#( just imagine how different it would have been )
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checkeredflagggs · 2 days ago
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Scavenger Hunt
pairing: max verstappen x girlfriend!reader
summary: fans are baffled when they spot max verstappen running about Monaco on Valentine’s Day — what’s causing him such panic?
a/n: inspired by the upcoming baby verstappen and little Donut
a/n2: I know there’s a typo in one of the texts but I didn’t want to rewrite that so imagine there isn’t please
Masterlist | Taglist
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Private Messages, Max and y/n
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Bluesky
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user1: it’s so early and on Valentine’s Day…are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?
↳user2: that he forgot to get y/n something and is now rushing around last minute?
↳user1: yup!
user3: it’s so fun to see celebrities act just like regular people
user4: just how early is it over there
↳user5: extremely. I honestly have no idea what he’s doing up right now
user6: early, rushing around, and he’s still kind enough to smile at people…
↳user7: I have no idea how people think he’s a villian
↳user8: right? He’s just a little pookie
Private Messages, Max and y/n
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Private Messages, Lando and y/n
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Bluesky
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user9: another max spotting!
user10: he must have completely forgotten about Valentine’s Day…
user11: wild thoughts thrown into the universe but…are they even still dating??
↳user12: what??
↳user11: neither of them have posted anything about each other in months. By this point in winter break last year, there was like 100 photos of what they were doing and where they were going…
↳user12: omg don’t even say such thing again…
↳user13: ohhh you have a point. I don’t like it but you have a point…
user14: was he up at the crack of dawn or something??
↳user15: that’s what I was wondering…
user16: ok but where was he going in such a hurry??
↳user17: I saw him today! He was ducking into a local bakery and he came out empty handed about 2 minutes later
↳user16: he’s rushing about at the crack of dawn to go to bakeries???
Private Messages, Max and y/n
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Private Messages, Charles (and Alex) and y/n
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Private Messages, Max and y/n
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Bluesky
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user18: I saw him this time!
↳user19: well?
↳user18: another bakery and this time he came out with a bag from them. He was still in a rush
↳user19: interesting interesting 🤔
user20: he’s been spotted all over Monaco hasn’t he?
↳user21: At least 4 different locations now yes!
↳user20: have they all been bakeries?
↳user21: as far as we know yes
Private Messages, Max and y/n
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Bluesky
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user22: he looks so good!
↳user23: he always does… y/n is so lucky…
user24: was it another bakery?
↳user25: it was!
↳user19: hmmmm
user26: did he answer any questions while he was signing?
↳user27: he was chatting with us!
↳user28: did you get anything interesting from him?
↳user27: thankfully he’s still dating y/n — he was laughing because apparently she had ordered donuts from a bakery last night but forgot which one so he’s out and about trying to track them down
↳user28: awwww
↳user19: 📝📝📝
user19: I have a theory!
↳user29: is it completely crazy and out there?
↳user19: no! Well maybe! But I have some proof!
↳user29: oh no…
user19
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liked by user, user, user, and 21,823 others
user19: I believe that y/n, Max Verstappen's girlfriend, is pregnant! Facts!
1 — these are the last photos she posted of herself before she went into a soft blackout (she’s only posted a couple of congratulations for Max and the McLaren boys near the end of the season). Those clothes and that pose? Classic for hiding pregnancy — and it even looks like she has a bump in that last one
2 — Max's store has a host of new baby items (cute af and I’ve already ordered some for my nieces and nephews). Why would he seemingly spontaneously start to carry baby stuff? Cause he’s got a kid on the way
3 — the last couple streams Max has done, he’s talked about legacy and the future. Not the strongest evidence but both Max and y/n have said in the past that they’d like to have a kid or 2 when they get more settled in their lives
4 — Max’s behavior today. Rushing all about various bakeries? That just screams pregnancy cravings — I bet that y/n sent him out to get something specific and he was trying to find it/them
In conclusion, y/n is pregnant and I think she’s pretty far along — and they’re trying to hide it
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user30: oh my god…
↳user31: baby verstappen incoming!
user32: holy shit…
↳user33: I don’t know what to say here
↳user32: I do! user19 you’re crazy
↳user19: just because I’m right doesn’t mean I’m crazy!!!
user34: I don’t think I’ve wanted anything to be more true in my life…
↳user35: big mood
user36: this is such a stretch but god do I want it to be true
Private Messages, Max and y/n
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Private Messages, Lando and Charles and y/n
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Private Messages, Max and y/n
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maxverstappen1
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 2,913,923 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: our little family is growing — this is Donatello. Thank you yourusername for the wonderful Valentine’s Day surprise!
And baby Verstappen is coming Spring 2025
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user37: WHAT???
↳user38: it’s just like max to showcase his cats first…
↳user37: well baby Donatello came to the house before baby Verstappen liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1
yourusername: awww I’m glad you like little Donatello
↳yourusername: and that you didn’t mind me sending you all over the place this morning
↳user39: did you really send him on a goose chase today?
↳yourusername: well I had to get him out of the apartment somehow and pregnancy cravings are a good catch all 😂
↳maxverstappen1: schatje…
↳yourusername: you love me really
↳yourusername: and i had to come up with something when you heard me talking about Donut…
↳user39: awww is his nickname Donut?
↳yourusername: no
↳maxverstappen1: yes
↳charles_leclerc: yes 😊
↳yourusername: ugh
oscarpiastri: congrats on the new additions
↳yourusername: thanks Oscar!
charles_leclerc: you’re welcome for helping!
↳yourusername: thanks again Charles!
↳maxverstappen1: yes thank you
↳charles_leclerc: ☺️☺️
↳yourusername: oh yeah max he wants godfather liked by charles_leclerc
landonorris: and i don’t get any thanks for helping?
↳user40: threesome??
↳maxverstappen1: what
↳landonorris: no no no I helped hide the new cat
↳yourusername: ewww no. He hid some of the extra cat supplies for me in an effort to bag godfather
↳maxverstappen1: say goodbye to the potential godfather title
↳landonorris: FUCK
↳charles_leclerc: HA!
user19: I WAS RIGHT!! liked by user53
Taglist
@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @coral7161 @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @Voidvannie @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @elizamoe133 @imlonelydontsendhelp @jessica3478 @il0vereadingstuff
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plethorawrites · 2 days ago
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Hey, so imagine Jason with a reader whose parents are simply the most loving beings in the universe, like R's father taught him basic things that neither Bruce nor his biological father could (like how to fix a broken sink, how to assemble a cabinet and even love advice) and R's mother was practically like a mother to him (visiting them regularly even when her daughter is not home, bringing soup when they know he is sick and helping him choose Valentine's Day gifts for the reader).
This may be the cutest prompt I've ever received. I love soft Jason soooo much!! (I fear I am not out of my obsession stage yet.)
---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_
Jason Todd obviously grew up with few to no parental guidance and when he got it, it was more often than not negative like manipulation and abuse or neglect.
So, when he meets his girlfriend's parents he's understandably extremely nervous. From what you've told him, they're sweet. But he knows perception can change quickly and let's be real, he's not the good, kind-hearted person anyone would want for their daughter, in his opinion.
That said, when he does meet them for the first time and your mom envelopes him in the biggest hug he's received aside from you (a chronic cuddler, which he's come to appreciate.) he's a little stunned for the moment. It takes him a minute to even remember how to speak to introduce himself.
This man, all 6'2 and 240 pounds of him, actually seems shy for a moment, trying to make a good impression. You find it adorable when his cheeks blush after your mom compliments him on all the nice things you've told them about him. He didn't even know you bragged about him to people, let alone the extent of it. Like yeah, sure, you showered him in affection all the time, but that was at his apartment or yours.
The fact that you had actually mentioned him often enough that they knew about some of his quirks— his disdain for fish because Bruce made him eat it all the time as a kid at fancy events until he couldn't stand it anymore and his desire to meet for dinner not lunch since he had an obscure sleep schedule because of his "job" was astounding to him.
Even though they couldn't know what it was, you still boasted about how he was very passionate about it and you were proud of him for how hard he worked. That, admittedly, made him blush a little harder.
"She says you've got late hours, I hope dinner won't interfere," your mom would tell him considerately.
He shook his head. "No ma'am. I don't work until later."
She beamed. "Well good, then, because we've been dying to meet you."
Even the things about him that he assumed most parents wouldn't be thrilled to hear about, yours didn't seem to mind.
"You grew up in crime Alley, right?" Your father was questioned, in between the salad and entree.
Jason swallowed. There it was, he assumed. The disapproval he was anticipating. "Yes, I did," he replied, nodding.
"It's a difficult area to grow up in," your father noted. "A very close friend of mine was born over there. He's as tough as they come. Very resilient and reliable."
Jason was taken by surprise. "Uh- yeah, yes. I suppose you learn to be loyal when you don't have many people to trust." He internally cursed himself for saying that. It was too dark and pessimistic.
"An admirable quality," your mother said sincerely as you squeezed his hand under the table. "It must have also exposed you to a lot of different types of people and given you a very broad outlook on life."
He just nodded, swallowing some of his water.
Your father had similarly commented that he seemed to have a great work ethic, which Jason clearly appreciated and considered important. Your dad also, at the end of dinner, when you were out of ear range, made a quiet remark to Jason about how he seemed to make you very happy and that's all he ever wanted for his daughter. Jason had been expecting shovel talk or threats. At the very least, judgemental stares, the way he was used to, but instead your parents were absolutely lovely.
And it very clearly wasn't some temporary ruse, either, like he thought it might have been. They really were good people, just like you. When you moved in with him, your parents helped the two of you pack your old apartment and unpack in his. Your mom even insisted on cooking dinner since the two of you were exhausted from all the moving. He would never say no to her cooking, since aside from Alfred's, it was the best he'd ever had.
It was only a few weeks later, in the middle of summer, when your air conditioner broke down. It was Gotham, so obviously it was hot as hell. And of course no one was reliable when it came to actually coming to fix it. Your father, however, was used to fixing things and came over when you casually mentioned it to him after it was broken for a week or two.
He was about halfway through with it when Jason came home and he immediately felt bad just letting him, so your dad pointed towards some tool and asked him for some help.
"I don't really know how to fix an AC. Vehicles are more my thing," he confessed, lifting a wrench to his hand.
Your dad shrugged. "Not that hard. I'll show you."
Jason glanced at where you were sitting at the table with a glass of lemonade, giving him a light shrug. "Okay, sure," he muttered, rolling up his sleeves.
Jason liked to think the two of you had a pretty solid relationship, as far as honesty and commitment went. He loved you, he was almost positive by the time you'd been dating 15 months that he wanted to marry you.
But you still, occasionally, fought the way all couples did. And when you did, it was usually because he struggled to keep plans or left you waiting up for him, only to come home desperately needing stitches.
The worst it ever got was when he deliberately lied to you, swearing he'd stay out of something dangerous and going straight into danger the second he could. Even though nothing that bad actually happened, you were more than a little angry. In fact, during the screaming match you had, he could swear he saw the exact moment your heart broke when you told him you thought he cared more about being Red Hood than he did about you.
You left for hours. Four of them.
And when he heard a knock at the door, he was hopeful it was you, having forgot your keys. Instead, it was your mom. His heart dropped, wondering what she was doing there—planning to yell at him for how he treated you, grabbing some things for you so you could stay away for several days, breaking up with him on your behalf.
All she did was invite herself in, making some coffee (just the way she knew he liked it) and sitting on the couch with him. He was confused and silent, until she spoke up.
"She's not saying what the fight was about," she told him. "I assume it's your work. The uh-... nightly aspect of it?"
He blinked a little. Something about her tone was more suggestive than he liked. "It- partially, yeah," he admitted. "I didn't mean to break my promise."
She nodded. "I know," she muttered. "And I don't think she's mad, just...scared. She doesn't want to lose you."
"She won't," Jason replied instantly.
Your mom's lips quirked into a small smile. "Then tell her that," she suggested, adding that: "Trust is fragile. It takes a long time to build it and a single action can shatter it." She patted his knee, standing up and he stood too, walking her to the door.
"Why do I have a feeling you know what the fight was about, even without her telling you?" He asked quietly if not with some suspicion.
"You're a very good man, Jason," she told him. "But it doesn't take a genius to know why those hours you work are so obscure." Before he could question or deny what he felt she already knew, she was giving him a small kiss on the cheek, the way she often did to greet and say goodbye. "Call her," she said. "I'll make sure she picks up."
So he did. And you did answer, like she promised.
You made up, like always and it wasn't even six months later that he was calling your parents, asking for blessing to propose to you. Of course they said yes and we're thrilled to do so. Your mom even helped him pick out the ring. Which took hours, half because he couldn't decide and half because she kept starting to cry.
When he finally did find the right one, she naturally helped him plan the proposal, too. He wasn't always the greatest at romantic gestures. At least not grand ones. He was always better at the subtle shows of affection—remembering dates and details or taking care of you when you're sick. He doesn't want to do anything overwhelming, but filling the apartment with twinkling lights and telling you—with several tears in his eyes—how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, is plenty for you.
"Yes?" He repeats, almost in disbelief that you'd agreed so quickly to marry him.
"Yes, yes, obviously," you repeated, sniffling to keep from crying as you gave him your hand, letting him slip the ring on your finger.
His arms immediately enveloped you, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around like you weighed nothing. Setting you down, his lips found yours for a deep, long kiss, before pressing his forehead against yours and nuzzling your nose.
"I love you so much," he repeated, even though he'd said it three times already.
He already saw plenty of your parents, at least four or five times a month, but it seems like he sees them nearly everyday when the wedding planning starts. Your mom is more concerned with invitations and linens or vows while your dad really just shows up for cake tasting, or trying the catering companies. Not to mention to judge and criticize the venue options.
Still, they're there more than his own father figure is, sort of like they have been since he met them. They're there on your wedding day, crying in the front row when he uses his love of literature to craft was perhaps the most beautiful wedding vows ever recorded. They're there to take care of your apartment when you're on your honeymoon, coming to water the plants and collect the mail, not to mention stock the fridge before you get back.
They're there for your birthday and his, as well as Thanksgiving and Christmas. They're there to help prepare for the baby when you eventually have kids, your mom by soothing Jason's nerves and your dad by helping him paint the nursery or assemble furniture. They're there after the baby is born and visit whenever you need a babysitter for a few hours or even days to spend time together.
They're there, he realizes. They're there and he loves that, not just for you or for the baby, but for himself too. For the little kid inside him that never fully felt like any adults around him truly had his best interests at heart.
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vampzity · 3 days ago
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1-800-hot & fun | BC
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★ DAY TWELVE: PHONE SEX WITH BANGCHAN ★
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pairing: best friend! bangchan x f! reader
after a long day of studio work, bangchan just wants to relax. except all he can think about is you. he tries to take care of it, only to get a call from you with complaints about the day you had. little did you know how much your voice turned him on.
[warnings]: MDNI 18+ !!!, smut, drabble, phone sex, masturbation, mentioning of circulation play, reader has no idea what chan’s doing, pet names (baby, babygirl)
word count: 1.4k
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Bangchan sighed to himself as he leaned back in his chair, head thrown back with his eyes closed. He held his throbbing cock in his hand, jerking it softly as he scrolled through the countless photos he had of you.
They weren’t anything lewd, in fact it was far from that. Simply normal selfies you took and sent to him for his opinion on which to post.
He was beyond exhausted from today’s work in the studio, just wanting to wind down a bit before he took to the road. Though his mind was racing with sensual thoughts of you and it wouldn’t stop.
You two weren’t together— in fact he wasn’t even sure if you liked him, but he knew one thing for sure. Bangchan had the biggest crush on you, he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He wasn’t sure if he was being obvious about it, though one may say so with how possessive he was about you when the rest of the boys were around.
