusting into you again, without a warning and you threw your head back and whimpered at the sudden contact.

"Such a slut, what would you do without this fat cock? You'd be nothing without it."

Pedri gripped your hips tightly and pulled you backwards everytime he thrusted into you. You tried to keep yourself on all fojrs but at this point your whole body was shaking with how hard he was fucking you.

You then moaned out loudly as he reached your g spot and kelt hitting it, you felt a warm knot build up in your stomach and a light pain in your lower back. Your legs started shaking and Pedri seemed to notice.

"So fucking needy for this fat cock, do you think I would fuck others like this? Do you think I would fuck others into oblivion like I fuck you?" Pedris words sent shivers down your spine.

So he sped up his pace and just a few seconds later, you came. Pedri didn't slow down but fucked you during your orgasm. You moaned loudly as your legs were shaking even more and you couldn't hold yourslef up on your arms anymore.

Pedri slapped your ass as soon as you put your head down on the mattress, your ass sticking into the air.

"You're a little cumdumpster, so needy aren't you?" Pedri asked you as everything in the room that was heard was skin slapping.

"So needy for my cum." Pedri noticed and slowed down a bit, his thrust became uneven and you felt his dick twitch inside of you before his cum shot into you.

You tilted your head backwards as Pedri then pulled out of you and laid down next to you.

"I love you." He said while he leaned closer to you to kiss your cheek and also press a long kiss on your mouth.

"Are you sure?" You laughed a bit and Pedri's eyes widened as he jumped up.

"You want me to show you?" He asked jokingly while spreading your legs wide open but as soon as you burst out laughing he closed the again.

"Gosh I love the spund of your laughter." He mumbled and crawled next to you again. As you turned to look at him he was smiling widely while admiring your face.

"I love you." You said and made eye contact with him. He then leaned in to kiss you softly but still passionately.

"I love you even more."

[lieswetell]

IFHY (Jordan Li x Alt!Reader) PT 1

Tags~ roommate au, enemies to lovers, alt reader, tattooed reader, slow burn, supe!reader, afab!fem!reader

Warnings~ angry sex, jordan might be a lil mean, porn w plot bc im freaky like that, drugs, alcohol, gay shit

Monday, August 7th

“It’s only one semester. This will be over before you know it,” Mia said.

You want to hear her out and try to be optimistic about the situation, but it’s complicated. Having your own dorm was rare in Godolkin. Students who did usually paid an ungodly amount for the extra privacy or were gifted one because of their current sponsors. For you, in your previous two years, it had been a mixture of both.

“This is bullshit.” You complain and have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at your phone.

Mia hadn’t done anything wrong. She was doing everything she could to get you what you wanted. However, it wasn’t playing out in your favor this time. You were still in your dorm, trying to cling on to that last bit of single dorm life you could, even though you were moments away from the move.

“Look. I love you, but there isn't anything else I can do. Some of these kids will probably be out in a few months.” Mia tried to help you look on the bright side of the situation.

You have yet to respond to what your assistant was telling you. Instead, you just kept looking around the now-empty dorm with a mournful gaze.

“Shetty says it’s a large roo-” Mia added.

“My room was plenty big enough,” You complained again. This time, the words came out in a sort of whine that would remind anyone else of a toddler.

 You got up from the floor and wiped your hands on your pants. After taking a deep breath, you closed the last bin in your room.

“One semester.”  You sighed.

“One semester,” Mia said, her voice a lot more positive than yours.

“When are you recording that video for-”

“Alright, look at the time the moving team is here. Can’t be late.” You cut her off and blew her a kiss before hanging up on her.

The moving team wasn’t anywhere near your room, and you knew that. If you focused, you could hear everyone in the building. There wasn’t a trace of dickheads with whistles anywhere near you.

The Godolkin University moving team usually consisted of sophomore students with too much strength to know where to put it. Many were from various clubs or programs that forced them to help incoming students. 

You started to stack your bins and luggage outside of your room on your own. Typically, the moving team would assist the students. Still, it was effortless for you to carry the items, and you thought if you looked around your dorm for any longer, you might burst into tears. That wasn’t very productive or good for your image if anyone were to see it. So you popped in your earbuds and started to lift the bins. When finished you put the label on your crate 465.

 With the headphones in your ears, you didn’t notice just how much more lively it was. Most of your floormates were in other single dorms with other upper-level students. So you would only really run into a few people if any, daily. With the influx of incoming students moving in, you would easily have trouble avoiding anyone. According to your assistant Mia, every dorm room was filled(yayyyy godolkin for not allowing students to live off campus).

After skipping an array of songs, Spotify somehow thought would suit your style, someone poked you on the shoulder.

“You’re 17#, right? Big fan, honest.”The boy said. Something you noticed everyone said after they wanted to snap a quick picture with someone. You couldn’t complain, though you had no proof this person was lying to you.

“Nice to meet you.” You said and copied the same amount of excitement. The perfect amount to seem genuine but still cool enough to feel above them in that weird way you can only get from social media. You extended your hand, and he shook it eagerly.

You didn't feel that way, of course. That’s just the game and how you needed to perform. All to get where you needed to be. Being a hero was a machine full of moving parts, and Mia has been training you since you were fourteen.

“Can I get a picture?” He asked, and you nodded before he could get the sentence out.

Always…

“Always always…” you answered happily. You quickly adjusted your hair and gave the boy a side hug.

The selfie came out nice. Cute and wholesome. You made sure he tagged you on the picture and used a few of your hashtags. You gazed around, wondering who was assisting him with the move. He just looked around at your bins before looking back up at you.

“Is there anything fragile in there?” He asked awkwardly. It seems he hadn't shaken off the nerves from meeting you. It was so silly to you. You weren’t Homelander or Queen Maeve.

“Yeah, the fragile stuff is in that box right there. Marked fragile in bold red tape…”

The boy then looked back at you with a look you couldn’t place. Before you could even realize what was about to happen, his arms stretched out to unnatural lengths as if he were made of rubber. He lifted all of your bins simultaneously. He wrapped and stacked them into the carts and secured them as if his arms were bungee cords. It was astonishing. You had never seen that power before, and although it was slightly disgusting, it was cool.

Just as you went to pat him on the back, a box on top crashed to the floor. You heard the glass shatter and knew instantly it was the fragile box he so kindly placed on top of everything to avoid it getting crushed. Just my luck. That was definitely the bong in there that you’ve had for a few years. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I've been stretched out all day. Things are starting to fall out.” he apologized genuinely.

“Lemme guess you are usually super tight?”

Your roommate was finished moving all of her things to the other side of the room. It definitely started as a struggle, but after a bit of time, Jordan started to get the hang of it. Early in the process, he was just bitching to himself about having to do this in the first place. He didn't really have anyone to complain about it to. His friends were rooming with each other, and he was the only one stuck rooming with a new person.

 His parents didn't understand his frustrations, and instead, they were just happy he would be rooming with a girl. Jordan tried explaining his irritation to Brink, but that was also a no-go. All Brink did was reframe the situation by saying it could somehow make Jordan a better hero.

“Are there seriously no fucking quads in this place?” Jordan complained to no one.

He sat on his loveseat on his couch and scrolled on his phone. He debated not being in the room when his new roommate arrived. Jordan heard that people had done that, but he was too nervous to do it himself. What if you stole something? What if you wanted to put your stuff on his side? Maybe you were a weird freshman? Or worse, a fan of him?

He sat back on the couch. His feet were planted firmly in front of him, and he scrolled on his phone. It was a position he often found himself in. In this form, his feet were actually able to reach the floor when he sat all the way back on the couch comfortably. In the other one, her feet dangled and gave off a less intimidating look than the one he was currently in.

There was a soft knock on the door. Jordan rolled his eyes and stayed in his position. Why would he open the door? If they were supposed to be moving in, they surely would have a key, right? He looked at his door open. Jordan wasn’t really sure what to expect to be standing in the doorway. 

When the ugly beast finally reared its head, Jordan finally exhaled. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until you waved at him.

“Hi” You said

It’s all you can offer him at the moment. The little helper you had assisting you barged in soon after you greeted Jordan. Jordan didn't even say anything to you. He just looked at you from his spot on the loveseat then his eyes trailed over to the freshman who couldn’t maintain eye contact with you.

“Looks like! Holy shit Jordan”

“Yeah.” He just nodded, confirming that he was indeed Jordan Li

The freshman stood awkwardly with your things and stared at Jordan. The interaction was just already a lot weirder than it needed to be. So you stood at the door and tried to think of a way to intervene in the impromptu staring contest.

