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thetriumphantpanda · 7 months

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I'll Crawl Home To Her | Marcus Pike

Fic Summary | Marcus Pike had been the man of your dreams until a promotion tore your away from him. Four years later, a wedding brings you back together, but it the bubble you've built over this one weekend going to crash and burn just like it did before?

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Bridesmaid F!Reader

Fic Warnings | Explicit. Exes to Lovers, themes of second chance love, references to food and alcohol, descriptions of a wedding, Marcus Pike being a dirty talking menace, talk of contraception, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, semi-public sex, oral sex (F), overstimulation if you squint, allusions to oral sex (M) and mentions of a facial cumshot, mutual pining, flirting, two idiots in love, a touch of angst, basically two idiots who never got over each other have a lot of sex over a weekend.

Word Count | 7.9K (I can only apologise lmfao)

Authors Note | So, two weekends ago I was a bridesmaid and spent the entire time messaging @undercoverpena about how I wished Marcus Pike would whisk me away to the bathroom, tell me how pretty I was and give me a good time.... and this is what's come of this. Entirely self-indulgent but we love that for me sometimes. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting or reblogging - I'd love to know what you think of it! And if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

Moodboard is for aesthetic purposes only - reader is a blank slate. Although if you're interested in the dress I chose for her - it's this.

Divider by the amazing @saradika

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Marcus is still out of breath as he clutches the champagne flute in his hand, chest heaving as his sucks in air to his lungs, “I didn’t mean to be so late.”

“Marcus, buddy, it’s fine,” His friend puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he knows Marcus gets anxious when things outside of his control happen, like the delay to his flight from D.C. to London, and then the delay in getting from London to the wedding venue, “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”

Marcus nods, chugging down half the champagne in one go, hoping it’ll calm his anxiety a little. He had cursed Mike and Cassie for choosing to have their wedding in England, but Mike’s family, most of them ageing now and unable to make the long trip to D.C. had insisted on it. As he looks around the large reception room, he muses internally to himself that it was beautiful. A huge room, semi-decorated for tomorrow’s reception and dinner. It’s a smaller affair tonight, immediate family and friends for the rehearsal dinner, but he can imagine that tomorrow, once all is said and done, it’ll be the perfect backdrop for their wedding.

“Where’s Cassie?” Marcus asks, looking around the room, finding a distinct lack of the bride and the bridal party Mike hadn’t shut up about over the last few months.

“She’s just sorting the last of the decorations for the ceremony room,” Mike explains, waving a hand to the waitress currently doing the round with a refilled tray of champagne, “She’ll be here soon.” He finished with a wink, which, although is odd, Marcus doesn’t question, just picks up another glass of champagne and stands talking to his friend and whoever is milling around offering their congratulations.

There’s a flurry of conversation that has Marcus turning around a few minutes later, he can see Cassie and her mother, who are pulled to the side by someone from the venue holding up two different types of ribbon, asking which one they want to drape around the columns and which one to tie around the chair backs. It’s not Cassie that Marcus is interested in though, it’s the bridesmaid that follows behind her.

He can feel his throat constrict, a small pit opening in his stomach that’s somewhere between the feeling of dread and excitement. He can feel the palms of his hands starting to get clammy, so he drains his glass and sets it down on the nearest table to avoid an accident. Then, he thinks he might actually pass out when you finally look at him, eyes searching his face and then the glimmer of recognition that you know exactly who he is, remember exactly the last time you’d seen him, and exactly what had happened when you had.

Your leg is bouncing underneath the dining table, food somewhat eaten regardless of the fact that it’s your favourite. You’ve dug half-moon shapes into the palms of your hands and bitten the inside of your mouth enough to taste blood.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” It’s Marcus, sitting across from you, plate cleared, completely oblivious as to what’s about to come.

“I got offered a promotion.” You tell him simply, running one hand up and down your opposite arm in an attempt to soothe yourself.