He scrolled through every photo of you, landing on a couple of pictures from your modeling gig. You had on light pink lingerie, lace that sat nicely upon your curves. The positions the camera caught you in were vulnerable, unlike anything he’s ever seen before. It was everything he imagined you to be.
Innocent and sexy.
Your doe eyes stared into his as he worked his angry cock, groaning at the thought of your plump lips around his tip. The way it would feel for you to suck him off as cum leaked out of him. How well he would train you to take his size into your mouth, the tears that would run down your cheek from his tip hitting the back of your throat.
He scrolled to the side, seeing a close up of your body in the lace outside. His eyes widened, heart racing as your tits sat nicely in the cupped bra, your cunt making a small pint in the fabric. The way the babydoll casted a slight shadow of your silhouette.
Bangchan was practically in heaven, his hand fastening its pace around his cock. He could feel himself about to burst at any moment, until he felt his phone buzz in his hand. Startled he quickly shoved his member into his pants and answered, clearing his throat to mask his previous situation.
“Hello?”
“Channie! You wouldn’t believe the type of day I’ve been having.”
Chan smiled at hearing your voice, as it’s been a while since you two have talked at all from your mix of busy schedules.
“Hey babygirl, what’s up?”
You scoffed on your side of the phone, rolling your eyes at his personal nickname for you.
“Well I got to the studio for my modeling gig and my coffee just fell!! It tasted perfect too like how upsetting is that,”
He listened to you ramble on, feeling his dick twitch in his pants as his mind started to race with thoughts of you once again. He thought about you in different types of lingerie, imagining how nicely your body must fit into them this time around.
He pulled his member from his pants, his tip leaking as it ached to be touched. He stroked it softly, throwing his head back in pleasure as he tried his best not to be heard.
“And if that wasn’t enough, my makeup is so splotchy. I think i’ll have to redo it too!”
Bangchan tightened his grip on his cock, fastening his strokes as he listened to your complaining whines. He tried his best to focus to what you were saying, but his mind was fogged with dirty thoughts of you. Dirty thoughts of you all over him, of him ripping that little lingerie off of you.
“Mmm, I’m sorry to hear that baby.”
A soft moan escaped him, making him freeze up in hopes that you didn’t hear him.
“Everything ok, Channie? Was it a rough day in the studio?”
He chuckled to himself slightly, his thumb rubbing across his leaky opening. He began stroking his cock again, twisting his hand with the motion.
“Yeah, yeah.” he panted heavily, watching as his cock leaked some more. “But hearing your voice made it better.”
You blushed softly, taking your phone and posing in the mirror. You took a picture of today’s outfit— one of many that you’d be wearing and sent it to Bangchan, eager for his reaction.
“What do you think? Too slutty?”
His jaw practically dropped at seeing you. His ears grew red, feeling as if the room was heating up from seeing you in such an outfit. The black polkadots weren’t nearly enough to cover how see through it was as your nipples still peeked through.
Bangchan stopped himself from groaning outloud, struggling to keep his composure toward you.
“You look beautiful as always.” He leaned over his desk, spotting your hair tie next to his computer.
He grabbed it, closing his eyes as he vowed to never give it back to you again. Especially not after what he was about to do. He placed the hair tie on his cock, a long sigh leaving his lips as it tightened around his length.
“Should model for me, yeah?”
“Huh? What do you mean?” you raised your eyebrow, unaware of what he meant. Chan quickly caught himself, trying to cover up the sultry meaning behind his sentence.
“My company, I mean you should model for my company.”
You laughed, going on a tangent about all the things wrong with his entertainment. As much as he’d like to listen, he just couldn’t. He was too drunk on the thought of you and your body in this newfound picture. Your pussy barely covertly the small piece of fabric, your tits practically spilling out of your bra.
He stroked faster, quicker, not stopping his movement as his cock throbbed in his hand. With every throb, every time it tried to swell, he could feel himself getting closer as your hair tie held him back.
And of course, you were still as oblivious to what was going on.
Bangchan quickly muted himself, setting his phone down as he groaned out in pleasure. His precum drooled down the side of his cock as he thrusted into his hand.
“Fuck, fuck baby.” he admired your picture once more before throwing his head back.
“Gotta cum all over that pretty face of yours one day.”
His groans soon fell into whimpers as he stroked faster. Your hair tie was suffocating him, making it harder for him to hold himself back. He imagined you in his head; thinking of you riding his cock while your tits bounced in front of his eyes.
He imagined how it would feel for your cunt to suffocate his dick in the same way while it pounded your sweet spot. He wondered how your sweet sounds would be, how much you’d beg as his tongue toyed with your swollen clit.
“Fuck, I would stuff you so good.”
That was all it took.
Within seconds his hand was covered in cum, dripping onto the chair as he slowed his strokes. His breath was staggered, heart racing and shaking ad he tried to bring himself back to reality.
“Channie?”
Oh fuck.
He quickly cleaned himself off, picking up the phone to answer you.
“I’m sorry.. I was trying to focus on this track we’ve been working on.”
He heard a small laugh come from the other end of the phone, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion as he tried to figure out what you could be laughing for.
“Yeah, and I bet you didn’t notice you were unmuted either, huh?”
His heart sank and his face flushed red. He froze, unsure of what to say to you as he was beyond embarrassed. You had no idea— maybe not even a thought of Bangchan ever liking you, as you always thought he’d seen you as a close friend.
Funny, since he had thought the same.
“You don’t have to apologize Channie.” you looked at the time on your phone, realizing you had to start your shoot soon.
“Maybe when I’m done here,” You bit your lip, thinking of the lewd sounds you heard coming from his end of the phone.
“I can stop by your place and give you what you want.”
Bangchan instantly agreed, his cock itching at the thought of being able to feel you, be in you. You giggled, sending him a farewell and hanging up the phone. His phone lit up with the precious picture of you in your lingerie, a small smile creeping onto his face.
He was about to see you dressed like this in person, right before his eyes and it would take everything in him not to rip it off of you.
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back to valentine’s masterlist
a/n: day 12, this is a short one! if you haven’t noticed a change in the masterlist…. i’m planning some bonus days as a thank you to those who showed so much support to my series! :3
taglist: @dvrktvnnel @h4untedgrl @rvereri @scarfac3 @jjongibears @kittykat-25 @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @tiredlittlevirgo @joonezra @honeyhwaaa @evidive @potentialgay @dollywoo @losrpark @motherseonghwa23 @inniesfanblog @stephanieeeyang @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub @bluesungology @katsukis1wife @unbel1ve4ble
★ comment to be added to the taglist or fill the detailed form here!
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Text
A little while ago I wrote a little something about that. I just finished translating it into english. Here are my thoughts:
Wimp
Thoughts on the patriarchy and why this crap sucks for men too
Queen Energy
I mindlessly let Instagram videos wash over my mind. A sketch wakes me from my pleasant torpor:
A woman dressed in a negligee talks to her husband. She orders him to have sex with her immediately. He says he is tired, he has just come home from work. He doesn't feel like it either. She is not interested. She becomes more direct and aggressive in her statements and demands. All of this culminates in her forcibly shoving a cookie into his mouth, repeating her order and expectantly marching off towards the bedroom.
The comment column is rolling with laughter, congratulates the woman and agrees with her demands. The comments reads something like:
"Her story, her rules, her empire." "Queen energy! This is the vibe we all need!" "Taking what's hers like it was always meant to be"
She should take what she needs; her husband should be a real guy and get it for his wife if and when she wants it.
So the point is: he's a wimp if he doesn't put himself and his needs first. He's not a real man because he doesn't jump when his wife is in the mood.
Let's imagine the gender roles reversed. A man comes home and tells his wife to wait for him naked in the bedroom because he wants to have sex. Regardless of her wishes and desires. Most people would find this behavior unacceptable. And rightly so.
Here though, sexual harassment is portrayed as a joke. Neither the producers nor the recipients seem to be fazed by this.
Such scenes suggest that men always have to be ready and willing. This stereotypical expectation completely ignores the fact that men are also people with boundaries who want to say "yes" or "no". However, in our society - as the comments column impressively shows - they are often denied this choice. Men are not even given the opportunity to prioritize their own wishes because their "yes" is taken for granted. If they do try to set boundaries, they are met with a lack of understanding, rejection, ridicule or even violence. This creates a burden that is subtle but always present.
The video and its comments make fun of a man whose freedom of choice over his own body has been taken away, making him yet another victim of patriarchy and toxic masculinity.
First naked and then alone in the corridor
I was 12 when my mother drove me and my ten-year-old sister to our pediatrician. Everything started as business as usual. The doctor asked us general questions, she took our blood pressure and did what doctors do.
Then something happened that I still remember vividly today. As a burgeoning teenager, I had to get naked from the wais down and lie down on a couch to be examined. My mother and sister both stayed in the room. I was embarrassed. I found it downright agonizing.
The doctor plucked at my penis for several minutes. I didn't know where to look. My face turned bright red and my hands got wet. I was suddenly terribly aware of how my kneecaps felt under my skin.
Then it was finally over.
But now it became particularly irritating: it was my sister's turn. She was facing something similar - with one important difference. I was asked to leave.
Don't get me wrong, I had no interest in participating in my sister's gynecological exam. I just wished that the same consideration had been given to me, a little boy.
My feelings were not ignored, no. No one here had even bothered to take an interest in whether I had any. I was treated with the same respect as the couch in the treatment room. The question of my dignity was about as important as that of the desk.
But that was nothing new for a 12-year-old. After all, I learned to swallow my feelings before I even started elementary school.
"Are you a man or a mouse"?
Of course I'm a man, I'm already four! I suppress every feeling that my environment deems too much or inappropriate.
I've learned that „Indians don't cry.“* Neither do boys. I'm not supposed to make such a fuss and pull myself together.
It eats into your brain. It stays. For almost 40 years and it's still there.
How my tongue got bitten
My aunt was celebrating her sixtieth birthday. The whole thing ended in her favorite pub. We danced, sang, drank and enjoyed ourselves. I chatted with old acquaintances on the edge of the dance floor.
Suddenly, a woman snuck up on me. She started to dance at me aggressively. I found it quite flattering at first. The stranger danced very closely with me, focusing only on me. She made me feel wanted.
But after a while I became uncomfortable. She took it for granted that I would return her advances. She waited for me in front of the toilet. She gave me no opportunity to move without her. She put her arms around me and kissed me on the dance floor.
I didn't want to be seen like this by my family. It was impossible to talk to my friends, my aunt was at the other end of the pub. I told the stranger that I wanted to talk to my family, but she wouldn't let go of me. I spoke to friends, but she pushed her way in.
I could have said "No!" at any time, walked away and enjoyed my evening, sure. But I have internalized the lessons of my youth: my feelings are not important and I have to make my body available, regardless of my own wishes.
I only plucked up the courage to tear myself away when the stranger bit my tongue painfully, because: I didn't kiss her the way she wanted me to.
But even then, at the end of the night, my "No, I don't want that anymore" was met with a complete lack of understanding. She was offended that I was not responding to her wishes. She had never cared about my consensus or my needs.
I was now in a similar role to the man in the sketch: my feelings were put on the back burner in order to offer a woman what she wanted at that moment.
Neither the lady in the sketch nor the stranger at the pub inquired about the wishes of the men in question. None of them asked for consensus. None of them took what they were explicitly told seriously, because they, like all of us, have internalized these toxic patterns of thought and behaviour.
As a farewell, I got a contemptuous "wimp" shouted after me.
And why all this?
I am well aware that the people who suffer most from patriarchy are, of course, those who do not appear traditionally male to society. Women, intersex and trans people, all non-cis-hetero men, should by no means be ignored here. My perspective, however, is that of a cis-het man.
We men are taught that our feelings are not important. We have to be tough and endure instead of being vulnerable and talking openly about our needs. Our bodies are common property. We learn to accept assault and laugh it off.
• The woman in the negligee wants sex? Then go ahead! No matter what the man wants.
• The boy is ashamed to be looked at naked by three women? He shouldn't behave like that!
• A stranger decides you're her plaything this night? Fuck your wishes and your family!
If we don't conform to the norms, we are wimps. We are considered unmanly. We're not real guys.
We need to recognize the harmful influence of sexism on men.
While patriarchy generally privileges men, it also subjects us to restrictive gender roles that harm us.
Even those who are considered the most powerful in the patriarchal hierarchy suffer from it.
The supposed masters turn themselves into the oppressed.
Toxic masculinity harms us and everyone around us.
Sometimes I do wonder if men actually get sexually assaulted and abused at a similar rate that women do but a lot of them just don’t know that’s what’s happening to them
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yujateaandpi · 3 days ago
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So imagine that you’re on a beach hanging with your brother and saving the world like always then suddenly there’s another version of you— and he just came out of nowhere and you live in a world filled with dangerous magical creatures so of course this must be some kind of shapeshifter trying to get the better of you. Of course, you attack it and he attacks you and both of you keep claiming to be the real version of you. Classic.
So you laugh it off and you ask your brother for help except he keeps saying that the other you is the real one. And the two of them are ganging up and attacking you so you have no choice but to turn around and go back home until this blows over cause let’s face it, your brother isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed and hasn’t always been the best judge of character on your adventures.
So you go home and everything’s just as you left it and it’s a bit of a relief honestly cause the incident on the beach freaked you out. Except your little sibling won’t stop screaming every time they see you. And you can’t taste your favorite foods. And your voice sounds different. And your sense of touch is off. Plus there was a period where you couldn’t hear or speak well on the beach, and all this is starting to accumulate and scare you. And you’re a kid.
So you freak out. You break furniture and you throw around your brother’s good breakfast syrup (cause you’re still angry about him turning against you) and when your brother comes home with the other version of you, still insisting that you’re the monster (which can’t possibly be true. It can’t.) you won’t look him in the eye no matter how angry he gets. But the other you is chill and wants to be your friend or something, which is fine but would be better if he would just give you your bed and your pajamas and your brother back.
So time passes and you begin to accept that you really are the monster after all, because you can’t really deny the fact that you don’t look quite the same. And that you don’t have a digestive tract. And that murder just seems a little more okay than it used to.
So you call yourself by a different name. But it’s still not fair, because before the beach you had a brother and a home and favorite foods and now you don’t have anything. Your brother is more chill now but he’s clearly uncomfortable with you and your little sibling is still scared of you and everybody you’re ever known thinks you’re a stranger. Meanwhile the other you is celebrated as a hero. He’s receiving the love you used to receive and on top of that he’s just better than you at everything. Which is unfair because he is you! And a part of you can’t really let go of the doubt— that maybe you’re the hero and he’s the monster. That maybe he doesn’t deserve all the things he’s taken from you.
So when he lovingly calls you his twin brother, you don’t know how to respond because he’s really a good guy (because YOU’RE a good guy!), and he has your face but you can’t help but hate him deeply, down to the dark depths within you. Those depths tell you to do many many things you would never have done before.
So you trick your other self and seal him in a tomb which feels so so good because you’ve finally gotten the better of him. And you tell him you’ll be back (but you won’t) and you change your voice and your skin so you look even more like him (more like you, this is you) and you start going back home so your brother will FINALLY give you a hug. But he escapes (and isn’t that infuriating cause he really did get the best of you after all) and, worst of all, he kills you. It doesn’t matter that it was an accident. It doesn’t matter that you were going to put your hands around his throat and squeeze and squeeze until he gave everything back. He grinds you to shreds like you were nothing.
So when you’re given a second chance— when a madman revives you and makes you a living weapon, you decide to let the world go to shit. So long as you’re better than your other self, so long as you’re strong enough to make him hurt, really hurt, nothing else matters. You look at him trying to save the world over and over (his voice has changed, he’s grown taller) and you ignore the pain of watching this better version of you who still believes all the things you used to believe before the stupid beach. Your other self tells you he shares the same torment, that you’re two sides of the same coin, but that’s not right because then why does he have everything you want? Why are you the only one who’s so achingly lonely?