“Thanks. You can just leave it right here. I can do the rest.” You thanked him with a big smile

With another resounding crash, he let go of the bins, and you winced. Jordan even was taken aback by the sound and rolled his eyes

“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asked 

He sounded genuine even though he treated your belongings like they were indestructible. You buffered for a moment and realized what he said

“Ma’am? How old do you think- never mind, just leave thanks.” You shooed him away and exhaled softly

“Bye”

He watched you. You unpacked your things, and he stayed put and just watched you. He was cycling through so many things in his head. Being so last minute, this situation didn't give him any time to prepare. The only thing he did was clean and move his shit to one side of the room. He was grateful that he could at least recognize you from the ranking. The unknown was scary like that. Jordan knows you have been slowly climbing your way to the top. Your reputation was squeaky clean. Your brand was sweet, innocent, and confident. 

Your brand didn't mean he trusted you, though. Anyone with more than two fucking brain cells at this school knew that your ‘brand’ or ‘online presence’ meant absolutely nothing. Just because you waltz in here with your big smile and wave doesn't mean he will let his guard down. Roommate or not, you still had the potential to be a big fucking dick.

“Yeah, just don’t touch any of my shit, and we should be fine.” Jordan said without looking up from his phone.

He sat comfortably slumped on the sofa. The uninterested appearance he’s in pissed you off. Oh, so he’s just like this? You could do this, though. You wouldn’t let him see that you were frustrated. People like him lived off of that shit, and you wouldn’t give him what he wanted. You just nodded and gave him another smile, one real enough to be convincing.

“I understand. You do have some nice things. Probably wouldn’t want anyone getting into it either.” You said in that cheerful voice that you had been trained to perfect. 

That time, Jordan did look at you. He was now thoroughly annoyed and over the roommate situation. In his eyes, he tried. In the twenty minutes you had been in the room, Jordan considered everything he had done ‘trying’. This situation wouldn’t work, though. He just wasn’t built to share rooms with a random person.

-

-

-

Wednesday, September 27th

“Jesus Christ, do you ever fucking fucking knock?!” Jordan shouted

You did knock. You dented the door to your room because you were banging on the door for about ten minutes. You even shot Jordan a few texts saying when you would return to the dorm. Of course, she hadn’t responded to any of them; she never did.

So you said fuck it and broke the lock on your door and walked into the room. Jordan was riding some junior in her bed. The sight wasn’t new to you, so you were unfazed. Seemingly to you, Jordan never really cared about you seeing her naked. It was more of the fact you were interrupting her that was the problem. In the two months you have been rooming with Jordan, you have walked in on her having sex four times.

The first time, it came as a shocker. You squealed and covered your eyes, immediately leaving the room and shooting her a few apology texts. When you left, Jordan just continued on like it was nothing. Like you were just a temporary pause. This time wasn’t like that. You walked in and closed the door behind you.

So you waved at the man who was underneath Jordan on the bed. He looked at you with a confused look, then turned to look back at Jordan, who was bewildered.

“You're not usually my type, but I think I could be down for both of you,” The man said, then looked back up at Jordan curiously.

You just walked toward your desk, sat down, and started up your laptop.

She climbed off him and huffed, “Get out”.

Then the man shuffled awkwardly around the room and tried to pick up his clothes. He slipped the condom off and didn't know what to do with it, so he tried to hand it to Jordan. She pointed towards the door, so he just nodded and held it as he left the room. His clothes were still crumpled in his other hand, covering his dick. You shook your head slightly, knowing that type of thing was far too normalized in this school.

“Do you purposely do that?” Jordan asked you sharply. It was more of an accusation. He barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was always intending to fight.

“Do what?” You asked and logged into the Godolkin portal.

“Wait until I’m using the room to appear out of thin air” She complained and stepped closer to you.

Whenever Jordan spoke to you, it was like they were a nagging little voice that you had to physically restrain yourself from losing your cool with. You didn’t want to risk an argument with Jordan, no matter how much of a bitch she was. It just wasn’t worth it. It would be optimistic to think that Jordan wouldn’t somehow get you lousy press from the situation. It was also optimistic of you to think that one day, Jordan would just stop trying to fight the fact that they would have to live with someone.

Every day you felt like you were seconds from Jordan finally saying fuck it and starting beef with you publicly just to fuck up your rank. Being ranked seventeen wasn’t the best you could be, but to most people, being in the top one hundred was quite an accomplishment. Job security was a hard thing for supes to find, and you weren’t going to fuck up your brand just because Jordan was having a bad day.

“Oh, please. I texted you, Jordan. Multiple times,” It came out with a little more emotion than you intended. Patience wasn’t your strength today.

“You didn’t,” She said flatly.

You huffed and pulled your phone out of your bag. When you pulled up the text chain to show her. You looked away awkwardly when she turned around to grab her phone. For some reason seeing her ass suddenly felt invasive, although she was so chill about it. Once again, she was more pissed about the fact she didn't cum.

“That’s not even my number.” She showed you her Apple ID and rolled your eyes.

“Who’s fault is that?” You asked her this time; your tone couldn’t have been mistaken for anything but annoyed.

Jordan realized what she did and grabbed your phone out of your hand. You scoffed at the action and tried to snatch it back, but she was faster than you. Probably in both forms, unfortunately. Jordan just updated the contact info and handed you back your phone(which you snatched out of her hands immediately).

“You could’ve knocked,” Jordan said, and you did a sharp inhale.

You looked up at her, then back down at your phone at the updated info. It was hard not for you to be pissed about the fact he lied to you. So many arguments could’ve been avoided, but of course, she couldn’t even give you her number.

“I did. For about ten minutes. Maybeyouweretoobusycreamingondicktohearaboutit” 

The words came out as a rushed whisper. The struggle of trying to hold your anger was starting to become not only a mental challenge but a physical one.

“What did you say?”Jordan asked. This time, he almost seemed kind of excited, which didn't help you calm your nerves in the slightest.

“The locks broken, by the way. You locked me out, so I had to break it open. I’ll schedule a maintenance worker to check it out around five,” You told him. The facade was back up. You were no longer spewing attitude at him.

The maintenance request was sent, and Jordan was left confused at the sudden change in demeanor. He was excited for a second that it seemed you finally had a moment of real fucking emotion with him. Jordan would much rather be alone in his dorm, but your unwavering positivity threw him off more than he intended.

Jordan could recall a few times he would complain and rant about you to his friends during smoke seshes. It had only been two months, but he felt like he wasn’t even rooming with a natural person. Something about you was too perfect, too clean, just all around, too bland. He was excited to talk to a person for that quick moment there. It's not the brand you posted for everyone to see. 

He went back to the other side of the room in defeat. He sat on top of his bed. Jordan never stopped looking at you. You slipped up, and maybe that gave him hope(he would never admit it).

“I need the room at five,” Jordan said.

You furrowed your brows and looked over at the calendar on the wall. Each day that passed, scribbled out with a blue Sharpie. You shook your head and looked over at him.

“You have class. It’s Wednesday,” You said matter of factly.

Jordan rolled his eyes and mumbled

.“No, I don’t.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. He could be so petty sometimes for no reason, and this was one of those moments.

“Did you just disagree with me just because?” You asked him.

Jordan couldn’t think of a comeback or words to say. You talked to him in that weirdly positive tone despite clearly being irritated with him again. Maybe his dick twitched a little, but he ignored that.

“Jordan, put some clothes on, okay?” 

“Fuck you”

“Your dick is out”

“Have a great day”

Maintenance fixed the door problem by 5:13 pm. It was a simple fix. A new doorknob was installed, but a couple of dents from your early frustration remained a reminder. Afterward, you were alone in your dorm, struggling to wait forty minutes to join a lecture.

  It was a struggle not to nod off in front of your computer. Online classes always felt like a good idea when you signed up for them, but you soon realized they were a trap. It is a carefully crafted trap for you to waste your time on the course because you couldn't keep your eyes open long enough to listen to your professor drone on about the importance of… You fell asleep.

You needed the relief anyway. It was a struggle to keep holding up the illusions you were. The influx of incoming students fucked you over. Having a roommate who hated you meant you were always using your powers. You couldn’t trust him not to try and ruin your brand. The only times you would have a break from having to cast an illusion was when Jordan was out doing whatever the fuck he did besides training and sulking.

Illusions fell around you—your side of the room that was once pale blue and pink warped into black and purple. Your hair, which once seemed to be tied tightly in a bun, fell around your shoulders. The pink sweater you wore was replaced with a black hoodie you had for years. The illusions you had concealing your tattoos shattered. The ink from your arm sleeve peaked out from the wrist of your hoodie.

-

-

-

“Who are you texting?”Andre asked 

It was late. Jordan sat on the couch in his friends' dorm and tried not to be bitter that there were only three bedrooms. He typed in his phone, angry you weren’t responding. Why does he have to deal with this? He’s pretty sure when he leaves that, all three of them just crash in the living room in a pile like cavepeople anyways. Andre’s room was always too fucking clean for anyone to actually stay in there.

