#yeah well i just needed them back somehow
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
prlssprfctn ¡ 3 days ago
Text
Jason, being a semi-canonic common hallucination in the family after his death, could lead to the stupidest AU ever.
Imagine everyone seeing him — Bruce, half of the time, Dick non-stop, Tim more often than not, and eventually even Alfred starts seeing little boy's silhouette in the corner of his eye, but he never admits it, because someone needs to stay sane in this family.
It is a lot like real-life cases when cult families start to see collective hallucination, and it somehow syncronises in their minds, so they hear and see the same things, you know?
So, yeah, everyone sees Jaybin around.
Everyone but Damian. Damian is a normal one. He also knows his Akhi is alive and well, so whatever. And it takes him some time to figure out that his family is bat-shit insane, but when he does, he decides to use it on his advantage.
Damian, calling Jason: Akhi, you should visit me. It is getting awfully boring here.
Jason, frowning: You know I can't. They think I am dead, and I can't risk my plan, especially now, when Red Hood is gaining-
Damian: We will pretend you are a hallucination.
Jason: ...What?
Damian: So, there is a plan...
So, a few days after this call, Jason arrives at the Wayne Manor. He still thinks his brother's plan sucks, but gaslighting is one of his many talents, so surely, they will figure something out. He can lie his way through this meeting.
Expect, he doesn't even need to lie. His family is actually insane.
Bruce, bumping in Jason:
Jason, staring back: Uh-
Bruce: Wow. You look so grown-up. And we look so alike. Nice one, brain.
Jason: ?..
Tim, leaving his room: Hi, B, hi- Oh, damn. Hi, Jaybin. Nice leather jacket.
Bruce: Right? I guess his ghost just grows up with us now.
Jason: ????
Alfred, nodding along, out of nowhere: Master Dick will hate it. He looks taller now.
All of them: (peacefully leave the room)
Jason: What. The. Fuck.
Jason waits for the moment of clarity to happen as he chats with Damian in the kitchen, but... nothing changes. They really, really think he is a hallucination. So... he starts hanging out around more. Both because Damian is getting angsty, and because it is kinda... amusing.
Tim, stuck on the same case for a few nights, non-stop: Oh, it is really just me and you in this, Jason.
Jason, playing Mario Cart on the table by his side: Maybe take a nap, dude.
Tim: No, I need to figure out this case with-
Jason, rolling his eyes: Red Hood had already dealt with it. Go to sleep.
Tim: ...You are such a good self-care kind of hallucination.
Jason: ...
Damian: Your bets, when will they realise that you are a real person?
Jason: At this point, I am not sure that they will, even if I start screaming that I am real.
Damian: Fair. I bet a year would do.
Jason: ...A year and a half.
Dick visits the Manor. He cooes at Jason, muttering something about "of course, he would have grown up in a punk," and Jason almost breaks his role to hit him on the head.
Jason, arms folded on his chest: You know, you need serious help, dad.
Bruce, blinking at him slowly: Probably. You know what else I need?
Jason: Sleep? Retirement? To stop adopting strays? The list is endless, man.
Bruce: ...Coffee. I need more coffee.
Jason, groaning: What the fuck!!!
Alfred figures out that Jason is real, eventually. Solely because he catches him sneaking a few extra cookies, and hallucinations are not supposed to eat. He plays along with him and Damian until the very end, anyway.
(Damian ends up winning the bet because Jason loses it once and pushes Bruce down the stairs, when he starts reciting some precautionary tale about him. Everyone is flabbergasted.)
3K notes ¡ View notes
pbaz7 ¡ 2 days ago
Text
ONE SHOT: HEAT CHECK
paige x azzi
warning: sexual content (whores 😒)
word count: 10.2k
A/N: This idea was not mine at all so all praise to the anon who sent me the prompt. I hope I was able to make your vision come to life lol. Let me know what you think! Very minimal proof reading this time so spare me
—————————————————————————
Paige had convinced herself she was fine, she was great actually. Really, she was.
Sure, her WNBA debut was one of the biggest moments of her life. Sure, she had spent the last 24 hours checking her phone, hoping for some last-minute miracle text from Azzi. But Azzi was in California for an endorsement meeting—one Paige knew was too important to miss.
It’s fine, she told herself again and again all day. She was now tugging at the hem of her warm-up shirt as she stood in the tunnel before tip-off. Azzi had sent her a long, sweet text a few hours ago, promising to watch the game no matter what. Paige could practically hear Azzi’s voice in the words, telling her she’d be amazing, that she’d be right there with her in spirit.
Still, it wasn’t the same.
She had wanted Azzi there. Needed her there, to fall into her arms after the game.
“Damn, P, you good?” Arike nudged her as they jogged back onto the court.
Paige blinked. “Yeah, why?”
“You just look... a little tense.”
Paige forced a grin. “It’s just the nerves.”
And it was. But it was also the fact that the one person she wanted to see in the stands—the only person whose opinion matters—wasn’t going to be there.
She glanced toward the front rows, taking in the packed arena. She couldn’t help but chuckle when she noticed some people.
Ice, KK, Sarah, Morgan and empty seats next to them surely for some other teammates.
They were one row back from the courtside seats, already settled in, talking amongst themselves. KK had her feet kicked out in front of her, looking completely at home, while Ice was scrolling through her phone. Sarah and Morgan were in conversation, but Paige could tell from the way Sarah was laughing that Morgan had just said something ridiculous.
A grin broke across Paige’s face.
But before she could even process it fully, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of player introductions.
She exhaled, shaking out her hands.
Okay. This was good.
Her people were here.
Well… almost all of them.
She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to focus.
The first half of the first quarter had been a blur. Paige had settled into the game quickly, feeding off the energy of the packed arena, her nerves long gone as she focused on what she did best. She hadn’t even thought too much about Azzi—not because she didn’t want to, but because she couldn’t afford to.
Paige was sitting on the bench during a timeout when the crowd erupted out of nowhere, loud and excited, their cheers rising above the usual buzz of a timeout. Paige, confused, wiped her face with a towel and glanced at the jumbo screen, searching for whatever had them going crazy.
Paige swore her mouth went dry.
Azzi was sitting courtside, waving to the camera like she knew exactly what she was doing. Her hair was in goddess braids—her go-to summer look—but it wasn’t just the hair that caught Paige off guard. It was the entire outfit.
Cowboy hat. Cowboy boots. A very short jean skirt. And Paige’s #5 Dallas Wings jersey.
Azzi was chewing her gum lazily, her glossed lips moving slightly in the process. She turned her head toward the court, her gaze locking on Paige like she had been waiting for this exact moment. A slow, smirk tugged at her lips before she sent Paige a quick wink.
Paige felt her pulse stutter.
“Oh damn,” Lou murmured beside her, letting out a low whistle. “She looks hot.”
Paige exhaled sharply, shaking her head as she wiped her towel across her face again, as if that would somehow cool her down.
Azzi just kept smirking.
The timeout buzzer sounded, but Paige was still sitting there, gripping her towel, her mind catching up to the fact that Azzi had somehow made it. Had gone out of her way to be here. Had done it all without telling her.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or drag Azzi out of her seat as soon as the game was done.
One thing was for sure, though—she’d be thinking about that damn outfit for the rest of the game.
After the timeout, Paige tried to refocus, but it was impossible to ignore Azzi, sitting courtside, looking like that.
Paige was doing her best to stay locked in, but every time the ball left her hands, she felt a certain pair of brown eyes on her. When she drained a deep three from the wing, she knew exactly where to look.
Her gaze flickered to Azzi, who was already watching her, the corners of her lips tugging up in the smallest smile. She didn’t cheer, didn’t do anything flashy like their friends in the row behind her—just raised her eyebrows slightly, as if to say, that’s cute.
Paige fought back a smirk as she jogged back on defense.
She didn’t have time to get caught up in whatever game Azzi was playing. Paige and Arike were playing off of each other perfectly. Their ball movement was seamless, as if they had played together for years and the defense was scrambling to keep up. Every time the defense adjusted, they had another move ready, feeding off each other in a way that made it clear just how dangerous this duo was going to be in the future.
But then, late in the quarter, Paige had to inbound the ball—right in front of Azzi’s seat.
She swallowed, walking over as the cameras in the arena turned in their direction. The moment stretched between them, tension buzzing in the air as Paige took her place near the sideline.
Azzi, fully aware of the attention on them, just leaned back in her seat, crossing her legs as she sipped her drink through a straw. It was a simple action—calm, almost nonchalant—but Paige could smell her perfume, that warm vanilla scent mixed with something slightly sweet, and it had her clenching her jaw just a little tighter.
Azzi must have noticed because she glanced up at Paige through her lashes, her lips curving just slightly before she took another sip of her drink, covering her smirk behind the straw so the camera couldn’t see.
Paige exhaled through her nose, biting the inside of her cheek at the attention.
Azzi didn’t say a word.
She didn’t need to.
She already knew Paige was thinking about her.
The ref finally handed Paige the ball, and she shifted back into game mode, shaking her head slightly to clear her thoughts as she got ready to make the inbound pass.
…
As soon as the final buzzer sounded and the win was officially in the books, Paige barely registered anything else. The moment she finished the postgame handshakes, she was already untucking her jersey, her feet moving on autopilot toward Azzi and her old teammates waiting courtside.
Azzi didn’t stand right away. She let Paige greet Ice, KK, Morgan, and Sarah first, all of them pulling her into hugs, hyping her up.
“You were hoopin’ tonight girly,” KK grinned, giving her a playful shove.
Paige smirked, bumping her back. “You know I had to put on a show for y’all.”
Ice threw an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s be real—you didn’t start playing for real until you saw Azzi.”
Paige rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t even argue.
Finally, she turned to Azzi.
Azzi stood, her smile soft and her eyes warm as Paige immediately pulled her into a tight hug resting her head on Azzi shoulder. Paige held on for a second longer than necessary, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, her heart settling in a way it hadn’t all night.
When she finally pulled back, she let her eyes sweep over Azzi, her gaze dragging over the cowboy hat, the denim skirt, and—most importantly—her jersey over Azzi’s frame.
“You look good,” Paige mumbled, voice just low enough for only Azzi to hear.
Azzi’s lips curled into a smirk, her eyes flickering with something.
“I know.”
Paige let her eyes drag over Azzi, taking in every little detail. She licked her lips without thinking, fingers twitching slightly at her sides.
Azzi, catching the look immediately, gave her a warning glance. “Stop,” she mumbled, tilting her head slightly. “We’re in public, and there’s cameras everywhere.”
Paige barely blinked. “I don’t care,” she muttered, her voice a little low as she reached down and tugged discreetly at the hem of Azzi’s skirt. “When’d you get this?”
Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Yesterday.”
Before Paige could respond, Lou appeared, sliding into the conversation with a huge grin.
“Azzi, you made it!” Lou beamed, pulling Azzi into a hug.
Paige took the opportunity to really look at her again, her gaze tracing over Azzi’s outfit, the way the jersey fit her just right, the way her legs looked in that skirt, the way she still had that damn smirk on her face.
Azzi felt her staring.
And she definitely wasn’t imagining the way Paige’s fingers brushed the back of her thigh before she pulled her hand away.
For a second Paige spent some time with her family, hugging her mom tightly, dapping up her dad, and joking around with her brothers and sister. The excitement from her first W game in Dallas was still buzzing around them, but before she could fully settle in, one of the staff members called her over telling her they wanted her for a postgame interview.
Before heading back, she found Azzi again, stepping up close as she spoke. “I’ll have Lou bring you the keys in a second.”
Azzi just nodded, her eyes still holding that same glint from earlier.
But before Paige could walk away, a photographer approached them, camera in hand, gesturing toward them for a picture.
Paige didn’t hesitate. She wrapped an arm around Azzi’s waist, pulling her in close, and Azzi melted into her, tilting her head against Paige’s shoulder. Her hand rested lightly on Paige’s stomach, fingers grazing the fabric of her jersey, and Paige swore she could feel the warmth of her touch through it.
The camera flashed.
Azzi smirked.
Then, they adjusted, shifting slightly as the photographer snapped more pictures.
In one, Paige held Azzi a little tighter, her fingers pressing into the soft denim of Azzi’s skirt. In another, Azzi turned slightly, her hand now resting a little firmer against Paige’s stomach.
Without even thinking about it, they turned toward each other.
For a moment, it was just them.
Azzi smiled first—it was small, soft, just for Paige—and Paige couldn’t help but mirror it, her grip tightening slightly on Azzi’s waist.
Click.
Paige barely heard the sound of the camera going off, but she knew that shit was about to be everywhere.
…
After showering and changing in the locker room Paige felt the exhaustion in her body, but the second she stepped into the garage and saw her car, that tiredness melted away.
She couldn’t fully see Azzi through the tint, but she knew she was in there.
A slow smile spread across Paige’s face as she walked past the driver’s side, stopping at the passenger door instead. She opened it, reaching inside and gently pulling Azzi out.
Azzi blinked at her, momentarily confused, adjusting her balance as she placed her cowboy hat on the seat behind her. "What are you doing?"
Paige just smiled, shutting the door before settling her hands on Azzi’s waist. Her gaze dragged over Azzi’s face, then down to her outfit—the denim skirt showing off just enough to make Paige’s pulse stutter.
“You look so good, baby,” Paige mumbled.
Azzi gave a small smile as she wrapped her arms around Paige’s neck. She hummed, tilting her head slightly.
“I know you already told me P.”
Paige chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. The moment felt thick now—like all the tension from the night had finally caught up to them.
She leaned in, her lips hovering just above Azzi’s, “The correct response is thank you baby.”
Azzi rolled her eyes and exhaled softly, her back pressing against the car as she followed Paige’s lead, tilting her chin up just enough to close the space between them.
The kiss was deep and desperate—the kind that made up for lost time. They hadn’t seen each other in over a week, and while that might not have been long for most people, for them, it felt like forever.
Paige’s tongue slid into Azzi’s mouth, her grip tightening as her hands moved under Azzi’s skirt, squeezing her ass.
Azzi let out a small sound at the feeling, a mix between a gasp and a pleased hum, pulling Paige closer as their bodies pressed together against the car.
They stayed tangled in each other for a while enjoying the feeling of the others lips after so long, But then Paige started trailing kisses down Azzi’s jaw, then lower, her lips brushing against the soft parts of her neck.
Azzi let out a breathy laugh, her hands coming up to Paige’s shoulders. “Alright, that’s enough ma’am.”
Paige mumbled against her skin, her voice muffled. “Come on, I miss you Az.”
Azzi smiled, tilting Paige’s chin up slightly so their eyes met. “I miss you too, baby, but we’re in public. And still in your place of work.”
Paige sighed dramatically, pulling back just enough to pout at her. “Fine.”
Azzi grinned before leaning in one last time, pressing a quick kiss to Paige’s lips, then turned toward the car. Paige exhaled, shaking her head fondly, before opening the passenger door for her.
As Azzi stepped in, Paige smiled, landing a playful smack on her butt. Azzi shot her a look over her shoulder, but the small playful smile on her lips betrayed her.
Paige shut the door, chuckling to herself as she made her way around to the driver’s side.
As Paige pulled out of the garage, steering them toward the afterparty, she finally got to ask the question that had been sitting in the back of her mind all night.
“How the hell did you even make it to the game?”
Azzi smiled, leaning back in her seat. “I moved my meeting up.”
Paige furrowed her brows, sparing a glance at Azzi before turning her attention back to the road. “To what time? It was already early as hell.”
Azzi shrugged slightly, like it was nothing. “Six.”
Paige’s head snapped toward her so fast she nearly forgot she was driving. “Six A.M.?”
Azzi hummed in confirmation, barely reacting.
“Baby, that’s crazy,” Paige said, shaking her head, still processing.
Azzi just shrugged again, scrolling on her phone.
Paige narrowed her eyes. “Did you close it?”
Azzi turned to her, giving her a look like she was almost offended by the question. “Of course.”
Paige grinned, reaching over and squeezing Azzi’s thigh. “That’s my girl.”
They kept talking as they drove, catching up even though they had talked every single day. Paige’s hand stayed resting on Azzi’s thigh, her fingers lazily tracing patterns over her skin as they talked.
Azzi didn’t mind. She let it stay there for most of the ride.
But then, at some point, Paige’s hand slid a little too high.
Azzi glanced at her, eyes narrowing. “Can you not?”
Paige didn’t even look at her, barely suppressing a smirk. “What?” she asked innocently, moving her pinky slightly just to prove a point.
Azzi scoffed. “You know what you’re doing.”
Paige smirked now, finally glancing at her. “I don’t know why you wore that skirt if you didn’t want me touching you.”
Azzi rolled her eyes. “I wore it for you.”
Paige grinned, turning her focus back to the road. “Exactly. So let me be.”
Azzi huffed, shaking her head, but she didn’t bother fighting it.
As they drove through the city, Paige glanced over at Azzi, who was casually scrolling through her phone.
“You know,” she started, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel, “if you would’ve told me you were coming, I probably would’ve played a lot better in the first few minutes of the game.”
Azzi grinned but didn’t look up. “And miss the chance to see your reaction when you noticed me on the jumbotron? Nah.”
Paige scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re rude.”
Azzi finally looked over at her, her smile softening. “You looked good out there, though baby I’m proud of you.”
Paige grinned, tilting her head. “Just good?”
Azzi sighed, playing along. “Fine. You looked great.”
“That’s more like it.” Paige reached over and squeezed Azzi’s thigh, then let her hand rest there again. “You staying with me for the whole month, right?”
Azzi nodded. “Yup. Figured I’d get tired of you after two weeks, but I’ll push through.”
Paige scoffed. “You love being around me.”
Azzi hummed. “You’re alright I guess.”
Paige gave her a look. “Bro please be for real.”
Azzi laughed, leaning back in her seat. “Okay, okay, yeah. I might love being around you all the time, just a little.”
Paige smirked. “That’s what I thought.”
They fell into a comfortable silence again, the only sound being the low hum of the car. After a moment, Paige gave Azzi’s thigh another squeeze before deciding to voice her thoughts.
“I want you to keep it on later,” she said, giving no context.
Azzi turned her head slowly, raising a brow. She didn’t need to ask what Paige meant—she knew.
“Who said you’re getting anything later?”
Paige shot her a quick look, deadpan. “Be for real Azzi.”