And then. He gently walks with you down to your dark depths. And he helps you kill your demon. And you’re you again, finally, all that rage and desire stripped away, and you see that ah, you two really are the same after all. That there never was any monster (except for the demon) and there never was a hero either, you’re both only human. Then you die again. And when your other self cries over you, as you disappear for good, the only thing you ask him is to take you home. You haven’t been back in such a long time.
Anyways if you can imagine all that, then congrats, you know how it feels like to be Fern Adventuretime.
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cinnamqnx · 2 days ago
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virtually yours ⋆。゚☁︎。⋆
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pairing. seishiro nagi x f!reader
summary. you’re not a usually a gamer girl, occasionally playing the sims or roblox, so imagine your surprise when a clip of you & your best friend goes viral for talking shit to who you imagined was a 12 year old kid, but actually a popular streamer with a territorial fan base and of all place, on dress to impress.
warnings. basically just crack & fluff, nagi is a lil toxic at the start, swearing
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15 | virtually yours
☁︎. one week later
your heart was beating out your chest, your palms sweaty as you stood in the hallway, waiting for seishiro nagi. he had just finished his football game, and to no one’s surprise, winning the match.
you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous to meet the rest of his friends, but you couldn’t help if you and nagi wouldn’t click like you had online.
“y/n?”, you whip around, seeing nagi, his hair messy and disheveled after clearly having a shower. and damn, was 10x more attractive in person.
“hi.”, you say breathlessly, not expecting him to literally come up behind you, “where are your friends?”,, you ask, nervously.
he gives you a small smile, “are you more excited to see them than me?”
you raise your brows, “what? no. sorry, i’m just-“, you breathe, “i’m just really nervous.”
“i’ve been nervous all day, too.”, he mutters, running his hand through the side of his hair, “i was worried i wasn’t gonna perform well.”
“are you kidding? you did so well, sei. i’ve never been so invested in football.”, you laugh.
“really?”, he smiles.
you nod, looking up at him. hearing everything you did about nagi, you assumed he might come across more nonchalant, maybe even a bit quiet. that was your main worry when it came to meeting him and thinking your relationship might be different in person.
but, looking up and seeing the pure adoration in his eyes and the nervous expression he had on his face, you knew you never had a thing to worry about.
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“so yeah, i don’t really know why i was so worried.”, you say to nagi, sitting across from him on a bench table at the fair, biting into a greasy hotdog he had just bought you.
you didn’t get a reply, looking over to see him staring at you, his hand on his cheek, “what?”
“hm?”, he asks.
“you’re just staring at me, is my rambling boring you?” you smile.
“no, you just look really pretty right now.”, he states as a matter of fact.
“i look pretty stuffing my face with this hotdog?@, you laugh.
“mhmm, you do.”, he smiles.
“shut up.”, you roll your eyes, smiling.
“i was really worried too. i’ve not really ever spoken to a girl like this before.”
“like, at all?”, you ask, surprised. he was a good looking boy, and he’s had no experience?
he shakes his head, “never been interested in anyone, and it always seemed like a hassle when i saw it.”
“and what do you think now?”, you smile, tilting your head at him.
“i still think it’s a hassle.”, he pauses, “but in a good way.”
“a hassle in a good way, hm.”, you repeat, finishing off the rest of your hotdog.
“what do you wanna do next?”, he asks, looking at you intently.
“i wanna go on the rides, obviously.”
“but they make me feel nauseous.”, he whines.
“uh huh, and who asked who to a fun fair?”, you smile at his whiny expression.
he simply sighs, looking back at you. how could he deny you when you’re smiling at him like that?
“now, cmon.”, you stress, getting up and grabbing nagi’s hand, “i don’t wanna wait around in the lines.”, you say, looking up at him with an eager glint in your eye, pulling him with you.
nagi couldn’t help but smile to himself, a month ago he would have never thought he’d be spending valentines with a gorgeous girl who he met on roblox, talking shit to him.
and while it may have caused him a great amount of hassle, he couldn’t be more grateful for it.
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navigation. virtually yours
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author’s note. i can’t believe this series is finished 😭 i’ve had so much fun writing this and seeing ur comments even if i didn’t get chance to reply :) ur all so funny and have me in hysterics 😭 if you enjoyed this series im hoping you’ll enjoy more fics i have coming in the future!!
taglist: @nensi @yuiearyi @mi2ukiss @pookalicious-hq @shumeow-h @solaqes @jellychannie @kermitbbg69 @pctterheadd @mizuwki @simpingmyassoff @karasu4life @crispynutella @stwberri @lilwx @suksatoru @rwura @ibyobi @renchai @nuhahani @digitaltrippers @natsukicookies @meekydeeks @ursafehaven @tamimemo @yukari1k @chaoslibra @mochiii-sama @cookielovesbook-akie @ningninjas @wallflowerdowned @hannimissesherbackbone @dinnersyummy @appalost @mbyy00 @asteraslvrr @kaz-0e @kascar-chronicle @arwawawa2 @rwbie @haruhi269 @lovessen @kaiserlvr @azharyy @hwaassaa @mikaru0 @sobbangchan @thenightsflower @chuurinnie @appl3-0rchard (closed)
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Text
Yesterday, I was nobody. I went hungry every other week, saving money for the light bill. I complained about the price of eggs, but bought them anyway. I had big opinions about the government, but never voiced them in any meaningful way. I was a star, in that I was surrounded by trillions of brighter lights in the night sky and destined to be extinguished without anyone noticing.
Today, I was woken up by tires screeching to a halt outside. A line of black vehicles tore through whatever counted as my yard, encircling the tiny trailer I called home.
"Honey, stay calm." My husband said, sitting on the edge of our bed and staring out at the chaos. Calm. The quiet of the morning was ruined by the beat of blades above.
Helicopters?
I opened my mouth to say something, anything.
"This is a good day for you. The CIA didn't make it first." My husband was saying.
My mind reeled. "The CIA?" I repeated as he pushed me to the laundry.
"You'll want to get dressed. Here's your favorite shirt, I already pressed it for you."
When did he learn to do that? We had an old iron, but it was never used. Not since we started working remotely. The computer screen didn't mind wrinkled shirts.
"Who's outside?" I asked as I pulled on a jade green shirt, tucking it into my favorite leggings.
"Don't freak out."
"I won't."
"You always do." He said in resignation. "Outside is General MacAvoy, he will take you to our acting president."
I freaked out.
"The president?" My voice cracked, my mind reeled. "This is a joke. You set up a joke. How did you set this up?"
He steadied me. I blinked away tears until he looked clear again.
"Listen, they are going to let me explain first, because you respond best when I do."
"Do I have amnesia? Retrograde?" I ask, trying to piece together the broken information I was given. My husband didn't look a day older. The same pile of laundry sat undisturbed on our dryer, as it did when I went to sleep last night. A scratch marked by wrist, from where I picked too hard at a scab just days before.
No, not amnesia.
"You already know it's not." My husband confirmed. "The world has been locked, repeating the same 24 hours for the last... God... Fifteen thousand years, now?"
I opened my mouth again, trying to even process that amount of time.
My husband rubbed his hands down my arms, smiling despite the grim news.
"I can't even imagine..." We say at the same time.
"You knew I'd..." He says with me again.
"Is this all you've known?" My voice is weak, his is strong.
"I know you." He continues, stroking a hand down my face. "Every facet of you now. Every secret. I spent hundreds of years hiding you from the rest of the world, to keep anyone from learning that you weren't looping."
"Why?" I ask, a chill running up a spine.
He looks at me patiently, and I knew. Being different was dangerous. "It started with people wanting to know you, because you didn't see everything coming. You were easily surprised, and it added fun to their lives. Then they looked down on you, because we all grew while you stayed the same. Then you became the closest thing to a child we have. Even toddlers outstripped you."
A felt a prick in my pride, jutting my jaw out in something close to a pout.
He kisses me, soft and gentle. "It's fine. You just had less time." He stroked back my wild hair. "But then, things took a turn. Cruel thrill seekers would race to our home, because you're the only person who hasn't become numb to dying. To being killed. They loved your fear. And the CIA filled itself with so-called scientists who thought you could break the loop, if they could just study your every dissected cell closely enough."
His hands trembled. Slightly. Almost imperceptively. "You've died so many ways. Died screaming, every time. Sometimes, I just let it happen. I got so tired of protecting you, just to fail at it again and again. Rinse and repeat."
I swallowed hard, wanting to comfort him. How? How would I even begin? "I forgive you." My words feel distant.
He smiled, "You always do. And that makes it so much worse."
The door opens, and in walks a man. No, a boy. He barely reached my ribs, with strawberry blond curls and big green eyes. A child.
"I am not a child." The boy said, hands folded behind his back. "I am General MacAvoy. For the next twenty-three hours you are in my protection, as you have been for the last two years. Ma'am, we will keep you safe."
I swallow.
Yesterday, I was a nobody.
God, I wish I still was.
Apparently, you are living in a time loop. Also apparently, you are the only person on Earth who DOESN'T remember the previous iterations. This is the first time you've experienced today; the rest of humanity has been stuck reliving today for years now.
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yandere-sins · 2 days ago
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Cake Surprise
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a/n: Happy Valentine's Day! I'm glad to be able to do specials again, so this year I worked on an idea I had for a while! Unspecified yandere, too, so you can imagine whoever you want! :D Hope you enjoy it ♥
Characters: Male!Yandere x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Food Sabotage, Feeding body fluids), Pathetic Yandere, Stalking, Forced Isolation, Pretending to be a friend, Long Post
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Valentine's Day had never been his favorite day.
Why? Sharing a birthday with an official holiday just sucked. The gifts were generic merchandise catered to the holiday—all pink and cute and strawberry scented—and most people were too busy to celebrate on his actual birthday since they were doing couple stuff. But this year? This year, he loved his birthday.
Because he got to spend it with you.
He couldn't remember the last time he was so excited about his birthday party, especially since there had never been someone special by his side before. Usually, he sat between all the guests, who were coupled up and feeding each other cake and laughing at the bad jokes of their lovers, but this year would be different. Because out of all the people invited, you and him were the only ones single.
There were great hopes tied to the fact that between all the lovey-dovey couples, you'd only have one option to choose. He had ensured that no one got the stupid idea to ask you out leading up to this day. For the last weeks, he had followed you around, discouraged others from approaching you, and conveniently put himself on your radar, always smiling and greeting you, walking you home after work when you two "coincidentally" met after his own shift. Buying and offering you a drink or a snack ever so often just from the "goodness of his heart". You never even noticed how he melted in your presence, how he absorbed every word you said, more desperate to spend more time with you every day.
It was a lot of effort to be the only one by your side, considering how beautiful and desirable you were. Countless times, he had to hold himself back to not pluck out the eyes that followed you wherever you went. The light in your eyes was so vibrant that no picture could capture it, and your smile made him feel like he was finally coming home after years of trying to find his place of belonging. It simply had to be you, no matter the struggles he had to go through. He made sure to be up-to-date on every hobby you had, so the conversations wouldn't run out, and in times of distress, it was him who offered his help. No wonder that you, when you were sad about not meeting your friends as often anymore and feeling lonely, gladly accepted his offer to come to his birthday party.
He regretted having to put a damper on your mood before this by making sure you'd be a little more desperate to spend time with him, too. But when you said "yes", he heard the wedding bells ring.
Everything was already decorated, his apartment a monument to everything he didn't like. Gaudy balloons, reds and pinks, roses, and kitsch that made his stomach churn. His fridge was stocked with bottles of sparkling wine, Valentine's special drinks, chocolate-dipped fruits, and the highlight of the day: a sweet, strawberry-flavored, buttercream-covered, delightfully decorated, three-tiered cake. No one would call him stingy, that much was sure.
Carefully pulling out the cake from the fridge, he admired how heavy it was, smelling heavenly with all the cream and fruits on top of it. It would be the day's highlight and, hopefully, the way straight to your heart. He knew all about your love for sweet carbs, and although you ate it mostly for special occasions or when you felt really shitty on some days, this cake was definitely going to impress you.
Setting it down on the kitchen counter, he admired the artistic endeavor done on the food. Some would say it was almost too pretty to eat with all the swirls and decorations covering it, but he'd make sure you'd receive the biggest, most delicious piece of them all! Just thinking about you cutting a big bite out of it, scooping it up on your fork, and passing it through your plush lips sent shivers down his spine.
Your tongue darting out to lick off some excessive cream left behind on your cheek, the sounds of pleasure and delight you'll make as the cream melts in your mouth, coating everything in sugary sweetness. Feeling his cock twitch beneath the fabric of his pants, he knew he shouldn't indulge in the images of you enjoying the cake he provided for you, but how could he not, especially when the comparisons were almost too perfect?
Even though he knew there was a difference between the cake and his cock, it was so easy to replace the two in his thoughts.
He was imagining you on your knees, tongue stretched out to taste his shaft with eager licks, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Your lips wrapped around his tip, licking and sucking up the precum spreading all throughout your mouth until you could finally swallow his whole length, your head bopping up and down, pleasing him to receive all of his "cream".
By the time he pulled himself out of his head, watching the seconds run by on his clock with no more than twenty minutes left until the party was supposed to take place, his cock was rock-hard and leaking into his underwear. You were a potent aphrodisiac and he should have known better than to indulge in the thoughts of you, but it was hard, considering he desired you more than he ever had anything before. Nothing would ever bring him as much joy as you would. You had long become his whole world, and he worshipped you like the deity you were.
It was absolutely impossible to look into your eyes without coming right then and there on the spot. Time was running out as every minute threatened with his guests' arrival, and now he had this extra challenge to take care of before this perfect day could commence.
Working quickly, he freed his imprisoned cock, his palm almost immediately slathered in pre-cum, lubricating him as he pumped it up and down. All he had to do was keep imagining you and all the things he had planned for when he'd finally get to claim you as his completely. His hand worked back and forth, and he thought about taking you to his bedroom after the party, you wanting to thank him in private for the invitation. You, in skimpy, pink lingerie, slowly undressing yourself. The thought of you stripping away your clothes until you were almost completely bared to his eyes was nearly enough to make him cum. However, his cock was a mean prick, still so hard and needy, even though he fed his mind the delicious imagery of you.
All he could do was keep going at this point, time ticking away as he scolded himself for not finishing up quicker. You, jerking him off instead, your soft hands working over his shaft, telling him how much you want him to fill you with his big cock. How you've dreamed of him taking you and moaning at the pure thought of it. His hips made a jump forward as he imagined the tip of his cock about to penetrate you, finding your soft, receptive hole waiting while you mewled and pushed back against him. It almost felt real how wet you were in his mind, almost as if...
Prying his eyes open, he looked down in horror at the smudge on the cake, his tip donning a cream hat, which would have almost been funny if the situation hadn't been so serious. This cake was his masterpiece, and he just put his cock against it, almost completely ruining it!
"Shit, shit, shit," he mumbled, using his dirty hands to spread the buttercream down evenly where he had nudged it, the precarious state of his cock forgotten for a moment. It clearly looked like someone tampered with it, but at least it was uniform again. He'd simply take this piece so that no one would see.
Sighing, the stress fell off him again, his cock twitching below to remind him of what still needed his attention. Swiping off the cream from his tip, he licked it off his fingers, moaning at its sweetness. You'd enjoy it so much and savor every bite because he knew you liked the flavor. And it was all his doing.
Stroking his cock again, he eyed the smudged spot on the cake that he had ruined, imagining you eating something his dick touched. You'd never know, but you'd still enjoy it. There was barely anything more he could do to mark the cake, yet it drove him almost insane to think it was all his doing that made you enjoy it. If only there was something more. Something even clearer that marked you as his, other than just providing you with cake and a quick taste of his dick hurriedly covered by coating.
