#and I’m saying that we should get this one
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
livinghalfway · 2 days ago
Text
Seeing Double
Damian is always annoyed when he has to deal with kidnappers wanting to make some quick cash hoping to ransom him back to his father. As much as he wants to just fight them, and be done with it he knows that he can’t. Father had told him repeatedly that in order to maintain cover he couldn’t deal with these types of issues when he was supposed to be nothing but a regular civilian. 
Someone from the family should be showing up soon though as Damian had pressed the distress beacon as soon as he noticed that he was being followed by some very obvious criminals. That are only going to be referred to as idiot A and idiot B in his mind. 
Which is why he mostly complies as they grab him from the van and proceed to drag him inside an old rundown building where two other criminals, idiot C and idiot D, are already waiting with grinning faces. What immediately sets Damian on edge though is when they notice their entrance those smiles instantly disappear. 
Idiot A and B don’t seem to notice their fellow criminals' sudden shift in attitude though. 
“It seems we were the ones to find the Wayne brat after all boys! Bets a bet fellas, and I’m expecting payment in the form of dinner.” Idiot A dragging him farther inside announces to the room before noticing the other two don’t seem to be sharing his excitement. “Come on guys just because Jakob and I won the bet doesn’t mean we’re not all getting paid today! No need to look so down.” 
“But we won the bet? Damian Wayne is already tied up in the other room.” Idiot C says as he confusingly looks between Damian and a door off to the side. Whoever was confused for him is mostly likely on the other side then. Great, another thing he will have to worry about while he’s here. 
Idiot B grabs his shoulder and even shakes Damian as he speaks, “No, this is Damian Wayne!” 
All four of them are now staring at him before Idiot D speaks up, “I still think the other kid is the real Damian.” 
“It doesn’t matter which one is the real Wayne kid. Our plan still works; we can still get our money! Just- just tie this one up, and put him with the other one. We still have a schedule we need to stick to.” 
Now, Damian knew that when he saw the other boy being held here that they would probably have similar features, but he wasn’t expecting to actually see his own face looking back at him. More correctly though his long thought gone twin brother’s face. 
He’d recognize that face anywhere; he gave Danyal that scare after all. 
599 notes · View notes
goldsbitch · 1 day ago
Text
Kiss with a fist
To his twins, the world is ending. To Lando, it’s another exhausting reminder that parenting might actually be harder than racing.
or - No boys allowed near the girls from now on, especially not his rivals' son.
warning: dad! Lando, none, fun, domestic 3k word count stand alone part of Norris Family Polaroids
//
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
There is a loud crying sound coming from the room the seven year olds share and Lando has never felt so old in his bones. He'd just come back from an exhausting race and those don't exactly get easier with age. In times like these, he longs for the days when he was in his first years in F1, blissfully unaware of just how capable and seamless his body was. Anyway. No time to sulk in. One of his daughters is in distress and the day he does not respond to that will be the day he willingly puts himself up in jail.
He gets up from the couch and rushes over to the kids room. The crying is not stopping and when he enters it somehow starts clicking all in. He kneels down and hugs Maya, who looks like is determined to cry her eyes out. Meanwhile, Olivia is sitting on her bed, exceptionally quiet and has never looked more suspicious in her life, ever.
"We need to keep a closer eye on Liv, I think she's teasing Maya too much these days" he recalls Y/N saying over the phone one late evening. It was an early morning call for him, due to the timezones, but he remembers it clearly. He brushed it off, telling his wife that it's getting late over back home and that she should go and get some sleep while she can. But right now, assessing the current situation, he is not so sure about his previous judgement. Long gone is the time he was scared of being a bad parent, of fucking up. He's come to realization that he will inevitably fuck up - not in the same way as his parents, but in a completely new and original way. The fact they were blessed with twins making it that more likely to happen. He's hugging and caressing one daughter, while eyeing the other. Olivia has this look in her face and his stomach sinks down deeply, because he has seen this look before. In the mirror, many times. He was what most would consider a peaceful quiet child. Unless it was him and his sister alone. He'd tease her mercilessly, wait for her to start crying and then play innocent. His parents fell for that so easily.
And now, he's looking at his own daughter, who stares right back at him, and they both know. He shakes his head, making sure Maya does not see and while it does make him mad, it makes him less mad that it should. Because ultimately, he knows that him and his sisters grew up just fine and this teasing eventually stopped. Still, his other daughter is wallowing in his arms and he can't ignore that.
Maya is the first one to speak. "Daddy...I don't want to have a baby," she leans back from his embrace and pouts at him in a way only seven year old know how. So raw, honest and unfiltered.
Lando must have misheard her. “Come again, sweetheart?”
He brushes few tears away. At least she’s not sobbing anymore and is focused on trying to get the words out. “I don’t want to have a baby, I’m too young for that”.
It’s hard not to agree with that. She is seven years old.
He smiles gently, trying to somehow untangle this. "Why would you have a baby?" Another stream of tears and cries follows and she wraps herself in his arms again. He sighs, as it is does not get easier with time to hear your little daughter cry and he looks up to Olivia, who's still sitting on her bed. He's not mad per say, but he's silently asking her to help him find an answer to this all. This is the first time that Liv's expression shakes up and cracks away, hinting on either guilt or at least a sorrow she feels at the sight of her own twin crying. Good, Lando thinks. He tries as much as he can to avoid automatically blaming her for anything without having enough information about the situation. But, his it's hard to ignore his intuition.
He turns to Maya again. "Sweetie, why would you have a baby? You're so young?"
Maya's voice trips over her own sobs, but she finally speaks again. "I...I kissed a boy today."
Now - hold on. First of all, why is his seven year old daughter kissing some boys? He feels himself tense up. Of course he knew this days would come, but he was silently hoping for ten more years of keeping his little angels as they were. Just young, tiny kids running around playing tag. Not kissing boys, girls or whomever. "Who did you kiss?" he can't stop himself from asking, silently hoping he does not know the parent of said boy, because there is no way of preventing himself from making the "concerned parent phone call". Monte Carlo is small, there is only few nursery schools around here. It's an everyone sort of knows everyone kind of situation. "Maya, don't worry - you're not in trouble," he adds, trying to make sure he keeps up on having his daughter willing to tell him stuff like that. She is not in trouble - the boy is. Lando used to be a boy. He knows what's up.
Maya's lip is trembling and her eyes are wet. He can't bear that sight. "Sweetheart, you're not pregnant. I'm sure of that," he consoles her and after few moments of deep thought, she seems to believe him. She ask once more for confirmation. His answered is interrupted by his other daughter, who now looks equally concerned as Maya was just a minute ago.
"But she is pregnant. That's how it works. Boys at the playground said so," she speaks, oh-so-sure of her claims. He face is serious and has a sense of fatality around it. He begins to understand how other children would fall so deeply under this spell.
Ah, Lando thinks and the penny drops. He runs his hands through his hair and has to chuckle just a bit. He doesn't want Maya to think he’s making fun of her, but the absurdity of the situation is too much. He leans back on his heels, looking between his two daughters. Maya’s face is still flushed from crying, and Olivia is sitting with her arms crossed, looking like a pint-sized prophet of doom.
He clears his throat, trying to sound as serious as possible. "Okay, let's get something straight out of the way. Kissing someone is not how you get pregnant," he speaks and his mind briefly flashes to the panic he and Y/N felt the moment they found out she was pregnant with the twins. It's been a long time ago and enlightening journey since, but he can somewhat understand the sentiment. He tries to ground his children down some more. "Look at me and Mommy. We kiss all the time and she is not pregnant, right?"
Olivia seems intrigued. "So, how do you get pregnant?" He looks at her and curses himself for walking right into that one. It's clear in her face and maneurism that she is going to be a very difficult teenager one day. "Ask Mommy when she comes back," he blurts out, not at all prepared for that talk. He's also already mentally ordering apology bouquet for his dear wife for throwing her under a bus like that. He turns to Maya again. "Anyway, you don't worry. You're not pregnant," he caresses her cheek and once she really does seem more calm, he asks. "Now - who kissed you?"
Maya glances at Olivia, and Lando notices his other daughter watching with laser focus. Olivia’s lips are pressed tightly together, her expression that of someone who knows something and is dying to spill it.
“Do you want me to tell him?” Olivia asks suddenly, looking unable to contain herself any longer.
“Liv,” Lando says with a sigh, shooting her a warning look.
“What? I already know who it was,” Olivia says, folding her arms across her chest with a dramatic flair that only a seven-year-old can pull off. He averts his gaze to Maya, who looks like is ready to fess up.
"You're not in trouble," he says and hopes he can keep up on his promise.
She tenses up and something tells Lando he actually does not want to know. "It was Lucas." Too late. “Lucas,” he repeats, his voice carefully neutral.
Maya nods slowly, her cheeks flushing pink. “Lucas Verstappen,” she specifies. Lando feels his stomach drop. Max Verstappen’s son. Of all the boys in the world, it had to be Lucas, the mini version of the Verstappen gang and what one would call a true heir of their infamous blunt approach to life. If this is true, it marks the beginning of a lifetime of headaches. His poor, sweet little daughter - one he'll have to protect until forever.
"And she kissed him too!" Olivia nearly screams out, letting her opinion on this known by the judgy tone.
Lando eyes grow wide and he silently thankful for Olivia spilling it like it is. Maya's guilt ridden face gives it away all. "Maya, honey, aren't you a little young to be kissing boys?" he asks rhetorically, because of course - his little angel should definitely not be doing that.
"I would never kiss a boy! They are gross and annoying," Olivia blurts out, ever-so-competitive. He's not sure what scares him more, Maya who's running around kissing boys or Olivia, who reminds him of himself more each passing day. Let's see about that, Liv, when in ten years I'm warding off boys from your window, he thinks, but does not say it out loud.
"He kissed me first!" Maya defends herself and snuggles into Lando's embrace more. He sighs. It's not been the quiet chill down he expected to return to.
"Okay, ladies. Let's all calm down. How about some ice-cream?" he offers, hoping that cheap bribing will buy him some time to think. The sudden cheers confirm it and he's adding another five flowers to the bouquet for Y/N, knowing she won't condone this.
//
He's watching his daughters munch on the impromptu ice-cream sundae, both of them sitting silently on the kitchen counter, apparently dead set on destroying their pajamas with colorful stains.
The name Verstappen still rings in his ears. They're suppose to have a little family get together tomorrow and for some reason, that's starting to increasingly bother him.
He excused himself for a moment and goes to the balcony, making what he fears is one of the first distressed "my daughter kissed someone" call in his life - and not the last one. Headache. That's what it is.
The phone rings twice before Max picks up, his voice sounding tired and politely annoyed.
“Lando. What’s up, mate? Is it urgent, I'm kind of dead tonight.”
Lando takes a deep breath, trying to sound calm. Oh, you and your son will be dead very soon.
"Hi Max, yeah, it sort of is," he murmurs, trying to think his strategy through. "We have to cancel tomorrow, something came up." Genius. That's who he is. Now, he just has to move his family away from Monte Carlo and make sure Maya never meets Lucas Verstappen ever again. Problem solved.
Max doesn’t miss a beat. "Cancel? What do you mean cancel? Lucas has been talking about seeing the girls all week." Of course he has. Lando groans internally. Of course Lucas has been excited. This wasn’t just any hangout. This was apparently the next chapter in their little playground romance.
"Yeah, not gonna happen, mate," Lando insists, leaning on the balcony railing, running a hand through his hair, overlooking at his dearest angels, who will need his infinite protection. "We can’t do it. Something came up. Okay, bye."
Max is quick enough to speak before he manages to hang up. "Wait, what? If it's a problem for you and Y/N, we can just take care of the kids, no problem."
Is it the whole Verstappen family that wants to take his precious daughters? Lando knows he might be overreacting, but he is a tired man with a resposibility over two seven year old. Cut him some slack.
"No. Canceled. Bye," he says and kills the call. There, all sorted. He immediately goes on figuring out some back up activity for the family, something that will sound so exciting that they will all forget about the Verstappens.
Max calls him right back and he does not pick it up.
The young father goes on putting the girls down, everyone is now calm and there are no more pregnancy scares. He is good at this. Everything is great. Just as the girls are tucked into bed, eyelids drooping and calm finally restored, Lando’s phone buzzes once more. He glances over at it, expecting Max to be trying again. Instead, he sees Y/N’s name flashing on the screen.
“Hi, love,” Lando answers, trying to sound casual. He winks at his daughters, who are always excited when Mommy's around. “How’s dinner?”
“It’s nice,” Y/N replies, but her tone has an edge, the one where he knows she’s about to interrogate him. “How’s everything at home? The girls okay?”
“They’re fine,” Lando says quickly and decides to leave the kids bedroom, so that he can pace around, as he always does when Y/N sounds like that. “All good here. No problems.”
There’s a beat of silence. He can feel her narrowing her eyes through the phone. He can hear the rush of the restaurant she's at, so her calling him must have a pretty good reason.
"Mm hm. So why did you cancel tomorrow’s hangout with Max and his family?"
Lando rolls his eyes, his brain scrambling for an answer while cursing Max mentally. Ugh. “Uh… something came up?”
"What "something," exactly?" Y/N presses, her voice filled with wonder.
"Just… things," Lando says vaguely, mentally kicking himself.
"Things," Y/N repeats flatly. "Lando, Max is suspicious. He just called me, distressed, asking what was going on, and now he thinks you’re mad at him."
This fires him up again. "Well, I am mad at him! So he got that right." Saying this makes him feel like the child in this scenario. Headache. Again.
Y/N sighs. "Did something happen on the track?" he asks patiently.
"What?" he asks, confused. He shakes his head. "No, no, it's um...The girls don't want to meet Lucas tomorrow, that's all."
Even he can't believe his tone.
"The same girls that spent the whole of yesterday excited about the bouncy castle they have at home?" she speaks with almost annoyed tone now. Lando groans, resting his forehead on the cool countertop. He does not have an answer. Just as he's about to fill her in on the whole kissing debacle, he continues. "Look, unless they're sick or something, can you please call Max and talk this out? I'm at the dinner and I can't just spend it all on the phone with my husband and his friend. Call him and talk it out."
Why is life so hard on him? "Do I have to? Can’t we just-"
"Lando," Y/N interrupts firmly. "You canceled without an explanation. You absolutely have to."
"Fine," he says, defeated. "Have a nice dinner, honey. I miss you," he concludes genuinely.
"Me too," Y/N says, her tone softening slightly. "I’ll check in when I’m on my way home. Love you."
"Love you too," Lando mutters, hanging up. He stares at his phone for a moment, then reluctantly dials Max’s number again.
It rings twice before Max answers, his voice dripping with faux innocence.
"Hey man. What the fuck?" Verstappens - always the pleasure.
"Max," Lando starts, rubbing his temple. "How are you? All good?" he asks politely, like the Brit he used to be once.
"What the fuck do you mean, how am I. You cancel out of nowhere and now Lucas won't talk to me, so yeah, great night off for me," he hears unfiltered tone coming through the speaker. He can't say it does not please him a bit.
"Well, it's late, he should be sleeping anyway," Lando let's out of his mouth before he thinks that through, ragging Max even further.
"You stop giving me instructions on how to raise my child and act like an adult for a moment, would you?"
"If someone should act more adult, it's Lucas," Yeah, Lando. Great comeback. Wow. The eight year old should act more like an adult.
Max manages to brush over that. "Did he do something to the twins? You need to tell me these things, how am I suppose to fix it if I don't know what happened? Or if something has even happened?"
It's hard to fight that logic. Especially after the evening Lando has had today. Lando sighs. There’s no way out of this, so he decides to just rip off the band-aid. "Maya told me… that Lucas kissed her. The silence on the other end is deafening. "And she kissed him back," Lando adds, cringing.
Max’s response is immediate: he bursts into laughter. "Oh, my God," Max wheezes. "Lucas and Maya? That’s amazing."