Azzi bit back a smile, letting the moment linger before finally sighing dramatically. “Whatever. I’ll think about it.”
Paige smirked as she pulled the car to a stop in front of the club. “Yeah, okay.”
As Paige handed her keys to the valet, she turned just in time to see Azzi stepping out of the car, holding down her skirt as she did so. Paige sighed, running a hand down her face.
“Nah,” she mumbled, eyes trailing down Azzi’s legs before flicking back up. “You’re not leaving my sight tonight.”
Azzi rolled her eyes but smiled, reaching for Paige’s hand and interlacing their fingers. “You’re so dramatic.”
Paige just shook her head. “I’m deadass.”
They walked into the venue, the bass from the music vibrating through the floor as they entered. The afterparty was already in full swing, players, friends, family and staff scattered across the club. Neon lights flickered over the bar, where bottles gleamed and loud laughter echoed over the music.
Before they could make it too far inside, a familiar voice rang out.
“P!”
Paige barely had time to react before Arike, already a few shots in, threw an arm around her shoulder. Her grin was as she pulled Paige in.
“We’re about to go crazy this year,” Arike yelled. “Tonight’s just the start rook.”
Paige laughed, nodding along. “You’re not wrong.”
Arike squeezed her shoulder before letting her go, and moving back toward the dance floor.
Paige turned toward Azzi, who just gave her an amused look. “She’s so different from what I expected.”
Paige laughed. “Bro just give her three more shots, and she’s gonna pull out a bible and make them turn off the music.”
Azzi chuckled as Paige nodded toward the bar. “C’mon, I see Lou, Ice, and KK.”
They made their way over, spotting them leaning against the counter, drinks in hand. Ice was mid-sip when she noticed them, setting her drink down with a smile.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” Ice teased, nudging KK. “And look at Paige bro.”
KK snorted, giving Azzi an exaggerated once-over. “I see why. Azzi, you tryna get someone in trouble tonight?”
Azzi rolled her eyes but smiled. “I literally just got here, and y’all are already on me?”
Lou laughed, sipping her drink. “You did walk in looking like that, though. You knew what you were doing.”
Paige hummed, wrapping an arm loosely around Azzi’s waist. “Exactly what I’ve been saying.”
Azzi just shook her head, leaning into Paige slightly. “Y’all are ridiculous.”
Lou raised her glass. “To another season and all of Paige’s sanity being tested.”
…
Paige and Azzi leaned against the bar, the bass of the music making the floor vibrate as they waited for another shot to accompany the drink they already had. The club was packed now. Paige had one arm draped loosely around Azzi’s waist, absentmindedly tracing her thumb over the fabric of her jersey as she barely listened to what Ice, KK, and Lou were saying.
Azzi took a slow sip from her glass, her lips wrapping around the straw before smirking at Paige. “You gonna keep staring at me, or you actually gonna drink yours?”
Paige huffed a laugh, taking a sip, eyes still on Azzi. “Hard not to when you’re wearing that.” Her hand brushed against the hem of Azzi’s short denim skirt, making Azzi arch an eyebrow at her.
“You’re horny,” Azzi murmured, leaning in just slightly so only Paige could hear.
Paige just grinned, shrugging. “I’ve been told.”
Their easy back-and-forth continued as they downed a couple of drinks, the warmth settling in and loosening them up. They weren’t being overly affectionate—just hanging out, laughing with their friends, letting the night settle around them. At one point, Lou challenged them to a ridiculous game of guessing random people’s professions just based on their outfits, and Paige and Azzi found themselves doubled over when KK confidently said some guy was a lawyer, only for him to turn around wearing a DJ staff badge.
Just as Paige was finishing her drink, she noticed Arike waving her over from a section across the club. With a smirk, she turned to Azzi, reaching up to flick the brim of her cowboy hat playfully.
“I’ll be right back, beautiful,” she murmured, her voice just low enough for Azzi to feel it more than hear it.
Azzi tilted her head. “Don’t take too long,” she said simply, sipping her drink again as Paige walked away.
A few minutes after Paige left Azzi was mid-sip of her drink when she felt someone slide up next to her at the bar. She barely had time to set her glass down before she heard a voice— one with a beach accent and distinctly unfamiliar.
“Hi, I’m Sevgi, but most people call me Sev. Or Gi.”
Azzi turned slightly, taking in the dark-haired woman beside her. Sevgi’s accent was thick, her posture confident as she leaned against the bar. Azzi, assuming she was just introducing herself as one of Paige’s new teammates, smiled politely and shook her hand.
“Azzi.”
Sevgi held her gaze, her lips forming into a smile. “You’re beautiful, Azzi.”
Azzi almost choked on her drink. She set it down quickly, grabbing a napkin to wipe her lips before forcing a tight smile. “Uh… thanks.”
Sevgi’s expression remained relaxed, like she hadn’t just casually caught Azzi off guard. “I’ve watched a few UConn games but I haven’t seen you around before. Did you move to Dallas?”
Azzi shook her head, sipping her drink again. “No, I don’t live here yet. I’m just visiting Paige for a while before going back to school.”
Sevgi’s gaze flickering toward where Paige was standing talking to Arike before settling back on Azzi. “Ah, so you’re here for Paige?” She hummed as if processing something. “Seems like a lot of people are, they love her already around here.”
Azzi simply hummed, confused by the comment. Suddenly wondering where the hell Ice and KK disappeared to.
Sevgi took another sip of her drink before smiling. “Paige Bueckers. One of the best to ever do it they say.” Her eyes flickered over Azzi’s face, her voice dropping just slightly. “I think she’s even luckier than I realized.”
Azzi’s brows lifted, her body tensing slightly as she finally clocked what was happening.
Before she could fully react, Sevgi leaned in just a fraction, lowering her voice like she was letting Azzi in on a secret. “I have a thing for shooters,” she said, her tone light but suggestive. “Especially ones with eyes like yours.”
Azzi, not really knowing how to navigate this, just says “Huh….”
Sevgi grinned, her fingers lightly drumming against the bar. “Mm. There’s something about precision, about the way a shooter locks in. So much focus, so much control…” Her voice dipped just slightly as she added, “It’s very attractive.”
Azzi exhaled through her nose, half amused by the attempt, half uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure if Sevgi just had a naturally flirtatious personality or if she genuinely had no idea that Azzi was very much taken.
Just as she opened her mouth to say something—anything to shift the conversation—she felt an all-too-familiar presence beside her.
Paige, who had returned from talking to Arike and was now standing between them with an unreadable expression.
Azzi barely had time to react to her presence before Paige’s hand was resting on the back of her neck.
“You’re a little close there, Gi, no?” Paige’s voice was light, but there was a slight edge beneath it that Azzi caught.
Sevgi turned her attention to Paige, offering a smooth smile. “I was just getting to know your—” she glanced at Azzi as if choosing her words carefully, “—your beautiful friend from UConn.”
Paige’s jaw tensed slightly, but she didn’t let it show, her fingers subtly tightening against Azzi’s neck. “Yeah? Well, my beautiful girlfriend doesn’t need any new friends tonight.”
Azzi bit the inside of her cheek, holding back a smirk.
Sevgi’s smile didn’t waver. “You know rook, in my culture, we don’t limit beautiful women to just one.”
Paige’s jaw tightened at that comment. “Look, Gi,” she said, her voice calm, “I really don’t know you that well yet, so I don’t know if you’re trying to be disrespectful or not, but I really hope that’s not the case.”
Sevgi held her gaze for a moment longer before raising her hands in mock surrender. “No disrespect. Just an observation is all.”
Paige didn’t blink. “Yeah? Well, here’s another one since we’re giving out observations—you’re standing too close to my girl.”
Sevgi exhaled, taking a small step back. “Noted.” She gave Azzi one last lingering look before saying, “Still… you’re stunning.”
Paige let out a sharp breath, her patience wearing thin.
Azzi, deciding to cut things off before Paige really lost her temper, gave Sevgi a polite but firm smile. “Appreciate it, but I’m good where I’m at. Really.”
Sevgi smiled but didn’t push further. “Fair enough.” She grabbed her drink and disappeared back into the crowd.
As soon as Sevgi was gone, Paige turned fully toward Azzi. Her jaw was still tight, but her eyes softened slightly as she took in Azzi’s amused expression.
“I leave you alone for two seconds,” Paige muttered, shaking her head.
Azzi laughed, looping her arms around Paige’s neck and pulling her in closer. “Not my fault I look good.”
Paige huffed, her fingers tugging at the hem of Azzi’s skirt. “It’s because of the skirt.”
Azzi let out another laugh, glancing down. “You can barely see my skirt—I’m sitting down.”
Paige hugged her tighter, her lips brushing against Azzi’s ear as she said, “Exactly. It’s too short.”
Azzi raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You weren’t saying that when you were grabbing my ass in the garage.”
Paige’s expression flickered for a moment before a smile spread across her lips. “Mmm… you make a good point.”
Before Azzi could respond, Paige pulled her up from her seat, and palmed her ass with both hands, squeezing firmly.
Azzi gasped, half-laughing. “Paige—”
“What?” Paige murmured, leaning in, voice dropping lower. “You were making a good point baby.”
Azzi exhaled, biting her lip as she shook her head. “You’re a perv.”
Paige rolled her eyes, completely unbothered. “No, I’m not. You’re my girl.”
Azzi huffed like she was annoyed, but the way she wrapped her arms fully around Paige’s head said otherwise. She pulled Paige in, pressing their lips together in a kiss. Paige responds immediately, squeezing her closer. The music and noise of the club faded into the background, the warmth of the moment making Azzi’s fingers tighten slightly in Paige’s hair.
Paige gave Azzi’s butt another squeeze, deepening the kiss, but just as she was about to take it a step further, Azzi mumbled against her lips, “I’m bored.”
Paige pulled back just enough to look at her. “Kissing me is boring now?”
Azzi rolled her eyes, fingers still playing with the hairs at the back of Paige’s neck. “No, us being here is boring.”
Paige smirked. “Oh yeah? What you wanna do then?”
Azzi tilted her head slightly, eyes flickering over Paige’s face as she tugged at the jersey she was wearing. “Go home,” she murmured. “Maybe show you how much I miss you… wear this for you like you want me to.”
Paige let out a quiet laugh. “Yeah come on, we’re leaving.”
The drive back to Paige’s apartment was quiet, the soft hum of music playing in the background as the Dallas city lights blurred past them. Azzi’s hand rested lightly over Paige’s, which had been sitting comfortably on her thigh since they got in the car. Neither of them had spoken much.
Paige was focused on the road, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against Azzi’s skin, but then she felt Azzi’s hand shifting, guiding Paige’s palm higher up her thigh. Paige’s grip instinctively tightened for a brief second before she shot her a look.
“Azzi,” she warned.
Azzi just hummed, acting innocent as she leaned over the center console, playing with the short hairs at the back of Paige’s neck. Paige swallowed hard, keeping her eyes locked on the road.
“You’re gonna make me crash,” Paige muttered, her jaw clenching slightly.
Azzi smirked, watching her with that look in her eyes. “Then keep your eyes on the road, baby.” Her fingers still tracing over Paige’s skin, her nails lightly scratching at the nape of her neck just to make her shiver.
Paige exhaled through her nose, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her spine, but then she felt Azzi shift closer, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to the side of her neck.
“Azzi.” This time, her voice was rougher.
“Hmm?” Azzi responded innocently, her lips grazing against her again.
Paige let out a slow breath through her nose, gripping the wheel a little tighter as she cast a quick glance at Azzi. A smirk was playing on her lips like she knew exactly what she was doing.
“What you doing, baby?” Paige asked, her voice lower now.
Azzi’s lips brushed against her jaw again, just barely. “I just miss you,” she murmured, her fingers still tracing soft patterns at the back of Paige’s neck.
Paige exhaled sharply but didn’t stop her. “You’re making it hard to drive, pretty girl.”
Azzi leaned back slightly, but not enough to fully retreat, still draped over the center console. “You’ve done more while you were driving before.”
Paige shot her another side glance, smirking now. “I remember. You couldn’t wait until we got home.”
Azzi hummed, tilting her head slightly. “Exactly. I had on jeans if I remember correctly.”
Paige swallowed, her jaw tightening as the memory rushed back to her. She nodded, gripping the wheel a little harder.
Azzi’s gaze flickered down to Paige’s hands before she spoke again, her voice quieter, almost too casual for what she was implying. “I have on a skirt now.”
Paige’s knuckles went white on the wheel.
Paige glanced at her, eyes flickering over her face before settling on her lips for just a second too long. “You drunk or something, baby?” she asked.
Azzi met her gaze. “No,” she said simply. “I told you, I just miss you.” She shifted slightly, her nails tracing absentmindedly over the back of Paige’s hand. “You think I dressed like this for fun?”
Paige swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling dry. Without thinking, she moved her hand up, her pinky brushing lightly against Azzi’s inner thigh.
Azzi let out the softest sigh, barely audible over the low hum of the music. She didn’t say anything, just leaned back and watched her.
Paige exhaled, shaking her head as a slow smirk spread across her lips. “You really tryna kill me tonight, huh?”
Azzi smiled, leaning her head back against the seat. “No. Not yet.”
Paige’s pinky traced slow, deliberate circles against Azzi’s underwear. She kept her eyes on the road, but the slight smile on her lips told Azzi she was enjoying this.
Azzi exhaled softly, shifting just a little, her breath hitching when Paige’s fingers pressed firmer for half a second before retreating, barely there.
Paige hummed. “You were saying?” she mused.
Azzi bit her lip, eyes dark as she glanced over at Paige. “I said… not yet.” Her voice was breathier now, betraying the effect Paige’s teasing was having on her.
Paige chuckled under her breath, her fingers tracing lazily along Azzi’s center, never quite moving where Azzi wanted but never pulling away either. Every so often, her knuckles would graze a little firmer, making Azzi’s legs tense slightly before relaxing again.
Azzi let out another quiet sigh, her fingers curling against the seat. “You’re playing too much,” she said, her voice laced with some frustration.
Paige turned her head just enough to meet her gaze, her smile growing. “Oh, now I’m the one playing?” She pressed her fingers a little more firmly, dragging them slowly along, savoring the way Azzi’s breath hitched again.
Azzi inhaled sharply, her whole body tensing in anticipation the moment Paige’s hand slipped beneath her underwear. Her eyes fluttered shut, a soft breath escaping her lips as she waited.
But then, suddenly, the warmth of Paige’s touch was gone completely.
Azzi’s eyes snapped open just in time to catch Paige lifting her thumb to her mouth, sucking on it.
Paige’s expression was casual, her eyes locked on the road, one hand steady on the wheel.
Azzi let out a sharp exhale, half frustration, half disbelief. “You’re such an asshole.”
Paige hummed around her thumb before popping it out with a smirk. “Oh, now I’m an asshole?” She flicked her gaze over to Azzi, blue eyes sparkling. “But I thought you missed me?”
Azzi clenched her jaw, narrowing her eyes as she shifted in her seat. “I do.” Her voice was firm, but there was a slight pout forming on her lips.
Paige chuckled under her breath, shaking her head. “Then be patient, baby.” Her hand returned to Azzi’s thigh, but this time, it was just resting there.
Azzi huffed, crossing her arms. “You’re mean.”
Paige fired back instantly, her smile only growing. “And you’re a brat.”
Azzi scoffed, shifting in her seat again so she was leaning away from Paige. “Maybe if you weren’t being so mean, I wouldn’t have to be.”
Paige let out a chuckle, squeezing Azzi’s thigh before pulling back again, just to be a tease. “Oh, is that how it works? So it’s my fault?”
Azzi turned her head to look at her. “Obviously.”
Paige bit back a grin, keeping her eyes on the road. “Sounds like someone needs to learn the word patience.”
Azzi let out a scoff. “I think someone needs to stop talking and drive faster.”
Paige hummed in amusement. “Oh, now you want me to focus on driving?” She shot Azzi a quick glance, lifting a brow. “Wasn’t that an issue, like, five minutes ago?”
Azzi exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “That was different.”
Paige laughed softly, reaching over to tug at the hem of Azzi’s jersey, pulling her slightly closer. “Mm. Convenient.”
Azzi let out a quiet groan, flopping back in her seat. “I hate you.”
Paige just chuckled again, squeezing Azzi’s thigh one last time before finally giving in and stepping on the gas just a little harder.
As Paige pulled into the garage, she barely had the car in park before Azzi was already unbuckling her seatbelt and pushing the door open.
Paige watched in amusement as Azzi slipped out, her long legs moving toward the house without so much as a glance back. Paige let out a chuckle, shaking her head as she turned off the engine.
By the time she made it inside, Azzi was by the entryway, bent down as she worked on taking off her cowboy boots. Paige let her eyes roam, taking in the way Azzi’s skirt rode up completely with the position, exposing more of her toned legs. Smirking, Paige stepped up behind her, hands easily finding her hips before she rolled her hips forward, playfully pressing into her.
“Don’t be like that, baby,” Paige murmured.
Azzi sucked in a sharp breath before immediately shoving her off, making Paige stumble back a step. She stood up, kicking off her boots without sparing Paige a glance before walking deeper into the house.
Paige chuckled, licking her lips as she followed. “Oh, so now you’re ignoring me?”
Azzi still didn’t say anything.
Paige smirked, enjoying this way too much. “Why you being like that, baby? I thought you missed me?”
Azzi exhaled, her hands clenching briefly at her sides, but she kept moving.
Paige trailed behind her grinning. “Mmm. What happened to all that talk in the car?”
Just as she reached the bedroom door, Azzi stopped. She turned her head slightly, finally meeting Paige’s gaze.
Paige smirked at that, stepping into the bedroom with an easy confidence. Azzi followed closely behind, her eyes immediately catching on something new.
“When’d you get that?” Azzi asked, nodding toward the large mirror now positioned perfectly in the room.
Paige’s smile grew, as she leaned casually against the dresser. “Got here yesterday.”
Azzi hummed, her gaze flicking between the mirror and the bed, taking in the angle, mentally mapping it out. Her lips curved slightly. “I like it.”
Paige pushed off the dresser, stepping closer until she was right in front of Azzi, tilting her chin up.
“That’s why I got it.”
Azzi rolled her eyes and tried to walk away again, but Paige was quicker, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back with little effort.