His pulse rose as he imagined his cum dripping down your lips, seeping into your skin. You, moaning as you tasted his jizz willingly, enjoying the taste mixed with the enormous amount of sugar from the cake. You'd never know what he did, never question it. No, instead, you'd be thankful and filled with his cum. You'd be marked as his by the smell of his cum and your willingness to consume it. No one could argue who you'd belong with while his batter was inside you.
With heavy breaths, he placed his tip back on the smudged cake spot. No one had to know. He could simply fix it again, and no one would notice the disgrace he did to this cake he'd present as his masterpiece.
Awfully slowly, with a loud groan, he pushed his tip inside the goods, followed by his shaft. The insides crumbled around him, welcoming him like he imagined you would. Sounds of pleasure erupted from the cake, the same wet squelching that was anticipated from any good hole.
One push, two. Everything was tight and yet softer than he had ever imagined. Immediately, the images returned to his mind—you, hungrily licking off the cake from his cock. It was all that was needed for the pressure to build. His thrusts grew sloppier as he snapped his hips forward. The cake threatened to slip away, so he grabbed the plate, making sure it would take his cock as it should. Another thrust, another loud moan as he imagined you arching your back and curling your toes, screaming as you were coming on his cock in your frilly lingerie, flushed with ecstatic pleasure only he could give you.
It was enough to send him over the edge, too.
He felt his cum burst into the cake, sloshing all around him and threatening to leak out. There was too much to absorb, but for a moment, he simply let himself enjoy the feeling of filling you to the brim. He'd have to clean up and get ready very quickly after this, so for a few blissful seconds, he let the shudders rush through him, listening to the screams and moans of yours that he could easily imagine just from his memories.
By the time he got a grip on himself, cum had already drooled out of the hole he made, adding an embarrassing stain against the white buttercream. He wiped off his cock quickly before putting it back inside his pants and grabbed some coating and fruits to fill up the hole he had created. In a moment of clarity, he realized how fucked-up this was, but the doorbell rang before he could decide not to serve his cum-filled cake to anyone and discard it.
As expected, everyone was awing and oohing at his efforts, their eyes going big at the sight of the cake. Embarrassment was an understatement for what he felt. It should have been pride, happiness, carefreeness. But knowing what lingered inside this cursed cake was too damning, too shameful, even for him.
And then, you arrived. Like an angel sent from heaven, with a little green package, whispering how you knew he didn't like the Valentine's fuss, so you made sure to be extra careful not to come close to the theme with your gift. Your heart was so good, your intentions so pure, and watching you light up as you saw the cake utterly broke his heart.
He wanted to, but couldn't. He definitely couldn't serve it to you.
The guests mingled, filling his apartment, as he began to dread every second of the party. You looked so natural, swaying your body through the room as if you already lived there. As if you were another host to the party, you handed out drinks and helped everyone to settle in. A sight to behold, that's what you were, fitting between all the decorations with how beautiful you were.
He should have been overjoyed by the sight of you acting so naturally in his home, playing his better half without even agreeing to go steady with him yet. But when everyone sat down at the table, ready to celebrate him, his mood crashed violently. Sweat collected on his forehead as he cursed the damn day, especially when you walked up to him, asking if he was alright and checking his temperature. You were so perfect, so sweet. So kind to offer to check on him. If only you could have touched him more, made him forget about all the other guests, and let him explore your body indefinitely in return. Of course, he quickly denied anything was wrong, instead inhaling your perfume, which left him light-headed. It made it easy for you to lead him to the table, sitting him down while you went to "take care of the rest" for him, and his guests kept him busy, talking and congratulating him, so he didn't see what you were doing in the kitchen.
At least not until you started bringing out slices of cake to everyone. He got the first one, topped with fruit, since it was his birthday. It was a beautiful piece from the top tier, and one by one, the cake was handed out. Gripping the chair he sat on hard, he watched as the cake slowly lost its height, piece by piece. Soon, only half of the bottom tier was left, and from his position, he couldn't see where you cut yourself a slice from. Maybe you'd miss the spot, and he could dispose of the rest quietly later. No one had to know, even if it was gross what he did to the cake either way.
But when you sat down next to him, smiling at him as you held up your plate, the color drained from his face when he noticed the change in cream consistency inside and the piece of fruit stuffed into the middle of the cake.
Jackpot.
Everyone sang him "Happy Birthday" while he sweated profusely, his eyes transfixed on your plate, but he didn't even notice or care. Clearing his throat, it was his time to make a small speech, but instead, he merely asked you to swap pieces since he had much more fruit on his, and it looked more delicious. You shook your head, holding your plate out of reach playfully before telling him firmly it was his birthday and he deserved the best piece. People chuckled and started digging in. Moans and compliments rang through the room, but he couldn't pry his eyes off your plate.
Using your fork, you stabbed it right into his cum, the fluids dripping off as you didn't seem to notice the difference from the cream. You lifted it to your mouth, opening wide, and so did his as he wanted to stop you, but no words rang out. Shame and hesitation held him back as he watched you consume the cum-filled cake with delight, humming appreciatively before gulping it down.
Heat filled his cheeks as he watched you take fork after fork of his surprise cake flavor, unaware of how he disgraced it. You were smiling and enjoying your cake thoroughly until you noticed he hadn't eaten a piece yet. With an innocent grin, you cut off some of yours, holding it out to him and prompting, "Open wide!"
And he did.
With his heart bursting out of his chest, your gesture too cute to withstand, while his stomach twisted as he tasted his own salty cum on your fork. But how could he not have been happy? Being fed by you, even if it was his own jizz that coated his tongue and not the sweet cream of the cake? It was a dream come true, and at this point, he would have eaten anything from your hand, he was sure. You were so happy, too, grinning from ear to ear and doing a happy little wiggle in your seat, not even thinking about the indirect cum-stained kiss you two just shared.
You were now fully, utterly his. However perverted and disgusting it was, it was the only thing he could think of. His pretty little partner, owning the place and him as if it always belonged to you. You had his heart in your hands, squeezing it with every smile and making it throb at the sound of your laughter. And not only had he satisfied your fondness for cake, but your belly was now also filled with his cum that you ate so willingly and eagerly. Of course, you didn't know, but you didn't even flinch at the change of taste you must have noticed at some point. If only that cum could have soaked all over you, spilled over your face and chest, and from your little hole that was probably waiting for his cock to fill it next.
He could have said something, ruined this moment and any chances of a relationship with you or any of his friends. But it was already too late, he reasoned. You already ate most of the piece, and he didn't have the heart to tell you what he did. It would be his little secret, although he did make sure that no one else got a dirty piece of cum-filled cake anymore. If anything, they had always been meant just for you. But as he ate his own cake, filling his mouth to the brim to get rid of the bad aftertaste, you leaned over.
"Happy birthday! And happy Valentine's!" you congratulated him, and all the panic and embarrassment simply fell off as he smiled back, thanking you after swallowing the cake. He was already thinking about what he could fill with his cum next for you to eat as he asked you out to have dinner with him soon. And you beamed up, none the wiser, agreeing immediately.
Best birthday ever.
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blushsturns · 3 days ago
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perv!matt x innocent!reader♡
pt.7 ❤︎ vibe
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part 6 is here
masterlist is here
warnings: this contains sexual content, but it is all consensual! mutual masturbation, use of sex toys, phone sex, pure filth.
w/c: 3011
matt’s call comes in right on time as you’ve made yourself comfortable in bed. next to you lays the vibe toy that matt bought for you at the sex shop. last night he had called you to apologize for going ghost for a week and decided to come up with the deal that he’d use the toy on you to make it up to you. you agreed because this piqued your interest, and you were curious if he was actually going to go through with it. matt was very shy, reserved, and not like any other guy that you have been around, but that wasn’t a bad thing. you weren’t sure what the two of you were and what it is that you were doing, but you always just told yourself a little fun won’t hurt.
“hello?” you answered your phone with your airpods in your ear, making sure to be prepared so that you had both of your hands free. knowing that this was actually going to happen, and matt was going to be in control of when and how you cum was already turning you on and making your heartbeat rapidly in your chest from excitement and nerves rolling through you.
“hey, pretty.” matt’s voice comes through on the other end, followed by some shuffling which you assumed was him getting himself settled into bed. “how was your day?”
you leaned your head back against the pillow, your eyes closing as you vividly try to remember your day, which was a complete blur. “i had a super early shift at the coffee shop and then i had to study for my exams next week, so that’s pretty much it.” you let out a pathetic laugh because well, that’s how you felt considering your day was very much noneventful. “how about you?”
“i ran some errands and then filmed a video with nick and chris. nick is editing it and it’s going up on friday.” you hear a soft laugh come from the other end. “it was just a car video where we talk about the most out of pocket, dumbest shit ever.”
“i’ve seen all of your videos. mainly because sometimes i’ve sat with nick as he would edit them to keep him company. you guys are hilarious.” your tone was gentle, your one hand playing with the bow on your pajama shorts.
matt lets out another laugh on the other end. “well, that means a lot coming from you. thank you, doll.” he paused for a moment, a deep breath exhaling from his chest and out past his lips. “so, do we still have a deal?”
your cheeks suddenly felt warm at the sudden switch in conversation. you were surprised that he brought it up almost immediately, but you weren’t complaining. that was the whole reason he was calling you tonight. “of course we do.” you say shyly, moving your hand over to grab the vibe toy, tracing it with your index finger before holding it in the palm of your hand. “i have it in my hand right now.”
“okay, so i did some research.” he laughs softly. “i have the app on my phone so once you turn it on, i’ll get to control it however i want.”
you don’t know why you were suddenly so nervous. it was your idea in the first place to buy it when you went to the sex shop. you were intrigued and thought it would be fun to explore and do something different. you felt comfortable with matt, even if you weren’t sure on your true feelings for him. “oh, you did your research huh? look at you, smart little thing.”
“hey, for good reason.” he let out another laugh, a deep breath exhaling from his chest and out past his lips. “i was a little nervous, not gonna lie, but it’s all i’ve been able to think about.” he admitted honestly with a bit of shyness evident in his tone. you could imagine him now, in his bed, probably extremely flustered and hard as he imagined what you looked like in this very moment and how he probably wished it was him touching you instead.
“confident and a risk taker? the girls should be lining up at your door begging you to touch them.” a soft giggle emits from your lips at your own words, although for some reason the thought of other girls finding interest in matt made the pit of your stomach feel funny, almost like you were jealous and you didn’t like that. not at all.
“i’m good.” he said almost immediately, a laugh leaving his lips. “i only want to touch one girl and one girl only.”
his words made your cheeks warm, the pink, rosy tint creeping up against your cheeks. somehow, he always knew what to say to make you feel special as if you were the only girl that even existed in the entire world. “is that so?” you weren’t sure how to reply to him, so your response was very nonchalant.
“i mean, i’m about to control how and when she orgasms, so yes.”
your cheeks only turn a darker shade of red at his words, your chest beating rapidly in your chest at the feeling of the electricity sparking throughout your veins. he couldn’t see you, but he knew you were getting flustered. he knew you very well, even if you didn’t realize it. “okay, so i just put it in my underwear?”
“yeah, pretty. let me know when it’s in and i’ll turn it on, okay? i’ll start it off slow, i promise.” his words were reassuring enough to make you feel comfortable, although you were still slightly nervous.
you took in a shaky breath before placing the small vibe into your underwear and making sure your underwear is compressed against the material tightly enough so that you can feel every bit of intensity when he decides to turn it on. “okay.” you spoke in a soft whisper, another breath falling from your lips. “it’s in.”
“atta girl.” his words sent a shudder down your spine and butterflies to roam in the pit of your tummy. you hadn’t realized the effect matt was having on you lately and even though you weren’t complaining about it, it still left you confused yet intrigued for more.
suddenly, you felt a vibration against your now soaked clit through the fabric of your thin lacy underwear, the vibe toy buzzing to life as the sensation immediately caused you to let out a soft gasp. the thing was tiny, but mighty. “holy s-shit.” you stammered on your words, your legs spreading out onto the bed to get into a more comfortable position.
matt was in full, utter control on the other end. who knew just from a simple app and the touch of his fingers against his phone screen that he’d be the one in control of making you feel good and how intense it becomes without even physically being there. of course, he’d love to be there for real, but this would have to do, for now of course. “how’s it feel, hm?” he cooed on the other end of the phone, his fingers working their magic against the app as he traced lines up and down onto the app while it being on the lowest setting.
“f-feels good.” you stuttered out your words, a delicate moan emitting from your lips as you feel the vibe toy vibrating against your core and immediately coating the toy with your slick arousal. “so wet.” you moaned out, the head throwing back against the pillow.
you heard matt let out a shaky breath on the other end. “i bet you’re soaked. i wish i was there to do instead. do you think you can handle a little more?”
another moan escapes your lips, moving one of your hands up to your breast through the fabric of your tank top and giving it a gentle squeeze, the pad of your thumb caressing against your hardened nipple. “y-yes.” you stammered, a shaky breath falling from your lips. you spread your legs further onto the bed, your eyes immediately widening as you suddenly felt the vibrating sensation grow more intense against your aching, soaking wet pussy. “fuck, matt!” you cried out, the vibration hitting your clit perfectly as you push your hips up into the vibe toy to continue feeling every bit of intensity rolling through you.
he was clearly having fun getting to be in control of the intensity levels and figuring out how much you can actually handle. “sound so pretty f’me, doll. love it when you say my name.”
his words and the feeling of the vibrations against your soaking wet clit was a sensation that you never truly experienced before. soft moans and heavy breaths escaped your lips, and you knew he could hear every single one of these sounds over the phone because he elicited a satisfied groan from his lips. he loved hearing you and knowing that he was the one in control of how you were truly feeling in that moment. he could turn it off, raise the level, or lower it at any given moment. he’d never tease you though; especially when he had you in the palm of his hand.
your face was flushed, and your head was thrown back against the pillows, your hair sticking to your forehead from the sweat glistening against your skin and pooling into your hairline. your heartbeat rapidly in your chest from the sensations rolling throughout your body. your pussy was throbbing and sopping wet and just when you thought the intensity was already high, he played around with the levels and increased it another notch.
you immediately let out an immediate moan at the intensity level of the buzzing against your swollen nub, gasping as it continued to press against your bundle of nerves. “oh fuck!” you cried out in pleasure, moving your hand over to your own breast underneath your tank top and began to pinch your own hardened nipple and kneading your breast in your hand. “k-keep going.” you stuttered out, heavy breaths falling from your lips. “n-not gonna last.”
he’s loving every second of this. hearing your pretty sounds and knowing that he’s the one responsible for them just turned him on even more. even just from his bedroom to yours, you were putty in his hands, and he couldn’t get enough.
his own cock was throbbing immensely against the fabric of his boxers as he laid there with a wet patch forming at the center, his hand working his magic on his phone while his other hand slid down to begin tugging off his boxers to allow his hardening cock to spring free. he hissed quietly through clenched teeth due to the cold air hitting his sensitive cock. the tip of his cock was flushed pink and leaking pre-cum. he was glad he decided to use his airpods so he could have a free hand to touch himself while still being able to be in control of the app on his phone.