"It's anything but amazing, Max,” Lando snaps, pacing around again. "She thought she was pregnant because of something the kids on the playground told her! Do you know how much emotional damage I’ve endured in the past hour?"
Max is still laughing, clearly delighted. "Mate, you’re overreacting. They’re small. It’s harmless."
"This is the first boy she’s kissed, Max!" Lando argues. "Your son is now part of her origin story!"
"Oh, please," Max says, still chuckling. "What do you think is going to happen? They’ll run away together? They’re kids, Lando. Relax. It's normal for the to do this."
"I can’t relax," Lando grumbles. "And what’s worse, Olivia is now convinced she’s never falling in love because, and I quote, "boys are gross.""
Max cackles again. "Honestly, that’s probably for the best. Liv’s smart."
Lando's cup of patience, small one to begin with, is truly overflowing.
"Alright, alright," Max says, finally calming down and sensing that teasing Lando is not the way to go about it tonight. "Look, Lucas is a good kid. He probably just thought Maya looked pretty and didn’t know how else to say it. I’ll talk to him, alright? But you don’t need to cancel tomorrow over this."
Lando hesitates, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He knows they would all team up against him anyway. He lost this one. "You’re sure he won’t try anything else?"
Max snorts. "What, like propose? No, Lando, I don’t think so. He’s seven."
Fine.
//
The sound of children’s laughter fills the Verstappens’ backyard, the air warm and bright with sunlight. Like it's all mocking Lando specifically. The infamous bouncy castle stands in all its glory. Lando leans against a chair at the patio table, his arms crossed as he surveys the scene with the intensity of investors watching their car getting overtaken on track.
Maya and Lucas are bouncing together, grinning ear to ear like they’ve completely forgotten the events of yesterday. Meanwhile, Olivia stands off to the side, arms crossed and nose wrinkled in distaste, looking like she’s silently judging the entire scenery. She’s probably drafting her manifesto on why boys are, indeed, “gross.” Lando feels proud. At least one of his daughters is strong enough not to fall for cheap boy's tricks. Not even Y/N seems to understand the gravity of the situation. No matter how long Lando spent trying to explain it to her. Cute, that's what she called it. He hopes this is not a precedent. For now, he stands alone.
"You’re watching them like a prison guard," Y/N comments, nudging Lando gently as she sits down beside him.
"And for good reason," Lando replies, narrowing his eyes at Lucas, who’s apparently successfull at making Maya laugh. "He’s already made a move once. I’m not letting it happen again." He will sit happily sit in every playground they happen to encounter each other at.
Y/N hides her smile behind her coffee cup. "I think we’re safe for now. They’re just kids, Lando. You don’t have to treat Lucas like he’s some F1 rival trying to steal pole position from you."
"He is trying to steal something," Lando grumbles under his breath. Max strolls over, holding a plate of snacks, like the responsible dad he pretends to play, and looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Enjoying the show?"
Lando gives him a side-eye glare. "You think this is funny, don’t you?" Max smirks, popping a grape into his mouth and just nods.
"Your son traumatized my daughters yesterday," Lando fires away.
Max rolls his eyes. "And now they’re bouncing around like best friends again. Kids bounce back back. In this case, literally." Oh, he thinks he's so funny.
As if on cue, Lucas lands a little too close to Maya, sending both of them tumbling onto the floor of the bouncy castle in a fit of giggles. Lando tenses, halfway out of his seat before Y/N grabs his arm.
"Relax," she whispers. "It's fine." "For now," Lando protests, settling back reluctantly. From across the yard, Lucas suddenly stands up and calls out: "Mr. Norris!" Lando freezes, his eyes narrowing as the devil child approaches him. "What?" Lucas grins, holding up a flower he’s picked from the garden. He's rushing over to his and hands it to Lando, eyes filled with expectation and anticipation. "This is for Maya!" Speechless Lando accepts the flower, albeit confused as to why he's handing the flower to him and not to Maya, if she's the supposent recipient. Lucas flashes one look towards his father and in the corner of the eye, Lando can see Max nod approvingly. They really have all teamed up against him. Everyone is watching them and waiting for something exiting to happen. Olivia, the only one having Lando's back, lets out an audible groan loud enough to be heard across the yard.
"Oh, come on," she says, throwing her hands in the air. “This is ridiculous. I’m never falling in love. Ever!”
Y/N snorts into her coffee, Max doubles over laughing, and Lando buries his face in his hands. Meanwhile, happy Lucas runs back to the bouncing castle.
"Why is my life like this?" he wonders, looking up the sky for answers. None come. Y/N pats his shoulder affectionately. "Because you’re the dad of two amazing girls. And one of them might have a little crush. It’s not the end of the world."
"It’s the beginning of the end," Lando mumbles dramatically. Max grins, leaning closer. "You know, if Lucas and Maya end up together, we’ll officially be family. Imagine that, Lando," he pauses dramatically. "Maya Verstappen."
Lando's stomach turns upside down, he groans and turns to Y/N. "We're moving to another continent."
The domestic afternoon continues, adults laughing and talking - apart form Lando, who sits in his observant position, regularly sighing, back leaning and forth in his chair. It’s going to be a long, chaotic road ahead. And it looks like he's the only sane person around - in his opinion exclusively.
----------------------- note: fire up them ideas for this pseudo series!!! love you all
521 notes · View notes
theorphicangel · 2 days ago
Text
maybe I’m thinking about the moment sukuna sits yuji down and finally tells him the truth about him and reader
( full fic before this is here but not needed to read this drabble!!)
sukuna finally sits yuji down, it’s only the two of them in the living room with sukuna’s twin brother, Jin, away at work.
yuji was busy playing with his fire truck in front of the couch until he hears his uncle to come sit next to him.
'hey yuj' come here for a sec'
the little one comes by, his toy fire truck that sukuna had gotten him for christmas still in hand. his eyes are wide and curious, giving his uncle his full attention. just at this sight, sukuna feels his stomach drop.
how the fuck was he supposed to break it to a six year old that you won't be around anymore? yuji practically worshipped you, from the first time that he introduced the two of you, yuji got obsessed. he followed you around and bombarded you with questions, asking every little thing about you. he gave you his shitty drawings and you kept them, putting them on your fridge. you'd make time to sit and play with him, diving into yuji's imaginative world a whole lot better than sukuna ever did.
you were patient and caring around him which sukuna appreciated a lot, it made yuji look up to you and treasure you greatly.
but now...well it's not the same. you haven't come by in weeks and yuji's began to question your disappearance.
'well...' sukuna hesitated, his tongue suddenly caught in his throat. what were the right words? how should he phrase this correctly so that his nephew doesn't end up in complete tears?
'yuji, you know-'
yuji cuts him off, stating your name.
sukuna lets out a dry cough, 'yes...about her' he can't bring himself to say your name. '...well we broke up. a couple weeks ago.'
sukuna lets his words digest. yuji looks down at his lap, fiddling with his truck, trying to comprehend. 'broke up?'
'yeah,' sukuna sighs, 'we're not seeing each other anymore.'
silence forms in the living room excluding the clock on the wall suddenly loud in its tick-tick-tick-tick.
'so...she won't come over anymore?'
'no, she won't'
'oh, okay.' there's clear sadness in the six year old's voice, immediately disappointed and now sukuna understands what his brother meant when he said that it would hurt yuji more than it would hurt him.
sukuna throws a hand at reassurance. 'it's okay bud because you still have me... and-and we'll do fun things together alright?'
yuji nods before speaking again, reflecting a little.
'but aren't you sad?'
sukuna wasn't prepared for that question. he struggles to come up with a quick answer, hesitating. 'yeah...i am.'
'i don't want you to be sad 'kuna' yuji mumbles, kicking his feet.
'it's okay yuji, i'm-'
sukuna's words are cut off by yuji coming in for a hug. his toy is discarded with yuji now focused on the task of wrapping his tiny arms around sukuna's large frame. sukuna shifts yuji onto his lap and returns the hug.
sukuna barely hugs his nephew, only in circumstances where he knows he won't see yuji for a long time.
'i hope you feel better soon.' yuji mumbles, his voice muffled. sukuna says nothing more as suddenly his throat is caught and words fail to escape from his lips. if it didn't hit him before then it sure does hit him now.
he hopes yuji doesn't notice his eyes getting blurry.
412 notes · View notes
xiaq · 3 days ago
Text
Story time: Amazon can go fuck itself, and other genteel thoughts.
Good evening. I’m angry.
Up until now, I’ve purchased the majority of items I can’t thrift from Amazon because it’s easy and cost-effective, despite the moral qualms I have about the company. Previously, support was simple. If an item was damaged or a package didn’t arrive, you hopped on chat/the phone, provided proof, and they gave you a refund or return label.
But some shitstain from on high has introduced a new “incident report” process when something goes wrong. You submit your details, you wait 72 hours, and then they give you a refund. This would also be fine. If it fucking worked. But I have, at this point, irrefutable evidence that this is not actually how the process is intended to work. It’s meant to drive you so far up the wall that you either die from a stress-induced heart attack, or rage quit, and they get to keep your money.
In the last several months, I’ve had to submit three incident reports for damaged and undelivered items (I’m also encountering a lot more issues with item delivery, but that’s a different story).
ALL THREE TIMES, the process has taken weeks rather than days because ALL THREE TIMES they conveniently “had no record” of multiple incident reports I submitted despite the fact that I had confirmation emails each and every time.
Now, I’m a petty bitch, so even though the hours I was spending checking in, waiting on hold on the phone, being passed from agent to agent, was not worth the $10 and $20 refunds I was trying to get them to honor, I wasn’t going to give up. This last time, though. Oh they really tried.
So. My item isn’t delivered. I submit an incident report on the 12th and get my confirmation email of the submission on the 12th. I haven’t heard back by the 14th so I call and check. Shockingly, they have no record of my report. I submit another one, get another confirmation email. I call back the next day to check they received it. They have not. I beg them to let me forward the confirmation emails I have. I ask what else I can do different. They tell me to submit a new report and hang up on me. I submit another report. I receive another confirmation email. I call the next day. Can you guess? They have no record of it. This time, I ask for them to stay on the line with me while I submit a new report and confirm it’s been received. He confirms receipt and promises I will receive a response by the 21st. I record this conversation because I have a suspicion.
Hello. It is the 21st. Have I received a response? No. I call back. THIS ASSHOLE, who I’m pretty sure is reading this shit from a script, says, (are you ready for this) “There’s no record of an incident report, you’ll need to submit one.” I insist that I had confirmation in writing and verbally. She insists it does not exist.
So I tell her. I now have four confirmation emails. I have a recording of an Amazon support person with their credentials assuring me with the product number stated, that they’ve received my report. I also have been recording this conversation. And if she cannot assist me, I will be posting those emails and both recordings to every social media platform I have, filing a BBB complaint, and checking with my lawyer to see what options I have for legal action (do I have a lawyer? Of course not. But she doesn’t know that).
Immediately, she is backpedaling. “Oh, let me check again, maybe I missed it.” Less than 30 seconds later she’s back on the line. “I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, I do have your report here. I will process a refund now.” Shocking. I am shocked.
IT SHOULD NOT TAKE THIS MUCH EFFORT TO GET A COMPANY TO HONOR THEIR PROMISED LEVEL OF SUPPORT.
Jesus Christ.
B and I will be finding different local places to purchase items we tend to buy via Amazon now, because I have every intention of ending our Prime membership. It looks like between Costco and Target we should be covered.
Anyway. No point to this except to rant. Thanks for reading if you got this far. I’m going to go lay under the weight of my dog and try to get my heart rate down.
244 notes · View notes
persicipen-archive · 2 days ago
Text
𑑛 “ARMOUR-CLAD HEART” ノ MYDEI. HONKAI STAR RAIL
gn reader ノ words 0.9k ᯽ mydei teaches you some self-defence. reader is not made for fighting and rather weak. an awkward display of affection from mydei’s side lol ノ no proofreading, we die like kremnoans ᯽ FLUFF ノ GENERAL CONTENT ᯽
Tumblr media
You hear a displeased click of his tongue — nothing surprising given your stance and previous pathetic tries at blocking his fist — and take a step back with your face embarrassingly hot. His fake hit was nowhere near fast nor strong, just a mere presentation of where such an attack would come from and land at the end.
“You’d be dead within a second on the Strife’s battlefield. Or perhaps should I even say that a mere thug would get through your defence with little to no preparation?” Mydei’s gaze moves all over you in a judging way, and it takes your every strength not to look away.
“I’m not made for battle! You wouldn’t see me anywhere near it. It’s just way too hot today to focus.”
Another loud “tch” escapes his lips, now much more annoyed and agitated than before, as if he has already completely given up on any hope for you. A blazing sun over the terrace is no excuse to stop the lesson, or perhaps it’s precisely because of its presence.
“Surely someone with an ill intent would wait for you to be comfortable and well prepared for their arrival, am I correct?” He snickers in a sarcastic tone, leaving a short pause to give you another opportunity to oppose him.
But again, this time not only is his attitude towards you harsh and insulting, but his words make complete sense, and they burn with embarrassment even more than the scorching heat that surrounds both of you.
Maybe you’re simply spineless and will forever be even under his tutoring. You bite your lip, trying not to appear weaker than you already are, knowing very well that there will be absolutely no use in defending yourself anymore. But it doesn’t matter now. What does he plan to do next?
Your body tenses up out of reflex only seconds before his warm palm wraps around your arm, turning you around effortlessly while pressing your back against his own chest. An uncontrolled gasp leaves your mouth as you are left immobilised in an instant and the forced proximity feels even hotter than midday, yet the one behind you pays no mind to it, completely focused on keeping you in place.
“Most people would assume you cannot get out of this hold unless you’re physically stronger than the aggressor.”
You feel every slight breath he makes pressing harder on you. Not to mention how his voice sends pleasant shivers down your spine by being so close to your ear. All the discomfort disappears the second a faint memory reappears in the most unexpected of places. The way he holds you reminds you of something entirely different from sparring.
Curse your mind, it doesn’t help to focus at all and it’s especially shameful when Mydei’s not affected; calm and composed, with a fiery spark running along the red marks on his body.
“You’ll most likely always have a free hand or two. Instead of wriggling them mindlessly, use one to press on the bottom of your opponent’s nose or even punch them. The nose is always sensitive, even under the slightest pressure.” He eases the grip around your body and demonstrates what he just said and although he doesn’t apply force at all when bringing his knuckle above your cupid’s bow, you squirm involuntarily in an attempt to escape.
But since he never lets go of your other arm, there’s nowhere to run.
“Now, try it yourself.” Yet instead of waiting for your move, his hand — armoured in golden claws, a trap for your smaller palm — grabs yours and brings it behind towards his face. You peek over your shoulder, a little afraid.
To add on top of everything, he is as serious about this sparring lesson as ever, not paying attention to the closeness between your bodies. The red lines decorating his chest seem brighter than usual, with sweat glistening along his collarbones and hair dishevelled by the breeze.
Your heart skips a beat in anticipation when you are almost certain he’s about to kiss your fingers instead, but in the last second, he inches away and brushes them against the underside of his nose. “Here. Remember this.”
“I’m sure that my enemy won’t navigate my hand towards their weak spot.” A shaky sigh of disappointment escapes your lips.
He chuckles lowly at your comment, raising the corner of his mouth in a sardonic smile.
“You’d rather aim blindly than focus on where and what to attack? You’ve just earned the disapproval of the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos.” He moves in front of you, abruptly pausing all physical contact. “Be thankful that I’m not only willing to teach you how to defend yourself but also for that I will protect you with my own strength as long as you’re near.”
He pushes a damp strand of hair out of your face, the lightest touch of his bare finger causing more tingles to travel down your spine. At the same time, he flinches when realising what he has done and lets his hand drop to his side; the victorious glint in his golden eyes changes to bewilderment. His armour rattles at the subtle gesture of humanity and betrayal of his emotionless posture.