"Stop being a brat.”
Azzi just looked at her, lips pressed together, refusing to respond. Paige wasn’t fazed. Instead, she tugged her closer by the waist, dipping her head to press a kiss to Azzi’s neck.
"Let me get rid of that attitude for you," Paige whispered, her lips dragging against Azzi’s skin.
For a moment, Azzi’s resolve wavered. Her breath caught, and she instinctively tilted her head to the side, granting Paige more access. But just as quickly, she remembered why she was mad. With a sharp exhale, she planted her hands on Paige’s shoulders and shoved her back—not hard enough to truly push her away, but enough to make a point.
Paige only laughed, her tongue brushing over her bottom lip as she grinned. "Oh, you’re really mad, huh?"
“Yes you called me desperate.”
Paige’s jaw dropped. “Bro, no I didn’t.”
Azzi’s glare was instant. “Don’t ‘bro’ me.”
Paige sighed, pulling Azzi closer again, her hands resting firmly on her waist. “Baby, I did not call you desperate.”
Azzi didn’t budge. “You basically did.”
Paige huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head before dipping down to press slow, open-mouthed kisses against Azzi’s neck. “I didn’t,” she muttered between kisses. “But even if I did, it doesn’t matter.” Her lips traveled lower. “You know I love it when you’re like that for me.”
Azzi’s breath hitched, her body betraying her as her head tilted again, granting Paige more access. But she didn’t fully give in—her hands remained stubbornly at her sides, her posture still carrying the weight of her petty grudge.
Paige smirked against her skin, nipping just lightly before pulling back. “What I gotta do to make it up to you, baby?”
Azzi’s lips finally formed a smile at that, looking at her. “I wanna go back to the car.”
Paige raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “We have a whole house, baby. Why you wanna go to the car?”
Azzi shrugged, but there was a glint in her eyes. “Because we haven’t fucked in your new car yet.” She let that sink in before adding casually, “And it’s bigger than your Jeep.”
Paige scoffed, about to respond when Azzi leaned in close, her breath warm against her ear.
“And,” Azzi murmured, right before biting down softly on Paige’s earlobe, “you can’t run from me in the car.”
Paige swallowed hard, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief second as she licked her lips. She nodded—maybe a little too eagerly—before mumbling, “Okay… yeah, we can go to the car. Whatever you want.”
Azzi beamed at that, turning on her heel and heading toward the closet immediately. Paige watched her, smirking when she saw the first thing Azzi grabbed. But then her smirk dropped completely when she saw the second.
Her brow furrowed. “What’s that for?”
Azzi barely glanced at her as she responded, “You know what it’s for.”
Paige’s stomach tightened as she watched Azzi casually walk out of the bedroom, clearly expecting her to follow. She hesitated for a second before trailing behind her, saying, “I almost died last time we tried that.”
Azzi threw a smile over her shoulder. “Well, you shouldn’t have called me desperate.”
Paige groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “She’s about to kill me,” she mumbled under her breath, shaking her head as she followed Azzi out of the room, through the house, and straight into the garage.
Paige got in the car first pushing both front seats forward to create more space. She moved with ease, but there was still an underlying tension in her movements—anticipation low in her stomach as she adjusted the seats. Once she was satisfied, she leaned back, expecting Azzi to climb onto her lap like she always did.
But instead, Azzi leaned forward, connecting her phone to the car’s Bluetooth. Paige watched her, eyebrow raising slightly as Azzi scrolled through her playlists, carefully ensuring the engine wasn’t actually on before the speakers filled the car.
Paige exhaled through her nose, smirking as she rested her hands on her thighs. “You settin’ the mood or something?”
Azzi didn’t answer. She took her time, adjusting the volume, tilting her head as if she was testing how the music sounded in the space. Then, finally, she settled in the back seat, straddling Paige hips, her hands finding their place on Paige’s shoulders.
Paige’s smile grew as her hands settled on Azzi’s waist. “That a yes?” she teased.
Azzi smiled, leaning in so her lips just barely brushed Paige’s. “Stop talking.”
Paige nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yes, ma’am.”
Azzi didn’t give her a chance to add anything else before she closed the distance, her lips molding against Paige’s in a kiss that she led with confidence. Her tongue slipped past Paige’s lips, exploring her mouth like she owned it, and Paige let her—let her take, let her have, let her do whatever she wanted.
Paige’s hands found Azzi’s butt, pulling her in until there was nothing between them, her fingers flexing underneath Azzi’s skirt.
It was always a miracle how long they could stay like this—kissing and learning each other over and over again—until their lips were almost raw and they were both burning from the inside out.
Paige was completely under Azzi’s control, gripping her like she was afraid to let go, as Azzi’s hand wrapped securely around her neck. Every time Paige tried to shift, to gain a little more, Azzi only tightened her grip, keeping her where she wanted.
When Paige finally broke away from the kiss, her breathing was uneven and her lips were tingling. “Baby, please.”
Azzi looked down at her. “Please what?”
Paige groaned, her hands sliding up Azzi’s back in frustration. “I need something.”
Azzi hummed, tilting her head as if she was considering it . “Mm.” She leaned in, brushing her lips over Paige’s jawline before trailing down to her neck.
Azzi smiled, running her fingers through the hair at the nape of Paige’s neck, tugging just enough to make Paige suck in a breath. She moved up, her lips barely grazing the shell of Paige’s ear as she whispered, “I haven’t even done anything yet.”
Paige let out a shaky exhale, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s thighs before she murmured, “That’s the problem, baby.”
She tried to slide her hands up, reaching for the hem of Azzi’s skirt, but before she could make contact, Azzi caught her wrists, intertwining their fingers as she pinned them down. “I didn’t say you could do that.”
Paige sighed, tightening her jaw as she let her head fall back against the seat in surrender. She was burning with impatience, but she knew better than to fight Azzi on this—not when she was playing her little game.
Azzi took full advantage of the position, tilting her head to press slow, open-mouthed kisses down the side of Paige’s throat, occasionally nipping at her skin just to feel the way Paige shuddered beneath her. Paige sighed heavily, groaning here and there, murmuring pleas in between sharp intakes of breath. But every time she tried to coax Azzi into more, Azzi only chuckled against her skin, whispering smug remarks in return.
“You getting desperate, baby?”
Paige groaned. “Azzi—”
Azzi licked a long trail up her neck. “Mmm. You’re cute when you beg P.”
Paige scoffed. “I’m not begging.”
Azzi pulled back slightly, tilting her head. Then she smirked. “You don’t want me?”
Paige swallowed hard, her hands twitching where Azzi still had them pinned. “Course I do.”
Azzi hummed in satisfaction before whispering, “Then beg for it.” She bit down a little harsher this time, drawing a sharp inhale from Paige before soothing the spot with her tongue.
Paige held firm, refusing to give in so easily. She just let Azzi work her way along her neck knowing exactly how to unravel her. But Azzi knew this little front of Paige’s all too well. Knew the stubbornness. Knew exactly how to break it.
So she shifted, pressing her hips down just a little more, her breath fanning against Paige’s ear as she let out the softest moan.
Just like that, Paige cracked. “Fuck—Az, please, baby.”
Azzi smiled. “Please what, Paige?”
Paige groaned, her voice rough. “Lemme get you right.”
Azzi chuckled at that, pulling back just enough to meet Paige’s gaze. “Oh? Is that what’s gonna happen?”
Paige only hummed in response, her hands finally breaking free to palm at Azzi’s butt, pulling her in closer.
Azzi just smiled down at Paige as her fingers worked at the buckle of Paige’s belt, taking her time, teasing her without any words. Paige just watched her, eyes hooded, a small grin tugging at her lips.
Azzi caught the expression and arched her eyebrow. “What are you smiling at?”
Paige exhaled a soft chuckle, tilting her head back slightly against the seat. “You look good.”
Azzi hummed at that, feigning nonchalance, but the way her lips curled told a different story. “Yeah?”
Paige’s eyes flicked between Azzi’s hands and her face, her grin widening just a little. “Yeah. Real good.”
Azzi shook her head, amused, but didn’t argue.
Once Paige’s belt was undone, Azzi slipped off her lap simply saying, “Take off your clothes,” as she began to unzip her own skirt.
Paige immediately obliges, tugging at her clothes, ripping them off as if they were on fire. Once they were off, she reaches for the harness silently praying Azzi doesn’t remember what else she grabbed.
Azzi chuckles at this, reaching over Paige to grab the small vibrator she had sitting there. She looks at Paige expectantly, not saying anything as she pushes it toward her.
Paige sighs as she takes it from Azzi’s hand and slides the vibrator into the slits of the harness, turning it on before she pulls the harness against herself, taking a sharp breath immediately at the feeling.
Once Paige was situated Azzi climbed back onto her lap, settling on her thighs first as she gathered her long braids, moving them to one side. Paige watched her, eyes hazy, the desire in her eyes unmistakable.
“Nah,” Paige murmured, voice rough. “You need to get on it now.”
Azzi chuckled softly, dragging the moment out just a little longer before she lifts her hips up and eases herself on top of Paige slowly, letting out a quiet sigh as she did.
Paige’s reaction was instant. Her head fell back against the seat, a deep groan escaping her lips. “Fuck baby,” she breathed, arms lifting to rest on the back of the headrests, fingers flexing as she tried to keep herself from reaching for Azzi knowing she wouldn’t last long if she did.
Azzi kept her eyes locked on Paige as she rolled her hips moving like she was putting on a performance just for her. A teasing smile on her lips as she watched Paige try not to unravel beneath her.
Paige’s head was still thrown back against the seat, arms stretched over the headrest like she was watching a show—but the longer Azzi moved, the harder it became for her to keep up the act. Her jaw tightened, eyes fluttering closed as she swallowed hard.
Azzi smirked at that. She leaned forward, grabbing Paige’s arms from the headrest and guiding them around her waist, forcing Paige to hold her. As soon as Paige’s hands found their place on Azzi’s hips, Azzi tangled her fingers into Paige’s hair, tugging gently as she whispered near her ear, “You’re supposed to be watching, baby.”
A low moan escaped Paige’s lips. “I can’t, baby.”
Azzi hummed in amusement, her movements never faltering as her own breath got a little uneven. “Why not?”
Paige sucked in a breath, struggling for words. “Because…”
Azzi chuckled, her breath warm against Paige’s ear. “That’s not a full sentence,” she teased, letting a soft gasp slip as she pressed herself closer.
Paige groaned, tightening her grip on Azzi’s waist as she felt the deliberate push against her. Azzi pulled back slightly, her fingers grazing the hem of Paige’s jersey she had on, lifting it just enough to make Paige’s breath hitch. The slow, torturous pace was getting to her.
Paige was never one to let Azzi have all the control. Wanting to turn the tide in her favor a little, she lifted her hips into her, just enough to catch Azzi off guard. Azzi let out a sharp moan, her eyes fluttering closed as the movement sent a jolt through her.
Mmm, what happened, baby?” Paige purred, her voice dripping with amusement as she tilted her head, watching Azzi’s every move. Her hands slid down to Azzi’s ass, fingers tightening as she pulled her even closer, grinding against her slowly. “Getting a little lost, huh?”
Azzi’s breath hitched, her hands gripping Paige’s arms for leverage. “Probably you more than me.”
Paige’s grin widened as she felt Azzi’s breath stutter, the slight hesitation before she recovered. “Mmm, I don’t think so baby,” Paige whispered as she lifted Azzi’s hips completely before pushing them back down.
Azzi’s jaw tightened, refusing to let Paige see just how much she was getting to her. Instead, she retaliated, rolling her hips, pressing down against Paige in a way that forced a sharp inhale from her lips.
The smirks on both of their faces never fell as they pushed and pulled, challenging each other for dominance. Paige’s fingers dug into Azzi’s hips as she tried to hold her still, but Azzi countered by shifting forward, her hands sliding up Paige’s arms before pressing into her shoulders for leverage.
Neither wanted to give in, their bodies moving in sync as they played their little game—one teasing, the other taunting, both determined to win. Little sounds slipped from their lips, unintentional reactions to the tension between them, to the way their control over the situation teetered with every movement.
Azzi leaned in, her lips hovering over Paige’s, their heavy breaths mingling. “You sure you’re winning this one, baby?” she taunted, her voice just barely above a whisper.
Paige swallowed, as she smirked. “You’re not.”
Azzi, not liking that, rolled her hips down again, watching as Paige’s head fell back against the seat, her fingers tightening around Azzi’s waist. Paige sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, trying to hold on to her composure, but Azzi caught the way her body twitched under her.
Paige recovered quickly, exhaling sharply as she dragged her hands up Azzi’s back.
She flipped their positions pressing Azzi back against the seat, her hands pinning Azzi’s wrists on either side of her head. Azzi’s eyes widened in surprise before she let out a soft chuckle, biting her lip as she looked up at Paige before pulling her in for a kiss.
Paige groaned against Azzi’s lips, her fingers gripping at the jersey, bunching the fabric in her fists as she deepened the kiss. Azzi hummed into her mouth, pulling Paige closer, her hands sliding up Paige’s back before tangling in her hair. The kiss was messy, all tongue neither of them holding back as they pushed and pulled at each other, fighting for control even now.
Paige nipped at Azzi’s bottom lip, pulling away just enough to murmur, “You look so fucking good in this, baby.” Her voice was thick, her eyes heavy as she tugged at the jersey again.
Azzi smirked against her lips, tilting her head slightly. “Yeah? You like it?” she teased, running her hands down Paige’s back before gripping her waist, and flipping their positions back. Paige barely had time to react before she found herself against the seat again, Azzi now on top, straddling her once smirk again.
Paige's grip tightened instantly, her fingers digging into Azzi’s skin as her head fell back against the seat. “Fuck, I can’t, baby,” she groaned, her voice strained, eyes squeezed shut as she tried to hold on. “I’m close.”
Azzi, still in full control, shook her head. “No,” she murmured. “Not yet.”
Paige let out a desperate sound, her hands gripping harder as her breath came out in uneven pants. “I—I can’t control it, mama,” she admitted, her voice breaking slightly as she fought against the overwhelming feeling.
Azzi hummed in response, bringing Paige’s hands up to place them firmly on her chest under the jersey. “Yes, you can,” she whispered, pressing her forehead against Paige’s, their breaths mingling. Paige whimpered, eyes fluttering open just enough to meet Azzi’s gaze.
Azzi smirked, tilting her head as she kept her rhythm steady, teasing, pushing, and pulling Paige right to the edge but never letting her tip over. “I want you to hold it for me,” she mumbled against Paige’s lips, her fingers sliding into Paige’s hair.
Paige's jaw clenched as she let out a shaky breath, her entire body tense beneath Azzi. Her hands trembled slightly as she squeezed Azzi’s hips, desperately trying to focus, to obey, even though every fiber of her being wanted to let go. “Fuck I can’t,” she groaned, voice hoarse. “You’re killing me, baby.”
Azzi chuckled, pressing a kiss to Paige’s jaw. “No, I’m making you feel good.”
Paige’s grip faltered as she instinctively moved her hands away from Azzi’s waist, gripping the leather seats beside her in a desperate attempt to ground herself. But Azzi wasn’t having it. She grabbed Paige’s hands, guiding them right back to her hips.
Paige let out a shaky breath, her body tensing beneath Azzi’s as she struggled to maintain even a sliver of control. But Azzi knew exactly what she was doing—exactly how to unravel her.
Pressing soft, lingering kisses along Paige’s neck, Azzi hummed against her skin. “Why do you keep moving your hands, baby?” she whispered, her voice low, teasing.
Paige swallowed hard, her fingers twitching against Azzi’s waist. “I—I don’t know,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.
Azzi smirked, kissing just below Paige’s ear. “Mmm. You don’t know?” she murmured, trailing her lips lower as her fingers traced slow circles against Paige’s wrist. “You always get like this when I take my time.”
Paige let out a frustrated groan, her fingers gripping Azzi’s hips even tighter. “Az..Fuck—Az please,” she breathed, her head falling back.
Azzi chuckled, running her fingers through Paige’s hair before gently tugging. “Did you like my outfit today?” she asked.
Paige let out a shuddering breath, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s waist. “What?”
Azzi kissed along her jaw, her teeth biting against the sensitive skin. “I saw you looking all night,” she continued, her tone light. “You think I wore it just because?”
Paige squeezed her eyes shut, her body reacting before she could even think of a response. Azzi was relentless—and completely in control.
“Tell me,” Azzi whispered, biting lightly at Paige’s ear. “Did you like it baby?”
Paige’s breath hitched, her hands gripping Azzi’s waist harder as she struggled beneath her, the tension in her stomach pulling with every word. “You know I did,” she admitted, her voice nearly breaking.
Azzi hummed in satisfaction, kissing down Paige’s neck again. “Good.”
Paige’s entire body was taut beneath Azzi, every muscle locked as she tried—desperately—to hold on. But Azzi kept dragging out every second.
“I’m close baby,” Azzi whispered, her voice strained, her hips still moving in perfect rhythm.
Paige groaned, her grip on Azzi’s waist bruising as she fought to keep herself together, her breathing ragged. “Baby, please,” she gasped, eyes fluttering shut, her resolve hanging by a thread.
Azzi leaned in, capturing Paige’s lips in a kiss that stole the last of her restraint. It was deep and possessive, sending a sharp, overwhelming heat rushing through Paige’s body.
That was all it took. Paige tensed beneath her, a strangled moan leaving her lips as she completely unraveled, her hands gripping Azzi like she was the only thing keeping her tethered to reality as her body started to shake.
But Azzi didn’t stop.
Even as Paige trembled beneath her, trying to catch her breath, trying to get Azzi to slow down, she kept moving—dragging her lips along Paige’s jaw, whimpering softly in her ear as she chased her own release.
Paige whined, her hands sliding from Azzi’s waist to her thighs in an attempt to stop her movements . Saying desperately, “Az, baby it’s too much. I can’t—”
Paige barely had time to finish her sentence before Azzi’s lips were on hers again, swallowing every whimper and shaky breath. Azzi kissed her deep, desperate, as if she was chasing something only Paige could give her.
Within seconds, Azzi’s body tensed on top of Paige, her grip tightening in Paige’s hair as she gasped into the kiss. Paige felt it—the way Azzi’s body shuddered, the way her fingers curled into her scalp, the way she bit down on Paige’s bottom lip to stifle the sound that threatened to escape.