“fuck.” matt grunted out at the feeling of his own hand against his hardened cock as it began to twitch against his palm. he’s never done something like this before, and neither have you and it was something he’d never forget. he’d replay this memory over and over again in the back of his mind, especially when he touched himself to the thought of you.
he’s gotten a taste of you, but fuck, he wanted you to have a taste of him in return one day.
you hear the sounds he’s making on the other end and you begin to wonder if he’s touching himself too. the vibration against you is so intense that your legs begin to tremble, and fire starts coursing throughout your veins to signal that your orgasm was approaching. “fuck, matt.” you moaned out as your hand massages your breast, your fingers pinching your hardened nipple and rolls it between your fingertips. “i’m g-gonna cum.”
matt groaned in satisfaction at your words as he continued to pump his fist against his own rock-hard cock as it twitches in his hand, his thumb circling along the tip each time he moves his hand up. “fuck, you gonna cum f’me, pretty girl? such a good girl.” he let out a couple grunts, his other hand continuing to play around with the levels on the app as the vibe vibrates intensely against your swollen clit. he picked up speed within his own fist and pumped his cock furiously, a string of groans falling from the back of his throat.
hearing his words and the feeling of the toy vibrating against your clit sends you over the edge. your eyes fall shut with your head thrown against the pillow. a string of moans and profanities leave your lips, fire coursing throughout your veins and you feel heat pooling in your tummy as you let go fully. “fuck, matt! i’m cumming!” you moan out in ecstasy, your body shakes, your legs tremble as you cum hard all around the vibrating toy, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body and straight to your aching core.
the vibrations roll against you as you moan through your orgasm, letting it consume and control your entire body. matt whispers praises in your ear over the phone, telling you that you did so good and sound so beautiful. you recover from your intense high a minute later, pulling the vibe out of your panties and placing it next to you on the bed. your breathing is labored, your heart racing rapidly in your chest from the intense orgasm you just encountered.
“fuck.” matt grunted out on the other end. “did so good f’me. wish i was there to take care of you. how do you feel?” he eventually closed out the app once he knew you couldn’t handle anymore and placed his phone down onto the bed next to him.
your legs are still shaking as you close them and pull your blanket over your body, your head hitting the pillow comfortably again as you try to calm yourself down. your limbs felt weak, your body growing tired. “i feel amazing. thank you, matt.” your cheeks and chest were flushed as you let out a soft giggle. “what about you? are you touching yourself for me?”
you hear shuffling against the other end, followed by string of moans falling from his lips. “y-yeah, doll. i can’t help it. got me so turned on, fuck.” his words make you moan all over again, butterflies roaming in your tummy at the sound of him. he sounded so pretty, and you wondered what he looked like when he was touching himself, or if you were there to do it for him instead.
“can i help?” you ask innocently, biting gently onto your bottom lip. there was something about the fact that he was turned on and touching himself to the thought of you that made you feel so special, so warm inside and you were starting to get hooked on that feeling.
“please? i’m so fucking hard.” matt said bluntly, a soft whine emitting from his lips as he continued to fist his own cock, the pad of his thumb swiping across the pre-cum and lathering it against the entire shaft. his cock was twitching immensely in his hand as he throws his head back, hissing through his teeth at the sensation.
your center was throbbing still from the intense vibrations that were against you. you let out a few shaky breaths, your heart still racing in your chest from the anticipation. “of course. i bet you’re so hard just from hearing me cum, aren’t you?”
he let out a guttural groan in response to your words, his fist pumping his cock a bit faster now, his head thrown onto the pillow behind him. he was already so close, his chest heaving up and down with fire coursing throughout his veins. “i’m always so hard because of you, doll. fuck, the things you do to me. s-so close.”
his words made your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink and immediately feel warm to touch as you lifted your hand against your cheek before placing your fingers between your messy locks. yo could feel your heart beating even faster. “matt.. fuck. are you gonna cum for me? just imagine i was there, my hand around your cock, or my mouth. you’d like that wouldn’t you?”
matt groans against the other end, his hand moving faster against his aching hard cock. you could hear his breathing becoming heavier by the second with a string of moans leaving his lips. “fuck, doll. i’m gonna cum. shit, i-“
he cums, hard. all over his fist and stomach, a string of groans and profanities fall from his lips as his mind is consumed of thoughts of you and your beautiful voice on the other end of the call. his chest heaves up and down as he tries to calm down from his high and all you could do is lay there and imagine what he looks like when he cums and how pretty he looks and what he would taste like. “fuck, matt. that was.. wow.”
matt laughs on the other end, his breathing still slightly labored as he tries to recover from his intense orgasm. “thanks for keeping your end of the deal, pretty. that was fucking incredible.”
“thank you for helping me and buying it for me. maybe we can do it again sometime.” you smile as you twirl a strand of your hair around with your finger. you couldn’t help but smile at his words and how things felt so natural when you were talking with him. no matter what you two talked about, things just felt comfortable.
“maybe next time it can be in person, and we can touch each other for real.”
how could you say no to that?
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notes:
thank you so much for reading! if you wanna chat about perv!matt x innocent!reader, or if you have any ideas for me just send them to my inbox. love you guys!
taglist:
@sturnshood @strangelife122 @jessie-essie @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt @sturnslutz @sturns-mermaid @matthewsturnsgf @christmastreecake @rinahasspots @222wall876 @chris-hallelujah @izzylovesmatt @strniloslvts @oopsiedaisydeer @sophand4n4 @xclusivedesires @mattsplaything @poppingmypussy4chris @mattsbunnyxx @pair-of-pantaloons @chrissweetheart @slutformatt17 @sturnl0ve @pasteldreams @h3arts4harry @marrykisskilled @wh0remikasas @sturnzslut @camzeecorner @alesturniolos @emely9274 @2muchofaslvt @y3sterdaysproblem @sturnslux3 @bowsandsturniolos @moustacherryismyhusband @rafesapprentice @ivysturnss @headzgonewest @strawberryghost3 @il0vey0um0st @violetstxrniolo777 @bigbeefybitch @raesturns @courta13 @sofieeeeex @tylerthecreatorsglazr @kittyyyyykats
-nessa ღ
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lyvhie · 1 day ago
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omg hiii, i’ve been in my haechan feels lately, especially with him looking unreal from the seoul shows. can we get possessive haechan?? like i swear that man loves his girl down bad, absolutely in love, and he’s so possessive of her like not in a toxic weird way, but like a hot cute endearing way like a way that would make me push him into the dressing room of a clothes store and give him the most best and deserved head he’s ever gotten bc if there’s anything i love, it’s a man who’s down baddd
── .✦ moments of appreciation
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lee donghyuck x fem!reader
𓂃 ࣪˖ ࣪cw: smut, fluff (?), oral (m), deep throat, public sex. 𓂃 ࣪˖ a/n: hi anon... you're so right... i think about this everyday, i meed him in every ways possible, you dont get it... please, enjoy!!! (no, i have nothing for valentine's day, maybe next year, babes 😜😜)
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Donghyuck never thought he could love someone the way he loves you. He couldn't quite put into words everything that made him love you, you were simply it for him, perfect in all the right ways.
Yes, you had your imperfections, but to him, love was never about perfection. It wasn't about logic or reason, it simply was. Anyone could love something for all the good it offered, but real love, the kind that mattered, was about embracing everything, even the flaws. And that's exactly how he loved you—completely, without hesitation, without conditions.
He had thought about this before. You could break his heart, shatter him beyond repair, or commit the worst sins imaginable, and he would still love you—helplessly, foolishly. It didn't matter if it sounded irrational, maybe even a little insane. The truth was simple: he would do anything for you, no matter the cost.
But the best part? You were his. No one else's, just his. The thought alone made his chest swell with something dangerously close to obsession. Out of everyone in the world, you had chosen him, and that was a privilege he would never take lightly. You were his, and he was just as much yours, bound to you in a way that felt absolute, unshakable.
And that’s why, even after what felt like days sitting on that little couch, watching you step out of the dressing room in a different outfit each time, he still felt like he was having the best day of his life. Then again, every day felt like the best as long as you were in it.
Really, was there any better way to spend his time than watching his pretty girl try on pretty clothes?
“What do you think about this one?” You asked again, the same question you’d been repeating since the first outfit change.
Donghyuck looked up from his phone, his eyes immediately locking onto you.
“I've never seen anything more beautiful in my life,” he said with a bright smile, letting his gaze travel up and down twice.
“Hyuck, come on,” you rolled your eyes. “You said that the last fifteen times. You’re being useless,” you huffed, crossing your arms.
“How is it my fault that you look stunning in everything?” he shot back, tilting his head with a smirk.
You sighed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I need actual feedback, not just you being a flirt.”
Donghyuck leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he gave you a once-over, this time, with a more thoughtful expression. “Okay, fine. Turn around.”
You did as he said, giving him a little twirl before facing him again, an expectant look on your face.
He hummed, tapping his chin dramatically. “I mean… it is a really nice outfit,” he said slowly, making you narrow your eyes at him.
“But?”
“But I still think you are the best part of it,” he grinned, dodging the throw pillow you immediately launched at him.
He got up from his seat, laughing as he walked toward your grumpy figure, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Aw, don't look at me like that, gorgeous," he teased, pressing a kiss to your cheek and chuckling when you turned your face away. "Why are you so worried about this anyway?" he asked, tightening his grip slightly when you tried to pull away.
You hesitated for a moment before sighing. "It's for the reunion," you admitted, avoiding his gaze.
Donghyuck blinked, then tilted his head. "The high school thing?"
"Yes, the high school thing," you huffed. "I don't know, I just... want to look good. It's been years, and I'll be seeing people I haven't seen since we were all awkward teenagers."
His lips curled into a teasing smirk. "Ohhh, I get it now," he cooed. "You wanna show off a little, huh?"
You shot him a glare. "It's not like that—”
"It is like that," he interrupted, grinning. "And honestly? You should. You're hot. Let them eat their hearts out."
Despite yourself, you couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head as he pinched your sides playfully.
"I'm serious, baby. You're stressing over nothing. Just look at you," he said, taking your hand and turning you toward the mirror. His arms wrapped around your waist again, and he rested his chin on your shoulder. "You're breathtaking, the most beautiful woman in the universe and beyond. You could show up in pajamas and still look like a goddess."
You thought you'd be used to his endless flattery by now, but somehow, you never were. It was always sweet, never failing to make your heart skip a beat.
You glanced at him through the mirror, your worries slowly fading as he pressed a soft kiss to your neck.
"You're so dramatic," your tone warm as you rolled your eyes but leaned back into him anyway.
"I'm just telling the truth," he murmured, pressing his nose against your neck. "It's not my fault my overthinking girlfriend needs constant reminders of how stunning she is."
You huffed, but the way your lips twitched betrayed you. "Well, maybe if someone gave me actual opinions instead of just approving everything i wear, I wouldn't have to overthink."
Donghyuck chuckled, swaying you gently in his arms. "Fine, fine. If you really want my expert opinion..." He paused, pretending to scrutinize your reflection in the mirror.
You raised an eyebrow, waiting. "And?”
“Don’t wear this dress.”
“What? Why?” You frowned, glancing at your reflection. “I actually liked this one the most. Does it really look that bad?”
“I never said that,” his hands trailing up and down your waist. “You look incredible, love, but it feels a little too formal for the occasion. The second one you tried fits the vibe better. Plus, it’ll probably be more comfortable… you know, in case we need to make a quick getaway.”
Yeah, he wouldn't admit it, but he wanted you to wear it just for him. You looked too beautiful in it, almost unfairly so, the idea of anyone else seeing you like this, soaking in the sight of you, were a big no-no. Unwanted attention (read: any attention that wasn’t exclusively his) was simply not an option.
“Oh, so you’re already planning our escape before we even get there?” You raised your brows, crossing your arms. “Really?”
Donghyuck chuckled, tightening his grip on your waist as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. "Baby, please. I know you," his voice laced with amusement. "You won't last more than an hour before you start getting annoyed at half the people there. You'll smile, nod, pretend to listen, and then, you'll be counting the minutes until we leave."
He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze in the mirror, a smug grin on his lips. "So, yeah, I'm already planning our escape. Just being a good boyfriend and thinking ahead.”
"Okay, maybe you have a point," you teased, rolling your eyes as you turned to face him, looping your arms around his neck. "Guess I should thank my thoughtful boyfriend for planning ahead."
"Just doing the bare minimum for my girl," he smiled, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. "Now that we've finally settled on an outfit and I’ve reminded you how perfect you are, can I spoil you and pay for everything you liked?"
You held his gaze, your heart doing that little flutter it always did when he looked at you like that, like you were his entire universe. It was almost overwhelming, the way his eyes softened, filled with something so pure, so consuming.
If love had a shape, a form, a physical presence, you were sure it lived in the way Haechan looked at you. The same way a loyal pet would gaze at their favorite person, full of unconditional adoration, unwavering and endless. His pupils were blown wide, his expression a mix of devotion and something deeper, something you couldn't quite put into words.
“Baby, please, don’t tell me you’re going to refuse again,” he whined at your silence, pouting a little. “Why do you love to ruin my happiness? It's my duty to—”
“I love you, Lee Donghyuck,” you said softly, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss.
He was surprise by the sudden words and actions, but his shoulders instantly relaxed as he melted into your embrace. He kissed you back with equal passion, murmuring between the kisses, “I love you too,” before peppering your lips with more soft kisses as you pulled away, only for him to chase after you, craving more of your touch.
You couldn't help but giggle at the way he whined in protest when you pulled away for good, placing your hands on his chest to stop him. Biting your lip, you glanced around before tugging his hand, a playful glint in your eyes as you whispered, "Come with me." And just like that, you pulled him into the dressing room.
"What are you doing?" he asked, slightly confused, though he wasn't exactly opposed to whatever you had in mind.
"Just saying thank you for being the sweetest boyfriend ever," you murmured, sinking to your knees in front of him, your hands sliding up his thighs as you looked up at him.
Oh, he knew exactly what was happening. God, he couldn't believe it. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as his heart pounded, the sight of you like this making his pants uncomfortably tight.
"Are you sure, love?" his voice softer now, laced with anticipation. His eyes flickered to the curtain, hesitant for only a second as you unbuttoned his pants. "This isn't really the best place to—"
A low groan slipped from his lips as your hand firmly cupped his growing hardness, cutting off whatever weak protest he was about to make.
"Be quiet, Hyuck," you scolded, palming him again. He sucked in a sharp breath, biting his bottom lip to stifle any sound as a dark spot began to form on his underwear.
“Fuck, hurry up,” he hissed, any previous hesitation now completely forgotten.
You smirked at his impatience but didn’t tease him, at least, not too much. Slipping your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, you tugged them down just enough to free his cock, standing hard and eager, a bead of precum already glistening at the tip.
You wrapped your fingers around his length, stroking him slowly, savoring the way his breath hitched with each movement. His chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm as he leaned back against the wall, his gaze locked onto you, dark with need. His cock twitched in your grip, another bead of precum spilling from the tip, proof of just how desperate he already was for you.
You merely smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his tip before running your tongue along his length, savoring the way he tensed under your touch. His head fell back against the wall, his breathing growing heavier, his thighs trembling slightly as you took him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him in deeper.
"Shit—" He bit down on his fist to muffle the groan that nearly slipped, his other hand instinctively threading through your hair, not to control your pace but just to feel you closer, to ground himself in the pleasure you were giving him.
The muffled sounds of the store outside felt like a distant hum, completely drowned out by the way your tongue moved so perfectly against him. His not-so-soft moans filled the small space, each one making your core tighten with satisfaction. You sucked on the tip of his cock before slowly pulling away, letting it slip from your lips with a sinful pop, but your hand never stopped stroking him.
"Hyuck, you're being too loud," you scolded in a hushed tone, glancing up at him with a mix of amusement and warning.
“Don't stop,” he whined, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with desperation. His hips jerked forward instinctively, chasing your warmth. Even the slightest brush of your lips against his tip had his knees trembling.
You let out a soft chuckle, watching the way he was falling apart just from your touch. His fingers tightened in your hair, his knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to push you down onto him the way he so desperately wanted.
“You’re so needy,” you teased, your breath ghosting over his sensitive tip, making him shudder.
“And whose fault is that?” he shot back, his voice strained, breathing heavily.
Instead of answering, you wrapped your lips around him once more, taking him in deeper this time. His head fell back against the wall with a soft thud, a broken moan escaping his lips as his grip in your hair loosened for a moment, only to tighten again when your tongue flicked over his slit.