“We’ll practice again until you gain the approval from me. Do not expect me to be lenient.” The heat spreading on your cheeks becomes a problem only after Mydei finishes the sentence and moves away with haste, surely caused by his discomfort.
A gentle breeze runs through the illuminated terrace and cools your skin. You watch him walk away without turning around (you wish he would). This feeling of shame mixes with admiration and unadulterated curiosity to stir up something completely bizarre in your heart.
A pomegranate-sweet infatuation with the prince.
Tumblr media
314 notes · View notes
channiesbakery · 24 hours ago
Text
yapper —
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
prompt / request — "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry."
pairing — reader + boyfriend!dino
word count — 561
genre — fluff
Tumblr media
you and chan have a nightly routine that you liked to follow. you’d get ready for bed, freshening up and changing into comfy clothes before crawling into bed together.
you’d both have your nightly tik tok scroll— well, you’d scroll on your phone while chan watched along with you, questioning you about a current trend every few videos.
“what do you mean peeling an orange is a sign of love?” he questions when he sees the videos of people asking their significant others to peel oranges for them.
you explain the trend for him before he somewhat seems to understand. “I’d peel a hundred oranges for you,” chan says, kissing the top of your head before he’s silent for a moment, seemingly deep in thought.
“you okay?” you turn back to face him. “i wonder if my hyungs would peel an orange for me…” he mumbled mostly to himself.
it’s not long before you end up on seventeen tik tok, seeing all the edits and fancams.
“aw look at kwannie,” you show him the cute fancam. “why are you, my girlfriend, watching a seungkwan fancam and not one of your boyfriend?” chan scoffs before grabbing your phone to look for fancams of himself, making sure to give all of them likes.
after ending up on a weird side of tik tok, you decide that’s enough social media for the night, shutting off your phone and turning off all the lights.
chan’s chest is pressed against your back, his arm loosely around your waist as he rests his chin on the top of your head.
you always knew your boyfriend was a bit of a yapper, but his need for conversation just seemed to increase every time you’re about to fall asleep.
“do you think i should create a new character for the next gose episode?” he asks. “baby, i think you have more than enough alter egos.” you tell him, shutting your eyes and trying to fall asleep.
but the silence doesn’t last long before he’s starting another topic.
“would you love me if i was a worm– i could probably do the worm so much better if i was actually a worm.”
“that new cafe just opened in the city, we should go this weekend. i heard their matcha lattes are amazing.”
“do you think i should start a new hobby? maybe knitting… shua has all his crafty hobbies, maybe knitting could be mine.”
“actually… it seems like it takes too much patience and what if i stab my eye…”
“do you ever wonder why people count sheep and not other animals? like why not count chickens?”
you only mumble short responses to him as he switches topics nearly every other sentence.
he finally goes silent and you’re just about to finally drift off to sleep when chan speaks up once again. “are you still awake?” he whispers.
“no,” you grumble tiredly. “oh okay,” he replies and you think he’s finally going to go to sleep until you hear his soft voice again.
“hey baby?” he says softly and you just hum in response. “i love you,” chan mumbles against your hair.
“i love you too channie, but if you don’t stop yapping I’m kicking you out of bed and you’re sleeping on the couch.” you threaten.
230 notes · View notes
honeyandpumpkins · 12 hours ago
Text
guys. i’m a researcher. there is literally no reason to believe that these studies are nefarious. the VA is one of the premiere centers for psychology research in the US, and it has for awhile now supported LGBTQ+ research because LGBTQ+ veterans often face additional challenges and the VA, which is literally a health care center for veterans, wants to attend to that. if you go on any of the studies the consent form should outline the ethics review board process, which is how you know it’s legit. obviously you don’t have to take any of these studies, and chances are you shouldn’t because they are probably for veterans specifically. i saw someone in the notes say that the VA can’t be trusted because they’re recruiters, and no, once again, they are a health care facility for veterans. they play no role in recruiting people for the military. i saw someone else say that you should poison the data by giving them bad answers and no, please don’t do that, you would be disrupting the real actual scientific work that people are trying to do.
i get that people are feeling tense and scared, i am too. but this kind of conspiratorial fear mongering without evidence isn’t helpful. instead let’s focus on what we know to be true
Tumblr media
21K notes · View notes
neferaskingdom · 1 day ago
Text
♡ Two Lattes and a Truce, Please | MV1
NEFERASKINGDOM
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: WAR IS OVER
Tumblr media
PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT
Tumblr media
Max barely had time to react before George slammed him harder against the wall, his forearm pressing into Max’s chest. The eerily calm facade George had worn moments earlier had shattered, his eyes burning with unrestrained fury.
“How dare you?” George hissed, his voice low and shaking with rage. “How dare you go after my sister? Was this some twisted ploy to get back at me?”
Max blinked, stunned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” George snapped, his volume rising. “Do you hate me so much that you thought screwing my family was fair game? What kind of sick—”
“That’s enough,” Max growled, shoving George’s arm off his chest and stepping forward. His tone was sharp, cutting through George’s tirade. “This isn’t about you, George. This was never about you.”
“Oh, don’t give me that bullshit,” George shot back, his fists clenched at his sides. “You’ve been dating her for over a year, Max! Behind my back! You can’t stand me, fine, but don’t drag my sister into this mess. And now—” His voice cracked slightly as his fury spiked again. “Now, you’ve got her pregnant?”
Max stiffened at the accusation, his jaw tightening. “Yes, we’ve been together for over a year. And no, this wasn’t some game or some vendetta. I love her.”
George let out a sharp, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Love her? That’s rich coming from you. You’ve spent years with a reputation for flings and one-night stands, and now you expect me to believe you’re suddenly the poster boy for commitment?”
Max’s eyes flashed. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about her. And you don’t know anything about us. She’s not just your sister, George—she’s my everything.”
George’s face twisted with a mix of anger and betrayal. “We used to be friends, Max. Before all this… tension, before the media shitstorm, I trusted you. And now I find out you’ve been sneaking around with my sister, lying to me—”
“We weren’t sneaking around to hurt you,” Max cut in. His voice softened slightly, but the edge remained. “We didn’t tell you because we knew this is exactly how you’d react. You wouldn’t have given me a chance.”
“And why the hell should I have?” George shouted, taking a step forward. “You could’ve come to me! You should’ve come to me! Instead, you lied to my face for a year, Max.”
Before the argument could escalate further, a panicked voice echoed down the alley.
“George!”
Both men turned to see Y/n running toward them, her expression a mix of frustration and fear.
“What the hell are you doing?” she yelled, her voice cracking. “George, let him go!”
George hesitated for a fraction of a second before releasing Max, stepping back but still glaring at him.
Max rubbed his shoulder, muttering, “Nice timing.”
“How did you even find us?” George asked, his tone clipped.
“Alex,” Y/n panted, shooting Max a look. “He saw you dragging Max into this alley and told me to come save his life before you did something stupid.”
Max snorted despite himself, but Y/n quickly rounded on him. “You—go. Let me talk to him.”
Max frowned, clearly reluctant. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Max. Go,” she insisted, her eyes darting between him and George.
After a tense moment, Max exhaled sharply and stepped back. “Fine. But I’m not going far.”
George’s jaw was tight as he stared down at Y/n, the tension in his posture palpable. He hadn’t moved since Max left, his silence heavier than any shouting match they’d ever had.
“George,” Y/n started softly, her voice trembling. “I’m so sorry for avoiding you. I didn’t know what to do, what to say. I was scared.”
“Scared of what?” George snapped, his tone clipped but not loud. He wasn’t angry enough to yell anymore, but his voice was laced with hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me, Y/n? I thought we shared everything.”
She flinched at the edge in his voice. “I didn’t want to disappoint you.”
“Disappoint me?” he repeated incredulously, stepping closer. His voice dropped to a near whisper, raw with emotion. “You could never disappoint me. But lying to me for over a year? Keeping this from me? That’s not like you.”
Her chest tightened, and tears pricked her eyes. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, George. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you. You’ve made it so clear how you feel about me dating other drivers. I didn’t want you to—”
“To what? Disown you? Hate you?” He let out a short, bitter laugh. “You’re my sister, Y/n. Nothing, nothing, could make me hate you.”
Y/n bit her lip, the weight of his words cracking through her defenses. “I was afraid,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “Afraid of how you’d react, afraid you wouldn’t approve. Max… he just…” She trailed off, searching for the right words.
George raised an eyebrow, his arms crossing over his chest. “He just what?”
“He grew on me, okay?” she blurted, throwing her hands in the air. “Like a fungus! He’s annoying and stubborn and so full of himself sometimes, but he’s also… sweet and caring and—”
“Fungus? Seriously?” George interrupted, giving her an exasperated look.
“Don’t make fun of me right now!” she snapped, glaring at him through her tears. “This is hard enough as it is.”
George sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Alright, fine. Fungus. Go on.”
She hesitated, taking a deep breath. “Before I knew it, I was in love with him. And I was terrified of what you’d say, of how you’d look at me. I didn’t want to lose you, George. You’re my big brother. I need you.”
His expression softened slightly, but the hurt in his eyes remained. “You never had to worry about losing me, Y/n. But you’ve got to understand how blindsided I feel right now. You’ve been lying to me for a year. A whole year. That’s a long time to keep something this big from me.”
She nodded, her tears spilling over. “I know. And I’m sorry. But I couldn’t keep hiding it. I love him, George. I love this baby. They’re my family now, but I don’t want to lose you in the process. Please don’t make me choose.”
George’s gaze dropped to her stomach, where her hand rested protectively. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his defenses cracking. “You’re really having a baby,” he murmured, almost to himself.
Y/n nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. You’re going to be an uncle.”
The words seemed to hit him like a freight train. His eyes widened slightly, and for the first time, his anger gave way to something softer—something vulnerable. “An uncle,” he repeated, as if trying to wrap his head around it.
“Yeah,” she said again, a small smile breaking through her tears. “And judging by that face, you’re already a mess about it.”
George blinked rapidly, as though trying to hide the tears forming in his eyes. “I’m not a mess,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat.
“Oh, please,” Y/n teased, stepping closer. “You’re totally about to cry. Look at you. Mr. Stoic is cracking.”
“I am not,” he insisted, though his voice wavered.
Y/n let out a watery laugh, poking him lightly in the chest. “You’re going to be such a softie with this kid. I can already see it—Uncle George, buying them whatever they want, teaching them how to drive a go-kart.”
He shook his head, finally letting out a small laugh despite himself. “Don’t push your luck.”
She smiled up at him, her tears drying as the tension between them eased. “I mean it, George. You’re going to be an amazing uncle.”
George looked at her for a long moment, his emotions written all over his face. Finally, he stepped forward and pulled her into a tight hug, holding her as if he never wanted to let go.
“I’m sorry for how I reacted,” he murmured against her hair. “I just… I didn’t know what to do. But I’m here now. For you, for the baby—for all of it. I promise.”
Y/n clung to him, her own tears returning but this time from relief. “Thank you,” she whispered.
As they pulled back, George’s eyes flicked to her stomach again, a small, hesitant smile tugging at his lips. “An uncle,” he said again, softer this time.
“Yep,” Y/n said, grinning. “And I fully expect you to cry when you meet them.”
He rolled his eyes, but the warmth in his gaze betrayed him. “Not a chance.”
“We’ll see,” she teased, poking his shoulder.
George held Y/n in a tight embrace, his protective big-brother instincts still warring with the softer emotions breaking through. As he finally pulled back, his eyes flickered with something sharper. He crossed his arms and glanced toward the direction Max had left.
“Just so we’re clear,” he said, his tone firm, “I might have forgiven you, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven him.”
Y/n groaned softly, already dreading where this was going. “George, come on—”
“No,” George cut her off, raising a hand. “You lied to me, yes, but Max went behind my back for a year. A year, Y/n! And then he let this whole thing explode in the most dramatic way possible.”
“It wasn’t exactly planned,” Y/n muttered, cheeks flushing.
George scoffed. “Planned or not, he’s got a lot to answer for. I’m willing to let go of our public feud for your sake but that doesn’t mean Max gets off easy. He needs to prove himself.”
“Prove himself?” she echoed, exasperated. “George, what does that even mean?”
“It means,” George said, his expression deadly serious, “that he needs to show me he’s good enough for you. And he’d better get down on one knee while he’s at it.”
Y/n’s face turned scarlet. “Oh my God, George. Stop.”
“Nope,” George said stubbornly, his tone matter-of-fact. “This is my right as your older brother after the shit you two pulled. You don’t get to say anything about it. I’m exercising my privileges.”
She buried her face in her hands, groaning. “I can’t believe this. I’m going to die of embarrassment.”
George smirked, clearly enjoying her reaction. “Good. That’s exactly how you’re supposed to feel after pulling something like this.”
“You’re impossible,” she mumbled, but there was no real venom in her voice.
“And you’re stuck with me,” he shot back, his grin softening into something more affectionate.
Despite her embarrassment, Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, nudging him lightly. “Fine. But can we at least agree that you’ll keep this lecture to just me and Max? No ambushing us at family dinner or something?”
“No promises,” George teased, but his smile made it clear he wasn’t entirely serious.
Tumblr media
The next morning Max stood in front of the hotel, staring at the text from George for what felt like the hundredth time. “Meet me at my hotel for coffee. 10 AM. We need to talk.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure if this was going to be another thinly veiled trap or a genuine olive branch. After yesterday’s confrontation, he wasn’t holding his breath. But for Y/n’s sake, he’d go through whatever hoops George wanted him to.
He took a deep breath and walked into the lobby, spotting George sitting at a quiet corner table. Two mugs of coffee sat in front of him, steam still rising from the cups. George’s posture was straight, his face set in an unreadable expression. Max approached cautiously, offering a small nod as he slid into the chair across from him.
“Morning,” George said, his tone neutral but clipped.
“Morning,” Max replied, equally measured.
“Thanks for coming,” George said as Max slid into the seat across from him.
“I figured I didn’t have much of a choice,” Max replied lightly, though his voice held no hostility.
George gave a small smile, almost amused, but it faded quickly. “Look, I wanted to say… about yesterday. I didn’t handle things well. I was angry, and I let it get the better of me. But that doesn’t mean I regret defending my sister.”
They sat in silence for a moment, the tension between them almost tangible. George was the first to break it, leaning forward slightly as he spoke. “I thought it was time we had a proper conversation, away from the cameras, away from everyone else.”
Max nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”
George tapped his fingers against the table, his sharp blue eyes locking onto Max’s. “Look, I’m not going to pretend I’m okay with everything that’s happened. I’m not. But I need to understand… What are you doing, Max? What are your intentions with my sister?”
Max’s jaw tightened. He’d expected this question, but that didn’t make it any easier to answer. Still, he owed George the truth. “I love her,” he said firmly, meeting George’s gaze. “I have for a long time. She’s… she’s everything to me. And now, with the baby, it’s not just about love—it’s about building a life together, a family. I want to give her everything she deserves.”
George’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression still unreadable. “If that’s true, then why didn’t you come to me? Why keep it a secret for over a year? You knew how I’d feel about it, didn’t you?”
Max exhaled, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “I did. I knew you wouldn’t approve, and I didn’t want to put her in a position where she’d have to choose between us. I didn’t handle it right—hiding it wasn’t fair to you. For that, I’m sorry.”
George studied him for a long moment, his fingers still tapping against the table. Finally, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Do you intend to marry her?”
Max didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I’ve already started looking at rings.”
That admission seemed to catch George off guard, his eyebrows raising slightly. He looked away for a moment, his gaze fixed on the untouched coffee in front of him. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “I won’t lie, Max. This is going to take me some time to process. I can’t say I’m thrilled about it, but… for her—and for the baby—I’m willing to put our differences aside. We can be cordial. But don’t mistake that for approval. You’ve got a long way to go before you earn that.”