Paige groaned into the kiss, overwhelmed by how good Azzi felt against her, by the way Azzi clung to her like she never wanted to let go. She held her close, letting her ride it out despite the tension rapidly growing in her stomach again as she pressed soothing kisses against her jaw as Azzi's breathing came in soft, uneven pants.
“Damn, baby,” Paige murmured, her voice rough, her hands still gripping Azzi’s waist like she needed something to ground herself.
Azzi let out a breathy chuckle, her forehead resting against Paige’s as she tried to collect herself. “Told you I wasn’t desperate,” she whispered, a smirk pulling at her lips despite how dazed she looked.
Not being able to take anymore Paige pushed Azzi off of her as she struggled to pull the vibrator off of her. Azzi chuckled as she watched Paige struggle, her chest still rising and falling unevenly. She leaned back against the seat, completely unbothered, while Paige ran a hand down her face, trying to collect herself.
But Paige wasn’t having it. With a huffed breath, she reached for the door handle, muttering, “We’re going upstairs.”
Azzi smirked, tilting her head as she reached for her skirt thrown on the seat. “Yeah?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.
Paige shot her a look, jaw tight, eyes still clouded. “Yeah,” she confirmed. “Now.”
Azzi hummed, pushing the car door open as she stepped out, stretching her arms lazily as if she wasn’t still feeling everything that just happened. As Paige moved to follow, Azzi turned back, biting her lip before murmuring, “I’ll be by the mirror baby.”
Paige turned off the car, taking a deep breath to steady herself before stepping out.
Azzi was already heading inside, her skirt discarded on the floor, leaving her still in nothing but that damn jersey that barely covered anything as she made her way upstairs. She didn’t even look back—just walked with an effortless sway that had Paige gripping the door frame for a second longer than necessary.
Paige smirked, licking her lips as she shut the door behind her. “I’m about to fuck her up,” she muttered to herself, rolling her shoulders back in confidence.
She followed Azzi up the stairs, her cocky smirk only growing as she shut the bedroom door.
381 notes ¡ View notes
ducktoo ¡ 2 days ago
Text
Getaway
Jo Yuri x M!Reader
Note: here’s to the hamster girl that got the big bag from the squid 🫶
Tumblr media
It started with excitement. A group chat buzzing with memes about sunsets over the ocean, lists of must-try cruise activities, and an unhealthy number of debates over how many swimsuits one person actually needs. This was supposed to be the trip—five days of relaxation, laughter, and memories with your closest friends.
Then the excuses started rolling in.
First, it was Jihun. “Sorry, man, work’s piling up. I can’t take the time off.” His message was punctuated with a sad face emoji, as if that would soften the blow.
Next, Minji dropped out, claiming some vague “family emergency.” You tried to sympathize until you saw her Instagram story of her at a café with her dog, captioned Much-needed chill day.
By the time Seungmin admitted he “forgot” about his cousin’s wedding, you were already resigned to your fate. One by one, your friends bailed, leaving you holding the metaphorical bag—and the very literal cruise ticket.
Cancelling wasn’t an option. Non-refundable, non-exchangeable, non-everything, because you’d been too cheap to spring for the insurance. You’d planned for the luxury cabin, imagining yourself waking up to ocean views and feeling like royalty with your close friends. But with everyone else backing out, your budget evaporated faster than the group chat notifications.
Which led to this: you, booking a shared cabin with a stranger. It was either that or throw away the money you didn’t have to lose.
“You’ll be fine,” you told yourself as you stared at the confirmation email. “It’s just five days. How bad could it be?”
-
Yuri tugged the strap of her duffel bag higher on her shoulder, sighing as she handed over her cruise ticket at the check-in counter. She was supposed to be here with her family—her parents, her older sister—but life had a way of throwing curveballs.
Her sister had come down with the flu two days before the trip. Nothing too serious, but enough that her parents decided to stay home to take care of her. “You should still go,” her mother had insisted. “We already paid for your ticket. Think of it as a break.”
Yuri didn’t argue. A break sounded… necessary.
After Squid Game Season 2 aired, her world had been flipped upside down. Fame was exhilarating, sure, but it was also overwhelming. Endless interviews, promotional events, fans recognizing her on the street. It felt like she was constantly on, with no time to just breathe.
She’d thought about cancelling. Spending five days alone on a cruise ship wasn’t exactly her idea of fun. But her mother’s words lingered: You need a break, Yuri. Go.
So here she was, trying to convince herself that five days of ocean views and buffet dinners could somehow make her feel like herself again.
The only catch? She’d been bumped to a shared cabin because of a last-minute shuffle in bookings. “It’ll be fine,” the cruise rep had told her over the phone. “It’s just a roommate. You’ll hardly notice them.”
Yuri rolled her eyes at the memory. Hardly notice them?
Yeah, right.
If this was anything like her recent luck, her roommate would either be a chatterbox who didn’t know the meaning of personal space or some fan who wouldn’t stop asking about the show.
She stepped into the tiny cabin, already dreading the next five days.
-
The cruise ship looms large in the harbor, its pristine white exterior gleaming under the midday sun. You pause for a moment, clutching your duffel bag, letting the salty breeze wash over you. The idea of going on this cruise solo still feels surreal, but with all your friends bailing at the last minute, you weren’t about to let the ticket—and your deposit—go to waste.
The fact that you’d been downgraded to a shared cabin? Well, that was a bitter pill you were still swallowing.
Cabin 512A. The number taunts you as you make your way down the narrow, carpeted hallways.
The luggage wheels behind you squeak, the only sound in the otherwise quiet corridor. You grip the keycard tightly, your heart thumping faster than it should. Sharing a cabin with a stranger was bound to be awkward, but you’d convinced yourself it couldn’t be that bad.
The door beeps as you slide the keycard, and you step inside. It’s… snug. Two single beds crammed into a space that feels more like a walk-in closet with delusions of grandeur. One bed is already claimed, judging by the neatly folded hoodie and headphones resting on it.
You hear a faint sound—a soft hum—from the bathroom. Your brows knit together. It’s familiar. Too familiar.
The door creaks open before you can dwell on it further, and your new cabinmate steps out. She’s small, dressed in an oversized sweater and denim shorts, her hair casually tied up. For a moment, her gaze locks with yours, her eyes wide and questioning.
“UH…hi,” she says, her voice soft but steady. “You must be my roommate.”
You nod, but you’re not really listening. Your brain is short-circuiting, trying to process what you’re seeing.
Jo Yuri.
Not just your cabinmate—Jo Yuri, the breakout star from Squid Game Season 2. You’d binge-watched the entire season when it came out a few months ago, captivated by her performance. She played one of the more appealing characters: the underdog who managed to power through the entirety of the season. People online had been calling her the “puppy of the season.”
And now, she’s standing in front of you, looking more ordinary than you ever thought possible. No makeup, no stylists, just a girl with messy hair and an easy smile.
“Uh… yeah,” you finally manage, trying to play it cool. “That’s me. Roommate. Hi.”
She chuckles, her smile widening. “You okay there? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
You shake your head quickly, attempting to compose yourself. “No, no. It’s just… you look really familiar.”
Her expression shifts slightly, a flicker of recognition in her eyes. “Ah,” she says, her tone light but guarded. “You’ve seen it?”
You don’t need her to elaborate. “Squid Game?” you ask, careful to keep your voice neutral.
“Yeah.” She shrugs, leaning casually against the wall. “That’d do it.”
There’s a beat of silence, and you scramble to fill it. “You were great in it,” you blurt out, cringing internally at how fanboy-ish you sound. “Like, really great. One of the best parts of the season.”
Her lips quirk into a smile, but there’s a hint of weariness in it. “Thanks. Appreciate that.”
You sense there’s more she’s not saying, but you don’t push. Instead, you gesture to your bed. “Uh, mind if I unpack?”
“Go for it,” she says, stepping aside.
The awkwardness lingers as you start unpacking, but you catch her glancing at you a couple of times, like she’s sizing you up. It’s weird—sharing a room with someone who’s been on your screen, who people have written essays and theories about online.
Finally, she breaks the silence. “So… what made you come on this cruise?”
You hesitate, debating how much to share. “Friends bailed,” you admit with a shrug. “Didn’t want to waste the ticket. What about you?”
She snorts, perching on the edge of her bed. “Needed a break. Too many people. Too much noise.”
“Isn’t that ironic?” you tease, surprising yourself with your boldness. “Considering, you know… you.”
Her laugh is light, genuine. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
The conversation eases after that, flowing like a gentle current. You don’t mention Squid Game again, and she doesn’t bring it up either. Instead, you talk about the ship, the itinerary, and the overly enthusiastic cruise director you’d both spotted during boarding.
But in the back of your mind, you’re still reeling. Jo Yuri, in the flesh. And somehow, you’re supposed to survive five days of sharing a cabin with her without making a complete fool of yourself.
-
You’re still reeling from the whole “roommate with a stranger” situation when Yuri suggests exploring the ship. It feels like the right thing to do—anything to avoid sitting in the cabin together, surrounded by the thick air of awkward silence.
“Uh… sure,” you say, scratching the back of your neck. “Lead the way?”
Yuri raises an eyebrow at you, her expression somewhere between amused and unimpressed. “You’re really going to make me decide everything, huh?”
“No, no, I just—uh—thought maybe you… had a plan,” you mumble, stumbling over your words.
Her lips twitch into a small smirk. “Relax, I’m not gonna bite.”
You try, you really do, but relaxing is easier said than done when you’re walking shoulder to shoulder with someone like Jo Yuri. She’s effortlessly cool, with her confident stride and casual yet chic outfit that screams “I’m too cool for this, but I’m here anyway.” Meanwhile, you feel like a bundle of frayed nerves, overthinking every step and every word.
The first stop is the promenade deck. It’s lined with shops selling overpriced souvenirs, jewellery, and random knick-knacks you definitely don’t need.
“Look at this,” Yuri says, holding up a sparkly snow globe with a tiny replica of the ship inside. “A whole fifteen dollars for something that’s going to collect dust on a shelf.”
You laugh nervously, unsure if you’re supposed to agree or argue. “Yeah, it’s, uh… it’s definitely not worth it.”
She narrows her eyes at you, clearly catching on to your awkward vibe. “You don’t talk much, do you?”
You blink, feeling your ears heat up. “I talk! I just… don’t want to say anything dumb.”
Yuri tilts her head, studying you for a moment. Then, to your surprise, she bursts out laughing. It’s not mocking—more like she finds your honesty refreshing. “You’re not as scary as you look.”
“I don’t look scary,” you protest, though your voice comes out weaker than you’d like.
“Mm, debatable,” she teases, nudging your arm.
You’re about to respond when the two of you pass by a small café on the deck. The smell of fresh pastries wafts out, and Yuri stops abruptly, sniffing the air like a cartoon character.
“Okay, we’re going in,” she declares.
Before you can protest, she grabs your wrist and pulls you inside. The cafĂŠ is cozy, with warm lighting and a display case full of pastries that look almost too good to eat. Yuri walks up to the counter, her eyes scanning the options with laser focus.
“Two croissants,” she says, turning to you. “And you’re paying.”
“What? Why?” you stammer, fumbling for your wallet.
“Because I’m cute and you’re trying to make a good first impression,” she says, deadpan, though her eyes twinkle with mischief.
You have no comeback for that, so you hand over the money and follow her to a small table by the window.
Yuri takes a bite of her croissant and lets out a satisfied hum. “Okay, I’ll admit it. This is worth the overpriced cruise food.”
You nibble on yours, trying to act casual. “Yeah, it’s, uh… not bad.”
After finishing your snacks, the two of you wander out onto the open deck. The sea stretches endlessly in every direction, the horizon blending seamlessly with the sky. The sound of waves and the salty breeze are oddly calming.
“So,” Yuri says, breaking the silence. “What’s the first thing you wanna do tomorrow?”
You glance at her, surprised she’s asking. “Uh… I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
She groans, throwing her head back dramatically. “You’re impossible.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to be polite!”
“Polite is boring,” she says with a smirk. “But fine. How about karaoke? I saw a lounge near the theatre earlier.”
You immediately feel a pit in your stomach. “Karaoke? Like… singing?”
“No, like interpretive dance,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Yes, singing. Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” you lie, though the thought of embarrassing yourself in front of her is already giving you secondhanded anxiety.
“Good,” she says, her grin widening. “Because I’m definitely dragging you tomorrow.”
-
You wake up to the sound of waves gently lapping against the ship and faint footsteps outside the cabin. It takes a moment for you to remember where you are—and who you’re sharing the space with.
Rolling over, you see Yuri still fast asleep, her face buried in the pillow and her hair a chaotic mess. It’s oddly endearing, watching her like this, but you quickly snap out of it before she wakes up and catches you staring.
Not wanting to linger in the tiny cabin, you freshen up quietly and head to the deck to catch the sunrise. You don’t expect Yuri to join you, but just as the horizon starts to blush with orange and pink, you hear her voice.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” she asks, leaning on the railing beside you, still in her oversized hoodie. Her hair is slightly more presentable now, but you notice a faint crease on her cheek from the pillow.
“Something like that,” you reply, offering her a small smile.
For a while, the two of you stand there in silence, the morning air crisp and salty. The awkwardness from yesterday lingers faintly, but it feels more like background noise now, drowned out by the tranquillity of the moment.
“I’m starving,” she finally says, breaking the quiet.
You laugh. “I think they’re serving breakfast already. Want to head down?”
She nods, and the two of you make your way to the dining hall. It’s bustling but not chaotic, and you manage to snag a table near the window. Yuri piles her plate with fruit, eggs, and enough toast to feed a small village.
“Do you always eat this much in the morning?” you tease, gesturing to her plate.
She narrows her eyes at you, mock offense dripping from her tone. “I’m stocking up for the day. Don’t judge me.”
You chuckle and take a bite of your food, the atmosphere between you two finally starting to loosen.
After breakfast, the day unfolds naturally. You both decide to explore the ship, starting with the pool deck. The sun is warm, the water glistening, and you’re surprised to find how easy it is to talk to Yuri now.
“I can’t believe how big this place is,” she says, spinning in place to take it all in.
“Yeah, it’s like a floating city,” you agree.
She grins at you. “Still down for the karaoke? I’m kind of amazing at karaoke.”
“Oh really? Amazing, huh?” you reply, raising an eyebrow.
“Don’t believe me?” she challenges, her tone playful.
“Surely someone here among us is not a singer, huh.”
The two of you continue wandering, checking out the shops, the gym, and even a small art gallery tucked away on one of the lower decks. Yuri lingers in front of a painting of a ship caught in a storm, her expression thoughtful.
“What’s on your mind?” you ask, curious.
She shrugs but doesn’t look away from the painting. “I was just thinking… it’s crazy how people used to travel like this all the time, not knowing if they’d make it.”
“That’s kind of a downer,” you joke lightly, trying to break the mood.
She laughs softly and nudges your arm. “Sorry, I get weird sometimes. Let’s go find that karaoke bar.”
By the time evening rolls around, you’re both sitting in the lounge, sipping on mocktails with tiny umbrellas in them. Yuri sips hers thoughtfully, the sunset casting a golden glow over her face.
“I’m glad I didn’t cancel this trip,” she admits, almost to herself.
You glance at her, surprised. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
She shrugs, but there’s a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “It’s not so bad having a decent person to share it with.”
For a moment, you’re caught off guard, unsure how to respond. But then you see the way her eyes crinkle slightly at the corners, and you realize she’s being genuine.
“Yeah,” you say softly, feeling the awkward tension between you two finally dissolve. “It’s not so bad.”
As the night stretches on, the ship seems to come alive with laughter and music, and you and Yuri find yourselves in the karaoke bar after all. She picks an upbeat song you don’t know but belts it out like a pro, her confidence infectious.
When she finishes, breathless and laughing, you can’t help but clap louder than anyone else in the room. She bows dramatically, blowing you a playful kiss before hopping off the stage.
“Your turn,” she says, sliding into the seat next to you.
“Oh hell no…” you protest, shaking your head.
“Too bad,” she replies, grabbing your arm and dragging you up to the stage. “We’re doing a duet. Here's a private lesson with a professional.”
And just like that, day two ends with the two of you laughing so hard you can barely breathe, the awkwardness from yesterday now nothing more than a distant memory.
-
Day three begins with a comfortable silence between you and Yuri as you both sip your morning coffee on the balcony. By now, you’ve grown accustomed to her quirks: the way she furrows her brows when she’s deep in thought, how she adds a ridiculous amount of sugar to her coffee, and how she taps her nails rhythmically on the table when she’s bored.
“You’re staring,” Yuri says without looking up from her phone, a sly smile tugging at her lips.
“Am not,” you reply quickly, turning your gaze to the horizon. The sun is already high, and the shimmering ocean stretches endlessly.
After breakfast, the ship announces its arrival at a nearby island, and Yuri excitedly suggests signing up for the snorkelling excursion. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing,” she says, practically bouncing in place.
You agree, not entirely for the snorkelling but because her enthusiasm is contagious.
The excursion is a dream. The guides take you to a secluded reef with crystal-clear waters teeming with marine life. As you put on your gear and dive in, the world beneath the waves feels magical. Schools of vibrant fish dart around coral formations, and the water is so clear you can see every detail.
At one point, Yuri taps your shoulder underwater and gestures wildly to a sea turtle gliding gracefully past. You laugh—or at least try to, but it comes out as a muffled gurgle. Yuri seems to find this hilarious, and even with her snorkel on, you can tell she’s grinning.
When you resurface, she flicks water at you playfully. “Did you see how close it was?!”
“I did,” you reply, trying to shake the water out of your hair. “But you nearly scared it off with your flailing.”
“I was pointing, not flailing,” she retorts, sticking her tongue out.
The day ends with a quiet dinner back on the ship. You both opt for a small, cozy restaurant instead of the bustling buffet. Over plates of grilled seafood and pasta, Yuri shares more about her life—her dreams, her fears, and the little things that make her who she is.
“You know,” she says, twirling her fork absentmindedly, “I didn’t expect to actually enjoy this trip. I thought it’d be awkward sharing a room with a stranger, but… it’s been nice.”
Her words catch you off guard, but you nod, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, it has.”
By day four, you and Yuri have become a dynamic duo. It’s no longer just about sharing a cabin—it’s about sharing the entire experience.