He leaned over on the couch to try and take a peak at Jrdan’s phone. Jordan leaned away, mildly irritated with his friend. Andre just shrugged and made a face at Cate. Cate rolled her eyes, already knowing where this conversation was going to go. It was the only thing Jordan talked about the past couple of weeks.

“My hell of a roommate,” Jordan complained and rolled his eyes.

You hadn’t responded to the last ten texts he sent. He was trying to be better to you. He might've felt a bit guilty about giving you the wrong number for that long. So now he was trying to do what you would have done for him. He planned on bringing the same guy from earlier back over, but you wouldn’t respond to him.

“Oh, she cant be that bad?” Cate said, trying to be positive about the situation.

“Cute, you guys are texting,” Andre whispered.

Jordan heard him, however, and switched. Before Andre had a chance to react, Jordan slapped him in the back of the head. The touch was light but quick. Andre chuckled softly and then raised both of his hands.

“Well, I’m trying to tell her I'm on my way back to the dorm. Might need it in a few,” Jordan explained and put his phone away.

“Why do you look so stressed?” Luke asked.

To be honest, he was the only one not caught up on the whole Jordan hating her roommate thing. He thought she would get over it in a week, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. Jordan still hated you basically for existing at this point. Luke tried to lock in on the situation, but he was still pretty high from the session that just ended.

“She isn’t fucking responding,” Jordan whined.

“It’s fine. It’s only been like ten minutes,” Luke stated.

Luke’s eyes looked around the room for whatever the fuck he was missing. Cate just laughed beside him.

“Since the last text I sent. I texted her five hours ago,” Jordan added, her arms crossed in front of her.

“It’s probably nothing,” Luke assured her, although he didn't understand why the situation was that. 

Serious. Cate understood it, though. Even if, at the time, Jordan didn’t understand, she could have seen it already. Cate had a weird way of just knowing.

“Yeah, what are you so worried about?”Andre asked, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

Jordan looked away and flipped him off. Cate and Andre shared another look, and Jordan wanted to flip the couch over. She didn’t though

“Fuck off, Dre.”

“Who is she again? Freshman?” Cate asked

“No, junior.” Jordan answered.

“Who is it?”Luke asked, hoping that maybe that would explain Jordan’s frustration.

When Jordan answered, none of them had much of a reaction, which wasn’t very satisfying for Jordan. Andre didn’t even know who you were talking about(he didn't pay attention to the rankings much). Cate just nodded, taking in the info. It was always funny to her how the most liked people could be some of the worst. Luke didn't run with Jordan’s opinion of her roommate. He knew how dramatic Jordan could sometimes be, and he was pretty sure she would've hated any roommate she was assigned to just because they were an inconvenience to Jordan.

Jordan didn't like the feeling of being interrogated, so the hangout was cut shorter than normal. Once she answered one question, it was like he opened Pandora’s box of bullshit, and everyone wouldn’t get the spotlight off of her. So, she gave up on reaching out to the guy from earlier and instead was banging on the door of her dorm room like a mad woman.

“Dude, open the fucking door!”Jordan shouted.

He didn't want to break the door again, but the longer he stood outside, the more appealing of an idea it became. Inside the dorm, you were still fast asleep at your desk. The exhaustion from overusing your powers took a severe toll on your body. You had been out cold the entire time. All illusions previously placed on you and your things were deactivated.

“C’mon, this is really petty. Just open up.” Jordan said again, but you couldn’t hear him.

A hard alarm sounded in your ear. You shook your head awkwardly, then scrambled to check your laptop.

Take your pill

You nodded and stood up to take your birth control. You made it three steps before you fell because of the loud bang at your door. Shit. Jordan’s voice yelled something behind the door that you couldn’t quite make out at the moment. All you knew was that you needed to hurry and get all the illusions back up. You waved your hands a bit, trying to tap into Jordan’s psyche once you were confident enough that the illusions were back up, and you dry-swallowed your birth control and made your way to the door.

Act normal

“Hey, sorry I got caught up in studying?” You answered the door with a smile.

“Fine, whatever. I texted you, though.” Jordan looked at you, partially confused

It didn't make sense to him. You went hours without answering him, and your excuse was that you got caught up studying. What the fuck? You didn’t even look tired? Jordan hated you. You closed the door behind him and sat on your bed.

[heartfullofleeches]

Oohhh I love the night gallery crew!! <3

Okay so- how would the art gallery harem react to the news that their precious night guard used to pose as a nude art model for one if their previous jobs? Bonus points if they end up digging around and finding old drawings/portfolio pics of them posted online lol

The Painter

Their muse - a model in the past? A nude one at that? They can't say they aren't jealous others have bared witness to their beauty, but they won't be so upset about it if their dearest is willing to come out of retirement and maybe send their older photos up to their study. They promise not to stare too much, but they pray their muse doesn't mind if their eyes linger. It's rare for them to be in the presence of such raw perfection. They are more of a hands on type of painter so their muse wouldn't mind a few touches, no? As they would say, it’s all just apart of the process.

Rosebud

Of course they are interested, but they won't press the matter unless Reader offers to share.... Please ignore the excitement of their roses - though they do reflect Rosebud's inner feelings they assure Reader it's just past their feeding time. Clearly more flustered than they let on. Refuses to look at the images because they would only make them more tempted to leave bites all over Reader to claim them as their own as they are when they see the Guard's exposed neck or wrists or pretty much any uncovered inch of skin.

The Scavenger

Hope staff gives the printer in the breakroom a nice funeral because if Scavenger gets its hands on those portfolio shots it's the end of the line for that poor machine. Anything relating to their precious treasure is the pinnacle of their collection. They must have more - even if it's the same picture a thousand times it's still not enough. If anyone comes across one of their copies it's best theu leave them their because even if they're trying to return them Scavenger will accuse them of stealing. There's not doubt I my mind they've eaten a copy or two because they're weird like that.

The Faceless Angel

Conflicted. On one hand they are interested in seeing their guard in all forms, but on the other it feels like an invasion of privacy. Unlike some, their intrigue comes from an artistic viewpoint rather than sexual. They'd give anything for the opportunity to touch Reader's warm flesh without clothing in the way. It feels like heaven on their stone skin.

The Lady in Red

It's the less images she's interested in and more the people who have seen them. Swiftly cuts down anyone who views Reader's pictures while in the gallery be they human or fellow exhibit. She can't do anything about the past, but does everything in the present to keep too many eyes off her love. Takes the photos Scavenger loses and while she keeps a few on hand - she burns the rest.

Julian

Slimy fuck is probably the first to come across them being the noisy little stalker he is. As an artist in his free time, he does use them for reference, but it's much more fun to use them for other things. Like teasing Reader about their past or taping copies to the breakroom fidge. He only does it when he knows they're the only two on shift because he'll have to hurt anyone who sees them nakee besides him. Like Lady, he's more likely to attack paintings who have gotten a hold of the scavengers copies.

Anri

Their favorite coworker was once a model? How fun! They aren't the best artist, but they can draw Reader too. A little bashful about seeing them naked so they stick to just about the shoulders. They want to at least waiting until their ten date with Reader before seeing them in such a state. Covers their eyes and runs off whenever someone tries to show them. Julian only allows Anri to see the photos because it's fun to chase them through the halls with them or point out various aspects of their features to make Anri flustered

The Director

Dislikes imagine of Reader because while they can be used to create copies of them, The Director wants the real thing. Still has one of Scavenger's photos tucked in his coat pocket.

[starrclown]

EclispeDuo headcannons I have but I can't explain most of them but they just feel right★★

Triggerwarning for talks of death, alcohol, blood, past bad experiences, and other triggering topics

Sillies <3

Chang'e has been trying for YEARS to get Wukong on her show. Wukong wants to be on it but he's really camera shy so they can never release the episode cause he gets to nervous.

Wukong let's Chang'e in on ALL the tea going on earth.

Chang'e really does not like Macaque because of his history with Wukong. Wukong doesn't suger coat their past, he goes into enough detail to keep somewhat privacy but he'spretty open and honest. He also told her about Macaque's recent atrocities committed on him and Mk. This causes Chang'e to have a really negative opinion on Macaque because she doesn't understand why Macaque would be so mean to Mk just cause he doesn't like Wukong. (She also doesn't like Macaque because how dare he hurt Wukong's feelings.)

Wukong babysits some of Chang'e bunnies sometimes when she's broadcasting her cooking show.

Wukong fills Chang'e in ALL the gossip on earth.