Max nodded, his expression serious. “I understand. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I’m worthy of her.”
George leaned forward again, his voice hardening. “One more thing. If you ever hurt her—if you ever make her regret this—I won’t hesitate to make you pay. I don’t care if you’re a four-time world champion or the King of the Netherlands. I’ll make sure you regret it.”
Max’s lips twitched in a faint smile. “If I ever do anything to hurt her, I’ll come to you myself and let you deal with me.”
That seemed to satisfy George, who leaned back again, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Good. Then we’re on the same page.”
There was a moment of silence before George let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. “God, I can’t believe I’m going to be an uncle.”
Max chuckled softly. “You’ll be a great uncle. The kid’s already lucky to have you.”
George shook his head, laughing lightly. “Don’t butter me up, Verstappen. It’s not going to make me go easy on you.”
Max smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
George’s expression turned serious again. “I’m giving you a chance here, Max. Don’t waste it.”
“I won’t,” Max said, his voice steady. “I promise.”
“Also,” Max began, his tone more subdued, “I want to apologize for some of the things I’ve said about you in the media.”
George’s eyes snapped up to meet his, eyebrows raised slightly in surprise.
“I shouldn’t have insulted your driving the way I did,” Max continued. “I was frustrated, angry… you know how it gets out there sometimes. But that doesn’t make it okay. You’re a talented driver, and I should’ve respected that, even if we were at odds.”
George nodded slowly, his expression softening just a fraction. “I appreciate that,” he said quietly. “And… I owe you an apology too.”
Max tilted his head, waiting.
“I shouldn’t have called you dangerous,” George admitted, his voice a little heavier with guilt. “That was crossing a line, and it wasn’t fair. I let my emotions get the better of me after… well, after what happened in the steward’s room. I shouldn’t have let it get so personal.”
Max leaned back slightly, folding his arms across his chest as he processed George’s words. After a beat, he gave a small, understanding nod. “We were both running high on adrenaline and emotions. It happens. But if you’re willing to move past it, so am I.”
George offered a faint smile, one that looked genuine despite the lingering awkwardness. “Yeah, I think it’s about time we put it behind us. For Y/n’s sake, if nothing else.”
“For Y/n,” Max echoed with a small smile of his own.
They both extended their hands almost at the same time. Their handshake was firm, a silent agreement that they were both ready to turn the page.
As they stood to leave, George clapped Max on the back, his expression softening. “For what it’s worth, Max… I hope you prove me wrong.”
“I will,” Max replied confidently. “For her.”
Tumblr media
y/n_russell posted:
Tumblr media
y/n_russell: Plot twist of the century: Baby Verstappen-Russell loading… 🍼❤️
Comments:
georgerussell63: I’m so excited to be an uncle!! 🥹❤️
y/n_russell: I just know you're going to be the best uncle ever Georgie ❤️ user: Hold up. George Russell is actually HAPPY about this?! What parallel universe are we in?! user: George in the comments acting all sweet now… Sir, we SAW you death-staring Max at the anthem. Don’t think we forgot 💀
user: SCREAMING, CRYING, THROWING UP. THE DRAMA. THE PLOT. THE ABSOLUTE CHAOS.
user: Y’all laughed at me when I said this was real. NOW WHO’S LAUGHING?!
user: I would like to personally APOLOGIZE to you. I thought you were joking about this, but clearly, you knew what you were doing. user: I need to apologize too for saying this wasn’t real. I genuinely thought you were being delusional. user: And THIS is why we don’t call people delusional, y’all!! Everyone owes her an apology immediately.
user: This baby just united two bloodlines like it’s Game of Thrones or something.
lewishamilton: Congratulations, Y/n and Max! Wishing you all the best on this exciting journey 🙌
y/n_russell: Thank you Lew 🥹
user: MAX VERSTAPPEN AND GEORGE RUSSELL AS FAMILY?!
user: The Verstappen-Russell feud will NEVER die. Even the baby can’t fix this 💀
user: I cannot BELIEVE the Verstappen-Russell baby is real. We live in the wildest timeline.
user: This baby has been conceived in a PR warzone. Their future memoir is gonna slap.
user: George, make Max get on one knee IMMEDIATELY. We are NOT doing this out of order!!
user: The way George probably has an Excel sheet for his new uncle duties… God bless this baby.
landonorris: I CALL GODFATHER. EVERYONE ELSE CAN BACK OFF.
charles_leclerc: Sorry, Lando, but I already submitted my application. Try again. oscarpiastri: Pretty sure I saved Max’s life this week. I should automatically win godfather. user: CHARLES AND LANDO FIGHTING OVER GODFATHER RIGHTS HAS ME ON THE FLOOR.
user: Y/n is so gorgeous, it’s unfair. Like, she’s PREGNANT, and she looks like THAT?!
user: I genuinely thought the Verstappen-Russell feud couldn’t get crazier, but then THIS happened.
user: Imagine being this baby and knowing your dad and uncle almost threw hands in the paddock over you. Icon.
carmenmmundt: So, so happy for you both!!! Baby Verstappen-Russell is already so loved. Can’t wait to spoil them.
y/n_russell: Carmen 😭❤️ Thank you! You and the girls have been the absolute best.
maxverstappen1: My love, you are my everything ❤️ I can’t wait to do this with you.
y/n_russell: I love you so much, Maxie 🥹❤️ georgerussell63: Okay, enough. Keep it PG. user: GEORGE SHUTTING IT DOWN IMMEDIATELY LMAO. user: George really said, “Not on my watch.”
user: The way Y/n just casually dropped this and logged off like the internet wasn’t gonna explode. Queen behavior.
user: welcome to the world baby Verstappen-Russell ❤️
Tumblr media
Taglist: @ilovechickenwings @spooky-librarian-ghost @diaryofarandomkid @rd14 @hc-dutch @96mcobo @grussellsprout @tremendousstarlighttragedy @awritingtree @shelbyteller @diorbrxtz
@henna006 @freyathehuntress @nichmeddar @formulaal @sleutherclaw
@anilovessadbooks @mangotaitai @vtryy @finn-dot-com @sarahsobsession
@widow-cevans @emilly165533 @tremendousstarlighttragedy
@formula1fordisaster @5sospenguinqueen @ellelabelle @mastermindbaby @sturmatt @quinquinquincy @raizelchrysanderoctavius @mysteriouslydecaffeinatedfox @czennieszn @inthefairygrove @l3thal-l0lita @bravo-delta-eccho
Tumblr media
386 notes · View notes
aryadelvich · 3 days ago
Text
Here’s a story from this request
Summary : Luigi has a secret crush on you. Both of you attending the same university. When you ask him for help with math, what starts as a simple study session quickly gets spicy !!
Warning : explicite content 🔞🔞
Tumblr media
I don’t know why this song feels like Luigi in college.
Others Luigi’s parts not related to this one :
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Luigi stood in the university hall, leaning casually against a wall as his friends joked around. Though he appeared to be listening, his focus shifted the moment he saw you descending the staircase.
His gaze lingered longer than it should have, tracing the determined set of your jaw and the way you clutched a paper tightly in one hand. There was something different about you today—your usual cheerful demeanor had been replaced by a tense, distracted air.
Then your eyes met his.
Caught off guard, Luigi looked away quickly, his pulse quickening.
"Oh, look. It's Y/N," one of his friends said with a teasing grin, just loud enough for you to hear.
As if on cue, the group turned to look at you. Luigi let out a quiet sigh, his jaw tightening. He had noticed you from the very first day of class but hadn't said anything to his friends. And now, they were practically gawking.
You stopped mid-step, offering the group a polite smile. "Hi, guys."
Your gaze flickered briefly to Luigi, and this time, you greeted him with a smile that held just the faintest edge of teasing.
"Hi, Luigi," you said, your tone light.
His throat tightened, and his response came out awkwardly, barely audible. "H-hi Y/n"
You stepped closer, holding out the paper in your hand. "I need help with applied mathematics. You're taking it as a minor, right? And from what I hear, you're pretty good at it."
"Oh... yeah," Luigi stammered, unprepared for your directness.
Before he could offer a proper response, one of his friends cut in, raising a hand dramatically. "I can help you too, Y/N!"
"Yeah, me too," another added, clearly trying to impress you.
Luigi shot them both an annoyed glance. "Back off," he muttered, though his tone remained light enough to pass as joking.
You raised an eyebrow, amusement flashing in your eyes. “I’m gonna choose whoever scored the highest on the last test gets to tutor me."
The group fell into a brief silence, and then the scores started coming in.
"71."
"82."
"89."
"80."
Finally, Luigi spoke, his voice calm and steady. "95."
Your lips curved into a grin. "Well, looks like we have a winner. Luigi, you're my tutor."
The subtle pride in his expression didn't escape you, though he tried to play it cool.
"How about tomorrow at the library?" he offered.
You shook your head. "I need to study tonight—my retake is the day after tomorrow. Your place or mine?"
Luigi froze, your words echoing in his mind. Around him, his friends erupted into laughter, elbowing each other and exchanging smirks.
"M-my room... if that's okay with you," he managed, his voice suddenly tight.
"Perfect," you said with an easy smile. "I'll see you after class, then."
As you turned and walked off, Luigi stared after you, his thoughts racing.
"Dude, did you hear that? She literally said, 'Your place or mine.' That's your chance !" one of his friends teased, slapping him on the shoulder.
Luigi shoots them a sharp look. "Shut up. She just needs help, that's all."
"Sure, sure," another friend says, smirking knowingly.
But Luigi doesn't respond. He's too preoccupied with the thought of spending time with you alone. Ever since you entered his life, you've had a way of unsettling the calm, logical order he's used to.
[7 PM]
Luigi paced nervously in his room, adjusting the books and papers on his desk for what felt like the hundredth time. He smoothed the creases in his shirt, glanced at the clock, and took a steadying breath.
A soft knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts. He opened it to find you standing there, arms full of notes, a faint smile on your lips.
"Ready for an intense night of applied math?" you joke.
He steps aside to let you in, trying to mask his nervousness. "I hope you're prepared to work hard because I'm a tough teacher," he quips.
You laugh as you take a seat at his desk, spreading out your notes. Luigi watches you discreetly, wondering why your presence alone is enough to make his heart race. He pulled up a chair beside you. He sits next to you and opens a notebook filled with neatly organized notes. His subtle cologne lingers in the air, and you can't help but notice how focused he looks when he starts explaining.
"Alright, show me what's giving you trouble," he says, gesturing to your notes.
You flip to a particularly challenging problem. "This one. Honestly, equations like this make me want to quit. Differential equations are a nightmare."
Luigi chuckles softly. "They seem daunting, but once you understand the logic, it's not so bad. Let's break it down step by step."
He explains with patience, his calm voice guiding you through each line. As complicated as the topic is, his methodical approach makes everything click.
"Oh! I get it now!" you exclaim, your face lighting up. "Why didn't anyone explain it like this before? It's so obvious!"
He grins, clearly proud of your progress. "See? I told you it wasn't as hard as it looked."
You work together for a while, your confidence growing with each solved problem. At one point, as you reach for his notebook, your fingers brush against his. The brief touch makes you pause, and you notice him quickly look away, his ears turning red.
"Sorry," you murmur, pulling your hand back.
"It's... it's nothing," he replies, his voice quiet.
The atmosphere grows heavier as you both become more aware of the growing tension between you.
At one point, your hands brushed as you both reached for the same pen. You pulled back quickly, but not before your gaze met his. A flicker of something passed between you—brief, but undeniable. Luigi looked away again, clearing his throat.
Luigi leaned closer to point out an error in your notes, his shoulder brushing against yours. You froze, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was.
"Here," he murmured, his raspy voice lower now, almost intimate.
You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, taking in the slight crease in his brow as he concentrated. The sharp lines of his jaw, the faint curl of his hair—it all felt too distracting.
"Got it?" he asked, his tone snapping you out of your thoughts.
"Y-yeah," you stammered, focusing back on the paper.
But even as the night continued, the unspoken tension between you lingered, growing in the quiet spaces between words. Neither of you dared to name it, but it was there—electric and impossible to ignore.
A few minutes later, after tackling another problem, Luigi leans closer to explain a particular detail. His proximity sends a wave of nervous energy through you, but you fight to keep your focus. When his elbow accidentally brushes against the side of your chest, warmth spreads through your body, pooling low in your stomach. 
"Sorry," he murmurs, his voice tinged with embarrassment. 
"It's fine..." you reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. 
But your concentration falters as your thoughts begin to wander. Your eyes trace the lines of his hands—large and strong, with long, deft fingers. Veins crisscross his forearms, disappearing into the back of his hands, and the way he grips the pen exudes a quiet confidence. His arms are muscular, his collarbone defined, hinting at the sculpted frame beneath his shirt. 
Your gaze dips lower, involuntarily lingering at his crotch for a moment too long. You can't help yourself. Luigi has always been a contradiction: introverted and composed, yet brimming with a quiet fire, a confidence you've never fully understood but can't help wanting to unravel. 
Your eyes shift back to his face, and you find yourself studying him anew. His profile is striking—an angular jawline, lips that seem almost too perfect, and a thick beard that he likely trims every day. His brows are bold, framing a gaze that is somehow both piercing and gentle. There's an elegance to his nose and a wildness to his untamed curls, as though he doesn't care enough to control them. 
You're not sure what's happening, what this magnetic pull between you means. And judging by the faint tension in his movements, neither does he. 
"Alright," Luigi says, his voice breaking through your reverie. "I'm going to give you an exercise now. It'll cover everything we've gone over so far. You'll work on it yourself while I keep an eye on your progress." 
"Okay," you reply, nodding eagerly, grasping at the distraction. 
He steps back, giving you space to focus. For a few minutes, you immerse yourself in the task, scribbling out equations and trying to channel all your thoughts into solving the problem. But then you feel him again—standing behind you, his presence throwing your concentration into disarray. Your mind strays to places it shouldn't, thoughts you can't control flaring to life. 
Luigi crouches down beside you, his arm resting on the back of your chair. The closeness feels almost deliberate, his movements steady yet unassuming, as if he's unaware of the way he's affecting you. 
"Look here," he instructs, his voice low and firm. 
He reaches for your pen, his fingers brushing against yours once again. The contact feels electric, sending a jolt through you. He corrects the mistake with a confident stroke, then places the pen back in your hand. 
Your eyes lift to meet his, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. The air between you feels charged, heavy with something unspoken yet impossible to ignore. You both break the gaze at the same time, awkward and unsure. The tension hangs there, undeniable yet unaddressed.
He leaned closer, his curly brown hair falling into his face as he pointed at a particularly confusing problem. "Okay," he said, his voice soft but confident, "tell me what the derivative of this function is."
You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip. Your eyes flickered to his face—his sharp jawline, the faint stubble, the way his lips curved into that patient smile. He caught your gaze and tilted his head, his brown eyes narrowing playfully.
"Focus," he teased, tapping the page with his pen.
"I... I don't remember," you admitted, flushing slightly under his scrutiny.
"Hmm." He clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment, but there was a sparkle in his eyes that made your stomach flutter. "Wrong answer. But don't worry, we'll get there."
He scooted closer, his thigh brushing against yours, and you felt a jolt of warmth shoot through your body. His voice dropped lower, almost conspiratorial. "Let's break it down step by step. Think of it like building something from scratch—you start with the foundation, right?"
You nodded, though your attention was less on the math and more on the way his hand gestured animatedly as he explained. God, why does he have to be so damn attractive? His rolled-up sleeves revealed the veins running along his forearms, and you couldn't help but imagine how they'd feel under your fingertips.
"So, if f(x) equals 2x squared plus 3x minus 4," he continued, writing out the equation neatly, "what's the first step?"
Your mind went blank again, but this time it wasn't just because of the math. The proximity was getting to you—his woodsy cologne, the warmth radiating off his body, the way his leg pressed against yours. You shifted slightly, trying to focus, but it was impossible.