The morning starts with a group yoga class on the deck. Yuri insists on trying it, claiming it’ll be “relaxing.” You’re skeptical, especially when you realize how uncoordinated you are compared to her.
“Downward dog,” the instructor calls out.
You glance at Yuri, who’s already in perfect form, her movements graceful and fluid. Meanwhile, you’re struggling not to topple over.
“Need help?” she whispers, barely holding back her laughter.
“I’m f-fine,” you mutter through gritted teeth, your arms trembling. Don't even mention the fact that your back cracks with every slight movement.
Suffice to say, Yuri had a lot of fun holding her laugh when glancing at you.
After yoga, the two of you grab smoothies from the ship’s café and spend the rest of the morning lounging by the pool. Yuri pulls out a book she brought along, while you scroll through your phone. Every so often, she nudges you with her foot, pointing out something funny in her book or making a sarcastic comment about the poolside drama happening around you.
In the afternoon, the ship hosts a trivia competition. Yuri’s eyes light up when she hears about it, and she drags you to the event.
“You’re good at trivia, right?” she asks.
“Uhh…Define ‘good,’” you reply, already regretting your life choices.
The game is chaotic, with questions ranging from history to pop culture. Yuri surprises you with her knowledge of obscure facts—she nails the question about 18th-century composers but completely blanks when asked about the capital of Switzerland.
“It’s Zurich, right?” she whispers to you.
“No, it’s Bern,” you reply, smirking.
She glares at you, whispering back, “If you’re wrong, I’m blaming you.”
Despite a few missteps, you manage to place second. Yuri proudly dons the sailor hat prize and refuses to take it off for the rest of the day.
That evening, you attend the ship’s formal dinner. Yuri, dressed in a sleek black dress, turns heads as she walks into the dining hall. You’re about to compliment her, but she beats you to it.
“You clean up nicely,” she says, eyeing your outfit.
“So do you,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant, but the warmth in your cheeks betrays you.
The night ends with the two of you sitting on the deck, watching the stars. The silence between you is comfortable, filled with the sound of waves and the occasional laughter of other passengers.
“This trip’s going to feel too short,” Yuri says softly, her gaze fixed on the sky.
You don’t respond immediately, unsure how to put your thoughts into words. Instead, you simply sit there, hoping the moment will stretch just a little longer.
-
The final day arrives with a bittersweet air. Breakfast feels quieter, and even Yuri’s usual sarcastic remarks are softer, almost hesitant.
“We should make the most of today,” she says, her voice determined but tinged with sadness.
And so, you do.
The two of you spend the morning doing all the things you hadn’t tried yet—arcade games, mini-golf, and even a cheesy photo booth where you both don silly props for the camera.
“Smile!” Yuri says, throwing her arm around your shoulder and holding up a fake moustache.
The resulting photo is ridiculous, but it’s one you know you’ll treasure.
In the afternoon, the ship docks at another island, and you both decide to go for a casual hike along the coast. The trail is quiet, with stunning views of the ocean. At one point, Yuri stops to take a photo, the wind catching her hair just right.
“Send me that one,” you say, pretending to be casual.
“Why? Planning to frame it?” she teases, but her cheeks turn pink.
The final evening arrives too soon. The ship hosts a farewell party, and the two of you join the crowd on the deck, dancing to live music. Yuri’s laughter is infectious as she spins you around, her energy lighting up the night.
And with the ship nears the port, reality sets in. The two of you return to your cabin to pack, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words.
Finally, as you stand by the railing one last time, Yuri hands you a folded piece of paper.
“In case we don’t run into each other again,” she says, her voice quiet.
You unfold it to find her phone number.
“Yuri—”
“Don’t say anything cheesy,” she interrupts, though her smile is soft.
When the ship finally docks and you part ways, you can’t help but feel like this is only the beginning of something bigger. But for now, you're contented with the short getaway with your lucky cabinmate, already reminiscing about it as you look at her back slowly disappearing to the crowd.
And hopefully, she enjoyed your company as much as she enjoyed yours.
193 notes ¡ View notes
the-ghost-of-jason-todd ¡ 3 hours ago
Text
Interesting that you bring that up, because I think it ties into a different Jason post I made once. You don't have to read all of that, the important part is this:
i think thats my favorite thing about the red hood. he pulls people out of the abyss. he never steps entirely out of the shadows himself, but he will extend a hand to someone else, until they can get their own grip and climb past him. he did it with roy and kori, and with the random pyg minion in batman reborn, and with duela dent, and suzie su, and bunker, and ma gunn, and in a way even his own father. he does it all the time, and i love him for that.
That post is in regards to the (eventual) conclusion to the Duela Dent arc, where Jason helps her unjokerfy and go back home. Because it really is a theme we see! I don't think DC did it intentionally, especially since half of these happened during Scott Lobdell's runs and I don't think the man did anything except throw spaghetti at a wall in the hopes that it would stick, but it's become a theme. (....Scott Lobdell also had the Generation Outlaw storyline that he didn't fucking land or conclude in any satisfying way, but that's a rant for a different day).
Anyway, the point is that yeah, in some ways Jason DOES still have to choose. A lot of the storylines he has are with people who do, eventually, decide to be less morally gray. And that's just something he doesn't do. Or, if he somehow did, if he TRULY came back into the light, he would ABSOLUTELY lose the ideological purity that drove him in the UTRH era. I'm not saying it's not possible for someone to stay with him in his moral gray zone or even in his True Villain Zone, but there is actually an interesting tragedy in the fact that no one does, because it kind of highlights the point of his character--which is that he KNOWS BOTH SIDES and he CHOOSES to stay somewhere between them. He wavers sometimes in canon, moves more toward one side or the other, but so far he always returns to that gray zone, consistently, every single time.
Comics are, in a lot of ways, black and white. Questions of morality are almost always framed in what is right and what is wrong. Characters are good or bad. Things are mutually exclusive. I don't think it's impossible to find the balance, but IMO it would be much trickier to make it work, especially in canon. To find that balance and make it truly compelling would need some significant skill. We would need someone who was truly okay to live in that gray zone, but whose values wouldn't turn out to be incompatible (which is often, I think, why he and Rose don't usually work out when they're put together. Rose WOULD be that character, but I just don't think they're sustainable, generally speaking).
With that in mind, I can see why it's usually the Batfam that he returns to in search of family. He doesn't want things that are fleeting. He doesn't want "well, we can put Joker in Arkham until his next breakout", he wants the Joker DEAD. And he really doesn't want the people in his life to give up on him!! He WANTS both. NEEDS it, maybe. Even as far back as UTRH we saw this tension. Jason is holding VERY tightly to his ideals in that comic, and still he all but begs Bruce to join him so that he can have both. His origins will always be most deeply rooted in the Batfam. But maybe that brings a different sort of tension to the question--one having to do with whether a fan wants Jason to keep hold of his history, his roots, and find the permanence that Bruce promised when he took Jason in... or if they want him to give that up and forge a new future with a new family.
Jason really is, IMO, about tension. Not just in the conflict sense, though he does tend to bring tension and conflict to interactions. But thematically, his character and his arcs are filled with themes that constantly pull him in opposing directions. Even the dichotomy of the poverty he faced as a child versus the abundance of living with a millionaire is like that. In a lot of ways, canon tells us that he really just can't have everything he wants. So the question is... what does he have to give up?
i’m starting to realize there are at least two camps of jason todd fans. 
there are the ideological campers, who took under the red hood and ran with it.  the ones who believe whole-heartedly that jason todd is a character with a moral stance–counter, perhaps, to the man who raised him and the monsters that shaped him, but extant, all the same.  these people see jason shucking his ideals in canon and scoff, saying that it is a loss of integrity and a tragedy of what was good characterization. 
and then there are the emotional campers.  the ones who saw jason todd’s pain, his desire for a family who loved him enough to act as executioner.  it wasn’t an ideological purity that drove him–it was the emotional one, the familial one, and these people see jason struggling to mend bridges once burned and cheer him onward.  the ones who desperately want to see him shed his lone wolf persona and really, truly, become a part of the family.
in some sense, it ends up being a question of how faithful to the original characterization you want to be.  when jason is the villain and often when he’s the outlaw, he is antithetical to batman by nature.  he grips his pain and grief in his hands and uses it to act, same as batman, but in a diametrically opposed way.  in order to hang onto this, to keep this opposition in place, he cannot have his family.  but in order to have his family, to change from what he once became, he cannot have his ideals.
and i think it’s neat, because both of these camps want jay to succeed, you know?  but the question lies in whether they want that success to be in ‘cleansing gotham’/‘ridding the world of that which hurt him so no one else can be hurt’, so that he might save the world…
…or if they want it to be just him, reaching out a hand to someone and asking to be lifted up, so that he might save himself.
509 notes ¡ View notes
aerichives ¡ 2 days ago
Text
fwb loser!minjeong
kim minjeong x reader
synopsis. minjeong was just your awkward, inexperienced best friend until one teasing dare led to late-night hookups, stolen touches, and a secret neither of you could ever admit.
genre. friends with benefits, smut
words. 837
note. guess what... ive been writing this on class bcs of an edit on tiktok. im so down bad for winter mmmhmmhmggf
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
loser!minjeong, the friend who always got teased for having zero game. the one who got flustered just making eye contact with a pretty girl, who would stammer through the simplest interactions while your friends cackled at her misery.
"you wouldn't even know what to do with a girl if she threw herself at you," ningning said once, snickering.
minjeong scowled, ears red, grumbling into her drink. "i— i could if i wanted to."
that only made them laugh harder.
and, honestly? you believed it too. she was cute, pretty eyes, a little awkward, with a charm that made people naturally like her. but inexperience clung to her like a neon sign. she was your friend, your loser of a best friend, and the thought of her doing anything remotely sexual was funny.
until the day you caught her staring.
you had been minding your own business, scrolling through your phone, when you felt it, her eyes, stuck on you like she was in a trance.
it took you a second to register. the way her gaze lingered a little too long on your chest, the slight part of her lips, like she didn’t even realize she was doing it.
"like what you see?" you teased, snapping her out of it.
minjeong immediately choked. "i— i wasn't—"
you smirked, sitting up straighter, pressing her further just for fun. "if you're that curious, you wanna see what's under?"
you expected her to panic, to shove you playfully and change the subject but she didn’t.
she just sat there. swallowing hard. hands gripping her hoodie strings. not saying no.
something shifted.
"you serious?" you asked, voice dipping lower.
minjeong still didn’t answer, but the way she wet her lips, the nervous flicker in her eyes, it was enough.
and, well… who were you to back down from a challenge?
the first time was messy. minjeong was hesitant, unsure, hands shaking as they trailed over your skin like she was terrified of doing something wrong. but when you pulled her closer, let out the softest sigh against her lips, something in her cracked.
she kissed you deeper, pushed you down against the bed, her inexperience melting into something more raw, more desperate.
and god, the way she touched you. eager, like she needed to learn every inch of you, like she wanted to prove something. she was shy at first, but the second she had you gasping, thighs trembling as her fingers curled just right, she was hooked.
"this good?" she had whispered, watching the way your lips parted, drinking in the way you clenched around her fingers.
"fuck, minjeong… yeah, don’t stop."
her eyes darkened. and she didn’t.
what started as a joke, a dare, turned into something else entirely.
minjeong, who used to be hopeless, was now pressing you into the sheets whenever she wanted, leaving your legs weak and your voice hoarse from moaning her name. she learned quickly. obsessed over it. loved the way you squirmed when she kissed lower, the way you gasped when she buried her face between your thighs.
and somehow, you both agreed. this was nothing serious. just fun. no strings, no complications.
but then came the moment that almost ruined everything.
it was a usual night out with your friends, drinks flowing, laughter bouncing around the table. the topic turned to dating, naturally, and the teasing started again.
"i still can't believe minjeong’s never been with anyone," karina said, shaking their head. "you’d probably freeze up the second a girl took off her shirt."
minjeong, who was mid-sip, nearly choked on her drink.
you didn’t even think. just glanced at her instinctively, a small smirk tugging at your lips.
and that was a mistake.
because they saw it. the look you two exchanged.
the entire table went silent for a split second, before erupting.
"oh my god."
"no way."
"you guys aren’t—?!"
minjeong went rigid, eyes wide, looking at you like a deer in headlights. you, on the other hand, just shrugged, playing it cool, suppressing a laugh at how red her face had gotten.
"as if," you lied smoothly, rolling your eyes. "she’d probably cry if she saw a pair of tits in real life."
minjeong snapped her head toward you, shooting you a betrayed look. but she was too flustered to argue.
your friends weren’t convinced. they whispered amongst themselves, squealing like they had just uncovered the world’s greatest mystery.
and you? you just smirked, brushing your leg against minjeong’s under the table.
she sucked in a sharp breath. you knew exactly what she was thinking.
because if only they knew.
if only they knew how many times minjeong had already had you breathless, begging, shaking beneath her. if only they knew how desperate she got when she touched you, how her name sounded when you whimpered it against her lips.
but they didn’t. and they never would.
so you just sipped your drink, pretending nothing was wrong.
minjeong, on the other hand, was completely losing it.
117 notes ¡ View notes
utopiastri ¡ 1 day ago
Note
Touch starved/cuddle curse for landoscar please!!! I love your writing so much, thank you for sharing 💕
hi anon! i went for cuddle curse because i always love an excuse to write magical realism - i hope you enjoy and thank you for the prompt!!!
“So. How much longer are we trapped like this?” Lando asks
Jon checks his watch and glances at the ceiling as he does some quick mental maths. “About seven more hours? Give or take.”
Lando groans and tries to tilt his head back dramatically only to be stopped abruptly when the back of his neck hits Oscar’s arm where it's curled around his shoulders. “Sorry, mate,” he grimaces.
“It’s ok,” Oscar says quietly, “Sorry for getting us in this mess.”
“It’s not your fault. Alright, well it’s not entirely your fault anyway,” Lando amends after Oscar gives him a look.
Jon clears his throat and Lando and Oscar both turn to look. “You boys all good here for the next few hours then? I'll be right next door if you need anything – you need anything before I go?” Oscar shakes his head and mutters a small thanks, but Lando stops to think about it for a second. He opens his mouth but Jon cuts him off. “Lando, no matter how many times you ask me, I’m not letting you have a cheat meal the night before a race just because your teammate got you cursed.”
Lando huffs. Oscar winces. Jon sighs.
“Fuck off then, if you’re not even gonna let me eat anything fun,” Lando grumbles.
Jon rolls his eyes and leaves the room. With him gone, Lando and Oscar fade into an awkward silence. Or as close to silence as you can get when you’re tangled so tightly with your teammate that you can hear every breath, every sniffle, every fidget. When the curse first pulled them together they'd experimented with lying further away from each other, but it resulted in so much pain for them both that they decided it would be better to just cling to each other instead.
For the record, Lando wasn’t kidding when he said this whole thing wasn’t entirely Oscar’s fault. Yes, Oscar’s the one who impeded Charles in quali today and yes, technically, Charles is the one whose magic accidentally manifested a curse on Oscar, but it’s not Oscar’s fault that Charles has never been able to control his magic.
“Why do you think Charles’ magic wound up casting a cuddle curse of all things?” Lando asks eventually, sick of the somewhat tense silence.
Oscar mumbles something but Lando can’t quite make it out.
“Hmm?”
“I said, I think the curse is having fun with the fact that Charles was pissed off that I was so close to him on track.”
“Huh?”
Oscar huffs. “I was too close to Charles on track so now the magic says I’ve gotta be too close to you instead.”
“Oh.”
“Sorry,” Oscar mumbles after a few more moments.
“I’ve told you you don’t need to apologise. It’s fine.”
“Oh, what, because you’re having such a wonderful time right now? Being forcibly stuck to your teammate when you could be in your own bed with as much space as you want?”
“I mean it’s not…like, I mean I know I said we were ‘trapped’ when Jon was here but like, it’s not…not nice.” Lando tries not to pull a face at the trainwreck of a sentence he just came out with.
He's not lying though. There is something not not nice about being cuddled up so close to Oscar. It’s warm for one thing, comforting for another. He’s always enjoyed the rare occasions he and Oscar have hugged for longer than your typical bro hug.
It’s not not nice.
It’s, well.
It's nice.
Like. Really nice.
Oscar makes a soft noise. “You, um, this is, uh…”
“Osc?”
Oscar takes a deep breath and then somehow manages to pull the two of them closer together, nuzzling his face into the side of Lando’s neck. “This ok?” he whispers. Lando can feel his lips move against his neck as he speaks.
“Yeah,” he replies as quietly as Oscar spoke. Tentatively, prepared to pull back at any moment, he takes the hand currently plastered to the back of Oscar’s shirt and dips it underneath, resting his palm there, skin against skin. “This oka–”
“Yes,” Oscar breathes, barely letting Lando finish the question, already leaning into the touch.
Lando swallows and does his best to tug Oscar in tighter.
Maybe being stuck like this for seven hours isn’t such a bad thing.
116 notes ¡ View notes
skribbledarker ¡ 23 hours ago
Text
Back on my bs with another Zosan brainworm…. post Skypiea feels
—
Sanji, after having his “I needed a light” moment and getting shocked head-on by Enel, gains big lichtenberg scars that never fade. They’re darker than his usual skin tone, spiraling down the back of his neck, the entire expanse of his back, then curling around his shoulders and hips.
he hates them. Sanji thinks they make him look diseased, or like Frankenstein, sort of.. He doesn’t think scars are bad or ugly, no. It’s just the way they look on him.
He goes to so many lengths to hide them from the rest of the crew; he takes showers after everyone else is asleep, and his short-sleeved shirts get pushed to the back of the closet.
Chopper’s the only one who’s seen them. well, until Zoro. Somewhere in between when they didn’t like each other and when they suddenly did, the swordsman catches Sanji late at night in the bathroom, shirtless and twisting around himself to look at his back in the mirror.
Somehow, they end up on the floor, Sanji sitting cross-legged on the tile, hunched over with red tipped ears as Zoro sits behind him, taking his time tracing the patterns over Sanj’s skin.
“Do they hurt?” Zoro asks, grazing a calloused thumb over the back of Sanji’s neck.
“Sometimes. they sting when it gets cold.”