“Darling!” He exclaims, “That’s amazing!” He doesn’t move to get up, but reaches his hand out, palm up for you to take, which you do, letting his hand softly clasp yours in his own, “Why are you so upset then?”

Taking a deep breath in, biting your bottom lip, you decide it’s best to rip the band-aid off sooner rather than later, “It’s not here, Marcus,” You sigh, “The job is in D.C.”

The smile, the light of his eyes, everything on his face that had just seconds ago been showing joy, had faltered. Much like you imagine your face would have when you’d been offered the job. A significant pay rise, governmental opportunities, bigger clients, a shot at being a proper lawyer for once, but with the caveat that you had to uproot your comfortable Austin life for D.C. and with it, Marcus Pike.

“I don’t have to go,” You follow up with, “I haven’t accepted yet, I’ve got some time to think.”

You feel him squeeze your hand, his other palm coming out to rest on your wrist, slowly tracing the blue veins he can see there, “Look at me,” He asks softly, which you do, the tears that had been forming in your own eyes starting to spill down your cheeks when you find Marcus’ eyes glassed over too, “Baby, this is such an amazing opportunity, you can’t say no because of me.”

Because that’s what you would be doing. Marcus, brilliant, funny, intelligent Marcus, wouldn’t be able to follow you to D.C. There had been some talk about his work in the Art Crimes team with the higher ups, people who were impressed at his success rate, people who wanted to keep him here, send him off to California even. He was at too much of a crossroads to be able to follow you to D.C.

“I don’t want to lose you though,” You sniff, free hand coming to wipe away some of the tears that are falling from your eyes, “I love you.”

Marcus hums, finally pushes himself off his chair, letting the legs scrape across his kitchen floor, until he’s sat right in front of you, knees touching, his palms on the tops of your thighs, warm and soothing, “I love you too,” He says, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek, making sure you’re looking at him, “But this is what you’ve wanted, you’ve been working so hard baby and I’m not going to let you stay here just because of me.”

It’s killing you inside, because you want so badly to ask him to follow you. To drop everything and come to D.C. You’ve been together two years, you’re comfortable together, he makes you so happy, you’ve talked about moving in together, starting a life together, but you know deep down you’re asking him to do something unfair.

“So, I guess your stance on long-distance relationships hasn’t changed?” You ask, tone soft and sad, tears falling down your cheeks.

You watch him as his own tears fall, his hands clutching your own so tightly as he gives you a soft smile, “Baby, I wish I could say yes, I wish I could drop it all and follow you, or promise you we’d talk on the phone every day and see each other every weekend, but you know we can’t do it.”

Biting at your lip, you nod, because you know he’s right. You’re a lawyer, you barely have free time as it is - weekends more often than not spent sat on the couch with him, tapping away at your laptop whilst he looks over case files. It would never work.

Marcus leans forward, presses a kiss to your forehead, then pulls you into a hug. You clutch your hands to his back, inhaling the smell of him on his shirt , watching the light blue turn darker as it catches your tears.

“When do you go?” He asks quietly into the crook of your neck, soft kiss placed to the skin right after.

“A few weeks, probably.”

“Well, let’s enjoy them while we still can, hey?” You nod silently, “And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

“And maybe one day, we’ll find each other again.”

Those words still echo in your ears four year later, like they have at various different points since you last saw Marcus Pike. Leaving had been hard. He’d helped you pack everything up, driven you to the airport, kissed you before security and promised he wouldn’t forget you. You’d text a for a few weeks before life dragged you in one direction and him in another. No-one had quite been able to live up to him either. Sure, you’d tried dating, seen people for a few months before deciding they weren’t quite the man who had almost been able to give you everything you ever wanted.

And now here he is, standing in front of you, pale as a ghost as if he’s about to keel over and have a heart attack. You want to run to him, to fling yourself into his arms and make sure he’s real. You want to press your lips to his, let him kiss you like he always used to, to clutch you to his body and whisper sweet things into your ear, but you have no idea what he’s been doing these past four years - for all you know, you could get closer and find a wedding band across his left finger.