Chan1g'e helped Wukong through alot of his trauma. She helped him when Macaque died, when Ao Lie died, when the rest of the pilgrims past, when he had to put DBK under the mountain, when his mountain burned, and other events. Chang'e knows how grief fills so she jus let's him cry. It's comforting.

Wukong and Chang'e have gotten ABSOLUTELY SMASHED on the moon. Their hangover was BAD after that.

Wukong knows how to sew so he makes him and Chang'e matching clothing.

Chang'e likes to make little cupcakes that look like animals for the monkie gang on earth. She makes pig ones for Pigsy, monkies for Mk and Wukong, and miscellaneous ones for the others. (Cause she never met them, she has just heard Wukong talking about them .)

Chang'e and Wukong are each others biggest hype men.

Chang'e has seen almost every baby picture of Redson, she's basically seen that kid grow up more than his dad did.

Wukong once cut his finger cutting vegetables and Chang'e FREAKED out.

When Wukongs hair gets to long, he'll just cut it so he doesn't have to deal with it. Chang'e likes seeing his hair long though so she'll tie it up for him so it's out of his way.

Wukong really likes to groom Chang'e. It gives him a excuse to just yap and show affection in a monkey way.

Chang'e likes to do Wukong's makeup.

Wukong gifts Chang'e the extra golden jewelry he has because they both like shiny gold things.

They both have merch of each other. Wukong has a Chang'e baking set and Chang'e has that talking cardboard cut out from that cooking show episode.

Chang'e is VERY judgy of Wukong's romantic taste. If she doesn't like who Wukong is talking about she looks at him like 🤨

They have week long sleepovers. They'd probably be longer if Wukong didn't have to train Mk.

They paint each other's nails their favorite colors. Chang'e gets gold nails and Wukong gets blue nails.

Guys I NEED more content of these two together in my life. If yall know any fics with these two let me know cause I love them.

(Drop your own headcannons in the comments, I wanna see how people interpret these two.)

🫶🏻����‼️

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

[lovekz]

make me the last

syn -> famous photographer and artist rin fumbled the baddest bitch in his life.

content warnings : infidelity, drinking, foul language, idk word vomit

-

it was around six-twenty something in the afternoon, the sun was beginning to rest from the sky.

rindou had you laying in bed nude, recently recovering from a round of intense lovemaking.

"where do you wanna go for dinner baby?" rindou asks in a hushed voice, rubbing your hand slowly.

you glance at him intrigued, before giggle against his chest. "let a girl breathe first." you joked, shoving his chest playfully.

rindou laughs beside you, before pulling you closer to his much warmer body.

he pressed a kiss to your hand, tracing the ink with his eyes.

your ring finger had tatted ink around the base as though it were a ring, the moon and sun sitting in the clearing.

the skin closest to your thumb had a rose and a little heart heart beside it.

rindou had drawn these a couple years back, his first pieces of art that he published.

on your third anniversary, you decided to get them tatted and he loved it.

you huff a bit, before feeling his hand snake under your hip and roll the both of you over so you were on top of him.

"what about.. that restaurant that just opened. solace?" you suggest, pushing his hair to rest behind his ears.

he tilts his head back and thinks for a bit, before nodding with a short smile.

"think i'd like that." rindou offers a grin, rubbing the fat of your bare backside in his warm palm.

you hum quietly, muttering okay and pressing your nose into the junction between his neck and shoulder.

a few extra minutes in bed never hurts anyone, the restaurant wasn't going anywhere.

-

the two of you showered, got dressed in some casual clothes, and headed out to get to the restaurant.

thankfully, it wasn't too packed so you got your privacy and was able to take pictures and enjoy your food in peace.

most of the pictures taken was of you, eating, enjoying the drinks and music, and even posing outside.

rindou was only in some, in which he kinda hid his face in every now and then.

only people you were close to knew you were dating rindou, and by close you meant his brother and your shared friends.

other than that, it was a private relationship and thankfully no one seen the two of you on your causal outings.

"hey. i'm gonna use the bathroom and then we can leave." rindou says, pointing towards the back.

you glance at the sign and nod, waving him off and looking back to see which picture you wanted to post.

he gets out of his seat and makes his way their, stretching lightly.

the time length only bothers you when you hear your waitress clear her throat to gain your attention.

your eyes scan the room in confusion, your boyfriend nowhere in sight.

"i'm sorry, he's-" "i know where he is." the waitress cuts you off, sitting at the table with a soft smile.

you quirk an eyebrow at her, immediately sitting up in defensive mode.

you don't believe you've seen her face anywhere, but she sure as hell seemed to know you.

regardless, she's got your full attention and you want to know what she wants.

but thinking back, maybe you should've protected your peace and waited outside.

"i'm amira. you don't know me." she introduces, digging into her pocket with a short hum.

no shit, you think, tucking a hair behind your ear.

she pulls out a brown envelope and slides it over to you, before standing and taking the check book.

"get home before he does. you'll want to."

-

boy do you regret not keeping your peace. you stood in the kitchen, holding your head.

frustration. anger. horror. sadness.

you had no idea what to do, what to say.

in the brown envelope, there was a hand written letter from the waiter amira inside, along with a few polariods from the film you got him for his birthday.

it was one of a kind, because you purposely had them custom made.

it explained how she had been one of his girls up until a few months ago, when she found out about you.

said you had called in the middle of the two of them having sex, claiming a miscarriage.

he discarded it, explaining that you were 'his sister' and you needed him right this minute

his sister.

and she'd done her research, finding out about you through his brother by accident.

said she's sorry, and if she had known she wouldn't have spoken to him or even batted an eye.

the rest of the polariods were pictures of him and other girls, each one getting worse than the previous.

there were also messages of him and other girls talking, all having that same exact heart you had next to your contact.

only difference is you had the shiny ring on your hand to prove you were supposedly his.

"honey? why'd you leave without me?" rindou asks, walking in with the to go bags.

you take your hands off your face and look at him, then back at the evidence in front of you.

he squints from behind his glasses and walks up to the coffee table, picking up the first piece of paper.

he stares for a while before flipping the paper to show you in confusion.

"what's this? who's is this?" rindou asked you directly, sitting next to you and holding it.

you raise from your seat and snatch your hand away from his, walking to stand on the other side of the table.

"your pictures, your film, your texts. what is this- how dare you!" you raise your voice, mocking him.

rindou sighs, giving you a irritated look and standing from his seat.

"you don't have to yell at me. i'm in front of you. we can talk baby." rindou reassures quietly, as though he were innocent.

he was doing that thing he does.

the thing he does to ran, or shion, or anyone but you.

speaking to you as though you were a little girl who didn't know shit from shat.

so you said the only thing you could have proof of.

"where were you when i had that miscarriage?" you questioned, taking a deep breath.

"with shion. i told you this." rindou says, crossing his arms.

you scramble around the table, before picking up a polaroid picture and presenting it to him.

the picture of him and amira, the date and time presented as well as his signature and your little 'my love' in the bottom corner.

it was what made each and every one of the polaroids different from other photographer's polaroids.

"look, i don't know how someone got these, did these, but it's honestly horrifying." rindou saids, tossing his arms out.

you blinked, before nodding.

if she were to make all of this up, she'd have to go through great lengths and see one of the pictures.

that part was true at least.

so you hold your hand out and look him in the eye.

"then let me see your phone." you whisper, pointing your chin over to his phone that sat on the headrest.

he turns and grabs it, and you snatch your hand back before he could place it in your grasp.

"your work phone, haitani." you demand, pushing the tears down your throat viciously.

rindou pauses, before glancing around the room in hurried glances.

i fucking knew it.

you snatch off the ring on your finger and throw it at him, huffing a bit and swallowing your tears.

you couldn't cry in front of him. you couldn't let him make you vulnerable and easy to manipulate.

"i went through it already. cause you made the password ran's birthday backwards right?" you explain to him, dropping the polaroid picture on the floor.

you don't let him speak, just put on your shoes and sniffled.

"just leave me alone from now on. make me the last, rindou." you whisper, before stepping outside of the house.

your things were already packed in your car.

-

breaking news! : famous photographer and artist ri_tani accounts missing and supposed artist is on hiatus?

is ri_tani quitting his upcoming career? or is he planning something big for his fans?

photographer and artist ri_tani has fallen off earth? what happened?

what will happen to ri_tani's muse now that he has gone on hiatus?

ri_tani's muse is currently missing! all post from the account has been taken down. is the pair alright?

block any notifications, posts, mentions, or texts about (ri_tani) ?

no | yes

confirm?

confirmed! we will hide all posts related to (ri_tani)! enjoy your peace!

-

lights flashed as you stepped out of the vehicle, paparazzi and such taking pictures and screaming your name loudly.

you smile brightly at everyone and the cameras, showing up to your own event fashionably late.

a reporter stopped you, holding a microphone up to your face.