Was he dead, and this was paradise? If not, it had to be the closest thing to it. His legs nearly gave out when he felt your throat tighten around him, the sudden sensation ripping a loud moan from his lips. Your nails dug into his thighs in warning, silently telling him to keep quiet. He bit down hard on his lower lip, his breathing ragged as he fought to control himself, but with the way your mouth worked on him, it was becoming nearly impossible.
He looked down at you, and what a sight. The way your lips stretched around him, the glint in your eyes as you took him deeper—it was enough to make his head spin. The pleasure was overwhelming, pushing him closer to the edge. His hips moved on their own, chasing that high, silently begging you to go faster, to take him there.
You gave in to his desires, quickening your pace, sucking with more intensity, while your hand skillfully massaged his balls, each movement pushing him closer to the edge. The rhythm of your actions seemed to drive him wild, his breath ragged as he struggled to hold on.
His body tensed, his head spinning as he reached his peak, hot spurts of cum filling your mouth. His fingers tightened in your hair, urging you closer as his hips jerked forward, riding out the last tremors of his climax, unwilling to let go.
You pulled his cock out of your mouth, knowing he would have kept you there if he had his way. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, glancing up to see his face in pure satisfaction, eyes shut and head leaning against the wall. His hand now gently ran through your hair, his breath still heavy as he mumbled how good you were, the words dripping with praise.
You let out a soft giggle, adjusting his clothes as you noticed how disoriented he looked. As you stood up, he finally met your gaze, his eyes dark with desire. Without warning, he leaned in, pulling you into a kiss that was intense yet tender. “God, I love you so much, baby,” he whispered against your lips.
“Me too,” you replied, a playful smile on your face. “I think the whole store heard you,” you teased, gently biting his lower lip before pulling away to meet his gaze.
“Then I guess they know how much I love you now,” he shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, making you laugh. “Maybe I’ll be quieter next time.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Next time? I think this one was enough, don’t you? We could have gotten caught.”
“But we didn’t,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Next time, I’ll make sure you're the one making all the noise.”
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↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.
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nobodyfamousposts · 2 days ago
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Scarlet Lady Top 10 Favorite Characters: Number 9
for @zoe-oneesama
Number 10 Here
Now let’s be fair about this. This list is subjective and according to my own personal bias. It’s not about who is deserving or who is “Best Boy/Girl”. These are just the top ones I like and enjoy seeing in the comic. My favorites may not be your favorites and I quite frankly don’t expect them to be anyone else’s favorites in the same order or even on the same list at all. And just because someone is not on my list doesn’t mean I don’t like them or that I don’t find value in them.
This is just a list of the characters I like the most and my reasonings as to why. What makes me like them? What makes them stand out? Because Scarlet Lady has a LOT of really great characters who all deserve a shout out, so these are just ten of them that stuck out to me the most.
And while I am at least attempting to value them here on their own merit in the Scarlet Lady comic as opposed to Canon or its many MANY issues or the differences between the two, it stands to reason that at least SOME mention of Canon is going to be made. That said, I am trying very hard to not rate them based on my feelings from Canon but more on how I feel about them in this comic.
And because naturally I like my dramatic moments, I’m going to do the list in descending order from number 9 to number 1.
So without further ado…
Number 9: Alya
I love Alya in Scarlet Lady. So much so that I feel bad that she’s not higher on the list, but to be fair, she has some pretty tough competition. And it says something when that’s the case because it feels to me like everyone deserves a spot on this list…it’s just that some deserve it a little bit more.
Alya certainly warrants her spot on this list. She was one of the characters with the fewest changes from her setup in canon and yet ended up with such a major and lasting impact that her canon self can’t match.
But if I have to break down the reasons:
1. Alya is a good friend.
When mention is made of Alya being Marinette’s best friend, SL!Alya is the version that comes to mind for me. And honestly, she’s the image I long had and long wished for Alya of canon.
A friend who is supportive in all the right ways. A friend needing her own level of support. A friend who will disagree with you on points but still be your friend. A friend who can make mistakes and jump to conclusions but you can always forgive because you know she would do the same for you.
In Mr. Pigeon, Alya was willing to throw down with Chloe Bourgeois to defend Marinette’s honor and her hat design. And this was only two episodes after Lady Wifi, where Chloe had abused her power to get Alya suspended over a relatively minor infraction that had literally nothing to do with Chloe except that Chloe chose to be offended by Alya’s incorrect conclusion. Sure, it can arguably be for payback (given how keen Alya was to confront Chloe), but let’s be honest here: after being forced into a position where you are completely helpless at the hands of a bully and even authority figures are not willing or able to step in, most people would hesitate to confront the bully again regardless of whether they know they’re in the right. And Alya arguably didn’t have proof at the time that Marinette’s hat was actually her original creation.
And yet, Alya was going to act anyways. WANTED to act. For friendship. For vengeance. Not quite sure HOW she was intending to take down Chloe in this case, but I imagine it would have landed her in trouble again and she was fully willing to do so on behalf of her friend.
And speaking of her friend, remember Alya in Reflekta? She was excited of the idea of Marinette being a hero and part of me thinks she really pushed the “Marinette is Scarlet Lady” angle because she idolized Scar at the time and very much WANTED her to be Marinette—someone she also adores. Having two of her favorite people be one and the same would have been amazing for her! Sadly (or fortunately depending on your view) that was not the case, but Alya still got to have her moments of seeing her best friend as a hero, and her starry eyes sell it for me. As does Marinette later arranging an interview for her as Marigold—something especially important given in this version, one of the two primary heroes simply has no time for interviews while the other wouldn’t give a blog like Alya’s the time of day regardless of how much Alya did to help promote her.
Plus how in Troublemaker, she got the entire class to come to school dressed in Chat Noir gear to show support for the poor catboy and to help protect Marinette after the way her room and her multitude of pictures of Chat Noir were revealed on live television. Just to try and limit her friend’s embarrassment after her privacy was violated and her crush was outted.
See this? This is the friendship I wanted to see in canon. The ride or die. A counterweight. Supporting each other in reasonable and healthy ways. To be able to say with certainty that when the chips are down, they have each others’ backs. And Alya does.
Then there’s the Love Square—and if the change to the setup didn’t already improve how it went, then Alya’s involvement certainly did.
Part of the reason the Love Square struggled in Canon was because of how forcefully it was pushed with such shoddy foundation, and Alya was the biggest pusher. She forced so many situations out of some misguided attempt to “help” that only ended up creating stress for Marinette, cringe for the writing, and no actual momentum on the progress of the pairing. If you want a metaphor, then let’s describe it like this: If the Love Square is an actual ship and if Alya was a tug boat, she wouldn’t have been helping her ship “set sail” so much as dragging it underwater across the ocean and to its watery demise.
But in Scarlet Lady, Alya is supportive and encouraging��and not in the way where she blows off Marinette’s anxieties or Adrien’s obliviousness and forces them both into a position they’re clearly not ready for only to turn around and be annoyed that it didn’t work out. 
No, she was aware of Marinette’s feelings and interests to the point she recognizes Marinette has a small crush on Adrien even before the girl herself did. She also seemed to be aware of Adrien’s crush on her. So knowing this, she tried to help nudge things along. Note I said “NUDGE”. 
She knows a spark could be there. So when Alya had an opportunity, she helped to set things up in a way that would give Marinette and Adrien time together to explore that. Not to confess. Not to date. Just opportunities to be together, interact, and see what happens.
Heck, it feels at times like she’s more of Adrien’s wingman than Marinette’s. Especially given the whole bit in Stormy Weather, which remains to date one of my favorite strips of the entire series. Alya was the reason Marinette even made it there in the first place. And when she was picked for the modeling spot, she still tried to influence things to let Marinette take over. Similar to canon, yes, but a notably better feel to it. Better humor. Better outcome.
Which is ultimately what a friend should be trying for. For ALL of her friends.
And by the end of the comic, I can say that Alya is a friend to not just Marinette, but also Adrien and Alix and the other classmates. Yes, even Lila. Which says something given how much she initially despised Lila for the fake interview and how long she held that grudge against her. Going from outright dislike to grudgingly hanging out with to swallowing her pride and giving a real chance to actual collaboration on revealing a major truth.
Now that’s progress.
And speaking of progress…
2. Journalist Has A Point
Look, many a story will have THAT character. You know the one. Whether a detective, journalist, or conspiracy theorist, THAT character is devoted to uncovering the truth, whatever it may be—and usually in the form of plot-relevant secrets and useful information. 
So one of the biggest disappointments you can create is having such a character 
with all the drive and reasoning to investigate be in a prime position to uncover a major plot point, in which you give them all the resources and all the motivation to make the discovery…and yet have them do nothing.
Or worse, have the truth spoon fed to them instead when it’s convenient. No effort. No drama or antics. No surprise. No real reaction to the revelation. Just take away all the fun why don’t you?
Alya is a major fan of heroes and a journalist in the making. When these things mix, you have a ready-made source of humor and drama in a character with the dual position of he hero’s best friend who doesn’t know her secret and a wannabe investigator who risks discovering the hero’s secret. Normally, such a position would involve a number of antics over a multitude of episodes, with the friend being in a prime position to out the hero and the hero having to regularly come up with ways to distract and mislead the friend in question in order to protect the secret.
In canon, we get all of two episodes that even play with this setup. Two in the four seasons it takes for Marinette to just blurt it out to Alya. Lady Wifi and Pharaoh. That’s it. And of those two, Lady Wifi had Marinette completely unconcerned with Alya’s claim of knowing Ladybug’s identity. No drama. No conflict. No antics. No attempts at misdirection. No introspection or question if maybe revealing the city’s hero is even a good idea. No internal questioning if Alya should be told the secret—if she’s trustworthy or if she would be in danger. No continued attempts to uncover her identity as if Alya had just gotten bored with it. Nothing.
And if you know anything from my previous essays, you know that few things frustrate me more than having a great setup that practically writes itself and doing NOTHING WITH IT.
In Scarlet Lady, that setup is nixed from the start since Marinette didn’t start off as the hero. Instead, what we have is a situation where Alya idolizes the self-proclaimed hero of the city, completely ignorant to the truth that we as the audience were already immediately made aware of: that said hero is Chloe and she is ABSOLUTELY HORRIBLE!
Marinette is aware of her being horrible. Adrien is FULLY aware of her being horrible. WE all know she is horrible. But Alya, like most of the city, is enthralled and supportive of her as the “Hero of the City”.
This change immediately created a whole new setup. Where Alya is a fan of a hero while being ignorant to that hero’s true nature. Where WE know and even other characters in the show know, but it’s impossible to convince anyone else of this truth. I’m sure you all know what it’s like watching any character in that sort of situation. It hurts. But not as much as it’s bound to hurt her by the end.
And indeed it does, as it kickstarts what initially starts off as a funny setup where Marinette and others stay quiet and try to be supportive while inwardly cringing as Alya creates and manages a blog dedicated to the worst person ever sans Hawk Moth and Gabriel Agreste.
Adding to this is that said person won’t give Alya or her blog the time of day. Chloe has no respect or appreciation for the level of commitment Alya has or how much Alya helped her to get her fame, and even calls Alya a “stalker” at one point. (Not that she’s technically wrong to be fair, but bear with me.) This is a testament to Chloe’s view of heroism as a whole and her expectations regarding the treatment she should receive. Nevermind that Chloe’s initial rise to the spotlight was in great part because Alya was the one to put said spotlight on her in the first place. Chloe doesn’t acknowledge favors, only what she is owed.
This puts Alya in a difficult position. Unlike Canon, she doesn’t have the support of a hero to promote her blog. She is a teenager with no preexisting status as a reporter and no real connections or backing for people to take her seriously. And in a world of already established media and tons of fans like herself no doubt also trying to make names for themselves in similar niche areas, she has nothing to really make herself stand out. What ends up working for her is the live footage she gets of the akumas and the battles, which is exceedingly dangerous and puts Alya in danger. But to her, it’s worth it to be able to enjoy her two passions.
It is painful. It HURTS me to see Alya so devoted to someone who I know full well doesn’t deserve it and it hurt even MORE to see how Alya was finally forced to face the truth. Her reaction was real. Her difficulty accepting the truth that we all knew from the start and that Alya could have (and probably should have) picked up on as a journalist if she only investigated everything outside of the “Heroes WOW” light.
But this doesn’t make me look badly upon Alya. It’s not entirely her fault. It’s reasonable that Alya wouldn’t have known. Given Scar’s refusal to work with anyone outside of publications that “meet her standards”, Alya hadn’t gotten to interact closely enough with Scar to really see her “in action” so to speak. Not for some time.
Alya does ultimately end up finding the truth, but it’s not the one she initially went searching for. What started out as a love for heroes mixed with her interest in journalism slowly turned into a realization of what heroism actually is and who the true heroes are…and aren’t.
And with this realization comes a new outlook, new alliances, new goals, and a new plan to reveal the truth about Scar and just who is really the hero or the “sidekick” in the heroes team.
This here? This gives Alya purpose. It also emphasizes her role in the story and the impact she has. Because over time, the thing that most showed her flaws and ignorance became a major strength—AND ended up benefiting the city as a whole.
She was the only person who actively tried to help Chat when he was on the run in Copycat and gave him the info to know what was going on and who the true culprit was (especially important because Adrien had NO way of knowing what was going on or why he was being framed and Scar certainly wasn’t going to help).
She gave Lila and others a chance to share their stories that otherwise never would have been told. Especially notable given Alya’s initial dislike of Lila for her lies, something she continued to hold a grudge over for a long time after.
And as a result, she is a major contributor to Scar’s declining popularity as she helps spread the truth. Which adds a nice bit of irony to the situation that the little blog that gave Chloe her start and that she ignored ended up becoming something so major that it destroyed her narrative. 
Alya had been seeking the truth, been blinded to it, struggled to accept it, went out of her way to confirm it, and then shared it. Maybe it’s not as impressive as taking down the akumas directly, but it has a much greater overall impact on the story and helping get some of that sweet sweet karma we’d all been waiting for. And best of all, she does the one thing that many of us have also been wanting for Canon: to have SOMEONE investigate Hawk Moth and realize the puzzle pieces are pointing at Gabriel Agreste. 
If only she could have confirmed it a little sooner…
3. Alya as a Person
Alya is a teenager. She is a teenage girl and that shines in Scarlet Lady.
We see her PUMPED at the discovery of heroes in Paris. We see her genuinely EXCITED over the prospect of being a hero. We see her flip her focus and be SERIOUS over serious and not so serious things. We see her unapologetically and hilariously reject Adrien’s pleas for a trade of jobs only to be a hypocrite and turn around and beg him for the same. We see her get terrifyingly ENRAGED at Nino for changing her script without discussing it with her. We see her be PETTY and RESENTFUL over falling for Lila’s lies. We see her be IN LOVE after Animan. Plus how could I not love her sheer GLEE over getting to face off with Nora?
But what really made me love this Alya and put her leagues above canon is her growth. Growth that she didn't really get in Canon. And a lot of that growth was evident through her discovery of the truth that was right in front of her and how she had gone so long without seeing it.
And when she is finally hit with the reality that her hero is no hero and that she was wrong? It’s hard. No kid wants to admit being wrong about anything, but especially not about a belief like that. Not the idea of heroes and not over your hero specifically. Especially when you realize you spent so LONG devoted to something only to find out you were wrong, other people knew, and you could have/SHOULD have known had you really tried to look.
And Alya….did NOT take it like a champ.
Denial was the name of the game. But her growth came in acknowledging that she was wrong, WHERE she went wrong, and taking steps to move forward with what she knew. Not by doubling down and demanding “evidence” that should have been easy to find if she just looked, but by investigating the truth even if it’s one she knew she wouldn’t like. And even if it involved things she didn’t want to do. To this end, she made up with Lila and the two actually ended up working together to change the tide of public opinion against her over time. 