Zoro doesn’t say anything for a long time. Sanji feels like a bug under a microscope, just sitting there, being inspected like this. He finds himself zoning out— he doesn’t want to be here right now. This is embarassing.
“I like them.”
“Huh?”
And then Zoro’s hands are smoothing over Sanji’s shoulders, warm and careful like he’s handling a blade. “What, you don’t? It looks badass.”
no, they really don’t. “No. It looks…stupid.” Ugly, is what Sanji wants to say, but he doesn’t. The word suddenly seems a little too crass for whatever’s going on right now.
“Do mine, then?” Zoro counters, and that’s different. Zoro wears his like a collection, each mark a record of battles he’s won and lost and a testament to the shit he’s survived. Sanji hasn’t ever been blemished like that, barring the faint lines on the bridge of his nose still barely visible after eleven years. The scars just look out of place on him. Like they aren’t supposed to be there.
“No, no.” Sanji shakes his head. “Yours are— are badass.”
Zoro pauses again. “They look like vines.”
“Oh, so i’m sprouting greenery like you, now?”
That gets an exasperated huff out of Zoro, and Sanji can feel breath fanning over the back of his neck. “Stop, ‘m serious.”
It’s frightening, kind of, being laid bare under the watchful eye of someone else like this. Sanji can’t even see Zoro (well, besides his hands), but it’s almost like he can— the weight of his gaze falls heavy on Sanji’s back.
“Of course you are.”
A chill slides up Sanji’s spine when Zoro’s hands slide down to his waist, thumbing at the spots where the scars encroach onto his stomach. “ ‘s Pretty.”
Sanji’s throat suddenly feels dry, because the admission of pretty feels less like a descriptor of the lightning bolts spiraling down his back and more about him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Never thought I’d hear you call something ‘pretty,’ you brute.”
“Maybe you needed to.”
Maybe you needed to. Fuck, Maybe Sanji did.
—
gughhhh this was supposed to be a little drabble but got out of hand so fucking quickly??1!1?1?
anyways i want to shoot both of them dead lololololol
i also love projecting my self-image issues onto Sanji…. my blorbo AHHH
108 notes ¡ View notes
shortbcofkoffee ¡ 13 hours ago
Text
CW: Cursing, child abuse via parentification
Bruce didn’t cry. He never cried. Bruce whined and sulked, but he never cried. Tim hated it when Bruce whined and sulked. He hated when Bruce acted like a kicked puppy because he had to take care of him. Tim thinks Alfred is happy he doesn’t have to do it anymore. Bruce is well into his 40s; he shouldn’t need this. Either way, Tim is closing Bruce’s bedroom door behind him and turning to the man in bed.
“Alfred wants you to come to dinner.” Tim sits on the foot of the bed, placing a hand on Bruce’s calf. The man is facing away from him, lying down but not pretending to sleep.
“I’m fine.”
Tim sucks his teeth and furrows his brow. “What’s wrong?”
Bruce shrugs and curls into himself. 
Tim purses his lips. “C’mon, chum. You can tell me.” Tim swallows and his stomach twists. He tells himself that it feels numb on his lips. He’d says he’s long past feeling gross, disgusted with himself, as he gently runs his thumb back and forth over Bruce’s calf. Bruce needs this, he reminds himself. He needs me.
“It’s nothing, I just-... It’s nothing.”
Tim frowned, Bruce wasn’t usually one to share but still. “Is it a case?” He knew Jason had mentioned one. Something about a seemingly normal family leaving their kid with the Falcones before the parents were murdered. It wasn’t the type of thing to stress Bruce out but it was the only one Tim could think of. Bruce didn’t answer. “Okay, well, you don’t need to tell me. But let's get some food in you, yeah?”
Bruce shifted but made no attempt to get up. Tim sighed.
“Alright, chum, I’ll bring dinner to you. Just wait here.” Tim patted his leg and stood up.
“Thanks, Dad,” Bruce said as Tim reached the door.
His eye twitched. “Anytime.”
When he steps out of the dark bedroom, he’s Brother Tim, the Tim the rest of the Waynes like. He makes his way to the dining room where everyone is filing in. Luckily it wasn’t everyone tonight. Just Tim, Dick, Cass, Jason, and Damian. They all sat at the table in their unofficial spots. Tim usually sat between Bruce and Dick with Cass right across from him. He eyed his seat, thinking maybe he could ask Alfred to bring the plate. He wanted to sit down and eat. Dick raised an eyebrow as Tim passed his chair.
“You’re not gonna sit down?”
Tim shook his head. “I will in a minute, Bruce isn’t coming down so I’m bringing him food.”
Jason scoffed. “Why do you need to bring it, ask Alfred.”
God, he wanted to. “Alfred does enough, I’ll do it.”
He could feel their eyes as he quickly moved past them to the kitchen. Alfred is there, garnishing a casserole. The Butler meets his eyes and frowns.
“I assume Master Bruce has elected to stay in his room?”
Tim nods. “I’m gonna fix him a plate.”
Tim thinks Alfred knows because Alfred somehow knows everything. Maybe he doesn’t know how far it’s gone, but he knows. He also needs Tim, but not for himself like everyone else. He needs Tim for Bruce. 
Alfred hums. “Master Timothy, please come here. I want to show you something.” Tim stepped closer, watching as Alfred cut a perfect square out of his casserole. “Master Bruce has a very particular way he likes to be served. You’d do well to memorize it. All foods must be separated by one-third of an inch, vegetables should be opposite the meat. He drinks milk right after his water, if he plans to sleep right after dinner crush two valium pills and mix it well into his milk. If they’re fully dissolved he won’t notice the difference.”
Tim nodded along. God, this was so final. He already knew most of this but Alfred never took the time to actually teach him. It took the butler less than a minute to finish Bruce’s plate, he placed it on a tray with two glasses of milk and water. He handed Tim the tray and sent him on his way.
Tim felt eyes on him again as he passed back through the dining room. There’s a pang of anxiety in his chest telling him they know, they know. He doesn’t know what he’d do if they did. They’d be disgusted, disgusted with Tim for going along with this for so long. They’d think he’s a freak, that somehow he enjoys this. Tim doesn’t know how he’d handle it. 
The walk to Bruce’s room was quiet, the whole manor was quiet. Tim had mixed feelings about long, quiet halls. It meant he was alone; either for the moment or months on end. It was lonely but there was a freedom in that emptiness. He didn’t have responsibilities, he could do whatever, whenever, however. No one was watching him, he didn’t need to be anyone. Tim took a deep breath in. As long as he was in this hallway, he’d be fine. Unfortunately, he was only a few yards from Bruce’s door.
He balanced the tray in one hand and opened the door with the other.
“I’m coming in, chum.”
Bruce turned over in his bed and sat up. “What did Alfred make?”
“Hamburger casserole, broccoli, and turmeric rice. If you want dessert, though, you’ll have to come downstairs.” Tim placed the tray on Bruce’s lap. “Spend time with your kids.”
Bruce stared blankly at his food. “What’s for dessert?”
“Tiramisu, I think. Your favorite.”
Bruce nodded and started to eat. 
Tim ruffled his hair, letting Bruce lean into his touch for a moment. It’s… a lot. “Come down when you’re ready.”
Tim was two steps from the door when Bruce spoke again.
“Wait. Dad…”
Tim turned around and shifted his weight onto one leg. “What’s up, bud?”
Bruce didn’t meet his eyes and poked the food. “Recently I was made aware of… a situation.”
“Uh-huh.” Tim walked back to the bed next to Bruce.
“Jason has let me know about a development in a cold case involving the Falcones.” So he was right. “There was a child involved. I found him, he’s… traumatized. He saw them kill his parents, he told me and I just- I… He doesn’t want to leave the Falcones. He told me he loved it there, they were nice to him. And I just left him. He wouldn’t come with me, he fought so much, I left him.” 
Tim pouted. “I’m sorry that happened, bud. You think you’ll go back for him?”
Bruce leaned onto Tim’s shoulder. “Jason said he’d deal with it. I just wish I did some more. I could’ve, I can, I just. It’d be encroaching on Jason’s territory. Where they’re keeping him. I should do something. I can.”
Tim wrapped an arm around Bruce’s shoulder and scratched his scalp. It felt weird, warm. Bruce had probably washed it earlier, poorly, but at least it was washed. “Yeah, Jason has been on edge with you hasn’t he?” Bruce nodded. “It’ll be alright, bud. Jason can handle this, and besides, this case could be a lot for you. I think you should sit this one out instead of beating yourself up about it.” Tim unwrapped his arm. “Okay?”
“Alright.”
“Good. I’m gonna go eat dinner, you can come down for dessert.”
Tim finally got away, slipping off the bed and out the door. When Tim steps outside the room again and walks a few feet before leaning against the wall. He pressed his forehead against the red wallpaper and placed a hand over his stomach. He doesn’t want to touch anyone ever again. His stomach is churning with that familiar weird feeling. It’d go away soon, a few minutes to a few days, but it’d go away. This wasn’t weird. This isn’t- Bruce needs this, he needs this. As long as Bruce needed him, Tim would be there. He couldn’t just abandon Bruce. His hand gripped his shirt and he took a deep breath. He was okay. Tim stood up straight and walked back to the dining room.
He slid back into his seat next to Dick and Bruce’s empty chair. Alfred already put his plate out, just how he liked. Tim looked around the table at the subtle differences on the other’s plates. He wondered if they noticed and if this would be his life from now on, learning the specific ways he needed to care for everyone. If it’s like that he’s happy only Bruce needs him. He was prepared for a few questions, it’d be weird if he didn’t get any. Bruce’s kids would be worried about him even if they hated to admit it.
“You’ve been fussing over the old man a bit much lately,” Jason started.
“I guess,” Tim shrugged as he began to eat. Had it been more than usual lately? It felt a little less frequent. 
“Is he okay?” Dick asked.
Tim frowned. “He’s upset about a case.” He nodded at Jason. “One of yours, actually. About the kid with the Falcones. He’s eating himself up because he wants to help the kid but he doesn’t want to piss you off. I told him you could handle it.”
“Thank God,” Jason huffed. “That asshole keeps straining my alliances every time he steps foot in the alley.”
“How old is the kid? We don’t need him trying to take another kid in,” Dick joked.
That seemed to satisfy the table as they all went back to eating and their individual conversations. Mainly small talk and meaningless arguments, Tim wanted to contribute but he still felt weird. He felt awful. The food didn't settle the churning in his stomach, unfortunately, the feeling was here to stay. Begrudgingly, his thoughts wandered back to Bruce. What would he need next? When? He could feel the man’s hair on his hand still. It was warm and a little greasy from product that hadn't been washed out. Tim roughly swallowed. He didn't like this feeling. He should be grateful, if it wasn't for this he wouldn't be needed here. Of course, he was CEO of Wayne Enterprises but his professional relationships weren't fulfilling enough to replace personal ones. He needed Bruce to feel useful. Bruce needed him to feel better. It wasn’t weird. It wasn’t disgusting. Tim was okay with it.
He didn't want to finish his dinner. He didn't want to be here when Bruce came down for dessert. Oh God, he’ll probably have to put him to bed if he’s still upset after dinner. He stood with his only half-empty plate and started to the kitchen. Cass grabbed the back of his shirt and tapped him twice, asking where he was going.
“Ah, I'm done eating. Wasn’t too hungry anyway.”
Cass frowned but waved him off but Dick stopped him too. 
“Hold on, Timmy, dude, you barely ate.”
“I'm not hungry,” he reiterated. “And besides, I have a meeting with some shareholders tomorrow, I need to prepare.” A lie so quick it surprised even him. “Do you want my food?”
Before Dick could answer Damian slammed a hand on the table. “Drake! Give me your vegetables!”
Tim quickly dumped his food on Damian's plate and walked to the kitchen. Alfred was still there, preparing dessert, and to Tim’s luck, it was actually Tiramisu. So now he didn’t accidentally lie to Bruce. 
“Should I throw this out or keep the leftovers?” He asked Alfred.
The old man looked between him and the plate a few times. “You only ate one thing.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Just place it on the counter, I’ll deal with it.”
Tim muttered a thanks as he did and left. Unfortunately, always unfortunate for Tim Drake-Wayne, Bruce was there. Smiling at his kids, carrying his tray to the kitchen. Tim didn’t have to look closely at Bruce anymore. Every line crinkle was there whether he liked it or not. He could read Bruce’s face better than anyone he knew and he hated it. Bruce’s smile faltered a little when he was Tim but no one seemed to notice. It wasn’t weird , he reminded himself. He brushed past Tim with a “hey.” The interaction was short and impersonal but it didn’t make the feeling go away. Tim left the dining room. Bruce would probably go to the cave tonight, to look over whatever he’s working on. By tomorrow morning only Dick would be back in Bludhaven and Cass and Jason would be back at their apartments. Tim hoped he wouldn’t have to scold Bruce for staying up too late. 
Tim’s lungs felt light like the air was barely tickling them. He wanted to sleep, he’d set an alarm for three and if Bruce was still up he’d drag him to bed. Soon enough he was in a quiet hallway again. Just alone with no one watching. He jumped as high as possible, fingers barely touching the high ceiling. Tim liked being alone for these small bits of time when he felt like this. It gave him just a little release when he did little things with no one else around. He jumped again. He wants to go on patrol. He wants to jump from building to building and breathe in the night air. He should do it soon, tomorrow maybe.
Tim reached his room, set his alarm for three, and let himself relax into his pillow. Bruce has been better lately, this case was gonna be a huge setback, especially if it involved Jason. Tim hated to say it because it wasn’t true but every problem he had with Bruce was because of Jason. Tim knew it wasn’t fair to blame him, he had no stake in how Bruce would mourn him, but if he never died in the first place… That was so unfair. It made Tim feel disgusting for even thinking that. Bruce wasn’t entirely to blame either, no one is how they mourn. Tim took the role of caretaker quickly and easily, it was a lot, especially for a thirteen-year-old, but Tim could take it. Tim could take everything. He did and will.
Tim didn't know when he fell asleep or if he had a dream but the alarm clock on his bedside table was screaming. Tim groggily rolled over and hit it off. If Bruce wasn't in the cave Tim could go back to sleep sooner. If he was, Tim would have to drag him to bed. Bruce needed as much sleep as possible, the holidays were coming up and that always put Batman on overtime. Tim got out of bed and dragged himself over to Bruce’s room, but of course, he wasn't there. Tim groaned, dragging a hand down his face. He found his way down to the cave and followed the sound of typing to the Batcomputer. 
“It's late.” Tim came up behind Bruce.
“I'm working.”
“And you'll have time to work tomorrow. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you wake up.” He put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “C'mon let's get you to bed.” 
Bruce made no effort to move and Tim leaned on his shoulder. 
“I’ll go to bed soon.”
Tim pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Listen, bud, I’m not going to sleep until you do. And I’m tired.”
“No one is asking you to do that.”
“I know you’re tired too. You’re not at your best when you’re tired, you could slip up and miss something.”
“I won’t. I slept yesterday, I’ll be fine.”
Fair, Bruce could easily stay awake for three to four days without shutting down. Unfortunately, with the aforementioned holidays, sleep would be few and far between. “Yeah, well I’m not asking. We’re going to bed.” Tim looked up at the screen. “What are you even working on?”
“I told you. The case with the Falcone kid. I haven’t updated the report yet.”
“I thought I told you to let Jason deal with it.”
“I can help.”
“He doesn’t want your help.” 
Bruce paused his typing for a moment before resuming. “Did he tell you that?”
“I told him that I told you to let him deal with it. He didn’t thank me but he was appreciative.” Tim pulled away from Bruce’s shoulder making the man twitch. “Besides, I don’t want you working this case. It won’t be good for you.”
Bruce just grunted, an unintelligible one that meant he was acknowledging but ultimately ignoring you. It’s like a toddler throwing a quiet tantrum.
“You know I’m right. C’mon, chum, let’s go to bed,” he tried again. The man didn’t answer. “Okay?” He said with more force. Bruce silently saved the report he was working on and logged off. “Thank you. See that wasn’t so hard.”
“Sorry, Dad,” Bruce grumbled. 
“Mm-hm.” Tim held out a hand and pulled Bruce from his chair.
Bruce held onto his hand as they started to walk, he seemed like he needed it. He didn’t let go until they were halfway to his room. Bruce, for someone who craved it so much, hated physical affection. He only accepted it from certain people. Alfred was one since he raised him practically by himself. His kids, obviously, he’d never turn down a hug from one of them, he actually hoped for it. Though Tim had never personally seen it, according to others Bruce didn’t seem to mind being touched by Clark Kent. Lastly, there was Tim. Tim was the only person Bruce reached out to first for affection. Usually just a hand on his shoulder or arm but sometimes Bruce wanted a hug or a hand to hold. It was always over quicker than it happened when Bruce acted first. 
Once he got Bruce to his room it was 3:14. He could still get a good amount of sleep and still be good in the morning. He yawned as he walked the dark halls back to his room. Sleep would be good, Bruce was exhausting. TIm just wanted to melt into his pillow and disappear forever. Tim jumped, almost yelped as he turned a corner and came face to face with a mop of white and black hair. Jason stared at him quietlywith his jaw locked in anger. Neither of them spoke but Jason nodded in the direction of the library. Jason was here, why was he here? Tim hadn’t noticed him come in so it must’ve been when he was dealing with Bruce. 
Oh, God, had he seen him with Bruce? The seeing wasn’t the hard part Tim knew how to lie and deflect. He could say that he asked Bruce to hold hands. It wouldn’t explain why it looked like he was guiding Bruce but it was a start. The hearing was the bad part. If Jason had heard the end of their conversation Tim doesn’t know. An inside joke maybe? That was the only thing Tim could think of at the moment. He bit his lip nervously. The disgusting feeling was back. His hands and feet felt heavy. Tim was tired, he just wanted to sleep.
“Why are you here?” He asked nervously.
“Left my commlink in the cave. Came back to get it,” Jason said.
“Ah.”
So he was in the cave. When they entered the library Jason sat down in one of the lounge chairs and motioned for Tim to sit across from him.
“The fuck was that?” Jason started.
“What was what?”
Jason leaned forward and sighed. “Okay. Are you… okay?” He asked through gritted teeth.
The question felt weird coming from Jason. “Fine. Why?”
“I heard you talking to Bruce.”