"miss! what made you open a art museum as a model?" she asked hurriedly.

you smile at her, tucking your hair behind your ear and looking at her.

"being beautiful means you love being surrounded by beautiful things." you explain lightly, walking further into the place.

when you make it in, everyone is standing around having light chatter and sipping on champange.

"if it isn't the lady of the hour." you hear call from beside you.

your boss, shuji hanma, stood by one of your most prized possessions wearing a grey suit.

you made your way over to him excitedly, before pulling him into a tight hug.

"this is so exciting shu! i wouldn't be here without you." you call out, shuffling on your heels.

shuji chuckles at that, nudging your shoulder lightly and having a seat near the fountain.

"don't degrade yourself sweetheart. now enjoy. got some mingling to do." shuji says, gesturing to the group of girls that were approaching.

of course where there's your boss, there was at least one girl hanging around for him.

thank goodness you weren't one of them.

you grab a glass of champange and make your way towards the big balcony in the back, sighing.

socializing immediately was not your go to.

you just wanted to have fun and enjoy your pretty fucking huge accomplishment.

you look up at the sky, counting however many stars you could and giving yourself a estimate of how much could be in the sky.

and how much you planned to put up there.

a flash comes from behind you, and you jump lightly, before turning around to face the camera.

"jesus! couldn't get my good side at least?" you joke, ready to pose for another one.

you freeze when you see the familiar face, concentrated on shaking the film to see the picture.

he doesn't look up at you, only the picture in his hand that he was aggressively shaking.

"don't worry, you're beautiful in all angles. you're the owner, right?" the man before you questions, finally looking up.

he scans your body lightly, not invading your privacy, but looking for something.

it stops at your hand, in which you hide from his view and look away.

he looks right back into your eyes, and takes quick steps to approach you.

"you need to leave. now." you demand, stepping to the side and venturing further into the party.

he tries to catch your arm, tries to speak to you, but you pay him no mind.

the party goes on, and finishes off with the entry of a new art from a few french artists.

you move on with your life, proud of your achievements and taking a break from social media and modeling.

it isn't until you go viral on the internet once more for a reason you never wanted to that you return.

former artists muse has been revealed to be our very own 'godsent' model (name)!

why did (name) hide the fact that she was a artist's muse?

after three long years of searching, former artist finds his muse at the grand opening of arts of heaven!

did former muse (name) go awol because we found her secret?

the only reason these had popped up on your phone because they did not bring up that godforsaken name.

the name you tried to block out years ago, but it seems he's made his return back into his life and you wanted him out.

you screamed into your pillow, kicking your legs like a child.

why did he have to show up that night? why did he have to ruin everything you had going for yourself?

why couldn't you live in peace?

your phone rings, and you turn over to see shuji facetiming you.

you pick it up, showing your face like he'd probably demand you to if you hadn't when it connected.

the phone answers, and he has his phone propped up on his desk.

he seems to be at home, in the office you helped him decorate a while back while he was sick.

"good. had to make sure you were okay." shuji hums in delight, glancing at the phone for a milisecond before typing loudly.

"what am i gonna do shu? i don't wanna be known as his muse." you complain, rolling over in bed.

shuji sighs, folding his hands and facing his camera completely.

he didn't look the least amount of stress, he actually looked like he was enjoying your suffering.

"you have nothing to worry about. it's under control." shuji answers, before turning back to his computer.

it doesn't reassure you in the slightest, but you stay silent regardless.

you scroll through social media, before something completely horrifying pops up on your phone.

a art gallery, digital of course, made by ri_tani himself.

what was it you may ask?

the land of fucking love.

-

when rindou hears his door ring, he leans back out of his chair in confusion.

he knows he ordered groceries online, and had a few packages come it, but he specifically said not to knock or ring the bell.

so who would ignore his wishes?

he shuts off the music he had playing in the background, and it makes him freeze.

it was louise by tv girl, one of the songs he heavily related to.

he missed his muse, badly.

the knocking and ringing of his doorbell persisted, so he quickly stormed upstairs to his front door.

it was probably ran, coming to shove his niece into his hands so he could go on some adventure with his girl.

lucky him, he gets the happy ending.

rindou just gets what he can remember and the arts and pictures of his muse.

he swings the door open and is immediately greeted with you, the girl from the opening.

"you think this is funny, rindou?" you spit out, glaring daggers and wishing dangers over his head.

you say his name with such anger, such passion. it makes his heart flutter just a bit.

whoever made you knew just what they were doing.

the way you screwed up your nose, stared him down, and even raised your voice though you knew he looked and probably was stronger than you.

he wonders how you’d look if-

‘focus rindou. no time for that.’ he thinks, inhaling deeply.

"..no? i'm sorry?" he questions, crossing his arms in confusion.

he steps to the side and lets you in, watching as you kick your shoes off and walk further into the house.

you seem to know where to go, and he doesn't seem to mind it. it looks, feels, and seems natural to him.

natural enough to let you behave like a mad woman that is.

you were probably looking for something, and knew where to find it so he'll leave you be.

not because you look like you'll throw his dining chair over his head if he moves an inch or says even a syllable.

definitely not.

rindou sits at the marble counter and stares at the chandelier, waiting for your return.

and when you do, it's his laptop you hold in your hands.

you place it down onto the counter and type in the password in front of him, before opening a few tabs.

rindou must know you, since you know a lot about him down to his laptop's password.

you slide the screen over to him and he stares at his latest digital project.

the land of love.

"yes that's mine. and?" rindou questions, resting his head onto his palm as he stares up at you.

you're fucking gorgeous, but so familiar.

the feeling you give him is full of melancholy love, and he wants to know why.

"why the fuck would you make this? i told you to leave me alone!" you exclaim loudly, ready to tear his head off.

he thinks if you huff anymore you'll pass out or maybe turn into a actual tomato.

regardless, it was totally hot.

if he had his sketch book with him he would’ve drew you right there.

"okay. calm down. do i know you?" he genuinely asks, standing from his seat.

his demeanor was definitely pissing you off, but his eyes hold genuine confusion in them.

you don't know what happened, why he was either seriously pretending he doesn't know you, or why he really doesn't.

but you weren't sure if you wanted to find out.

he stares you down, before looking at the tattoo on your hand.

"you. it was you. you're my muse, right?" rindou clarifies, grabbing your hand to get a closer look then looking back at the laptop.

you don't snatch your hand out of his, just watch him as he sits down while holding your hand.

he seems happy now, unable to contain himself.

"what is going on with you?" you questioned, exasperated tone soaking your words before you can stop it.

rindou looks up at you, and lets go of your inked hand. he gestures to the seat next to him and you take it.

"the last few years i had been taking in too much alcohol and drugs on a daily basis." rindou begins, looking at the marble counter.

it must have been after you left when he started doing this, because you don't recall him drinking or smoking unless he was absolutely stressed and couldn't reach you.

you meant a lot to him, career and personal wise. but you couldn't handle not being the only one he seeked in bed.

you deserved better, and got better.

"to the point where i was drunk everyday without even drinking sometimes. it fogged my brain. even ended up.. you know." he says, not wanting to say the word.

you don't respond, waiting for him to finish.

rindou sighs, leaning back and looking up at his candle chandeler.

"i'm in rehab though. doing therapy to help figure out what i'm missing. the uh- land of love was a release of the information." rindou explains, shifting his eyes towards the site.

the information of him losing his memories.

the information about forgetting you, the most important thing that lived and breathed near him for years.

funny part is, he knew you. he just didn't know what you looked like.

hence the art slowly fading from your back portraits to just the tattoos on your hands.

you sigh, running your hands over the counter in deep thought. there wasn't anything you could say.

but he was genuine. he wanted to know what happened that made you leave.

and you told him. from start to finish.

rindou listened the entire time, not interrupting you once.

he was finally getting the information he wanted. the information he needed to move on.

the house grows silent as you run your hands up and down the marble counter.

rindou is staring up at the chandelier again, completely still.

hearing about his past self seemed.. true enough. especially if you were this mad.

“that.. I was a douche.” rindou says absentmindedly, closing his eyes.

when he doesn’t receive a response, he opens them again to look at him.

you’re glaring at him, but it doesn’t hold the same amount of anger as earlier.

rindou falters a bit under your gaze, fixing his lips into a pout.

“I… am a douche?” he questions, obviously trying to please you.

you scoff lightly, and stand up from your seat.

rindou follows you, stumbling over his mess clothes and staring at you.

you start scrambling, picking up your keys, phone, and purse.

“I shouldn’t be here. I should go.” you say quickly, sniffling and looking around.

what were you looking for?

it doesn’t matter, because rindou grabs your hand before you can try to leave.