Let’s note that: She went back on her earlier promise to herself, forgave and worked with someone that she disliked, and let go of her own pride and resentment in order to get to the truth that she originally never wanted to acknowledge.
Alya in Scarlet Lady plays more of a role in the series than she did in Canon. She wasn’t just “Marinette’s best friend” and “Ladybug fangirl” or a tool or prop for setting up certain scenes where Marinette suffers or Adrinette is given a half hearted attempt.
Alya is her own person. She disliked someone the others like or come to like. She adored someone the others and even we as the audience couldn’t stand. She stood up to her sister for herself and with the backing of her friends. She was silly at times for all that she tried to be serious and mature. She was oblivious and opinionated. She was wrong about a core issue to the story.
And that was perfectly okay.
Not because the narrative said so. Not because anything she did was hand waved. Not because Marinette or anyone else was thrown in as a scapegoat to distract attention away from her.
But because Alya is a well-written character with a personality that makes her a PERSON rather than a prop. Which makes her development into a hero feel rewarding rather than an obligation.
4. Alya as a Hero
Okay, Sapotis in Canon wasn’t bad. It worked as a new hero episode. It worked as the FIRST new hero episode. It made sense for Alya to help corral her sisters. I loved Trixx and his subtle means of testing Alya. It also had Alya getting some personal development as she changes from her initial stance of wanting to reveal her identity as a hero to knowing when to keep some truths hidden.
The problem is that lesson didn’t really stick as Alya goes on to demand a truth from Marinette that isn’t her right to know, try to force Marinette to tell a truth when she isn’t ready to reveal it, and betray Marinette’s trust and reveal the secret just to make things easier for herself and her relationship with Nino.
Gotta say, not impressed with Alya as a hero in Canon. Especially given how much the narrative had gone out of its way to keep portraying Alya as being in the right in each instance she was involved in regardless of what she actually did.
Then there’s the matter of the issue of her getting the Fox Miraculous after everything that happened with Lila and the complete LACK of Fox Vs Fox/Alya VS Lila/Truth VS Lies setup that such a setup would have been primed for. And if they weren’t going to do that or even anything with Alya and Trixx, then what was the point of giving Alya the Fox? There was just really nothing else that came out of a truth-seeker like Alya getting a Miraculous specifically involved in setting illusions and how that could develop her character.
@punchlord has already done multiple evaluations of the characters and Miraculous and which ones would best/least fit and why, and has done so much more detailed and eloquently than I can really offer here. Instead, I want to focus on SL!Alya and the changes Zoe made.
Here’s the thing: we all knew going in that Zoe was going to follow Canon for the most part. She admitted as such. We also knew that some kwami-swapping was bound to happen as a result of the changes to the world. Chloe gets the Ladybug. Marinette gets the Bee. Sabrina was bound to get something at some point that wasn’t the Dog. And yes, Lila too.
But NONE of us were expecting that Alya and Nino would swap their Miraculous AND their hero episodes!
And it worked. It worked so well.
Koki Marina is an awesome hero with such a stand-out look. And the one image of her playing with her fluffy hair always makes me smile.
The changes Zoe made vastly improved the Anansi storyline. Nino deserved his own hero episode that wasn’t just focus on him secondary to an issue for Alya and ultimately accomplish nothing on his own while someone else solves the problem for him...twice. And Alya deserved to be the one to deal with Nora and take control of her life.
The thing is, this was an episode with a lesson that was misplaced. Misplaced andmishandled, much like many episodes in the original series.
In Anansi, the biggest problem wasn’t that Nino couldn’t prove he could protect Alya, it was that Nora was overstepping on Alya’s life in the first place, especially when it wasn’t necessary. She didn’t consider that ANYONE ELSE could protect Alya—even the heroes when it is their job to fight the akumas. 
But more specifically, she wasn’t willing to consider that Alya could protect HERSELF. Especially of note considering that by this point in both versions, Alya had been running around and getting involved in the fights with the heroes for blog views. And in Canon specifically, Alya had already been a temp hero—I was surprised and disappointed that Alya didn’t argue more and struggle with NOT revealing that fact in the episode. But I digress…
If Alya was to get a hero episode, this was the better setup for it. And Zoe saw that and provided us that sweet sweet payout, with Alya proving herself and helping to take down her older sister. And just the absolute GLEE she had in doing so. The sort of glee you’d see in any younger sibling getting a chance to take on and show up their older sibling. All the younger siblings out there should know it. 
Plus her and Wayzz bonding, omg they are so cute.
While Canon Sapotis was decent (if not a bit frustrating with the lack of lessons for the twins after all their antics), in my view, SL Anansi actually HIT in all the right ways and felt more satisfying overall in comparison as Alya’s hero episode and ESPECIALLY in comparison to the Canon Anansi itself. 
It’s a good episode with a stable episode-centric arc, where the conflict starts with Alya NOT really being able to face down Nora alone and only manages to overpower Nora in an arm wrestling contest because her friends back her and take on Nora in a 4 on 1 match and overpower her together. This is highlighted later in the episode when Alya faces Nora alone to buy Marigold time and is shown to struggle. Then gets the power boost through the Turtle Miraculous that lets her effectively take her down save her. Cough. Yes. Just save her.
It’s a very empowering story for Alya. But it plays a bigger role than that, too. It’s not just the start of Alya being a hero, it’s also the point where she really starts to turn things around in terms of the overarching story of the comic.
This episode is the follow up to Sapotis, where the other characters are having a sleepover partly to look after the younger kids but also specifically to try and support Alya as she comes to terms with the realization that her hero is a fraud. Yes, Alya already knew that Scar was horrible by the time Anansi happened, but actually being a hero and having to work with Scar gives her an up close and personal look at how Scar treats the other heroes and how much—or rather little she actually does in a crisis.
It’s also the point where Alya seems to gain more confidence and also direct her reporting to a better end. And by the end of the episode, we really see Alya starting to use her skills to this purpose. This is when we get to see Alya actually BE the journalist she wanted to claim she was.
This? Right here? This goes to show that not only does Alya herself make a great hero, but that becoming a hero helped Alya improve herself as well. Which is something we should be seeing more of in such stories with teenagers gaining superpowers.
So all that being said, SL Alya succeeds where her Canon counterpart fails. The narrative points out when she’s wrong. She learns lessons. She is silly at times and acknowledged to be silly. But through it all, she retains the heart that makes her a good friend and the passion that shows her to be not only a journalist, but a HERO in the making.
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colossrat · 3 days ago
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keranos? like the magic card?
Batman: I ask that when leaving, anyone who agrees with the approach proposed by me and Superman signs the pamphlet next to the door.
And then the heroes come out, whoever thinks it's a good idea to be discussed again at the next meeting signs with their hero name. but Captain Marvel was the first to sign, so he didn't see how the others signed and didn't know if he should use "Captain Marvel".
He has an argument with Solomon inside his own head that lasted a little less than a second, and in the end they come to a consensus that he can sign as one of the many names of the champion of magic. but they were so… simple… billy decided to add some details, a signature worthy of an entity that's zibilions of years old and a store of immense magic.
The other day, while Billy is "saving" some kitchen leftovers in his pocket dimension, Batman arrives and approaches him while holding a paper.
Batman: Captain… What did you put in the signatures?
Marvel: oh? hmm, my name?
Batman: your name... Can you tell me how to pronounce it?
Marvel: oh. Yes? Ahm, its Keranos. sorry, its hard to read?
Batman: no, it's okay. It was what I thought it could be. It's just that I never found these types of letters before, despite the similarity with the current alphabet…
Marvel noticed that he exaggerated a little with the decoration in the signature: yeah… it's a-- rune language that died a long, long, time ago, but I tried to mix it up a little with the letters from the current world so it wouldn't look so strange. The sound of the pronunciation is "keranos", so in our alphabet it could be written with k-e-r-a-n-o-s… Next time I'm going to use the normal alphabet, sorry… I… I didn't think that much when I wrote it.
Batman: of course. Don't worry captain. I can't imagine what it must be like to live in a world where your name can no longer be written the way it should be.
Marvel: its... ok, i like Marvel a lot too.
Batman: So… would you like us to start calling you Keranos?
Marvel: well, if you want, of course, I have no problem. It's one of my oldest names. but you don't have to if it's confusing, you know, me having several names.
Batman: don't worry. It's a pleasure to meet you, Keranos.
Marvel: The pleasure is mine, mister batman sir!!
There are several league members hiding in the hallway near the kitchen, whispering.
Flash: that's so cool! Marvel is so tight with his personal information, but he's letting go, he even gave us one of his names! That means he's finally opening up, right?
Wonder Woman: Indeed. Keranos… This name is familiar to me from the stories my sisters and I told each other. a god of the wrath of storms…
Hal: Just like the magic card???
Superman: I remembered that too. It's literally the definition of the creature, isn't it?
Hal: technically it's only a creature if your devotion is less than seven, anyway. even the way it is written.
Flash: my god, you are two nerds.
If one day they ask Marvel about the magic card, he will be genuinely confused because he didn't know it. billy never had the money to buy these games.
"oh, is there a game card with my name? a god of storms? wow, I'm embarrassed, I didn't know that name had been kept alive by these stories haha"
I was playing with Billy and Marvel's signature, thinking about how they would write differently in each form, and I ended up thinking about this
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I don't know if the captain's fandom took keranos from the magic card, but that's what I found when I looked up the name and I thought it was brilliant
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ablobwhowrites · 1 day ago
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New home sweet home au, ( just saw the y/n is abnormally strong post) so one day one of the bigger bodies are fighting about who gets the TV remote or the last cookie. Idk, idc, so y/n trying to defuse the situation. Knowing if they don't a wall will be broken. Picks up one or both of the bigger bodies and drags them into a time out corner. The rest of the crew blue screens realizing that y/n if pushed could have done so much worst in the factory.
y/n never really yells at the toys but does at Harley Sawyer cause that's the only way that old machine man listens. But the one time y/n did accidentally reveal a small bit of their strength is when they where playing a game on the console and ended up dying in the game and y/n got real angry cause they were so close to the end of the level so they ends up breaking the coffee table in half by punching their fist on the solid wooden table and y/n saw their hand all bloody and went to go wash it off and bandage it.
Dogday was scared that y/n punch through a solid coffee table with their bare hand. Once y/n got in a argument with Harley and ended up having y/n get really angry cause Harley wasn't listening and basically doing the thing y/n told Harley not to do and y/n grabbed Harley's arm and basically when y/n let go of Harley's arm, it left the hand printed bend in his arm and it's scary to Harley because y/n was visibly restraining themselves and Harley thinks of what y/n would be capable of if they weren't so restraining of themselves.
I do imagine just once y/n got annoyed how yarnaby was sitting in the way again so just normally picked up yarnaby like nothing and put him to the side and walked through as yarnaby just didn't mind it and sat in the way again but the other toys where like "HE WEIGHTS A TON! HOW DID YOU EVEN DO THAT!" But y/n just doesn't mind it as its a good way to build their strength but also imagining sometimes y/n is able to carry doey for very short periods of time before having to put him down. But doctor Harley does not like being picked up as I said, he is a pathetic man who craves power but has none anymore so basically hates being told what to do and sometimes annoys y/n to the point as you said in this request, y/n will psychically grab the doctor and force him to sit in a corner with the stool and everything.
I mean no exaggeration but y/n could have killed the toys who tries to kill them with their bare hands but didn't. Y/n sometimes things how things could have been more different if they only acted on them surviving. But instead they stopped themselves and helped the toys as they didn't know the kids were turned into this and have been made into monsters. Wondering if y/n did kill the toys who tried to kill them then what would that make y/n? A monster just like the people who experimented on them? Or what they were trying to do, to survive.
(that's it for my yap session. Please if you like this or have any requests for ideas, stories or y/n's please don't be shy. But for now please stay safe and drink water!)
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melodyreads · 2 days ago
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Only threw this party for you
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Hamzah x (fem)reader
Description: It's the reader's birthday and she decided to host a "rager". Her friends are skeptical as she's never been interested in hosting parties. Little do they know, it was all planned with the hope that one person in particular would make an appearance.
a/n: I'm sure you can tell from my profile pic that I'm a huge Charli fan lol. This idea came to me as I was playing this album on repeat. Hope y'all enjoy <3
---
The bass thumped against the walls, the thick air overbearing with the smell of spilled drinks and hot bodies. You had never been one for house parties—especially not the kind filled with strangers you barely knew. But this made the party all that much more appealing right? Tonight was different.
Tonight was a gamble.
Your friends had raised their eyebrows when you’d proposed the idea. "Since when do you throw parties?" Taylor had asked, skepticism lacing her tone. You’d only shrugged, feigning nonchalance, while anticipation clawed at your ribs. You have just recently moved into a new apartment with lots of space, so this could be your chance to show it off. While everyone else thought this was just a random burst of spontaneity, you knew better.
You’d planned every detail of this night with one hope in mind:
that Hamzah would show up.
Hamzah had been your friend for years— at least, that was how you would describe him. You weren't even sure if he felt the same way anymore. Your friendship teetering on the edge of something more but never quite crossing that line. That was until one night you had said a few more words then you should have.
---
It had been late, just the two of you lingering in the glow of streetlights after the rest of your friends had gone home. He always walked you home.
His arms rested in his pockets as he looked down at you smiling while you recited a story you found hilarious.
"Can you believe that? She went that far all for some guy. I can't even imagine."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "I mean, people do crazy things for the people they like."
You laughed, a little breathless, but his smile made your heart skip. It was like there was a quiet understanding between the two of you, a connection that lingered in the spaces between your words.
As we arrived at my apartment, something in the city air made me feel a bit too confident. Suddenly, words tumbled from your lips before you could stop it. "Honestly, I can only imagine going that far if he was someone like you."
Too much.
Hamzah stopped dead in his tracks, mouth agape with wide eyes.
You had let your guard slip.
He hadn’t responded right away. His gaze had flickered, searching yours, his lips parting as if to say something—anything—but nothing came. The silence stretched too long, thick and suffocating, until finally, he had only managed a quiet, "I should go."
___
That was the last you had heard from him in weeks. You were too embarrassed to phone him or go by his house and apologize for making the situation so weird.
You tried not to scan the crowd too obviously, though your heart shot up each time the front door creaked open. Friends mingled, and people you barely knew were making out in corners. Almost everyone was enjoying themselves, dancing in dim lighting without a care in the world. Someone had taken control of the playlist, swapping your mix of what you liked to call, "gay club music" with Nettspend.
Still, no Hamzah.
You were starting to lose hope.
You went outside in an attempt to cool off. The view was the highlight of your new place. The city lights shined brightly as you looked down imagining what the rest of the world was doing tonight.
What he was doing.
Your head turned to see the steam rolling off the newly integrated pool on your balcony. Beside the view, it was your favorite part of the apartment, and one of the main reasons you fought so hard to secure this place. You looked back through the door you came from.
No one seemed to notice you were even gone.
You slowly removed the short dress you were wearing. As you kicked it to the side, you plunged into the warm water.
The warmth of the water wrapped around you, contrasting against the crisp night air. You let yourself float, eyes closed, taking in the sacred peacefulness. You felt your heart start to ache. You weren’t sure if it was the remnants of disappointment or the burn of anticipation that you couldn’t quite shake.
When you finally broke the surface, slicking your hair back and blinking against the city lights, your breath caught in your throat.
Hamzah was there.
Sitting by the edge of the pool, laying back on his arms, watching you with an unreadable expression. His dark eyes bore into yours with an expression almost unreadable The golden glow of the city cast soft shadows across his face, making the moment feel almost unreal.
You suddenly became acutely aware of your lack of clothes.