Tim is pretty sure all the color left in his face drains. He’s pretty sure Jason noticed it too. “Oh.”
“So are you okay?”
Tim pinched his fingertip with the opposite hand. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just- just forget what you heard, okay? It’s nothing weird, just an inside joke, y’know?” Tim feels a little stupid for deflecting immediately. He could’ve played it off better, but the mental exhaustion was getting to him.
“It didn’t sound like a joke.”
Tim pinched harder, sinking his nails into his skin. “Then you misread the situation.”
Jason leaned back, splaying his arms over the back of the chair. “Alright humor me. What’s the joke then.”
“If I explained it it wouldn’t be very “inside” anymore. It’s private.”
“Kay, so how long have you and him had this private “joke.””
Tim grimaced. “Don’t make it weird.”
“I’m not. Just answer.”
Tim scoffed. “Why do you care? It’s a joke me and Bruce have, that’s it.”
“Why do I-?! Why do I care?! You know I kill abusers?”
Tim took a deep breath in and rolled his eyes. “Don’t call it abuse just because you think it’s weird. I get it, you don’t buy the joke thing but that’s all it is.”
Jason was quiet for a moment before his eyes widened. “Oh my God, is that why he listens to you? Because you have this dad thing going on?”
Tim’s stomach churned. God, he wanted to throw up. He wanted to run away and hide under his cover until this was all over. “Nothing’s going on, leave it alone.”
“Listen, I’m trying to help you.”
Jason? Help Tim? When he was the reason for this in the first place? Tim couldn’t help but smile at the irony. “Yeah right. I don’t need any help, it’s fine. If it makes you feel better, I started it, not Bruce.”
“So, what, you started calling Bruce “ chum” and shit.” Tim almost gagged. “And he just went along with it?”
“It’s complicated, okay? Bruce needs someone to deal with him.”
“Why not Alfred? That’s literally his job.”
“It’s different-”
“Is it? Alfred’s practically raised him and I don’t see Bruce calling him dad.”
“It’s different,” Tim repeated. “You weren’t there, you don’t know.”
“Okay then explain it. I’ve got all night.”
Tim clenched his jaw and glared at Jason. “I’m going to bed.” He started to stand but a throwing knife stuck into the bookshelf behind him, barely missing his head.
“Sit. Explain.”
Tim sat back down. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“When did this start?”
“Four or five years ago.”
Jason hummed. “That’s what you meant by I wasn’t there. Alright then, why is he calling you dad?”
That one was loaded. Tim wasn’t a psychic, he couldn’t read Bruce’s mind. He only had his best guess. “He likes to be parented. Talking to him like he’s a teenager sometimes helps when you need him to do something. Like shower or eat.”
“So… you act like his dad because he’s an overgrown teenager.”
“No. He only acts like that when he’s depressed, or stressed, or wasted.”
“Bruce doesn’t drink.”
“Not when you guys are around. He used to drink himself stupid after you died. That’s also why it’s me and not Alfred. Alfred was grieving too, Bruce wasn’t something he needed to deal with.” 
“So you took Alfred’s place.”
“Only when he needed it.”
“But it never stopped. You’re still doing this weird shit just to make him feel better.”
“He still needs me. I can’t abandon him.” Tim shifted uncomfortably.
“Tim, you’re 17, Bruce isn’t your responsibility.”
“He is. I need to take care of him. You don’t understand, you don’t get how bad he needs me.”
“You’re right, I don’t. He’s grown, he doesn’t need you.”
“Well he does, okay? And I’ll do it until he stops needing me.”
“Do you think of him as your son?”
Tim was silent. He didn’t like to, it made him feel gross to say it so he’d never actually verbalized it before. “It… can make it easier.”
Jason shook his head. “I don’t get you. Both of you know how fucked up this is, you kept it a secret this whole time. You’re clearly feeling shitty about it, you just never said anything. He’s not threatening you, is he?”
“He’s not threatening me, I just… He needs me. That’s all there is to it.” Tim was tired. He wanted to go to bed. “We didn’t tell anyone because we knew you would react like this. You’d think it was weird.”
“It is.”
“You’re not even making an effort to understand. You don’t get it.”
“Oh, believe me, I get it. I get all there is to get. Tim, I’m sure you know this, but I don’t like you. I think you’re a stain and you never should’ve been Robin. But I’m on your side, I’m trying to help you . Because I’m supposed to protect people like you.”
“I’m not a victim, Red Hood, I’m telling you, I’m just taking care of him.”
“You don’t need to.”
“We’re talking in circles. It’s fine if you don’t get it, just don’t tell anyone and keep it alone. Me and Bruce are fine, this has worked for years. If I left Bruce wouldn’t be able to pick himself up again. I can take care of him as long as he needs me.”
“Do you want to?”
Tim rubbed his arm. He didn’t, he liked feeling needed but he didn’t want to do this. But that’s how it was, it was how Bruce needed him. Since he couldn’t, he wouldn’t change a thing. “Yeah.” He felt disgusting.
Jason raised his hands in surrender. “Then I’ll leave it alone. But if I find out something I don’t like, I’ll act. Trust me, I will.”
Tim finally pushed himself out of the chair. “Thank you. I’m going to bed, it’s late.”
Jason stayed behind in the library leaving Tim alone in the long dark hallway. He was alone again, he exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding before his chest sank again. Oh God, someone knew. Jason knew, probably the last person Tim wanted to know. Jason had called Bruce an abuser and threatened to kill him. That’s the last thing Tim needed. He wanted to sleep, he should sleep.
.
Read the rest here and read the fic that inspired it here
48 notes ¡ View notes
blueishspace ¡ 2 days ago
Text
Hero, Villain God p57
(Prev) (Next) (First)
*Scar's pov*
Guess getting in contact with Altostratus might end up being the hardest part of the whole process. The association gave you a direct comm machine to keep in contact with the other heroes a while ago but you have never... actually used it?
It's not your fault! You never actually had to use it before! You always managed everything yourself! Or well...with Cub's help. Plus the association said to only use it when you really needed it so you always... found reasons not to waste it just in case.
...
Hmm...Your room is a mess even on good days and right now It's at least ten times worse then usual, you aren't going to ever find it are you? Not fast enough at least. Which leaves contacting the association directly as the only option, you really didn't want to do this because you know they'll ask questions and make you promise to pay them back somehow but if It's the only way you'll-
"Found it" You turn towards Cub who is holding the little communicator thingy right in his hands.
"Where did you-"
"It was in the closet, why would you even put it there? That's where one puts clothes usually."
"I... Have no idea Cub... Wait! You have no room to talk mr I have weird glowing chemical liquids in my drawer!"
He just snorts and waves his hand in the air dismissively. "Well, here you go."
You grab the little radio and nod, Cub leaves the room and you begin the call....Well, this is strangely nervewrecking, you feel like a nervous teen ordering pizza for the first time... you don't even know if he's occupied with hero work right now, maybe this is a mistake- oh he's answered!
<Hello? Hotguy? Why are you calling me?>
"Do you have a car?"
<. . . What?>
Oh yeah, probably should have uh said hi first huh. You might have gotten a bit excited. "Sorry, sorry...hi Stratus!"
<Uhh Hi Hotguy why are you calling? What do you want?>
"Do you have a car?"
<No, I heard you the first time, WHY are you asking me that?>
"Cuteguy is awake!" Wait...was he even told about that? He must have! Definitely!
<... Huh... I still don't see how me having a car relates to this?>
"I uh... Thought it would be easier to get to the clinic by car I'm not allowed to go out as Hotguy right now and the association would kill me if I used my powers to run tgere in civilian clothes...soooo I would have to walk there...under the rain"
<... Are you ser-wait one second>
You hear a noise in the background, it sounds like a somewhat familiar feminine voice? ... Wait, is that Ocean Queen? Why is she with Altostratus?
"Ocean Queen!"
<Wha- you can hear her through this? How powerful is this thing?>
He sounds upset, weird.
"I didn't know you two were working together on a case!"
<... Yes... Working together on a case, definitely what's happening... So uh, anyway, when did you need me to come by?>
"Uh...as soon as you can? Wait! Could you get Ocean Queen to come with? I'm sure Gr- Cuteguy would love to meet her"
There are a few moments of silence on the other end before you hear a stifled giggle come trough.
<You know, I think I'll be able to convince her...just give me like twenty minutes to get dressed.>
And the comm turns off, he must have cut off the call ...wait, why would he have to get dressed if he's working on a case with Ocean Queen? Wait... Are they doing undercover work? Come on! You always wanted to do that and the hero association always said no! That's not fair.
36 notes ¡ View notes
tklpilled ¡ 16 hours ago
Text
your sweet red rose
riddle likes to stick to a routine. it’s simpler that way, no surprises or unexpected turns. he knows exactly how things are supposed to be and he makes sure they stay that way. the other students are well aware of this; it's why they try to stay out of his way, although he thinks it's more out of fear of what he'll do to them, rather than actually caring about his schedule. he’s stuck to the same routine since freshman year, only tweaking it a bit once he became housewarden.
somehow, inexplicably, floyd leech has wormed his way into that strict routine.
it took some getting used to, of course. walking to his usual study corner in the library only to see the most annoying person he’s ever known wasn’t exactly pleasant, even less so when said annoying person began sneaking into his room, too. but part of what makes floyd so damn irritating is that riddle’s threats always seem to bounce off of him, and of course, he can’t do much more than threaten, considering floyd’s signature spell. so riddle is stuck with him. it isn’t consistent. floyd shows up whenever he wants. riddle has learned to stop caring so much, or else his blood pressure would constantly be skyrocketing.
riddle is in his bedroom, homework papers splayed across his bed as he works through them. floyd sits beside him, practically coiled around riddle’s body with his face nestled in the crook of his neck.
riddle doesn’t pay him any attention, now long used to his antics. at least, he doesn’t, up until there’s a warm and sharp feeling at his collarbone.
“no,” says riddle, poking floyd’s head with the tip of his pen. “you’re not biting me.”
floyd whines like a child, squeezing riddle tighter. “why not? it won’t hurt…”
“human bites can be very dangerous,” riddle says, still not looking up, “and i can’t imagine how that translates to someone like you, considering your teeth are sharper and you’re not fully human anyway. i need to be in top shape, you know.”
floyd grumbles, untangling himself from riddle’s body. “yeah, whatever.” he crawls down towards riddle’s legs, sitting on the bed next to them. he tilts his head, examining them curiously. “so weird…” he trails a finger down the back of riddle’s leg. “what's it like?”
“hm?”
“having legs.”
“...you have legs,” riddle points out, finally looking over at him.
floyd shrugs. “but they're different. they aren't as real as yours.” he runs a finger down the leg again. “so? tell me.”
goosebumps raise over riddle’s skin at the featherlight touch. “i’m really not sure what you're asking. they feel the same as yours, i’d assume. stop that.” the last part is accompanied with a tiny kick as floyd repeats the action for a third time.
“huh? goldfishie is ticklish?”
“what?” riddle stiffens up so subtly that it's barely noticeable. it wouldn’t be noticeable to anyone not watching him as closely as floyd is. “no. just stop it, i'm trying to focus.” he's trying to change the subject, but really, he knows it's useless. there's an unspoken rule when it comes to tickling, one that riddle despises; if an individual says they aren't ticklish, one must test it for themselves. plus, once something has caught floyd’s attention, there's no distracting him until he loses interest.
even so, he doesn't expect the feeling of knuckles pressing into both his sides at once. his body spasms, accidentally throwing his pen onto the floor and scattering his papers as he makes an embarrassingly loud noise. he whips his head around to glare at floyd, who simply grins back.
“d-don't do that!” riddle scolds, sitting up so he can begin to reorganise his papers. he rubs at his side to try and get rid of the lingering tingles.
“but i wanna tickle you.”
huh?! riddle freezes, feeling the familiar sensation of his face turning pink, but this time not induced by rage. he turns to look at floyd, the room growing suddenly warm. “you—! i don't want you to!”
floyd pouts. “why not?”
“b-because…!” riddle stumbles over his words. “i'm busy right now!”
“you're busy?” echoes floyd, curling back around riddle's body as he lays back down. “so i can tickle you when you're done?”
damn it. riddle squeezes the pen in his hand, pointedly looking at his paper and nowhere else. “...fine.” he regrets the words even before they leave his mouth, and floyd’s look of pure excitement does nothing to help.
as it turns out, riddle should have let floyd do what he wanted to begin with. because now he’s teasing him, just centimetres away from touching him, and it might just be worse than the tickling itself.
“you’re gettin’ all twitchy around here,” floyd says, mostly to himself, his hand hovering around riddle’s midsection. “this a bad spot?” he giggles, wiggling his fingers in the air as he approaches and stops just before touching riddle’s side. “azul’s real ticklish here too, you know. and jade—” he moves towards riddle’s neck, and the housewarden scrunches up his shoulders even though there’s nothing actually there, “right here. i wanna see how you compare to them.”
riddle doesn’t respond to any of it, though he can feel his face burning as he tries desperately to focus. it’s getting hard to remember the answers when there’s nothing but ticklish thoughts running through his mind.
it takes a few minutes longer to finish than it should.
riddle is tempted to keep going; keep writing down something, even just random scribbles, anything that will postpone his demise. at the same time, though, the anticipation is killing him. he thinks the tickling would be more bearable than this.
so he sets his pen down, sighs, and turns to look at floyd. he tries to ignore the burning under his skin.
“...i’m done.”
floyd’s reflexes are terrifyingly fast. riddle blinks and suddenly he’s face-up on his bed, floyd settled happily atop his hips. he giggles as he looks down.
“goldfishie’s cute when he blushes.”
riddle grumbles, covering his face with his hands. “just hurry and get this over with!”
he doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed about his plea before floyd’s sharp nails are scribbling all over; his neck, his stomach, his sides, and riddle is suddenly laughing harder than he remembers ever laughing before. which, quite honestly, isn’t a high bar to rise above, given that he hasn’t had much to laugh about at all throughout his life—but still.
“stop, stohohop!” he cries, head thrown back as his hands find their way to floyd’s wrists. he’s always been incredibly ticklish, and floyd is one of the last people he ever wanted to find out—but now that it’s happened, he doesn’t hate it as much as he wants to.
and he does want to hate it. this is so…unbecoming of him; as a housewarden, as valedictorian, as a subject of the queen, but…as he laughs, he feels lighter than he has in years.
floyd’s eyes are practically sparkling. “i’ve never heard ya laugh so much before!” he exclaims, scratching at riddle’s lower ribs and making him cackle, so free, so undignified. it’s too out of place.
riddle hiccups between laughs, fits of giggles spilling out uncontrollably. “ihihi—i demand you stohop thihis!” he wants to cringe at how wobbly his voice sounds.
“eh?” floyd pouts, not letting up on his attack for even a moment. “but goldfishie promised i could tickle him…are you going back on that?” as if to reprimand, he tickles a little harder, veering on the edge of painful and way too ticklish. “that’s gotta go against one of your dumb rules.”
in a normal situation, this is the part where riddle would begin to scold; the queen’s rules, however foolish they may sound, are all important and to be respected. if he could, he would; but right now, he lacks the ability to speak more than a few words without crumbling to giggles once again.
“where's goldfishie most ticklish, huh?” floyd asks, skittering his fingers up and down riddle's sides. “‘cause it looks like you're just ticklish everywhere. what about here?” he reaches to pinch above riddle’s kneecaps, and riddle squeals and kicks and laughs and not much more, because there’s not much more he can do.
“i-i don’t knohohow!” riddle confesses, hands pressed over his face to hide and muffle himself. he’s been tickled before, but only briefly. he had no way of knowing how bad it would be.
floyd barks out a laugh at this, the sound intertwining with riddle’s for a second. “you don’t know? does that mean i get to tickle you ‘til i find it?” he flashes a sharp, dangerous grin, crawling under riddle’s arms.
“no, it does nohot!” yelps riddle, arms shooting down to protect himself. “st-stop it, i cahan’t take it! plehehease!”
he’s not normally the type to beg, but this entire situation is making him desperate and his nerves feel more alight with each touch. he tries to grab at floyd’s wrists, to push him away, hoping he’ll get bored and focus on literally anything else. being floyd’s victim isn’t anything he’s not used to, but this is new and he isn’t sure how he’s supposed to handle it.
it’s not long before his grip slackens, lashes growing damp as his strength is all but sapped out of him.
it takes a while to realise that the tickling has stopped.
he blinks his eyes open, deep and heavy breaths making his chest rise and fall, interrupted by stray residual laughs. he looks up, mismatched eyes meeting his. floyd’s hands are off of him now, but he’s still situated atop riddle’s thighs, not letting him move.
floyd giggles. “you’re real fun to play with.”
riddle can almost feel the heat rushing to his already warm face. “d-don’t tell a soul about this,” he hisses, “not a single person.”
“hm? ‘course i won’t.” floyd pokes riddle’s stomach one last time, as if the ensuing squeak is the punctuation at the end of his sentence. “teasing goldfishie is my job.”
27 notes ¡ View notes
idontplaytrack ¡ 2 days ago
Note
AGH
I'm obsessed with regressed Janis so...
Regina, Janis, and the gang go out. And Janis slips and goes non-verbal so no one knows/can really tell.
Idk
:D I love you and your work so very much, you have so much skill. Truly my favorite writer ever!!!
Fade into you
Janis ‘Imi’ike x Regina George
Warnings: Regina snaps at Janis, fluff, age regression
‘Fade into you
Strange you never knew’
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hearing the crowds of rowdy students around them who were either joking or discussing their weekend plans, Janis couldn’t wait to get out of school grounds. The past week has been filled with quizzes and at home? Janis’ father has been arguing with her mom about every little thing— absolutely just picking a fight when there was no need for that. Janis detested having to go home to that…chaos. So often times, she spent her afternoons at the park or the public library, only arriving home just in time for bed. The girl truly did everything in her power to avoid interacting with her parents. Her mom was okay, well— Janis was really close to her mom. Her father was the problem: almost always having a drink in hand, treating women like they were supposed to wait on him hand and foot, like women were only supposed to be housewives and babymakers. Janis loathed him, Janis couldn’t have her own voice around him…they kind of just co-existed, with one person having no acknowledgement for the other. How’d this start? The bunsen burner incident that led to Janis being kicked out of school for the remainder of that year. Kawaika immediately saw her as malevolent. Like some evil incarnate, and actually cried and asked what happened to ‘the good little girl he raised’. From that day on, Janis decided she was done playing nice. She only tolerated him. Her mom Alohi, fought to get a separation but he never wanted to sign the papers, and claimed he didn’t want to break up a perfectly fine family. This family’s been far from fine as long as Janis could remember, but the more she cared, the sadder she became, the angrier she was. So, eventually, Janis became…numb. Nothing scared her anymore. Losing her best friend was rock bottom for the Hawaiian artist.