"Uh..." you stalled, glancing up at him.
His lips quirked into a knowing smirk. "Wrong again," he murmured, leaning in even closer. His breath ghosted over your ear as he whispered with his raspy voice, "You're not paying attention, are you?"
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "Maybe I need a different kind of lesson," you blurted out before you could stop yourself.
Luigi froze for a moment, his pen hovering mid-air. Then, slowly, he set it down and turned to face you fully. His expression was unreadable, but there was a heat in his gaze that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh?" he said, his voice low and velvety. "What kind of lesson did you have in mind?"
You hesitated for only a second before reaching out and placing a hand on his chest. His heartbeat thudded beneath your palm, steady and strong. "One where you show me exactly how much you know," you said, your voice trembling slightly despite your boldness.
His lips parted in surprise, but then his eyes darkened with something primal, something hungry. He leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. "Are you sure about this?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.
"Positive," you breathed, closing the distance between you.
The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if both of you were testing the waters. But then his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and everything changed. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that left you dizzy, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming you in a way that made your toes curl.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were hooded, his pupils blown wide with desire. "If I'm going to teach you anything," he murmured, his voice rough, "you're going to have to follow my rules."
You nodded, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. "What are they?"
A wicked grin spread across his face. "Every time you get a question wrong," he said, trailing a finger down your arm, "I stop. No touching, no kissing, nothing. Until you get it right."
"And if I get it right?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
His grin widened. "Then I'll reward you appropriately."
Before you could respond, he grabbed the textbook again and flipped to a new page. "Alright," he said, his tone suddenly serious, though his eyes still burned with mischief. "What's the integral of sine x?"
Your brain scrambled to recall the formula, but all you could think about was the way his thumb was tracing circles on your thigh. "I don't care."
He shook his head, clicking his tongue again. "Nope. Wrong." And just like that, he leaned back, his hands dropping away from you.
You groaned in frustration, but there was a thrill in the challenge, a fire igniting deep within you. "Fine. Try me again."
This time, when he asked another question, you forced yourself to focus, determined not to let him win so easily. And when you finally got the answer right, the look of pure satisfaction on his face was worth every second of torment.
"Good girl," he purred, pulling you back into his arms. His lips crashed against yours, his hands roaming your body with possessive intent. His touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you as he explored every inch of your skin.
But just as things were heating up, he pulled away again, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Next question," he said, his voice thick with arousal. "What's the limit as x approaches infinity of 1 over x?"
You bit your lip, your mind racing. "Zero?"
He smiled, slow and dangerous. "Correct."
And then his lips were on you again, his hands everywhere at once, until the only thing you could think about was him—his taste, his touch, the sound of his ragged breathing as he whispered your name.
But just as you reached for the hem of his shirt, he stopped you, his grip firm. "Wait," he said, his voice hoarse. "What's the area under the curve of y equals x squared from 0 to 2?"
You blinked, your brain struggling to catch up. "Uh... 8/3?"
He grinned, his hands sliding up your thighs. "Exactly right."
And then he kissed you again, harder this time, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you onto his lap. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other, desperate and wanting.
But before things could escalate further, he broke the kiss, his chest heaving as he stared into your eyes. "Last question," he said, his voice shaking with restraint. "What's the probability of us finishing this without any interruptions?"
You laughed breathlessly, your hands tangling in his hair. "Slim to none."
"That's what I thought," he growled, pressing his forehead against yours. "But I'm willing to take the risk if you are."
His hands slid up your thighs, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through your body. The air in the room was thick with tension, every breath you took filling your lungs with the scent of him—clean sweat, cologne, and something uniquely Luigi. His brown eyes locked onto yours, dark with desire, but still glinting with that playful intelligence that always seemed to disarm you. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "What's the derivative of e^(2x)?"
You froze for a moment, your mind struggling to focus on anything other than the way his fingers were now tracing circles on your inner thigh. Think, think. You bit your lip, trying to recall the formula. "Uh... 2e^(2x)?"
A slow, approving smile spread across his face. "Perfect," he murmured, his voice low and smooth like honey. His hand moved higher, his fingertips grazing the edge of your panties. You gasped, arching into his touch, but he paused, his smile turning teasing. "Next question. What's the integral of sin(x)? If you get it wrong, I stop."
"Luigi," you whined, squirming under his hold. His thumb pressed against the sensitive spot just above your knee, making it nearly impossible to concentrate. "That's not fair."
"All's fair in love and math," he teased, leaning back slightly to give you space to think. His confidence was infuriatingly attractive, and you couldn't help but laugh despite the ache pooling between your legs.
"The integral is -cos(x)," you said quickly, hoping to end the torture.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Brava," he said as he pulled you closer. His hands slid up your sides, lifting your shirt over your head before you could even process what was happening. The cool air of the room hit your skin, but his body heat chased away any chill. His lips found yours again, hungry and demanding, while his hands explored every curve of your torso.
Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him. He chuckled against your mouth, letting you undo them one by one until his chest was finally bare. Your hands roamed over his abs, tracing the ridges and feeling the tightness of his muscles. He groaned softly, his hips pressing up into yours, and you could feel how hard he already was through his pants.
But before you could take things further, he pulled back again, his breathing ragged. "One more question," he said, his voice rough. "What's the limit as x approaches infinity of (3x^2 + 2)/(4x^2 - 1)?"
You groaned, dropping your forehead to his shoulder. "Are you serious right now?"
"Dead serious," he said, his fingers trailing down your spine, making you shiver. "Answer correctly, and I'll make sure you forget your own name."
You could barely think straight, but you forced yourself to focus. The answer came to you in a haze. "Three over four?"
His smile was wicked as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your neck. "Very good baby," he breathed, his hot breath sending goosebumps across your skin. "Now, let me show you how well I can reward good students."
In one swift motion, he stood, lifting you with him as if you weighed nothing. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and he carried you to his bed, laying you down gently before climbing over you. His kisses trailed down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his lips closed around your nipple, you gasped, your back arching off the bed.
His hands worked quickly, pulling off the rest of your clothes until you were completely bare beneath him. His eyes drank in the sight of you, and the hunger in his gaze made your stomach twist with anticipation. "So beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
Before you could respond, his lips descended lower, kissing a path down your stomach until he reached your core. You tensed, your hands gripping the sheets as his tongue touched you for the first time. The sensation was electric, sending sparks through your entire body. He licked slowly, deliberately, driving you insane with the unhurried pace. Just when you thought you couldn't take anymore, he pressed two fingers inside you, curling them in a way that made you cry out.
"Luigi!" you moaned, your hips lifting off the bed as he worked you with his mouth and fingers. Every stroke, every lick felt like it was unraveling you piece by piece. You were close—so close—but then he stopped, looking up at you with that devilish smirk.
"What's the value of pi to five decimal places?" he asked, his voice steady despite the slickness on his chin.
"Are you fucking kidding me—" you started, but he cut you off with a pinch to your thigh.
"Answer correctly, and I'll finish what I started," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You clenched your fists, frustration and desperation warring within you. "3.14159," you spat out, glaring at him.
His grin widened, and he didn't waste another second. His tongue dove back in, and this time, he didn't stop until you were trembling beneath him, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. You cried out his name, your voice breaking as pleasure consumed you.
When you finally came down, he kissed his way back up your body, his lips claiming yours in a searing kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it only heightened the ache between your legs. His cock pressed against you, hot and heavy, and you reached between you to free him from his pants.
As soon as your hand wrapped around him, he sucked in a sharp breath, his hips jerking forward. "Y/n" he muttered, his voice strained. "You're going to kill me."
You stroked him slowly, savoring the way his eyelids fluttered and his breath hitched. But before you could tease him further, he grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head. "My turn," he growled, settling between your legs. The tip of his cock pressed against you, and you both groaned as he pushed inside, inch by inch.
It was almost too much—his size stretching you in the best way possible—but he gave you time to adjust, peppering your neck with soft kisses. When he finally bottomed out, he stilled, his forehead resting against yours. "Tell me this is okay," he whispered, his voice uncharacteristically vulnerable.
"More than okay," you replied, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Please, Luigi. Don't stop."
He didn't need to be told twice. His hips began to move, each thrust hitting that perfect spot deep inside you. His rhythm was relentless, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. You clung to him, nails digging into his back as you urged him on. His name spilled from your lips like a prayer, and each time he swallowed your cries with a kiss.
The coil in your stomach tightened again, your second orgasm building faster than you expected. "I'm close," you gasped, your legs shaking around him.
"Me too," he panted, his movements becoming erratic. "Where do you want me to—"
"Inside," you interrupted, the word coming out as a desperate plea. "Please."
He groaned, burying his face in your neck as his thrusts became harder, deeper. With one final push, you shattered, your climax tearing through you like a storm. He followed moments later, spilling himself inside you with a guttural moan. For a long moment, neither of you moved, too lost in the aftermath to care about anything else.
Finally, he rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so you were curled against his chest. His heartbeat was rapid under your ear, and his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. "Thank you," he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
You looked up at him, grinning despite your exhaustion. "For what? Being a genius at math?"
He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "For trusting me." His expression turned thoughtful, and he tilted your chin up so you were looking directly into his eyes.
You stride confidently through the university hall, a triumphant smile lighting up your face. Spotting Luigi, you rush toward him and throw yourself into his arms without hesitation. 
"So, what did you got ?" he asks, barely able to contain his excitement. 
"Ninety-seven! Luigi, you're incredible!" you exclaim, wrapping your arms tightly around him. The curious stares from other students don't faze you in the slightest. 
"I'm proud of you, Y/N!" he says, his tone full of warmth and pride. 
"Well, I had the best tutor anyone could ask for," you reply with a teasing grin. 
Not far away, Luigi's group of friends watches the scene, their confusion evident as they exchange glances, silently trying to piece together what they're seeing. 
"How about we celebrate properly? Dinner's on me," Luigi suggests, his smile growing wider. 
"Absolutely!" 
Without thinking, you lean in and kiss his cheek, the gesture natural and full of gratitude. Luigi chuckles softly, his ears turning just a bit pink, but he doesn't pull away. The buzz of the hall seems to fade, leaving only the two of you in your little bubble of joy.
GIRLS IF YOU HAVE ANY REQUESTS ASK ME I WILL DO IT WITH PLEASURE !!!! FEEL FREE TO ASK !!!
319 notes · View notes
insidekatmind · 16 hours ago
Text
Shopping-Jude Bellingham
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Wearning: +18,smut
It was a mild Saturday afternoon, perfect for a stroll downtown. Jude had offered to accompany you shopping, even though you were sure he was doing it more to spend time with you than out of any real interest in the stores. Not that you minded; his presence made everything more enjoyable.
You walked into a bright boutique, mirrors reflecting rows of elegant dresses. You glanced around, fascinated by the variety of colors and fabrics, while Jude leaned against the wall near the door, arms crossed and a slight smile on his face.
“So, where do we start?” he asked, his voice calm but tinged with amusement.
You looked at him, unsure. “I don’t know… Maybe something elegant but not too formal. Like a dress that works for a night out or a casual lunch.”
Jude nodded, stepping forward. “Alright, let’s see what we can find.”You picked up a navy-blue dress with a delicate neckline and held it up for him to see. “What do you think about this one?”
“It’s nice,” he said, tilting his head to get a better look. “But maybe a bit too simple for you. You need something that stands out more.”
You smiled, appreciating his comment. The two of you continued browsing the store, and every time you picked up a dress, he had something to say:
“Too short.”
“Too long.”
“This one looks like it’s from an old movie—not in a good way.”
Eventually, you found two options you really liked: a fitted scarlet red dress and a flowing emerald green one. Turning to him, you held both dresses up. “Now what?”
Jude burst out laughing. “Ah, here we are. The moment of great indecision. I knew this was coming.”
You looked at him, pretending to be offended. “That’s not true! I’m just trying to choose the right one.”
He rolled his eyes, still smiling. “You always take forever to pick. I’ll never understand why it’s so difficult for you.”
You stuck your tongue out at him playful. “Well, excuse me for wanting to make sure I look good.”He chuckled. “There’s no need to worry about that. Believe me, you’ll look stunning in anything you choose.”
The compliment surprised you and warmed your cheeks slightly. He glanced at you as you walked over, his eyes wandering over your frame, lingering on your curves a moment longer than necessary. His arms were still crossed, his casual pose not doing anything to quell the desire that flared through you.You sit on his lap and kiss his jaw softly. “I haven't thanked you yet for joining me shopping,” you say seductively.
He hummed, his eyes fluttering shut as your lips graze his skin. He placed his hands on your hips, holding you still above him. “It was my pleasure,” he mumbled, his grip tightening.
You smile at his words and kiss his lips. He responded quickly and his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as his mouth moved against yours. He tugged on your lower lip with his teeth, coaxing a soft gasp out of you.
His strong hands were slowly roaming around your backside, tracing over the curve of your waist and down to your thighs. He pulled back, his breathing already a bit faster. “You know, it’s quite tempting to have you here, all to myself in this small room.”
You smile mischievously at his words and trace your fingers over his muscular shoulders. "From what I remember we've never done that in a dressing room."
A smirk spread across his face as he chuckled slightly. “No, we haven’t. But, I’m sure it’s something we should fix, don’t you think?” His hands pulled your hips even closer, making your legs straddle his. You bite your lip and nod.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble against the skin of your neck. His lips gently grazed over your collarbone, moving in a hot trail along your flesh. He slipped his hands under the material of your dress, teasing the skin of your thighs.
You moan softly in response so as not to attract attention. “We should hurry” you whisper hearing the voices of the girls who are waiting for the dressing room to be free.
His smirk grows wider at your words “Right, wouldn’t want anyone to walk in and find us like this,” he said with a quiet chuckle, his hands massaging into your hips. “But it’s just so hard to stop when you look this beautiful.”
“I didn't say you had to stop,” you whisper seductively, getting up off of him, undressing.
He watched you, a look of desire and want in his dark eyes as you began undressing. His hands grip the chair, tight, as if it’s the only thing keeping him from pouncing you. “You can be naughty when you want to be, love,” he murmured, his voice rough with held-back cravings.
You smile in amusement and give him a striptease while taking off your bra and thong.
He sat back and watched you, his eyes drinking up every movement of your body. His fingers were white from gripping the chair so hard, his breathing growing heavier. “God, you’re incredible,” he breathed, his gaze roaming slowly over your bare skin.
You smile mischievously and sensually approach him and begin to undress him. He leaned back, watching you with a darkened gaze as you began unbuttoning his shirt. His hands remained restrained, fingers digging into the fabric of the chair as your touch roamed over his skin. “You're teasing me, love,” he whispered, his voice growing deeper.
Your fingertips gently caressed his chest, tracing the firm planes of muscle. He let out a soft sigh as you continued to explore, taking your time as you made your way down his body. He was clearly enjoying the effect you had on him, the desire in his eyes growing with each passing second.
You kiss him sensually as you position your pussy on his cock and let it enter you. He responds hungrily, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer as you sink down onto him. His hands run up your back, holding you tight against his chest. “You’re killing me,” he mutters against your lips, his mouth then trailing hot kisses along your jawline and down your neck.
You try to moan softly as you begin to ride him. He groans against your skin, his grip on you tightening. He looks up, his eyes dark with desire and lust as he watches you riding him. “You feel incredible,” he whispers in your ear, his breath warm against your sensitive skin. His hips begin to move with you, matching your rhythm.
“so good love” you murmur as you feel Jude push into you harder. You bite his neck to keep from moaning.
He lets out a low moan at your words, and the bite on his neck sends shivers down his spine. His hands grip your hips, guiding you as he pushes up into you harder. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me”.
You try not to moan loudly as you feel his thrusts increase. “Jude” you moan holding yourself tight.
He responds instantly to the sound of his name, a primal noise rising from his chest. He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours in a fierce look of desire and wanting. “Yeah, love?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper as he continues to move with you.