“stay. please. why do you have to go?” rindou questions desperately.

you pause and frown, before looking at him.

“if I do, I’ll never want to leave.” you whisper, sniffling slightly.

rindou pulls you closer, watching as your other arm goes limp.

your keys fall to the floor next to you, but he does catch your phone.

“is that a bad thing?” rindou questions.

and you don’t know what to do.

[izpira-se-zlato]

I've been thinking about the Jance photoshoot and oof do I have Thoughts but -- okay, an attempt to explain why this photoshoot really speaks to me.

I've seen a bunch of different takes float across my dash, but to me the core of this photoshoot is the portrayal of a very deep bond between two men without fully specifying what kind of bond it is. The message I get from their pictures, from Jan looking into the camera (almost?) defiantly while Nace looks serious to the two of them looking at each other and only each other, is "This is us. This is our relationship. What kind? Well, none of your business, but we're not hiding it and we won't help you put us into a definitive drawer."

Since this got long, more thoughts under the cut

And, like -- there's so many layers to this shoot? So many ways to read this as an utter fucking power move, and I'm just. Really touched.

So. Layer one is kind of what I pulled from the art earlier, saying, "you may get to see us be intimate and close, barely hidden behind a glass door (= lack of privacy), but at the end of the day, we decide how much we share. And even if you get these intimate glimpses, you do not get all of me (= him half-hidden behind his hair and/or Nace)"

So what do we glimpse? Well, that's where it gets delicious imo. Because it could be read as non-sexual and non-romantic, so just platonic. Non-sexual intimacy is still pretty rarely portrayed, especially between men, and that goes double for non-romantic intimacy. And so as someone on the aroace-spectrum, that speaks to me so so much.

it's also such a fuck you against Toxic Masculinity -- that they can be this vulnerable together, that they don't mind showing -- that they're actually showing off to -- the world that they're this vulnerable with each other. Just. Intimacy and trust and closeness; laughing together and seeing each other and presenting a united front against the world (= the viewer).

I've long-since wondered if Nace is Jan's emotional support bassist -- if they're each other's comfort people, which would track with them doing this shoot together, presenting themselves in front of the camera together. "I'm doing this, putting myself out there, because with you by my side it feels doable."

And just. The fact that it can be read as queer and they clearly don't mind is also stunning regardless of if they are actually queer and/or actually in a relationship. They know what the fandom thinks. They know what this will look like. And yet -- no "no homo", no "bradders"; just unabashed joy in each other's presence and standing together -- and it's not escaped my notice that it's Jan having Nace's back, fixing the camera with a look of, if you touch him, I'll end you.

And if it is an affirmation that they're queer/together? Then holy shit, what a power move.

Just. I think this is a piece of art that's really resonating because I can see myself in so many of these layers and that's just so powerful. Damon is a pretty good photographer, from what I've picked up, and so I think this is not an accident; I think this series of photos confirms exactly as much and as little as he wants it to. And in the gaps in between, which I understand is something art does, we have space to see ourselves and engage with the artwork in our own ways.

Because at the end of the day, as raw and as candid as these shots look, this isn't an unfiltered version of them. It is them, at least in part, but it's art. It's a performance. It's something we can construct narratives out of (which, probably surprising no one, is something I really enjoy), but we're still engaging with the performance, not the real people underneath. But it still takes guts to give yourself over to that performance, and that is what might move me the most, gorgeous and stunning pictures and all.

The fact that they stepped forward and said, "This is us. Make of it what you will."

[microwave-core]

If I asked you to give me some wedding Leon headcanons, would you? Pretty please 🥺

This is from July 4th I'm so sorry anon. Leon wedding headcanons be upon ye.

Jesus I wrote this in my drafts and hit save and it didn't immediately update and I just thought I lost it and would have to rewrite it

Alright, first things first. Leon wants a small, private wedding. More than half of his life has been spent in the spotlight. Privacy is a rare commodity for him, and he'll fight tooth and nail to keep the most important day of his life hidden from the public eye. It's about him and you, baby, not about the paparazzi or tabloids.

The guest list will be small, just family and friends. Probably in a small place in the countryside, away from the public's prying eyes. He's a farm boy at his core, reconnecting with his roots.

Despite his desire for privacy, it's only a matter of time before pictures get out. The public already knew about your engagement, and are incredibly disappointed that they won't be privy to, what they describe as, the wedding of the century. Thankfully for them, a certain social media addict is in attendance-

Yeah, Raihan ends up leaking photos from your wedding. It's not on purpose, prommy. It's expected, and as much as Leon wants his privacy for just one day, he loves Raihan too much to cut him from the invite list. Thankfully, the only photos that get out look good.

Honestly, Leon doesn't care that much about the décor. He knows his sense of style isn't... the best. He doesn't mind that fact, it's just how he is. He cares about getting married to you, that's all. He'll give his opinion when prompted, but he's more than happy to let you pick whatever you want. You could pick the gaudiest color scheme, the most abysmal floral arrangements, and the worst venue known to man, and he'd think it's perfect because it was all hand picked by you. Man is down bad.

Again, his only real input is having the ceremony at a small venue. Somewhere outdoors in the country side, or maybe in a barn. The specifics don't matter to him.

Raihan would definitely be his best man, followed by Sonia, his childhood bestie, and Charizard, because it's Leon what else do you expect. They hype him up, especially during the leadup to the actual ceremony. He won't admit it to you, but he was sweating bullets when waiting. He knows you love him dearly, but can't help but worry, you know?

In terms of attire, he dresses rather normally. Just a simple white suit, likely with a yellow tie. I saw someone headcanon yellow as his favorite color once, and it stuck with me. He even ditches his hat for the day, his hair instead braided elegantly.

You could literally wear a trash bag for your attire and he'd love you all the same. It doesn't matter how you're dressed-whether you wear a dress or suit, traditional or out there-he'll find you breathtaking all the same. He tries his best to hold back his tears when you walk down the aisle, only letting a few fall. He's so unbelievably lucky to have you.

The reception doesn't particularly matter to him, either. He does enjoy himself, being surrounded by the people that matter the most to him, around his loved one's without putting up a face for once. It's liberating for him, actually, but his eyes always find their way back to you, as if trying to sear your image into his mind.

Perhaps the best part of the whole event, aside from getting married to you, obviously, is the fact that none of his friends make fun of him for how hopelessly in love he is. On any other day, they would poke fun at him, teasing him gently for the warmth in his eyes and stupid grin that comes onto his face when he spots you, but his wedding day is different. He's more than allowed to think of nothing except for how much he absolutely positively adored you, on lookers be damned.

He's got two left feet when it comes to dancing. He's bad at it. Laughably so. And no amount of practice can truly fix that fact. He'll stumble, step on your toes a few times, forget the next steps more than once, but he can't be bothered to feel embarrassed about it. Slow dancing with you is a dream for him, makes it feel like there's no one else in the world but the pair of you. He might cry again, holding you in his arms, having officially tied the knot. Wipe away his tears with a gentle touch, and he might somehow fall for you even harder.

In general, Leon would pretty much let you do whatever you want for your wedding, both ceremony and reception. He doesn't care, tailor it to your preferences, it's already going to be the best day of his life, knowing you're happy with everything just makes everything so much better.

Your ring can be whatever you want it to be. Leon doesn't have a budget, no amount of money is too much for him, not when it comes to you. I imagine his ring would be pretty plain, a simple gold band. If he's still champion, he ends up taking it off fairly frequently, not wanting it to get dirty and smudged during battles. In his chairman era, it's on 24-7.

Make no mistake, though, he will let the public know how much he loves being your husband. If he had the choice, he would talk about you in every single interview, simply gushing with praise. No force on Earth could ever make him feel ashamed for loving you.

Similarly, the honeymoon can happen wherever you want. As long as he's with you, he's happy. He is restricted by time, however, he can't be gone for too long, unfortunately. You can stay in Galar, or go to any other region, to do any activity your pretty mind could dream of. (Although, if you asked him where he wanted to go, he'd probably say Alola.)

I can't promise he won't get into battles on the actual trip. I can actually almost guarantee that he will. He can't help it, battling is his passion in life. He does spend most of the time glued to your side, though, wanting to spend as much time with you as humanly possible before having to go back to the regular grind of life.

I do think Leon and Cynthia are a bit similar, hence why I think their weddings would be similar, with the shedding of tears at the altar and whatnot. That is to say, on your wedding night, you will be getting dicked down. Lovingly. Leon just wants to show you how much he loves you, and, after a long day surrounded by other's, professing his love directly to your face, the best way to do that is with his action. Specifically, action involving his dick-

[meraki-yao]

TN Candies Part 2

HI! I’m back with more candies to share :D

Part 1

Again, preface for precaution, but it’s the exact same stuff as last time, so if you know it and you’re okay with it, feel free to cut the chase and go straight to the main event under the cut.  