She sat in a corner of the library, cozy and with her art supplies spread out before her so she could continue working on her current piece. Lost in her own little world, earphones allowing her to listen to her favourite playlist, Janis was startled when she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Hey.” Regina slid into the chair next to hers. Janis smiled softly, “Hi.”
“Doing okay?” Regina asked quietly, “You left school so quick I didn’t even see where you were headed. Luckily we have your location.”
Yeah, that’s right. Regina was now her girlfriend. And has been for the last six months. They talked and worked things out, eventually admitting their feelings for each other and deciding to start dating after years of being apart.
Janis’ shoulders slouched, then she resumed working on her art. She didn’t want to look at Regina anymore, or Damian, who was standing next to the blonde. “You wanna go to the mall? Have some lunch? You barely ate anything at school today.”
Janis didn’t say anything but began to pack up her stuff. Slinging her backpack on her shoulder, she stood up and walked towards the door. Regina took the smaller girl’s hand in her own, and Damian followed close behind them both while they headed for Regina’s Jeep. No, correction— Gretchen’s BMW X5 SUV. Regina opened the door and Janis wordlessly got in. Damian got in last, after Regina did. Gretchen greeted Janis warmly, but the girl didn’t even do anything as much as a nod back. Gretchen didn’t take that to heart and just let her be. While the rest of the group chatted away, Janis tuned out the noise and drifted off to sleep. Last thing she heard was that Cady would meet them there since she was taking Aaron’s car instead.
Janis didn’t even register it, but she was then somehow in the mall’s food court with her friends, clinging onto her girlfriend’s arm while they all decided what to eat. Regina felt the weight and looked down at her side, “You okay, baby?” The blonde squinted, both puzzled and concerned. It was unusual for Janis to be this quiet, at first she thought Janis was just tired. And she was, but there seemed to be more to it…considering this level of clinginess. Janis finally responded, even though it was just a nod. “Let’s go get our food, okay? Then after that we can go look at some toys before going home?”
Janis continued following the taller girl around, their friends didn’t even bat an eye. The couple wound up sharing some Panda Express. Janis definitely did not want to talk so Regina didn’t force it…as much as she would rather have the girl be talking her ear off. This silence felt tense. Regina didn’t like it. But at least none of their friends were being annoying about it. Gretchen scooted closer to try to chat, still, Janis didn’t even join in the conversation. She had no clue what they were even chatting about now. All Janis knew was that she wanted to eat so she wasn’t hungry, look at some toys at the store and go home with Regina to cuddle.
Gretchen frowned, handing the Hawaiian a peppermint candy. Janis took it hesitantly but smiled before she returned to finishing up her food. “You guys want a ride home?” Gretchen asked.
“I’m uh, taking her to the toy store so you guys—”
Gretchen nodded in understanding, “I know. But I’m sure they don’t mind. They can take Aaron’s car home. Me and Karen will just follow along with you and Jay, drop you guys at yours after you’re done at the store.”
Regina hummed, “Okay, thanks, Gretch.”
“No problem.”
————
Their visit to the toy store was brief. Janis didn’t get anything from there, neither did she want anything. Once Gretchen had dropped them off at Regina’s, the blonde said goodbye to Karen and Gretchen before turning around to enter the house. Still, Janis remained absolutely silent.
Janis crawled under the covers immediately, Regina barely noticed the smaller girl moving around so quickly, so eager to be in the comfort of her girlfriend’s room.
“Wanna cuddle?” Regina asked, already knowing the answer would most likely be yes. Janis nodded, Regina opened up her arms and wrapped them around Janis, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.” A shaky whine fell from the smaller girl’s lips. Regina rubbed her back soothingly and tilted her chin.
“You’re okay, I promise, bubs.”
Janis chewed on her lips, brown eyes wide and glossed over, just looking into Regina’s bright blue eyes. Regina’s heart clenched as she held the girl’s face in her hand, thumb caressing her cheek. Janis gulped, trying her hardest not to burst into tears. A tear slipped anyway, and Janis hastily wiped it away.
“It’s alright, sweetie.” Regina assured, “You’re safe with me, hm?”
As Janis finally allowed herself to let go of the tears, Regina engulfed her in a hug again. Janis’ face was smushed against Regina’s chest, tears seeping into her grey sweatshirt. All Regina could do was hold her close and let her know she was there. Regina knew the week’s been exceptionally difficult. Both in school and at home, Janis was also due to get her period in about a week. So all things considered, Regina couldn’t say she wasn’t expecting something like this to happen. She was simply glad that the girl now had a safe place to destress, and heal, or cope.
Sometimes, Regina was filled with guilt. Knowing she likely had a part to play in Janis’ regression. But she was also relieved in a way, age regression was a much safer coping mechanism than many others out there. Still, Regina knew Janis self-loathed and isolated until she couldn’t take it. Then…this happens. Janis would reach her limit and revert to a younger state. One where she was young enough to not have gone through any of the bad things, any of the trauma.
Sometimes, like these ones, they had a specific routine. Janis would cry it out then they’ll continue snuggling. After that, Janis would fall asleep to one of her favourite movies in the safety of Regina’s arms. Other days were…easier. Janis was happy and simply wanted to play. There’ve been times were Janis cried so hard she’d get a coughing fit, gagging and all. That made Regina feel the worse because Janis would be inconsolable, but Janis didn’t really know how else to express it other than cry.
“Do you wanna watch a movie?” Regina asked once Janis’d stopped crying.
“No.” Janis blubbered, voice still shaky and muffled since her face was still buried in the taller girl’s side.
“Okay, that’s okay.” Regina said softly, “What do you want?”
Janis only cried harder and buried her face deeper. Regina shushed her and continued the soothing motions of her hand up and down Janis’ back. Eventually, Janis fell asleep for a bit, and woke up asking for a snack. Regina took her downstairs to the kitchen, allowing Janis to pick what she wanted to eat and drink. Janis happily took the mini pack of chocolate chip cookies and a juice box from Regina then plopped on the living room couch to eat. Regina smiled in relief, quickly joining her and turning the TV on, putting on Tinkerbell.
Now, the silence was comfortable. So, Regina allowed herself to be less on alert but still stayed focused and present. In case Janis needed her help grabbing anything, or if she wanted to shower.
“…’m okay.”
“I know, my love.” Regina smooched her on the head again, “I know.”
“…thank you, Reggie.”
“Always, little one.” Regina chuckled, “I love you.”
Janis giggled, “Love you too.”
“How about some hot cocoa?”
Janis gasped, “Oooh. Yes, please!”
“Alrighty, let’s go make some. Then we can watch some more TV.”
Tumblr media
🏷️Tag list:
@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128
24 notes ¡ View notes
shatcey ¡ 2 days ago
Text
You combine everything so neatly. I love it.
I just wanna say that I have the impression that the EN and JP teams are in constant contact. I don't have any solid proofs, but sometimes it feels like the jokes, concerns, and ideas of our English community somehow reaches to the Japanese team. Maybe it's just a coincidence, or maybe the JP team is keeping an eye on us. Or maybe I'm just paranoid. But that's the impression I have.
And following that logic, this damn dramatic level directly comes from what we should expect from his route (I think it will be even more). If you only read the EN game, you wouldn't expect this from Victor. He gives the impression of an air-head with too much energy, positivity, and a constant present smile. There wasn't much event with him yet, and seeing that level of drama in him is pretty hard at this point. But… if you also read the JP's events… It wouldn't be that surprising.
And for those of you who are worried about the low romance level… I decided to combine the other guys' TGIFs from the same game so you can understand my logic. They are all from the English X/Twitter Cybird (the developer, not just the game).
As usual, I talk too much, so I'll hide the rest.
The first three boys: Liam, Harry and Will
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I… strongly disagree with the romantic level on the Harry's diagram. His route doesn't give that vibe at all. I haven't read his POV stories, only two endings epilogue, and I DO KNOW he loves Kate very much. But… the route itself and the usual Harry makes it quite difficult to notice.
The same with William. Even if he makes very romantic moves and spoils Kate endlessly, it is still quite difficult to see his emotions. And I like him very much, I don’t think his way of hiding emotions is something bad. It’s simply who he is. It’s just hard to notice, it’s really really hard. And the man himself doesn’t give such a vibe at first glance. Maybe they tell us how much is hidden in him…
...
...
I need to rethink my previous words.
...
...
I take back my previous words. They ARE contain a lot of love.
In that case, I disagree with Liam's diagram. There's so much love in that kid, it's enough to drown in.
Next two: Elbie and Ally
Tumblr media Tumblr media
And again… from what possition we evaluate them? If it's from someone who doesn't know them very well… yeah, that's true. But if you dig deeper… it's not as it seems. If they're talking about their routes… then maybe. But again… I don't see much flirting from Ally… humor… yeah… but he's not Shingen, who flirts non-stop.
And for comparison
Tumblr media
Who dares to say that Kenshin has no romance??? He decorated her… cage… and… brought her to a beautiful field and night. I know his route just wasn't focused on it. But that doesn't mean it's not there at all!!!
So my point is that it's very difficult to have a single opinion on this. It's all quite personal.
And I can't say we have a very low romance level in Victor's diagram (look at poor Kenny). So… nothing to worry about.
Judging by the previous TGIFs… They were supposed to give us Ellis… His route should be next. They can't give him next month because they're changing the games… When are they going to give us Ellis??? Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to see Vivi's diagram. But I feel offended on Ellis' behalf.
Tumblr media
*Points aggressively at the romance score*
I'm overwhelmed with the need to ramble over this 'cause I feel like this is deeply routed in Victor's pre-route behavior.
We are thirsty and starved for this man. Pre-route Victor embodies slow burn and edging. To point out a difference between him and another suitor: pre-route Ellis has already fingered us twice whereas we just got a friendship kiss on our forehead from Victor. As much as I complain about the edging and slow burn, they are some of my favorites tropes and I love that they get applied to Victor. Partially it's given to him because he's a gentleman, but there is more.
It seems to me that Victor thinks he can't allow himself to want Kate like that even though he is attracted to her. An instance of Victor distancing himself from Kate is in his POV of the mirror event. He suggests that the two could hug every morning to which Kate responds that her heart couldn't take it. Victor agrees and thinks to himself it's better to not get too close. Another instance is that in the epilogue of the Wrecked The Halls event, Victor thinks they shouldn't be more than the Queen's Aide and the fairytalekeeper.
Distance. That's an important element in Victor's pre-route events which will undoubtly so be present in his route as well. There is something that forces Victor to think Kate and he shouldn't get too close. But despite of that, he still wants her.
This is a spoiler for his first future CE card but in it, he allows himself a few minutes to do what his heart desires despite saying he was just teaching Kate something. In that moment of doing what he wants, Victor places multiple kisses on Kate's shoulder and neck. He's saying her name like it's a secret love that shouldn't be. Afterwards, he tells Will that even if he had feelings for Kate, he has nothing to offer because he belongs to the queen.
In my opinion, Victor hasn't been given many opportunities to be romantic. He doesn't give himself the opportunity to be too obvious with his feelings for Kate. He cannot permit himself for whatever reason to see Kate as someone he can and should romance. But naturally, he's a very doting person and his attraction to her slips through in some of his actions and words.
So I believe once we have entered the girlfriend zone, Victor will be finally free to show that romantic side of him a lot more. I'm not sure how much content the EN devs already have because I'm not sure how much ahead Cybird writes, but I think the devs made an accurate scale with how we have seen Vic act so far, though I think he's actively holding his romantic side back.
41 notes ¡ View notes
meep-meep-richie ¡ 5 months ago
Text
i might never finish this but i thought the start was cute
62 notes ¡ View notes
namelessprince ¡ 6 months ago
Text
undersea arc. undersea arc. when. undersea arc when.
#my post#please. please. please. on my hands and knees BEGGINGGGG#maybe if gill didnt get donjon'd theydve gone#bcus it was like. that was when they were like 'its too dangerous out here we need to get ollie home Now.'#but if theyd just gone to the feywild. put on a funny show. fought the doctor. and then gone back to liquidis?#ollie wouldve gone 'just oneee more adventure pleaseee :( pleaseeeeeee :(' and chip wouldve caved and well. well. opens the map.#yeah the undersea capitol is actually pretty close to liquidis#they couldve gone. they couldve gone#I NEED THINGS TO BE NOT DIRE. I NEED THINGS TO BE SILLY AGAIN#although if they go to the undersea its automatically going to be dire anyways.#goddd i want an undersea arc i want gillion to see the REAL elders again#yknow how in ep 53 chip and gill sorta stood in the back and shouted encouragement to jay but ultimately let her handle the situation when#it came to her dad. i think confronting the elders will go much the same way#guh. god i want them to go to the undersea i luterally think about this all the fucking time#going to warn the elders about the navy and the black sea spreading and the nameless prince.#wwhat if gill could show them the room he grew up in. what if they go there and its bare empty. what if they scrubbed all evidence gill eve#existed.#alternate also evil version. what if they somehow ran into gills parents. and he doesnt recognize them but they recognize him#more because of the coral crown than anything else#guh. idk man i just desperately want them to go to the undersea
24 notes ¡ View notes
moeblob ¡ 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
A succubus and a demon! (The succubi don't have names but the demon is Kronos and the succubus is one of his bosses in Hell and he's not /fond/ of the succubi for many reasons but they all adore picking on him)
Also because I love them and like to point it out, the succubi act more as pleasure dealers in the sense of they offer up whatever a human wants most in exchange for their soul. It's rarely of a sexual nature since it's what they want MOST in life. And most people's ambitions are outside of a bedroom. (happy pride, asexuals are able to get affected by a succubus now without discrimination)
#my characters#did i make succubi in a plot that i could fall victim to as an asexual personally? yeah#kronos is just a petty lil baby with a younger brother who is very nice for a demon#kronos is responsible for being a dick to everyone in the plot and yet has the weirdest morals and its not fine#but hes gonna make that everyone elses problem not his#for instance he originally goes to earth bc a human has somehow just stolen all of the Devils attention and its annoying#why fixate on one human doomed to Hell just let the guy live and die then fixate#so he goes to kill the human but ends up saving the guy and then agonizes because even as a demon#its REALLY tacky to save someone and then kill them#so he doesnt kill him and instead demands to be a roommate until he returns to hell#and then they team up to kill demons and other creatures that seem obsessed with the human#and so they just kinda kill and banish demons back to hell and its fiiiine kronos is just causing problems for Hell#thats not even a new issue hes always doing that !#and then they meet a siren who refuses to talk and kronos is like oh time to be the biggest dick ever#and is like well if she wont talk and she needs a name i vote halibut#as a mean joke bc why would she want to be named after a fish#and she lights up and is SUPER happy and nods and beams and is so happy with her new name#and then the human is like well she needs more clothes than one outfit right#also shes barefoot and its cold i need to buy her shoes idk what tho#and kronos is like here buy her these rainboots and so the guy buys them and is like just wear these#until you can show me what you want bought ok and halibut is in love with her cute lil yellow rainboots#so basically everything kronos does out of spite to the weird mute siren (by choice) backfires#and she adores him and doesnt know hes trying to be mean to her#anyway the succubi collectively like to pick on the really silly and childish demons they outrank#like kronos! so he is constantly a target for them to mock which is why he isnt fond of them which fuels them more#the succubi are just really chill most of the time though ?#and its just. i love my succubi ok theyre wonderful#and that has been another story time in the tags bye
33 notes ¡ View notes
tackrusso ¡ 7 months ago
Text
show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw
#please ignore the rest of the tags i will just be making things up#okay they start out in carolina but at least half the episode takes place in dc. do not ask me how travel logistics would work#tory spends the entire episode off with tempe doing bone stuff. booth feels upstaged by a 16-year-old girl#so he goes and hangs out with ben who does NOT trust him right off the bat#ben ends up having to run him over to liri at some point because there's crime afoot and tom is busy. they spend most of the ride in silenc#ofc they end up bonding Eventually because they are both obsessed with crazy emotionally stunted redheads named t brennan#tory is more effective than any of the squinterns and manages to piss hodgins off so bad just by existing#coop hangs out in the lab as saroyan tries to kick him out thirty times. he just keeps showing up and she can't prove who's letting him in#(it's tempe.) angela loves tory but tory does not love angela back. saroyan tolerates her. sweets likes her but knows she's hiding somethin#comes to the conclusion that she can read her friends minds and slowly drives himself crazy because obviously that can't be true#tory brings hi along whenever she needs someone with people skills and he is MORE than happy to participate in a hodgins experiment#hi gets to be king of the lab for about ten minutes. shelton hits it off with angela immediately and they solve half the case together#booth fucking HATES hi because he's evasive and really good at the manipulation thing. booth can't win verbal sparring and he gets Big Mad#at one point the four of them are in an interrogation room together (MISTAKE) because tory had them meddling a little too close to the sun#and booth is trying so hard to question them which didn't work even when they COULDN'T read each other's minds#tory figures out who did it and hi steals her thunder a la shrek wasnt vandalized he gave birth#temperance tells tory 'i know you've got a secret sweets told me and even though i don't trust psychology i find he's insightful' etc etc#tory's like well i might be but i can't tell you it's not just my secret and you wouldn't believe me anyway#because let's be real tempe WOULDNT believe her#meanwhile saroyan convinced by sweets paranoia managed to get a sample of tory's blood and test it and is like HEY WHAT THE FUCK#gets hodgins and they just stare at the results together and delve into conspiracy theories. he's like i KNEW there were werewolves#they debate telling tempe but know it wouldnt end well for the kids and decide to get rid of the evidence. but hodgins is SO smug#also angela spends the whole episode trying to convince everyone hi and shelton are dating and no one believes her#they finally see them kiss or something and they're all somehow floored and angela's just like yeah? duh?#if anyone read this i'm sorry and why
8 notes ¡ View notes