"I'm close" you murmur moaning. He nods at your words, his breathing heavy and irregular. “So am I,” he pants, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. “Together?” he asks, his lips finding your neck again. The heat between you is nearly scorching, the air thick with tension.
You nod, closing your eyes in pleasure. He groans as he feels you tighten around him, the sensation pushing him over crazy. “you’re squeezing my cock” Jude moans and pushes into you more.
He holds you close, his arms wrapping around you as he holds you tight against his chest. His breathing is heavy, his heart racing from the release. “God, you’re amazing,” he whispers, his face buried in your hair.
You moan and come on him and Jude comes inside you. He tightens his grip on you as he finds his release, a soft moan escaping his lips. He remains still, his head leaning against yours as he regains his breath. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmurs, his fingers tracing small patterns on your back.
“But we should probably clean up and get dressed before someone figures out what we did in here,” he chuckles softly, slowly shifting back.
You chuckle and nod. "yes you are right"
He grins, gently helping you off his lap and zipping up his pants. He runs a hand over his hair, trying to tame the messy spikes it had taken on. “They are definitely going to wonder what took us so long,” he says with a smirk, glancing at the clock on the wall.You smile.
He hands you your clothes, still watching you with a heated look in his eyes. “Just a shame we had to stop,” he remarks, his gaze wandering over your body as you began to get dressed
“You’re making it very difficult to behave.” he says, watching you slip the dress back over your head. “I swear, the second we get home I’m picking up where we left off.”
You smile and give him a quick but sweet kiss on the lips. "let's go come on".Jude returns the kiss with a smile of his own, his hand finding your waist. "Lead the way, love. The quicker we can get out of here, the better," he says, still watching you with dark, wanting eyes
You giggle and grab his hand, dragging him outside. Jude lets you lead him out of the store, a smile still on his face. He couldn't help but watch you, admiring the way your hair fell and how the dress clung to your figure.As you walk, he keeps a firm grip on your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours. You could feel the heat between you still there, even outside the store.
God, you loved that man.
181 notes · View notes
batfsm · 2 days ago
Text
I wrote a fanfic for this but I now need a title…and a summary.
Warnings: I don’t say outright in the story, in my opinion, but i imply a lot of child abuse and sexual assault to children. So be careful please.
I do speak of death and drugs but only in passing.
The story is under the cut. It got away from me. I just wanted to write about Jason and Tim running from Bruce and next thing I know Dick and Alfred are in it, Leslie is mentioned as is Jim, Roy, Lian, Oliver, Damian, and Talia. (Cass and Duke are implied.)
I hope you enjoy @ky-landfill. I’m putting it up tomorrow on my AO3 so I’ll edit in the link then. (Hopefully a name and summary also. Especially a title.)
Edit: Figured both out.
Meetings
Summary: A sound had Jason dropping the tire.
A sound had Jason dropping the tire he just took off and reaching for Tim who came willingly.
Tim climbed onto Jason’s back as the older boy started to run, a move they had practiced for hours until they got it smoothly, and Jason gripped his tire iron harder as he moved faster.
A body suddenly dropping in front of him had Jason sliding to a stop and crunching a bit.
Tim peeked over Jason’s shoulder and felt his eyes widen. Other than that the only other reaction was his tightening grip on his elder brother’s shoulders.
Jason glared as he shifted a bit more to hide Tim and lifted his tire iron. “Leave us alone!”
Batman glared. “Why did you take my tires?”
“None of ya business. We aren’t anymore, so let us go.”
“You’re coming with me.” Batman I growled.
“Fuck off, you big boob!” Jason shouted before rushing Batman.
The man was so surprised that he couldn’t stop the hit to his abdomen. As Batman doubled over, Jason ran past as fast as he could.
[They wouldn’t be found for a week and it wasn’t by Batman. Robin, who came back to visit Agent A and was reluctantly patrolling with Batman, though he was internally glad to be home, ran into Tim by accident.
Tim, when faced with one of his heroes, just stared as he had at Batman before grinning and asking Robin if he wanted to come meet his big brother.
Robin, who was told about the story by a mulish Batman, grinned brightly and agreed.
The young boy led the way to their hideout only to find Jason struggling against a man. Robin didn’t even blink as he took the man down and then fussed over the two boys.
Tim clung to Jason who clung back as Robin looked around and then called Agent A who came to pick the boys up and take them to dinner and then Doctor Thompson’s clinic to be looked over.
As Leslie looked the two civilians over, Agent A snuck out and back to the hideout where the downed man was just coming around.
(Commissioner Gordon ended up with a man beaten up and files full of evidence against the man and others hurting children. Jim Gordon took pleasure in slapping charge after charge on the man and the others, including more police officers who he had thought were not corrupt.)
When Agent A joined the trio, Batman was with him. (Bruce had gotten his own hits in when he saw files on Dick and Roy. Oliver had been alerted and was hunting down the men and women in Star City that were a bit to interested in children, especially his son.) Batman, who had found the files and most of the evidence, dropped to his knees and hugged the three boys. He silently vowed to do better in his relationship with Dick and to keep a close eye on the two younger boys and where they would be placed.
Batman redid the vow months later to include all his children when he finally admitted to Alfred and himself that Jason and Tim were best left with the family.
Jason and Tim, like Dick, was the best thing that happened to him.
All his children, present and future were.]
[Roy and Oliver’s arguments in the future would never get as bad as they should have been because Oliver followed Bruce’s example and opened up to his son. Roy would be able to fall back on his dad when he started to get addicted and would have the support he desperately needed from the start. Lian would grow and never die since she was with her dad and grandpa all the time and not just Roy.
The whole family would be happier.]
[Jason, by way, never became estranged from the family. He does die but Talia puts him straight into the Pit and then takes him home with Damian.]
Tumblr media
Fuck off, you big boob!
869 notes · View notes
rispwr · 1 day ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tasty - J.JK - Mini (M) —
Pairings : idol! Jk x nepo baby! Reader
Genre : smut, idolverse
Contents/warnings : making out, unprotected sex(yk what to do), nepo baby! Reader, idol! Jk, tasty in busan reference, model! Reader, missionary, fingering if u squint?, oral(fem recieving), pwp
Note : this was kinda rushed. Please don’t expect too much from this. It’s 1:12 am rn huhu i should sleep i have exams💔💔also ive been watching gossip girls all over again. If you find my new characters in my new fics similar to the characters in gg then i probably got inspired. Hdidhudgs i need to sleeppp. scratch that, study actually. Goodluck to me tomorrow, or later…? I’ll be waking up at 4 anyway
Wc : 2k?
Tumblr media
As someone new to the modelling industry, I’ll admit, I don’t know much about it. Except for the fact that my mom and dad are both in it, and yeah, maybe their names help. Okay, definitely their names help. They’ve gotten me the brands, the deals, the connections I need. But their advice? Practically useless. I get called ‘nepo baby’ often like it’s some big insult, but honestly? I don’t care.
If I was them, I’d wanna be me too.
this time, I want real advice. Not from my parents, or the people who are just dying to kiss up to me, but from people who actually know what they’re talking about. The real seniors.
The problem?
They’re not exactly the kind of people you can just text for advice. Or… are they?
I’m sitting in the director’s chair during one of my “breaks” (which are so not long enough), watching as he barks orders at the photographers and crew. My phone’s in my hand, and I’m scrolling aimlessly until something catches my eye. It’s a video. An old one. And not just anyone’s video. the exact senior I’ve been thinking about.
Hey, maybe advice isn’t the only thing i’d ask for.
I click on it, my lips curling into a smirk.
“What’s tasty in Busan?” someone asks. I think it’s hoseok? one of the guys in their group. He’s holding a microphone, and Jungkook leans over to whisper something in his ear. Hoseok immediately pulls back, laughing like he’s grossed out. “Jungkookie is weird!” he says dramatically.
Then Jimin jumps in, curious. “What did he say? Tell me too!” He laughs, shaking his head, before leaning into the microphone with this smug little grin. “Everyone… Jungkookie has turned into an adult.”
The camera pans to Jungkook, who’s at his desk, grinning that ridiculous bunny smile of his, looking both shy and pleased with himself.
I can’t help but laugh under my breath. What did he even say? It’s like some inside joke in their fanbase, and honestly, some of the comments on the video are gold. Others?…. Nevermind.
“Okay, Y/N! I think I’ve given you enough of a break,” the director calls out, clapping his hands. “Back to your position, please!”
I roll my eyes, shoving my phone back into my bag as I get up. My four inch heels click sharply against the floor as I walk to the set. It’s exhausting, sure, but if the pictures turn out hot? Worth it.
Still, even after the shoot, that video sticks in my mind.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
——
You and your friends, Kayla and Zia, sit at the table, laughing and drinking like it’s the only thing you know how to do. A few hours pass, and predictably, the two of them are completely wasted, while you’re still sitting pretty, your alcohol tolerance saving the night.
“Hey, Y/N and Kay?” Zia slurs out, leaning in way too close and grabbing both your faces in her hands. “Don’t tell Zia I told you guys…” she giggles, already spilling the tea, “but we slept with each other.”
“What??” Kayla suddenly sobers up from the sheer shock, her eyes wide as saucers.
You’re just staring at both of them, blinking in disbelief. “I need more drinks. I don’t have enough brain cells left to process this,” you mutter, grabbing your purse and standing up to head to the bar.
You wobble slightly on your heels? terrible decision for a night like this, but you make it to the counter and sit down on one of the stools, finally giving yourself a moment to breathe.
“Hey, Kook. Truth or dare?” Jimin slurs, clearly a few drinks ahead of Jungkook, who sits there calmly sipping his beer.
“Truth,” Jungkook answers flatly, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Ugh, no fun, man.” Jimin groans dramatically, leaning forward.
“Fine. Dare,” Jungkook sighs, tilting his head in annoyance but accepting the challenge anyway.
Jimin smirks, his eyes darting across the bar. Then he spots you, sitting on the stool, ordering drinks, completely unbothered. “I dare you to go up to that girl and buy her a drink.”
Jungkook scoffs, raising an eyebrow. He glances at the table, half the members are already passed out drunk, while Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi look on. With a little smirk, Jungkook sets his drink down and gets up, the air of a challenge written all over him.
“Hey,” a deep voice greets you from beside the bar, nearly making you jump.
You glance up, surprised, and then let your lips curl into a small, amused smirk. “Didn’t think I’d find you here.”
Jungkook stares at you, confused. “I’m sorry?” he asks, tilting his head.
“Where’s your cool guy act now?” you tease, your voice dripping with playful mockery.
Jungkook bites his lip, staring at you for a second before shaking his head with a low laugh. “Let me buy you a drink,” he offers, signaling to the bartender.
“No need,” you say smoothly, already taking the drink you’d just ordered. You lift it slightly to emphasize your point.
“Well then… your number?” he tries again, his smile soft and genuine…. or at least i hope it’s genuine.
You raise an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to keep the game going. “I’m sure we’ll be in touch soon.” you say with a wink before turning on your heel and heading back to your table, leaving him behind.
For the next three weeks, Jungkook came to the same bar, at least twice a week, hoping to bump into you again. He played it cool, but let’s be real, it was obvious.… well this day must be his lucky day then.
A week ago
“Calvin Klein, you say?” you hum, admiring yourself in the mirror as you try on the lingerie you’d just picked up. The fit? Perfect. You smirk at your reflection, loving the way it hugs your curves.
“Yes, ma’am,” the stylist calls from outside the fitting room.
“I’m in,” you say with a final glance at yourself, satisfied.
Back to the present.
You sit in the chair on set, scrolling aimlessly on your phone when one of the stylists walks up to you. “Are you aware you’re shooting with a partner today?” she asks casually.
“Uh… no?” You raise an eyebrow, confused.
“Jeon Jungkook, Ms. He’s your partner for this shoot. Did your agent not tell you?”
You blink. “I think…?” You give her a weak smile, but she just rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath as she walks away, loud enough for you to catch.
“Doesn’t even have to try to get the brands, and she doesn’t even know who she’s working with,” the stylist grumbles.
You roll your eyes.
Irrelevant words from an irrelevant person.
Satisfied, you adjust your posture as someone calls you to get into position.
“Well, looks like it’s your lucky day, Jeon,” you whisper into Jungkook’s ear as the two of you move into position for the first shot.
———
“Think you wanna tell me the answer to the ‘what’s tasty in Busan’ question?” I teased, cocking an eyebrow at Jungkook as he kept kissing along my neck, his lips warm and soft but slightly distracted.
He froze for a moment, then leaned back just enough to look at me with a crooked grin. “Omygod, you saw that?” he asked, his voice dripping with amusement.
I shrugged, biting my lip to hide my smirk. “You said it so confidently in that video, like you had it all figured out. So? What’s tasty in there, Jeon Jungkook?”
He burst out laughing, his head falling into the crook of my neck as his shoulders shook. “Oh my god, did you actually see that? That was so embarrassing,” he mumbled between his laughs, his ears turning red as he tried to compose himself.
I grinned wider, running my fingers through his dark hair. “Of course, I saw it. It’s the joke of your fans. So wanna tell me?, or better…. Show me?”
Jungkook raised his head, his laughter fading into a playful glare. “Alright,” he said, his voice lower now, a teasing edge to it. “You think you’re funny, huh?”
“I think I’m hilarious,” I shot back, sticking my tongue out at him.
He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as his hands slid down to my waist. “You wanna know what’s my answer?” he asked, his tone shifting as his grip tightened slightly, pulling me closer.
I blinked up at him, suddenly aware of the heat in his eyes, the way his lips curved into a sly smirk. “Uh… yeah?”
Jungkook leaned in, his nose brushing against mine as he whispered, “I’ll show you instead.”
Before I could process his words, his lips were on mine, soft but firm, moving with a confidence that made my head spin. His hands slid down to grip the backs of my thighs, and with one smooth motion, he lifted me off the floor like I weighed nothing.
“Jungkook!” I squealed, wrapping my arms around his neck as my legs instinctively locked around his waist. “What are you-”
He cut me off with another kiss, deeper this time, his tongue brushing against mine in a way that made me forget whatever I was about to say. “Still wanna know the answer?” he murmured against my lips, his voice dripping with mischief.
“You’re all questions, are you gonna show or tell me?” I muttered, though the breathlessness in my voice ruined the effect.
He just grinned, carrying me to the bed and laying me down gently, his body hovering over mine. “Oh i will,” he said, his hands already sliding up my thighs, pushing up the hem of my skirt. “But do you think you deserve it?
I rolled my eyes, trying to keep up my usual sass even as heat pooled in my stomach. “Im pretty sure i do”
Jungkook’s smirk deepened, and he leaned down to press a kiss just below my jaw, his hands sliding higher up my thighs. “That’s right baby, you do.”
The teasing tone in his voice made my heart race, and when his lips found mine again, any thought of arguing vanished completely.
Jungkook’s lips moved from mine to trail down my neck, his kisses lazy but purposeful, his teeth grazing my skin just enough to make me shiver. His hands were everywhere. firm on my thighs, sliding higher as he pushed my legs apart.
“You’re already quiet,” he teased against my skin, his voice warm and teasing, sending a jolt of heat straight through me. “What happened to all that attitude?”
“I still have it,” I shot back, though my voice was already breathless.
He chuckled, his lips moving lower, pressing kisses down my collarbone and along the curve of my chest. “We’ll see how long that lasts,” he said, tugging at the hem of my shirt.
“Don’t act so cocky,” I said, but the challenge fell flat as he yanked my shirt up and off in one quick motion, leaving me exposed in my lace bra. His eyes flicked down, darkening as his tongue swept across his bottom lip.
“You were saying?” he murmured, his hands sliding under me to unclasp my bra before I could even protest. The garment joined my shirt on the floor, and I swallowed hard as his gaze drank me in.