Your stomach twisted as embarrassment crept up your spine. You opened your mouth to speak, to explain, to maybe make a joke and defuse the tension, but nothing came out. He beat you to it.
“You always do this,” he said in a deep but quiet voice.
Your brows knitted together. “Do what?”
“Run away.”
You swallowed hard, shifting in the water as you hugged your arms around yourself. “I thought you were avoiding me.”
Hamzah let out a breath, shaking his head. “I wasn’t. I just… I needed to think.”
You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure what to say to that. The air between you buzzed with an unspoken weight, the memory of your last encounter hanging between you like a feeling you couldn't shake.
Then, in the silence, he said it.
“I like you.”
Your heart stuttered.
“I’ve liked you for a while,” he continued, his voice softer now, like he wasn’t entirely sure how to say it. “And I freaked out when you got close because I didn’t know if you felt the same.”
You stared at him, chest rising and falling too quickly. The warmth of the pool did nothing to ease the chill spreading through your veins—not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of his words.
You started to move towards him.
Reaching for the ledge, you pushed yourself up slightly, just enough to get the bottom half of his clothes wet.
The space between you dissolves into nothing. Your fingers found his jaw, your fingers finally meeting at the side of his mouth before leaning in.
The moment his lips met yours, it was like everything clicked into place.
Your mouths moved against each other in fever as if you were both making up for lost time. Which you definitley were.
In one swift movement, he pulled you out of the water completely so that your drenched body was straddling his. The tension that had been lingering for weeks melted in the heat of the kiss. He tasted like the city night and something inherently him—something you had been wanting for longer than you cared to admit. His hands found your waist, fingers pressing into the slick fabric of your bra, grounding you in the reality of it all.
When you finally pulled away, foreheads touching, his breath mingling with yours, you couldn’t help but smile.
"So..." Hamzah said out of breath, "Who’s the lucky guest of honor?”
You shrugged, ignoring the way your pulse betrayed you. “Dunno. Just… felt like celebrating.”
He chuckled at this, something dark in his eyes shined as he leaned in close enough for only me to hear.
“Happy birthday, then,” he murmured, voice softer now.
Maybe—just maybe—the gamble had paid off.
---
a/n: Just wrote this in my 365 partygirl shirt hope I channeled the vibes. Thank u for reading <3333333333333333
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froegis · 16 hours ago
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but it’s not funny. why would wishing rape on anyone ever be okay? no matter who they are or what you think they believe? in what circumstance is that ever a valid wish? because you think pro-life people are actively forcing women to give birth, and each one of us is a malicious man who hates women and is okay with rape? have you ever talked in depth to someone who is pro-life, asked them what they think and believe, without getting your information from a biased source catered to your viewpoint, without immediately deciding they are evil because they have a different point of view, without deciding what you think they believe?
to clear things up, talk about abortions that occur because of inconvenience, which is the majority of abortions (which is what we try to talk about most of the time, but pro-choice people often choose to clump all types of abortions into one big category, equating abortions of rape with abortions of convenience.) so abortions not of rape, not of incest, not to save the mother, all of which you conveniently focus on in this conversation without addressing the reason 90% of abortions occur.
abortion is used massively as birth control when people have sex, get pregnant, and decide they don’t want to face the consequence of that action. deciding to “prevent a clump of cells from becoming a baby”, as you so delicately put it, is killing a baby for your own convenience, after choosing to have sex and choosing to face the risk of getting pregnant. that’s what that is. preventing a clump of cells designed to BE a baby is killing a baby. “preventing something from living�� is the same thing as killing.
i am a woman, so you cannot possibly throw out that prolifers have no empathy for women when there are prolife people who are women. how does that not click?? you are literally just saying words to say words and incite negative emotions in the reader. there are so many women who have been through hell yet still believe that clump of cells you think is nothing is actually a growing human being with a future. i have met a girl who went through the craziest shit imaginable done to her by her immediate family, and she had a kid. it’s absolutely tragic, and yet she still told me how much she loves her little girl, and that she doesn’t understand how someone could think of ending the life an innocent human before they even get the chance to breathe. i know that’s just a case of one person and i don’t intend to use that as a catch-all argument by any means. i only want to call attention to the women like her, and i want to make it clear that they exist and you erase their survival and insult their dignity when you throw such accusations around.
still don’t understand how wishing rape on someone could be excused, yet here you are, excusing it with a premise that is entirely false and not at all the reality of prolife people or our beliefs.
and im pretty sure wishing rape on anyone is evil. no matter what. that should be pretty clear, out of anything. there is nothing that could ever excuse that. the hatred you speak of, which you claim we push onto women having abortions, is coming suspiciously from your own mouth.
i’m truly curious about how you would treat a woman who had sex and got an abortion as birth control versus a woman who was raped and decided to keep the baby because she believed it would be wrong for her to get an abortion. if she decided to speak up about it, would you support her as a survivor? would you hear her out or listen to a word she says? or in your eyes, is she a woman-killer and a forced-birther because she identifies as prolife and advocates for something she believes (which by the way, is no different from what you do)?
what is the difference between these two hypothetical women? i am genuinely curious what you think, because i have seen people who are pro choice praise the woman who got an abortion for exercising her right to bodily autonomy, then turn right around and wish the other woman more rape and death for keeping the child and for advocating for something she believes to be true with her whole heart (which, again, is no different from the other woman). and i truly cannot understand the logic behind that.
there is no excuse. wishing rape on anyone, regardless of their beliefs, is no less evil than the prolife person in your brain who is actively “forcing” women to give birth.
I think all pro-lifers should be raped, forced to have the baby (no exceptions), and become forced to raise it for 18-20 years just to see how it feels
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shockercoco · 21 hours ago
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Better Late Than Never
Bucky Barnes x reader
Warnings - fluff, some kissing, Valentine’s Day shenanigans, flirty!Bucky
Word count - 2167
a/n - Happy Valentine’s Day everyone, especially to all my fellow single readers! I’ve somehow ended up in my Sebastian Stan era again, so I thought why fight it. It’s been a while since I’ve written an imagine, and I’m feeling a little rusty, but I hope you all enjoy and thanks in advance for reading :)
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“What’s got you smiling so much?” You ask Wanda as she sits down across from you.
It was Wanda’s idea to meet up for lunch after finding out about the rough morning you had, and she had also told you that she had some good news to share that might cheer you up. 
You had woken up late for work, couldn’t find your car keys, and when you reached the halfway point on your journey to work, you realized you didn’t have your phone. Today just wasn’t your day.
“Remember how I said I had some good news?” Wanda asks, her smile huge as she leans in and rests her elbows on the table. When you nod, she continues. “Well, Vision surprised me at work and finally asked me to be his girlfriend! He brought me flowers and everything.”
Yeah, today just really wasn’t your day.
“That’s really great, Wanda, but how exactly is that supposed to cheer me up?” you question, giving her a small smile to soften your words.
“Because you were the one who suggested that I should confess my feelings to him, and you’ve pretty much been with me every step of the way,” Wanda tells you. Her expression then turns into confusion. “Is something wrong?”
You honestly were really proud and happy for Wanda, and if this were any other time of the year, your reaction would’ve been different. But it’s not. Valentine's Day is at the end of the week and you just want the week to be over with.
While you were walking down the street on your way to the restaurant, you walked past a woman getting proposed to in the park. While you were waiting for the light to change in order for you to cross the street, you saw a couple making out. As you walked past a street vendor selling flowers, you overheard the vendor making conversation with a man who was apparently looking for the right flowers to buy his crush. Now, Wanda hits you with this.
“No, nothing’s wrong,” you quickly shake your head. “I’ve just had a weird day.”
She looks at you for a moment longer, not fully believing you. “Hmm, there’s something else. Tell me.”
You let out a laugh. “Wanda, I’m fine. It just…it’s nothing really. I’m good.”
“It’s just what?” Wanda asks. When you hesitate again, she adds, “We’re not ordering until you tell me what’s up,” she smirks at you. 
A small groan leaves you, before you speak up, “It’s just that Bucky hasn’t asked me to be his valentine yet, and this is our first Valentine’s Day as a couple. It stupid, I know. I shouldn’t even be upset.”
“No, it’s not stupid. Have you mentioned how you feel to him?”
“No, I didn’t think I had to since he’s always surprising me with gifts any other time of the year. I just figured this would just happen naturally, but nothing yet.”
“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. After all, it’s still the beginning of the week. Who knows, he could just be waiting for the actual day to come,” Wanda says, and when you don’t say anything, she places a hand on top of yours and continues, “I’d honestly be surprised if Bucky does absolutely nothing for you. Everyone knows how obsessed he is with you.”
That makes you smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I am, and when Valentine’s Day comes and he still hasn’t asked you to be his valentine, call me, I’ll hunt him down,” Wanda tells you right as a waitress walks up to the table to take your guys’ order. She catches the end of Wanda’s sentence and has a confused, yet amused look on her face. “Sorry, just relationship problems.”
The waitress laughs as she says, “Don’t worry I understand.”
Later that night when you're at Bucky’s place for a movie night the two of you had planned the week before, you can feel Bucky looking at you repeatedly while your eyes are still on the screen. You’re cuddled up into his side with his arm wrapped around you, but you still notice the constant shifting of his head.
You finally give in and look up at him. “Is there something on my face?” you ask him, your tone teasing.
Bucky’s confused with your question. “No, why?”
“Because you keep looking at me.”
“What, I can’t admire my own girlfriend anymore?”
“It feels more like staring than anything,” you tell him, and Bucky just laughs.
“Well, then I’m sorry,” Bucky apologizes as he places a hand on your cheek to lift your head up. He leans down to place a gentle kiss on your lips, a smile still tugging on the corner of his lips. When he pulls away, he still keeps the distance between the two of you small as he looks into your eyes.
“Seriously, what is it?” you whine as you playfully shove him away from you, causing him to laugh. He knows how much you hate it when he does that. “Is there something bugging you?” you casually slide in the question, slightly hoping that he would use this time to ask you to be his valentine.
“No, there isn’t,” he laughs and pulls away, turning his attention back to the screen, but keeping his arm still wrapped around you. “I’m done, I promise.” 
He misses the slight drop in your expression, but you quickly fix your face before looking back at the tv as well.
As the week goes on, you try to focus on more important things, but as Friday continues to get closer, your hope continues to diminish. You and Bucky continue to text normally throughout the week, but when Thursday afternoon comes Bucky calls you to let you know that he’ll be going on a mission the next day. On Valentine’s Day.
“I’m sorry it’s such short notice, doll, but Steve needs me,” you hear Bucky softly tell you through the phone. You’re sitting on a chair in front of your window watching people pass by with Bucky on speaker.
“Oh, no it’s okay, I understand,” you say, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice. “How long will you be gone?”
There’s a moment of silence on the other end, before Bucky speaks, “A couple of weeks.”
Weeks? 
Your heart drops at his answer and you feel your throat start to tighten. You quickly mute yourself to clear the tears from your throat, before unmuting.
“Are you sure it’s okay?” he asks, noticing your delayed response. 
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? There’s people out there that need you,” you speak up.
You catch sight of your neighbor’s boyfriend walking up to her house with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You momentarily forget you’re on the phone and unintentionally let out a frustrated sigh at the sight, catching Bucky’s attention.
“Listen, I can probably get out of it. I’m sure Steve doesn’t need me that bad, there’s a whole team of people that are available to help out.”
A sad laugh leaves you. “Bucky it’s fine, I promise. He’s your best friend and he specifically asked you because he wants you, so go.”
“If you insist,” you hear Bucky sigh “I know you’re upset, though, so I promise to make it up to you when I get back, okay?”
That makes you crack a smile. “Okay.”
When the next day rolls around, you take your time getting out of bed. Unfortunately, you had the day off today, which of course you would’ve been happy about under different circumstances. 
You decide to keep yourself busy and do some chores to pass time, but by the time you’re done cleaning every crevice and doing laundry, it’s only four in the afternoon.
At some point, Wanda calls to check up on you and asks if you wanted her and Vision to come over and have dinner with you. Vision was planning on cooking for just the two of them, but he told you he had no problem making more. Although the two of them both repeatedly insisted they didn’t mind making the drive to your place, you declined.
It felt wrong to intrude on a special night like tonight. 
After telling Wanda and Vision that you would just order in, the two of you finally end the call.
You weren’t currently that hungry so you decided to just order something later. You make yourself comfortable on the couch and decide to put on a tv show you’ve been wanting to watch. 
A couple episodes later, you finally start to get hungry, and right when you’re about to place an order, your doorbell rings. You shake your head thinking it was just Vision and Wanda coming to share their food, but as you look through the peephole to see Bucky standing outside holding a bouquet of flowers and a stuffed animal you had been wanting, your heart drops along with your jaw.
You look down at your outfit and contemplate quickly changing, but decide against it.
“Wh-what are you doing here? I thought you had to go on a mission?” you ask when you open the door.
“Surprise!” Bucky greets you with a bright smile. He leans in to give you a kiss, before whispering, “Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart.”
Bucky can see that you’re still shocked and at a loss for words, so he just laughs as he pushes past you and makes his way inside. You close the door behind him and watch as he makes his way into the kitchen and lays the flowers on the counter along with the stuffed animal.
“As much as I’m happy that you’re here, why are you here?” your eyebrows are furrowed as you lean against the counter, your arms folded across your chest. 
Bucky sends you a smirk as he quickly puts the flowers in water before making his way over to you. He places his hands on your waist as closes the distance between you two.
“You didn’t really think that I’d miss our first Valentine’s Day together, did you?”
“I didn’t even think you remembered, I mean you haven’t said anything about it all week,” you tell him.
“Yeah, Wanda told me you were a little upset,” Bucky mentions and your eyes widen.
“What a traitor, she wasn’t supposed to say anything,” you say slightly embarrassed as you look off to the side. Then a thought hits you, and you look back at him. “Wait, did you just come here because of what Wanda told you?”
“No, I was already planning on coming here tonight.”
“But what about your mission?” you ask, still confused.
Bucky smiles. “There never was a mission, doll. I made it up because I wanted to surprise you. You really thought I would spend today with Steve instead of you?”
“...Well, he is your best friend.”
“That’s true,” Bucky nods, grabbing your hands in his and placing kisses on your knuckles, “but, you’re my best girl,” he whispers as he looks into your eyes, causing butterflies in your stomach and your face to heat up.
What were you upset about again?
A chuckle leaves Bucky as he watches you shyly smile as you look away.
“You could’ve at least said something this whole week,” you tell him.
“I know, I know,” he admits, “but I was trying to get everything together.”
“Get what together?” you ask.
Bucky stays silent for a moment as if trying to find the right words to say. Then he says, “I want you to move in with me.”
Your eyes widen and your breath hitches as you stare back at him. “What?”
Maybe you inhaled too many chemicals while cleaning.
“I want you to move in with me,” Bucky repeats. “I know we’ve been dating for less than a year and I completely understand if this is too fast for you, but there’s plenty of room for you at my place and I would be much happier if I was able to have you next to me when I wake up every morning.”
Oh. 
You blink.
“You’re serious?” you ask, even though there's no indication on his face to tell you he’s lying. 
Bucky lets go of your hands to place his on either side of your face. “Completely. Like I said, you’re my best girl.” He watches a smile slowly form on your lips. “So, what do you say?”
“Yes,” you say, and Bucky’s grin grows wider, but you hold your hand up. “Don’t start smiling yet, I wasn’t finished.”
Bucky quickly fixes his face and tries to suppress his excitement. “Of course, continue.”
“I say yes, only if you agree to never pull anything like this ever again.”
“Ever?” Bucky repeats, raising an eyebrow.
“Bucky!” you playfully hit his chest.
“I’m just kidding,” he laughs, leaning in to kiss you. Then he pulls away just enough to murmur against your lips, “I’ll just wait until you forget.”
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