1, This post contains content regarding real-person shipping. If you’re uncomfortable with the subject, again, please don’t read under the post

2, I don’t have all the candies because I really just view them in passing, so I’m just gonna write/translate the ones I’ve seen, remember and find at least a logical speculation

3, I need to reiterate this in case my position in this gets misunderstood: Me writing about “candies” isn’t because these are MY opinion or things *I* found or *I* believe in them being evidence. I am just a translator and messenger.

4, Chinese people have a very difference understanding of platonic/romantic affection/relationships compared to the Western world, and that they look at the candies with rose-tinted glass. Chinese/Asian people are generally a lot less affectionate with their personal relationships, for example friends wouldn’t say “love you” to each other if they’re just friends, nor would they expand their friend group to the others easily or other stuff. And these people who look for candy go into their “investigation” already with the belief that “they are together”, everything remotely resembling a close relationship will automatically be interpreted as romantic. I thought about it a lot, and honestly among the “candies” I’ve seen, most of them are a matter of interpretation: yes those are things couples will do, but it wouldn’t be weird if friends did it too. So they’re not that seriously or up for further speculation. There is I think only one “candy” that I can’t quite say the same, which I will explain and elaborate on in this post. 

5, Please remember that the people who do this do it in good nature: something I didn’t make clear in my post yesterday, which is on me, is that the fans do want them to be together, but they’re not like… yandere level or something. If they’re just friends the fans won’t be upset or betrayed or anything, they just prefer to see them as romantic. They don’t mean any harm, and they don’t cause any harm because China is physically and digitally too far away for them to actually fuck shit up, and they understand the lines of parasocial relationships: those who met with Taylor during his China trip in December know to, and didn’t bring up this in front of him. They know where to draw the line, and whoever doesn’t and starts becoming a problem gets kicked out of the community. This is meant for fun.

Ok with that being say, main event under the cut:

Lexi Galitzine

Preface for this one, and I cannot emphasise this enough: I did not fact check this one, I don’t follow Lexi on any social media. These are discoveries of the original posters. Please do not disturb Lexi and respect her privacy, especially since she is not a public figure. This is observation and speculation all done in casual, good fun, please respect her and leave her alone.

Starting from 20th December, Lexi Galitzine, Nick’s older and only sister, starting following Taylor on Instagram, which is quite odd since it was past rwrb’s promo period. Even during the promo period, Lexi only liked the rwrb official account’s post on twitter. And it’s her personal account, not her work account, so this is a personal thing.

She then proceeded to like Taylor’s post from the 20th, 23rd , and 29th. All of which are pictures from his China trip, and therefore has nothing to do with Nick.

Lexi is a graphic designer, so she mostly follows artist and designers. For Nick’s co-workers, Lexi only follows two female co-star who are very close to Nick. Taylor’s the first male friend of Nick’s that Lexi followers.

Your Man

As we all know, on Taylor’s birthday, Aneesh posted her (so far) last rwrb photo dump, and among those ones was Taylor and Nick singing together (which was adorable)

They sang “Your Man” together, which is quite a romantic and sweet song if you look at the lyrics

Taylor then commented under the post, and I quote “You recorded Ahahaahhaa”, implying he didn’t know that this was recorded at the time of the video. But… from the video, Aneesh isn’t that far away from the boys, and Taylor’s facing Aneesh, unlike Nick, who was facing Taylor.

(This is fully up to interpretation) There’s such a… vibe between them in that video.  

(To me this is a stretch but) Taylor’s at Nick’s trailer. And if we recall the “OHHH THERE’S THE MOVIE STAR” little video where Nick got all adorably flustered since Taylor filmed Nick getting out of the lift, it means that Taylor was waiting for Nick, and Nick wasn’t surprised to see Taylor, so this has been going on for a while. If there is more than one lift, then Taylor also somehow knows which one Nick’s coming out from. They know each other’s route/place and meet up a lot.

Aneesh posted a video of both of them singing on Taylor’s birthday, and when wishing Taylor happy birthday, she posted that video on her story. It’s Taylor’s birthday, it would have made more sense to post either photos of just Taylor, or Taylor with her, which is what she did for his last birthday.

Nick’s Tiktok

Mentioned this yesterday but I’ll translate it here too: Nick originally followed 83 accounts on Tik Tok. On 11th January 2024, Nick cleared out his following, and only 7 remained: Camila Cabello (Cinderella 2021, Cinderella), Ayo Oedebiri (Bottoms, Josie), Rachel Sennott (Bottoms, PJ), Sio Torley (M&G, Crew), Inez Ella Clark (M&G, Makeup), Cameron Valetina (Model), and Taylor. Taylor is somehow, the only guy remaining.

Among these seven people, Nick mostly likely only introduced Taylor and Camila to Lexi, because Lexi only follows those two on social media

Later Nick followed a 4 generally accounts, but then three days he unfollowed two of those. So he has 9 followings now: 2 content accounts, 6 girl, and Taylor.

Please note that I did not fact check this, and I literally cannot fact check it because Tik Tok is completely unavailable here. Everything I translated is from OP and the screenshots she provided.

I think I’ll leave it there for part 2! Again there is still more, so lemme know if you want a part 3!

Again, this is all in good fun. But after the shit storm yesterday, I kind of wanted to use this to remind people in the rwrb who love them both and are understandably bothered and upset by the haters that the boys are proven to have a good relationship, and this is evidence. Whether these acts are platonic or romantic is none of our business and up to interpretation, but these show that they have a good relationship regardless. Don't let the assholes get to you, and have fun with these :D

Tagging a couple of folks:

@lfg1986-2 @tal-vez-o-quizas @na-18dia @mylucayathoughts @androgynoustriumphclown @hopefulblizzardsublime

[freshfraise]

Mbappe x reader where he is really possessive and angry and jealous. You can come up with the scenario. Maybe something like what u did for Richi 🫶🏼✨

TERRITORIAL

pairing: mbappe x reader

summary: On the day of one of Kylian’s vital matches, speculations cloud the pitch. Both Y/N and Mbappe learn the crucial power of privacy, realising what people don’t know, they can’t ruin.

author’s note: angst!! possessive and jealous mbappe!! honestly i love writing for him!! plus i tried some new things <33. hope u enjoy and sorry for the long wait :) + i imagined blonde kylian whilst writing this

Kylian startles me, as he comes from behind me and wraps his toned arms around my waist. His chin resting on my shoulder, I let out a long exhalation of relief, feeling a wave of serenity among the bustling Parisian lights. I glanced up, staring deeply into the blinking lights that illuminated the city, and then looked back to Kylian, attaching my lips onto his. Today marked our six month anniversary, and Ky decided to bring us back home to celebrate. Paris always had a special fondness in my heart, as it is where I spent the first seven years of my life, where most of my family resided and where I met Kylian. Although our night had to be cut short due to Kylian’s match at Parc des Princes tomorrow, we both made sure to relish each other’s presence to the fullest.

It was rare we had each other to ourselves like this, due to our demanding and famed lifestyles. If I was free, Kylian had training and if he was free, I had a photoshoot. As if this wasn't enough of a hassle of its own, the added factor of secrecy makes things completely infeasible. Disguises, secret locations and body guards were just some of the thousands of precautions taken to ensure our privacy. So far, it worked, as Kylian was being linked to essentially every Woman in Paris except me. No one had the reason to relate the two of us, as to some, I lived in a completely different universe to Kylian Mbappe. And it was all worth it, as despite everything else about us being in the forefront of the public eye, we finally had something that was utterly and wholly ours. Just ours, and only ever ours.

“Je ne me lasserai jamais de ce vue.” (I will never get tired of this view.) I mention, entirely enthralled by the glimmering tower in front of me.

“Moi aussi.” (Me too.) Kylian responds quickly, and I whip my head back to find his stare unreservedly fixated on me instead of the tower. I smile softly, and drop my eyes to the floor attempting to conceal my bashful state. He can obviously see me try to hide my face, as he erupts into a fit of shameless laughter. This only makes me even more coy, as I physically cover myself with my hands to avoid eye contact. I rest my head on his chest, which reverbates as he continues to laugh at my timidity, as he begins to cradle it and kiss my head. His forwardness has always made me feel shy, which was one of things I liked about him.

“Let me take a picture of you.” He asks, staring directly into my dilated irises. I nod as he takes a couple with me doing funny pictures in front of the tower, some idyllic selfies of the two of us and some with my back turned, facing the view. I decided to choose one to upload to my story, appreciative of the views ahead of me.