“You’re staring,” I muttered, trying to sound unaffected, but my body betrayed me as my skin burned under his gaze.
“Of course I’m staring,” he said, his voice low and warm. “You’re fucking gorgeous.”
My retort died on my lips as he leaned down, his mouth closing over one of my nipples, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud while his hand teased the other. A soft moan escaped me before I could stop it, and I felt his smirk against my skin.
“Still got something to say?” he asked, his voice muffled as he moved to give the same attention to the other side.
I glared down at him, tugging lightly at his hair. “Shut up.”
He laughed softly, lifting his head to look at me. “Make me,” he teased, his hands sliding down to my hips as he tugged at the waistband of my skirt.
I arched an eyebrow, determined not to let him have the upper hand. “What if I don’t want to?”
Jungkook tilted his head, his smirk widening “Then I guess i better take the lead, baby,” he said, his voice dripping with challenge.
He grips my thighs before he yanks my skirt down with one swift motion, his eyes dropping to the soaked lace between my legs.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice low, “you’re already dripping, Y/N.”
Before I could snap back, he hooked his fingers into the sides of my panties and dragged them down, tossing them aside like they didn’t matter. His hands spread my thighs wide, and before i knew it, his mouth was on me
The first swipe of his tongue sent my back arching off the bed, a gasp tearing from my lips. He didn’t tease, instead he went straight for my clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking his tongue against it with maddening precision.
“Jungkook,” I moaned, my hands flying to his hair, tugging at the soft strands as his mouth worked me over.
He groaned against me, the vibration making my legs shake. His tongue slid lower, teasing my entrance before he pushed it inside, fucking me with it while his nose pressed against my clit.
“Oh my god,” I gasped, my hips bucking against his face, but he just tightened his grip on my thighs, holding me down as he ate me like a man starving.
Every flick, every suck, every moan he let out against me drove me closer to the edge. “You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his lips glistening as he pulled back for a second before diving right back in.
My thighs started to tremble, the tension in my stomach coiling tighter and tighter. “I’m gonna- fuck, Jungkook, don’t stop!” I whimpered, my voice breaking as he sucked my clit hard and slid two fingers into me, curling them perfectly to hit that spot that made me see stars.
“Come for me,” he growled against me, his fingers pounding into me as his mouth stayed relentless on my clit. That was all it took. I shattered, my body shaking as my orgasm crashed over me, his name spilling from my lips in a breathless scream.
He didn’t stop until I was a trembling mess beneath him, my body twitching with aftershocks. When he finally pulled back, his lips and chin were slick, and the look in his eyes was pure sin.
“You good?” he asked, smirking as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
I glared at him, still breathless. “Shut up and fuck me.”
“Thought you’d never ask,” he said, already tugging his pants down.
He then kicks off his jeans and boxers in one quick motion, his cock springing free and standing thick and hard. The sight alone made my mouth water, but he wasn’t giving me time to admire it. He was already climbing back over me, one hand gripping my thigh to hook it around his waist as the other lined himself up at my entrance.
“Ready?” he muttered, his voice low and strained, like he was barely holding himself together.
I rolled my eyes, grabbing his jaw and pulling him down for a messy, heated kiss. “Do I look like I want to wait?” I bit back.
That was all the permission he needed. With one smooth thrust, he buried himself inside me to the hilt, stretching me so perfectly that all I could do was gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead dropping to mine as he stayed there for a moment, letting me adjust. “You’re so tight.”
“Then move,” I breathed out, arching my hips against him, already desperate for more.
Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk, but he didn’t tease this time. His hips pulled back, and then he drove forward again, setting a deep, steady rhythm that had me clawing at his back, moaning with every snap of his hips.
“God, you feel so fucking good,” he growled, his voice rough as his hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place as he fucked into me harder, deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.
My body was on fire, every thrust sending a wave of pleasure crashing through me. “Jungkook,” I whimpered, barely able to get the word out as he hit that perfect spot inside me over and over again.
“Say it again,” he demanded, his pace quickening, his teeth scraping against my neck as he kissed and nipped at my skin. “Let me hear you.”
“Jungkook!” I moaned, louder this time, my voice breaking as I felt myself spiraling closer and closer to the edge.
“Good girl,” he muttered, his hand sliding down between us to rub at my clit, the added stimulation sending me into a frenzy. “You gonna come for me again?”
“Yes- omygod!! fuck, yes,” I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders as my entire body tensed, the pressure building until it exploded, my orgasm crashing over me so hard I saw stars.
Jungkook groaned as I clenched around him, his hips faltering for a second before he buried himself deep, his pace turning rough and erratic. “Fuck, baby, I’m close,” he growled, his voice strained as he chased his own release.
“Come inside me,” I whispered, wrapping my legs tighter around him, pulling him deeper. “I want to feel you.”
That was all it took. With a low, guttural moan, Jungkook’s hips slammed against mine one last time, his body tensing as he spilled into me, filling me with heat. He stayed there for a moment, his forehead resting against mine as we both tried to catch our breath.
“Guess that answers the question,” he finally muttered, a lazy grin spreading across his face.
I frowned up at him. “What question?”
“What you asked me,” he said, smirking as he kissed me again, his lips slow and soft now, as if he didn’t just wrecked me.
“Idiot,” I muttered against his mouth, but I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me.
The next day.
Tumblr media
the comments from my new post….. was surely what i expected.
“Is she a whore?”
“That nepo baby once again”
“New boy of the month?”
“Im leaving this fandom”
Surely i did make alot of fans mad, but what can i say? It was indeed tasty
222 notes · View notes
itsnesss · 23 hours ago
Note
hii maybe a yandere!junho ?? I cant stop thinking about him 😩 i love your writing btw💕
𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader
Tumblr media
summary | you wake up restrained in a small room, facing jun-ho, who reveals his obsessive love for you. his yandere tendencies surface as he believes he's protecting you from the world. you must navigate his dangerous devotion and find a way to escape
warnings | junho!yandere, kidnapping/restraint, psychological manipulation
word count | 2.1 k
author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You wake up with a start, the cold floor chilling your bones. It’s hard to remember how you got here. The faint flicker of a hanging light bulb illuminates the room. It’s a small, almost claustrophobic space, with gray concrete walls. In front of you, sitting on an old metal chair, is him: Jun-ho. His dark eyes watch you with an intensity that makes you shiver.
"Finally awake," he says in a serene voice, but it’s loaded with something else, something unsettling. "Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment?"
You try to speak, but your throat is dry. Your voice barely comes out as a whisper.
"What… what’s going on?"
He smiles, and the gesture should comfort you, but there’s something strange in his eyes, something you’ve never seen before.
"I saved you," he replies, leaning forward. "They were going to hurt you. I couldn’t let that happen."
"They? What are you talking about?" you ask, your heart pounding rapidly.
You try to move, but your wrists are tied with a thick scarf. You look at Jun-ho in disbelief.
"This… this isn’t real."
He slowly gets to his feet, brushing his hands off like he’s just finished an important task.
"Don’t worry. You’re safe with me. No one will ever hurt you again. No one will ever look at you that way again."
His voice, though soft, has a sharp edge. Memories begin to return in fragmented flashes. The last time you saw him was at the café near your workplace. He was always there, sitting at the same table with his black coffee, watching you. There was something about him that unsettled you but also intrigued you, like a mystery impossible to ignore.
"Jun-ho… why am I here?" you manage to ask, though the answer seems clear in your mind.
He leans closer, dangerously close. His warm breath brushes against your face, and you can smell the faint aroma of coffee he always carried.
"Because I love you."
The confession hits you like a punch. You instinctively recoil, but you can’t go far because of the restraints.
"Love me? This isn’t love…" you say, trying to stay calm.
His expression hardens.
"Not love?" he repeats, as if tasting the words for the first time. He paces around you, each step echoing in the small room. "Didn’t you see me? I was always there, watching over you, protecting you from all those men who didn’t deserve you."
"Jun-ho… this isn’t right. Let me go, please."
He stops behind you and places his hands on your shoulders. His touch is firm but not rough.
"Not right?" he murmurs near your ear. "Isn’t it right to want the best for the person you love?"
Your body tenses. The danger in his voice is palpable.
"If you really love me, you wouldn’t do this," you try to reason with him.
He chuckles softly, a sound that makes you tremble.
"You don’t understand. This is for you. For us. You can’t keep living in that world full of people who don’t value you. I’m the only one who can."
"It’s not your decision…" you protest, but he moves quickly in front of you, leaning down until his eyes are level with yours.
"Of course, it’s my decision. Because no one else cares as much as I do."
His gaze is so intense it feels like it could pierce your soul. His obsession is undeniable, but behind it, you see something else: pain, loneliness, desperation.
"Jun-ho, listen… you don’t have to do this. We can talk, find a solution," you say, trying to keep your voice gentle, though inside, you’re terrified.
He smiles again, but this time there’s sadness in his eyes.
"You’ve always been so kind… so understanding. But you don’t get it. If I let you go, they’ll hurt you. I can’t let that happen."
"Who are they?" you ask, hoping to buy time to think of a way out.
He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he steps back a few paces, as if lost in thought. Finally, he speaks, his voice barely a whisper.
"Everyone. Everyone who tried to get close to you. Everyone who didn’t deserve you."
The air feels heavier. The idea of what he might have done to "protect" you starts to sink in.
"What did you do, Jun-ho?"
He looks at you, and for the first time, he seems vulnerable.
"What I had to."
His words are simple, but the weight behind them leaves you breathless. Your mind fills with horrible images, but you force yourself to stay composed.
"Jun-ho… let me help you. This doesn’t have to go on like this."
He shakes his head.
"I don’t need help. I’ve already done everything necessary."
You start to notice a slight tremor in his hands, as if guilt is beginning to catch up with him.
"If you really love me… trust me. Let me go, and we can figure this out together."
For a moment, it seems like your words are reaching him. He lowers his gaze, and you can see the internal struggle on his face. But then, he straightens up, and his expression hardens again.
"I can’t risk it. If I let you go, you’ll go back to that world… and I can’t allow that."
Desperation grips you. You need to find a way to make him see reason before it’s too late.
"What do you want, Jun-ho? What do you really want?" you ask, trying to keep his attention.
He steps closer again, his eyes burning with intensity.
"I just want you to be mine."
His answer feels like a sentence, and you know words won’t be enough to change his mind. But you can’t give up. Not now.
"Jun-ho, if you keep going down this path, we’ll never truly be together. This isn’t love. It’s fear."
The word seems to affect him. He takes a step back, his gaze faltering.
"Fear?" he repeats, as if trying to process it.
You nod, even though the fear in your own heart threatens to overwhelm you.
"You’re afraid of losing me. But keeping me here isn’t the solution. If you love me, trust me."
The silence that follows is unbearable. Finally, Jun-ho sighs and lowers his head.
"I don’t want to lose you…" he admits, almost in a whisper.
"You won’t," you reply, summoning all the conviction you can. "But you have to trust me."
For a moment, you think you’ve reached him. But then he lifts his gaze, and his expression is a storm of emotions.
"Fine," he finally says, with an eerie calm. "But if I let you go, promise me you’ll never abandon me."
Your heart stops. You know any wrong response could trigger something worse.
"I promise we’ll talk about this. But first, I need you to give me a chance."
Jun-ho stares at you, assessing you. Finally, he pulls a knife from his pocket and cuts the ties around your wrists.
"Don’t make me regret this," he warns.
You rub your aching wrists and look at him carefully. Every move has to be calculated.
"I won’t," you respond, though your mind is already planning how to escape this place.
Tumblr media
138 notes · View notes
goddamnitmahtin · 18 hours ago
Text
Beauty and the Beast
(A dc x dp prompt)
Danny was in college online so he didn’t really leave his house much. It was probably why he didn’t really realize it when Jazz started going out more than she used to. He was so swamped with his mechanical engineering major and astrology minor that he didn’t even bat an eye when Jazz started to go out at night. Most days, Danny didn’t even know what time it was anyways. He was constantly up at his computer, studying for this or designing that.
Every once in a great while he would go out to pitch his inventions to WE but nothing ever came from it most of the time. It wasn’t like he was expecting for it to go anywhere, he was just trying to get his foot in the door a bit. Maybe if they saw something in him now, he could get hired right out of college. That was the hope anyways.
So imagine Danny’s surprise when the CEO of WE himself asked Danny into his office. The Tim Drake. Holy fucking shit. This was either gonna be really good for him or REALLY fucking bad. Danny assumed it was about one of the inventions he had submitted. What if it was great and they wanted to patent it? What if it was absolutely trash and the CEO was calling him in just to tell him to stop sending in his shitty ideas? Knowing Danny’s luck it would be the latter.
“You wanted to see me Mr. Drake?” Danny said sitting in the chair across the desk.
“Yes I did,” Mr. Drake said, “And please, call me Tim.”
Danny wasn’t sure where this was going at all, “Sure, uh Tim.”
The young CEO looked to be about Danny’s age to be honest. He must have been really something if he was able to have been given the position so young. Mr. Drake- Tim sat forward, leaning on the desk with his elbows. Danny couldn’t help but notice that it was kind of attractive how he demanded power over the room even when acting casual.
“Danny, I have seen your work. It is remarkable to say the least. You have impressed me,” Tim said.
Danny smiled. That was a good sign. Maybe he could get a job upon graduation after all.
“Thank you,” he said in response.
“But that’s not why I called you here,” the CEO said, standing up from his desk. Danny watched as the man walked around the desk to sit on the tabletop right in front of Danny, smiling almost seductively.
Danny felt his face go hot as he realized that the man’s legs were placed right between his own. Mr. Drake was attractive before. But now… ancients be damned… how could he not be hot? Should Danny have been a bit more concerned with the clearly inappropriate behavior in a work place? Probably… but Danny was never the best at self preservation.
“Oh?” was all Danny could get out of his mouth before Tim flashed a dazzling smile that made his brain short circuit.
“You see Mr. Fenton, I seem to be more enamored with you,” the young CEO said, leaning in enough that his breath ticked Danny’s neck.
As we have established, Danny’s self preservation skills were absolute dog shit. So instead of any sort of alarm bells going off in his head, he felt that the next logical step in this situation would be to shoot his shot. Fuck it, why not?
“What, are you telling me to ask you on a date Tim Drake?” Danny asked, his lips curling into a smirk. Fuck the job, this guy in front of him would be much better.
He watched as Tim’s cheeks flushed for a moment before returning the smirk, “Are you asking me out on a date?” Ancients, his eyes really sparkled huh?
Danny crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair, “I dunno. If I did, would you say yes?” Be smooth Danny. Be smooth. You got this.
Tim leaned in, impossibly close, “Hm, I think I would.” Danny could feel Tim’s breath on his lips and ancients be damned if he didn’t get to find out what those lips tasted like later…
“Then I guess you have a date Mr. Tim Drake,” Danny said smoothly.
“I’m counting the seconds, Mr. Danny Fenton,” Tim replied. UGH THIS GUY WAS SO HOT- WHAT THE FUCK-
Now that Tim had secured a date with the Fenton guy, Operation Belle could start. Seducing the guy into letting him go on a date with him was remarkably easy. Now Tim just had to use his leverage to get what he really needed. Answers. How the Fentons knew about their secret identities. Who were they and why were they in Gotham? Whether or not Jasmine Fenton was really in cahoots with Killer Croc and if she was, was she involved willingly. In the meantime, Tim had to get ready for his date.
Anyways something something shenanigans, Danny thinks he’s landed himself a hot CEO boyfriend, Tim thinks Danny is some sort of villain who knows his identity, Jazz is just trying to date her “monster” boyfriend in peace and get him out of the criminal life, and Killer Croc is just trying to find a legal job to provide for Jazz.
Chaos ensues.
124 notes · View notes
mapleandgingeroatmeal · 2 days ago
Text
Alright! Rosie got the last one. Now it’s my turn. 
First off, credit where credit's due, I actually agree with you on the origin comic for the most part. Adding that first traumatic return to the backstory really undercuts the catharsis of the moment Veth finally returns to Yeza in Xhorhas and he embraces her unconditionally after all the built up tension of not knowing if he was going to, imo. This is the last place we agree unfortunately.
However, I have to tell you that nobody was actually misunderstanding you before. They got what you were saying, they just disagreed with it. It is such a gross misreading of the text to say that there is something fundamentally similar about how the two of them left their respective children behind. Sure they both did, but beyond that surface-level detail every piece of context that comes after is nearly opposite. Liliana made her own independent  choice to leave a place of safety, love, and security to fulfill her own needs without her child. Veth was kidnapped and tortured and in a moment of extreme duress made the ultimate sacrifice to allow her child to escape without her.
The “Hag thing” (and GOD I can’t believe we’re re-litigating this again) does not actually prove anything about Veth accept that she’s human and experiences temptation. She didn’t take a violent action. She thought about it briefly and experienced extreme guilt immediately afterwards. If anything, that proves how deeply UNLIKE Liliana she is. When presented with a very similar choice to knowingly sacrifice potentially hundreds of lives for the sake of solving her immediate personal problem, Veth makes the opposite choice that Liliana does. She prioritizes the safety of the world. She does so a SECOND time with Halas in the happy fun ball in fact. Don’t you think Liliana would have made both of those deals in a heartbeat?  
The argument that Veth should have done more to be immediately at her husband and son’s side feels to me to be deeply rooted in this very misogynistic idea that to be the best mother possible a woman must be entirely present with her whole self for a child no matter what. What do you think would have happened, comics aside, if Veth had come home as a goblin to a town that hated the way she looked? Would You have just hid her in the basement for the rest of her life? And Luc was with the goblins too, you know. Would you want her to try and parent him using the face of the creatures who tortured and starved him? It would have done nothing but retraumatize both of them. There was never really any choice there. She made every effort she could to parent from a distance, anyway; remember the first act she makes once she has some real money in Zedash is to send it home to Luc. She also works her hardest, as you even said, to do everything in her power to get herself back as soon as possible. Would you rather her sitting meekly at home hiding in the basement, living a life of fear and secrecy, in a body she hates, hoping that some day her husband or someone else will wander by and save her?
I don’t even know what to say about the parenting stuff. Is she a dreadful parent because sometimes she goes and does other things? Because she’s not quiet and gentle and sweet with Luc? Because she’s occasionally honest about how difficult and exhausting parenting a traumatized teenager can be, especially if you have an indulgent streak out of guilt after missing years of his childhood to tragedy and circumstance? Because if you think those things make you a dreadful parent than I’m telling you now that more than half the moms in this world are going to deeply disappoint you. 
Tumblr media
If the Good Moms of Critical Role ever learn about the shit Liliana's pulled it's on sight 😤
424 notes · View notes
rosenclaws · 20 hours ago
Note
Could I pleasssse request a smut/fluff fic with Logan where he secretly likes the reader and doesn't like the readers bf? The reader is in their early to mid twenties and has been best friends with Logan for years and he snaps one night when her bf is being an asshole 👀 thank you so much 😭
warnings: Angst to fluff, asshole boyfriend, he's mutant hating low key, threats, fighting
a/n: Hehehe i fucking LOVE a good jealousy fic, also I based the asshole ex on multiple asshole exes of my own lol.
Tumblr media
Things were well and truly complicated. You always knew what being a mutant meant for your relationship life. Having to dip your toes into the water to see if they the kind of person who wanted your kind dead or if they were more open to the idea of mutants.
Even then you ran into all kinds of assholes. If you could even get past the first date then you'd have to drop the bomb that you work at a mutant school with mutant children. Safe to say your dating life was pretty empty.
"You here again sweetheart?" You roll your eyes when you hear Logan's voice. It's Friday night and you're sitting in the living room of the mansion with a root beer.
“Yeah, so are you.” You bite back. He just chuckles and takes a seat next to you. Spreading his legs until his knee knocks into yours.
“Weren’t you supposed to go out with that kid, what was his name Jacob or…”
“Jason. Yeah he canceled when he saw the pick up address.” You remember the absolute terrified voice he spoke to you in, afraid you were going to melt his bones through the phone or something.
“You really know how to pick em.” You shove Logans shoulder as he laughs.
“Fuck off, I don’t see you getting any action lately either.”
“That’s because I’m not interested in dating some stranger.” He grumbles.
Truth is Logan hasn't been interested in anyone except for you for a while now. Its been years and as pathetic as it sounds Logan was too afraid to say anything. But there's no reason to mess up a good thing right? Plus it's not like you've been showing any interest in him.
“Look, any guy would be lucky to have you sweetheart, you just need to find the right one."
"Feels like I've been searching forever. Feels like I should make a marriage pact or something." You say with a groan.
"A marriage pact?" "Logan questions.
"Yeah you know, if we haven't found someone by the time we're forty we just, get married."
"We?" Your eyes widen and you start to flounder. The last thing you want is for Logan to think you're a creep or something. It's not like you fantasize about Logan or anything. Totally not.
"Not you, I mean if you wanted to then sure but I was just talking hypothetically you know. I mean god could you imagine you and I?" The words tumble out of your mouth with no filter. You just can't stop yourself. Logan cocks and eyebrow and you pray for something, anything to happen to help you shut up.
"Yeah...hard to picture you and I" Logan's face hardens as he talks.
Like he thought before, you don't want him. You could just burst into flames right here and now. The tension is palpable. Logan has been your friend for a long time but he never fails to make you a little nervous. He shouldn't have this hold over you but god he's just so big and intimidating.
"You know what? We should go out." You say abruptly.
"What? Hey give that back!" You grab the beer out of his hand and he looks at you confused.
"It'll be fun please, I'll buy the first round." You offer and he thinks for a second.
"Fine."
You don't really know what drove you to want to come here. It was loud and crowded and you and Logan had gotten separated after the first drink. Maybe you just wanted to avoid the odd feelings you get whenever you're alone with him. Plus that last conversation was awkward as hell.
You sigh as you swirl your drink around. You spot Logan across the room. He's leaning against the wall while a very pretty red head is all in his space. Your heart clenches as you notice the cocky smile on his face and how he's not pushing her away. Guess someone is getting lucky tonight and it isn't you.
"Hey, couldn't help but notice a beautiful girl all by herself." You look to your side to see a guy slide into the seat next to you. He seems nice enough. He's cute and all.
"Oh I'm here with a friend." You say looking back at Logan.
"Yeah, he seems busy to me. The name's Carter. Let me buy you a drink, no strings attached I swear." He offers. You take one last look at Logan, that woman's hand snaking up his arm. Fuck it.
"Alright deal."
Things since that night have been, a little off. You went home with Carter after Logan had disappeared. Carter was nice enough, at least he was at first. He treated you nice, bought you flowers. He didn't care you were a mutant or that you worked at a mutant school. He was the perfect gentleman. For the first couple months.
It happened so slowly you didn't even notice at first. You spent less time at the mansion, instead now spending it with him. The kids started to miss you and so did your friends but you were happy and they were happy you were happy.
You rarely saw Logan anymore. Ever since you came home from the bar he had been avoiding you, or something. Carter would come by the mansion but his nice guy persona seemed to fade the more he spent with everyone. It didn't help that one of your students accidently lit him on fire once. That's when the fights started.
He didn't trust the kids there, said they were dangerous. He would tell you that he liked mutants but h was worried for your safety. And he really didn't like Logan. The first time the two of them met it ended in a fight on the car ride back to his place. Logan was a strong personality and the two men clashed.
Soon every time your job got brought up it ended in a fight. He'd talk bad about your students, about your friends, about Logan. Carter wanted to keep you away from there because he loved you but they were your family.
He loved you, you had to believe it was all because he loved you. I mean you had spent so long looking for a man who didn't care about your job or your mutant abilities and Carter was that guy. At least you thought he was. You won't find anyone better. Carter liked to say that. It's hard to come by someone who's okay with what you are. So you just had to believe he did it all because he loved you.
"Do we really have to go to this stupid thing? Can't we just stay in..." Carters hand snakes up your leg but you bat his hand away making him huff.
A pissed off look on his face as you drive to the mansion. It was a simple staff party but it had been too long since you got to relax with all your friends. Carter had insisted on coming along but right now you wish he had just stayed home, especially if he was going to complain the whole time.
"This is really important to me. We don't have to stay long I promise." You say in a cheerful tone but Carter just rolls his eyes.
"Whatever." It was exhausting. To Carter anything he wanted to do was fine but as soon as there was something you wanted to do it was a chore.
"Don't understand why you're so obsessed with being around these...people." He mumbles under his breath. Not this again. You plaster on a fake smile as you pretend you didn't hear him. He loves you for who you are right?
The party was in full swing by the time you get in. You greet your friends, trying to hide your feelings as Carter says something about getting a drink.
"You finally made it." You turn to see Logan standing behind you.
"Logan! Didn't expect to see you here." You tease. Parties were never Logan's thing.
"I heard you might show up, can't miss that now can I?" He opens his arms and you don't hesitate to hug him. You missed this. Your nights used to be filled with movie nights and late night snacking with Logan. It's been so long since you got to do any of that.
"Hey, is everything okay?" Logan clocks the fake smile immediately. He's noticed the ways you've changed. You're deflated, tired. It's all that assholes doing and he knows it.
"Yeah every things fine," Logans hands rest on your arms, he's about to press you a little further but Carter comes back.
"Hey man get your hands off my girlfriend." Carter almost seems to puff out his chest as if he was trying to appear bigger than Logan. Logan rolls his eyes.
"Calm down bub, just saying hi to my friend."
"Well she's my girlfriend."
"Yeah she's also a person not a fucking object." Logan growls and you step to get in between the two of them. The last thing you wanted was a fight right now.
"It was great seeing you again Logan." You smile as Carter wraps his hand around your wrist.
Logan reluctantly lets go of you as you're taken away by your boyfriend. He feels this anger burning inside of him. Every time he sees that bastard touch you he wants to rip off his damn arms. Every time he sees your smile fall or hears your fake laugh.
"Jealous much?" Scott comments, a smirk on his face as Logan turns to glare.
"I ain't jealous." Logan snaps as he stalks away.
Yes he is, he's very jealous. He's jealous that asshole is your boyfriend and not him. He's jealous that he's not the one who gets to hold you at night and call you his girl. But he was too late. So he's got no one to blame but himself.
Carter hadn't left your side since your moment with Logan. Normally you'd be happy about this but he was doing nothing but complain every chance he got.
"Can we just fucking go home already. You saw your little friends."
"It's barely been an hour Carter. All I asked for was this one thing! These people are my family would it kill you to try and act interested." You snap, finally fed up with his attitude. He scoffs and crosses his arm.
"I am trying. It's not my fault your family are freaks! Especially that fucking monster." He says with an extra glare towards Logan. Heads start to turn as he raises his voice.
"They're not freaks and don't call Logan that! He is not a monster!" You hiss. You've had it up to here with Carter. Everything you thought about him was crumbling down. If this is what love was then you'd rather be single.
"Of course you come to his defense. What are you fucking him on the side?" He spits.
Logan looks ready to pounce but he's being held back. If he could he'd maim this guy until he's nothing but blood and bones. He doesn't care what insult this guy spews his way but the second he disrespects you, all bets are off.
"He's my friend that's why I'm defending him. I will not let you talk about anyone of these people like that! You are nothing but a hateful asshole. You can go home and don't wait up because you're done."
You're seething with anger but there's a sense of relief that washes over you. You can feel every ones eyes on you but you don't care. You turn around to walk away but Carter grabs onto your wrist.
"Don't fucking walk away from me!" You wince at how hard he grabs you and that's when Logan snaps. Like an animal he's on Carter in an instant. Claws out and a murderous look on his face.
"Get your fucking hand off her before I slice it off." Whatever arrogance Carter had was gone in an instant. He lets go of your wrist and grabs at Logan's arm but Logan is unmoving.
"Listen here bub, you're going to get your sorry ass out of here and never come back." Logan leans in, just close enough that Carter is the only one who can hear his next words.
"If you even think of contacting her again I'll find you and I'll rip you limb from limb." Carter scrambles out of Logans grip and falls to the ground.
"You're all fucking insane." He yells as he runs out the door.
There's a weight that falls off your shoulders the second he's out of your sight. You let out a sigh as you turn to face everyone. Some of them were looking at you with pity and others were happy he was finally gone.
"I am, so sorry for ruining the party."
"You didn't ruin the party sugar, we're glad he's gone. Now we can really party." Rouge says with a smile, you're grateful for her as this breaks the awkward tension.
Things seem to go back to normal but you slip outside, not really feeling a party mood anymore. You hear the door open and foot steps behind you. A root beer is placed in front of you and you gladly take it. Wordlessly Logan takes the spot next to you. Man you can't remember the last time you got to sit down with Logan.
"Thank you, and I'm sorry." You say. He shrugs and throws an arm around you, pulling you closer.
"Nothing to be sorry for sweetheart, asshole had it coming." He takes a sip of his beer and you sigh, leaning a little closer to him.
"How could I be so stupid, things went south way before tonight. I just...didn't want to see it."
"Hey, you're not stupid. You were in love." Love makes you do a lot of things. Turn a blind eye or in Logan's case. Pretend like the feelings aren't even there.
"No I wasn't. Not really. I think...I was so afraid of never finding someone that I latched onto the first guy to give me an ounce of attention." You groan. What's so wrong with wanting to be loved huh? Nothing. But you deserve a guy who isn't a complete asshole.
"There will be other guys, anyone would be lucky. to have you"
"Yeah? Like who?" You say with a snort.
"Like me." Logan says simply. Your eyes widen as you taken in what he just said.
"What?" You ask in disbelief.
Logan shifts where he sits. Fuck this isn't how he imagined telling you, in fact he thought he never would. But Carter made him so angry and he'd be dammed if he let another dick come and take you away again.
"Like me, I want to be the lucky bastard."
"I...Logan how long have you felt this way." You ask, a hand coming to rest on his chest.
"It doesn't matter,"
"Yes it does, please. I need to know how much of an idiot I've been." You beg and Logan frowns, he doesn't like it when you call yourself an idiot.
"Years sweetheart, I've been in love with you for years." He confesses.
All this time. He's been there. As your friend, as something more. Too wrapped up in his own shit to say something at first and then by the time he worked out some of it, it was too late. He hates to admit it but that asshole did one thing right, it pushed him to stop hiding how he really feels about you.
"Logan..." You whisper as your lean in close to him.
His hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Your lips ghost each other for just a moment, before he leans closer and kisses you. Your lips move together slowly. Logan groans against your lips as he pulls you even closer, if anyone were to look outside they'd see you practically crawling onto his lap.
His other hand cups your cheek, keeping you right there for him to kiss over and over. A part of you is kicking yourself for not saying anything to Logan sooner. So much pain and annoyance could have been avoided had one of you just confessed, but the other part of you is too happy to care. Too happy knowing that he felt the same way and that he was finally yours.
"I wish we had done this sooner."
"Me too sweetheart, but you have me now." He says as he kisses you again. A thought lingers in your mind and you pull away from Logan much to his dismay.
"Fuck, I need to get my shit from Carters place." You say with a groan.
"Don't say his name ever again," Logan grumbles and you laugh.
"I'll take care of everything so you never even have to think of that asshole." Logan buries his face in your neck, kissing every bit of skin he can reach.
"Now, lets ditch this party and make up for some lost time." Logan purrs.
God there's so much time to catch up on, you mourn what could have been but Logan taps your cheek. Snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts.
"You alright sweetheart?" You nod, shaking your head free of those thoughts. That's all in the past now, it took a while but you found your way to Logan and that's all that matters.
"I've never been better. Now, take me home."
127 notes · View notes