-

Game day. I made my way towards the stadium, riddled with nerves. As I sit patiently, my phone lights up seeing Ky’s name appear. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, since at a time so close to the game, he would never go on his phone, it was apart of his pre game ritual. I answer hesitantly.

“Y/N,” Mbappe says, and my worry quadruples in size.

“Yes?” I answer, and he lets out a sigh. “Ky, what’s up?”

“Have you checked your phone recently? Or seen your twitter?”

“No? Why? Do I need to?”

“Check your messages.”

Suddenly, I get a notification from Kylian, viewing the attachment he sent me. I gasp.

I go silent, and Kylian understands my thoughts, as he begins calling out my name. That was me and him, on the front cover, kissing, for everyone to see. How did we not know? How could we be so thoughtless?

I tune in to our conversation and listen to what Kylian has to say.

“Listen, there’s good news and bad news.”

“Je pense que la mauvaise nouvelle est très évidente, what’s the good news? (I think that the bad news is very obvious,)

“Your face is not seen in the article, that’s good, right?” He says, attempting to lighten the tone. I giggle at his ridiculous positivity.

“It says undetected not unknown, I already know they are just waiting for the perfect time to say my name.”

“Speaking of that, there’s one more piece of bad news. Check your twitter.”

I sigh, and my Twitter is on the verge of crashing down with the amount of notifications I have. I go to the trending page and view my name in capitals.

“Kylian…”

I tap on the hashtag and see tons of threads and tweets labelled:

A TIMELINE OF Y/N Y/L/N & KYLIAN MBAPPE’S RELATIONSHIP

THE FRENCH IT COUPLE: Y/N AND MBAPPE

Y/N & MBAPPE??? UNDER THE EIFFEL TOWER,, KISSING???

Y/N IS THE GIRL IN THE PHOTO AND HERE’S WHY…

“Oh God.” I blurt out, realising just how bad this situation is.

“Yeah… essayez de ne pas trop vous en soucier, d’accord?” (try not to worry about it too much, okay?) Kylian says with his voice soft and gentle, trying to console me. I realise his game is getting closer, and he needs to focus, not calling me.

“You too. I’ll still be rooting for you in the stands. I love you.” I affirm, not allowing any trivial tabloids, trending hashtags or headlines get into my head.

“Je t’aime plus. (I love you more.) See you later, Ma vie.” (My life.)

Eventually, I reached Parc des Princes. This was the first time I would be going to one of his matches, due to our privacy precautions and coincidentally it was also the first time I went out as ‘Mbappe’s girlfriend.’ Great. We planned out this for months, ensuring that I could still have a good view, whilst still being hidden from the public eye, and now that all went to waste. As soon as I stepped out of the Uber, I heard haunting shutters and clicks of cameras, something which still irked me after all the experience. Mbappe made sure to increase the security, even before this whole situation, so I wouldn’t be bothered by anyone. Three different guards surrounded me, and escorted me to the seats, which, initially I thought was excessive, however now, I’m more grateful than ever. After navigating endless hallways and shortcuts, I finally sat down in my seat. I scan the pitch to find him, and I immediately see him, more unfazed than ever. Seeing him like that makes me feel more confident in turn, so I straighten up my posture, cross my legs, fix my hair and breathe. The whistle blows, and I just pray this match goes well.

Within minutes of the whistle sounding, Kylian is smoothly assisted the ball from Hakimi, before a defender from the other team viciously slide tackles into Mbappe’s ankles. He drops brutally. The crowd roars in anger and the referee whistle is sounded. I jump up instinctually, genuinely stressing. To everyone’s surprise, Mbappe limps up and begins to confront the heated defender. They argue aggressively, foreheads pounding, vicious shouts and boyish shoves and grunts consuming the screen. Just as the teammates from the respective teams begin to diffuse the situation, seemingly reaching a state of stillness, the defender utters something, which was completely unintelligible on the screens, but was clear enough to make Kylian charge towards him again.

Kylian releases himself from his frenzied team mates grasp and dashes towards him. Still provoking him with his comments, Kylian shoves the player with his utmost force and in turn, he drops to the ground immediately, rolling around to finish off the performance. I could tell Ky was extremely, extremely irritated by him, and was on the brink of losing control. The melodramatic player stops rolling around and gets back up, muttering more comments towards him. Kylian finally reaches his edge, as he shoves the player with intense acceleration. The crowd jumped in shock, the game turning into utter chaos as both teams failed to diffuse the situation miserably. The referee swiftly puts a red card above his head, something that Kylian was practically waiting for. He knew what he did was stupid. Before he left, I could make out the words ‘Parlez encore d'elle’, ‘Redis son nom’ and ‘Voir ce qui se passe’.

I could tell he was still angry as he left the pitch, as he ignored consoles from his manager and teammates and headed straight out towards the tunnel leading them back to the changing rooms. Suddenly, I make the executive decision to go, picking up my feet and explaining to bumptious guards that I am perfectly capable of going to the bathroom by myself.

Reaching the hallways, I hear the thump and strikes of objects being hurled around the room laced with a string of unrefined french swears. I breathed out Kylian’s name, before following the sounds as it became increasingly louder. I perceive erratic breathing and I become alarmingly worried at his state. Placing my fingers upon the door, I push outwards revealing the catastrophic conditions of the changing room. I see him, sitting on the floor against a disfigured locker door. His head hung back, facing the ceiling and his eyes pinched shut, as if he was trying to erase something from his mind. I murmur his name from under my breath, and he looks up at me, prolonging unfeigned eye contact. I begin to make my way towards him, before Kylian jumps up and moves back from me. I frown, puzzled but nonetheless I remain immobile maintaining a gut wrenching distance.

“Ky, qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?”(What’s wrong?) I ask gently, tilting my head and giving him further inspection. I glance down to his knuckles, bruised and red. “Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé là-bas?” (What happened down there?) My voice slowly started to become less and less unfaltering as it grew with concern.

He shakes his head and compresses his lips together, his hands placed firmly on his hips. He starts pacing around the room, opening up and closing his mouth in an attempt to formulate a sentence. Seeing him this anxiety-ridden makes my heart pound with sympathy, so in a couple strides, I come towards Kylian and grab his attention. I cup his face, staring into his dilated irises. I see flicks of hesitation scan his face, before I begin to calm him down.

“I love you. You can trust me.” I reassure him, as his broad shoulders slowly become less uptight.

“I know I can. C'est moi, en qui je n'ai pas confiance..” (It's me, who I don't trust.) He mutters shamefully, expressing the extent of his anger.

“Well I do. I trust you completely.”

Kylian heaves, before his attentive glare left mine and watched the walls. “He- They know about you. He was talking about you on the pitch. The whole team.” I sigh, before softly dropping my hands from his face. He notices this, as he grabs my hands to hold them before they fall against my sides.

“What did they say?”

His head hangs low, and his gaze meets the floor. I look up at him searching for the eye contact I desire, but his eyes remain glued to the ground. “Ky-” I’m cut off as he looks back at me.

“First they said you were pretty. They kept saying your name, congratulating me for getting someone as sexy as you. Afterwards, they began to threaten me about how I need to get up from the ground so I won’t embarrass you. Then one of them started to talk about how they can treat you better. That they can fuck you better than me. When I pushed him down, his teammates started to say the same thing, saying your name, imitating you, moaning. It was disgusting and I’m sorry that you-”

I connect my lips onto his, overwhelmed. It felt like the only correct answer at the moment, as Kylian’s temper was rising by the minute. His resentment translated into ardent concupiscence, as his hands shifted against my body frantically. His hands in my hair, and my arms linked around his shoulders. I hoped my appreciation for him was communicated. A million thoughts condensed into one single moment.

I slowly detach my lips from him, as our foreheads touch. Trying to regain my breathing, I still see Ky’s eyes closed and his lips pressed together. Eventually, his eyes flutter open and I begin to laugh at his state. Face flushed, red lipstick staining his lips it was truly a heavenly sight. As our laughs reverberated against the changing room, he grabbed my waist and pressed it towards him in a snug embrace. After a few beats of silence, I place my chin on his chest to look up, “Is it bad to say I like it when you’re jealous?” He looks down and furrows his eyebrows. His dimple pops up as he talks, “I wasn’t jealous.” I laugh at his denial, because clearly his actions presented differently.

“So getting a four match ban isn’t a result of your jealousy?” I remark snarkily as Kylian pouts, slightly saddened by my words. I laugh quietly to myself, before I apologise profusely and kiss the tip of his nose.

He continues to plead his case saying “Je ne suis pas jaloux, je suis territorial. (I am not jealous, I am territorial.) Jealousy is when you want something that’s not yours, and I was just protecting what’s already mine.”

-