It’s a blessing when Cassie’s hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you over to the side.

“Do you prefer the dusky rose or the blush pink?” She asks, holding up two ribbons that look identical to your eye.

You want to tell her does it really matter, they both look exactly the same. You want to tear your wrist away from her and go to Marcus, but instead you settle for a warm smile and “It’s your wedding Cass, you choose what you want.”

And when you turn around, looking back over to Mike, Marcus Pike is nowhere to be found. Like he was a mirage. A figment of your hopeful imagination. Something conjured up after your mother had set you down at the airport and said, “Bridesmaid’s always get lucky at weddings, you might find your own husband.”

When everyone is called to sit down for the rehearsal dinner, you jump at the opportunity to let Cassie sit down and eat, whilst you get pulled away by the staff to advise on which candles to use for the ceremony room and where exactly to place the flower arch for the best photos tomorrow. When you make it back, everyone is standing, milling around, getting drinks from the bar, which you decide you desperately need.

“A negroni, please.” You ask for after taking a few seconds to peruse the cocktail menu set out. The stronger the better.

“I see your tastes haven’t changed in the last few years.”

You’re pretty sure that if there was a mirror in front of you, the look of shock on your face would be comical, as Marcus Pike sidles up to the bar next to you. Up close, he’s just as handsome as he always had been, except now, he’s got a beard and more fine lines in the corners of his eyes, which means he’s been happy, smiling, whilst you’ve been gone. It makes your heart swell that he’s been happy.

“I wonder if yours have.” You counter, tilting your head towards the bartender who is waiting for him to order.

“Just a beer for now.” He smiles, but at you, not the bartender.

“That’ll be a no then.”

There’s a moment of silence between the both of you as you sip the cocktail given to you, and Marcus takes a swig of his beer. His left hand is wrapped around the bottle, no sign of the wedding ring you were convinced you’d find. You want to say something, anything, but when you go to open your mouth, he beats you to it.

“You look well.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Of all the things he could have chosen to say to you, you hadn't thought it would be that.

“So do you.” You compliment back.

There’s another silence, the two of you just looking at each other. You’re soaking him up, committing him to memory to replace the old Marcus you knew so well.

“Are you here alone?” You ask, playing with the glass in your hand.

You watch as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, “Are you?”

“I asked you first, Agent Pike.”

He tilts his head towards his shoulder in a movement that says he’ll give you that one, “I’m here alone.”

You can’t help but smile a little, biting at your bottom lip to try and hide how pleased you are, “So am I.”

Looking up at him through your lashes, you notice the exact moment those brown eyes that you’re so used to getting lost in darken, watching you as you sip your drink, tip of your tongue jutting out to catch a drop from your bottom lip.

“Is your room completely over the top?” You ask, watching as he swallows deeply, “Because mine is, I’d love to know what the honeymoon suite must be like.”

“Depends what you mean by completely over the top?” He quirks an eyebrow.

“Do you want me to show you?”

He doesn’t even respond. He sets his half-finished beer down on the bar, takes your almost-empty negroni from your hand and does the same. Then he’s taking hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together like he always did, dragging you out of the room. You turn to find Cassie and Mike, looking at you both as you have to jog to keep up with Marcus’ pace. Both of them are winking, smiling, and Mike even throws a thumbs up your way. You can feel heat rising on your cheeks as you turn your head away from them.

“Which floor?” Marcus asks then you reach the grand staircase in the lobby.

“Second.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand, but takes the stairs two at a time, meaning by the time you reach the second floor, you’re out of breath from running behind him, trying to keep up.

“Which room?”

It’s your turn to lead him now, stepping in front of him to walk down the hallway to room 212. You fish the keycard from the back pocket of your jeans, wasting no time in pushing the door open when the tiny light turns green.

It’s dark inside, but you don’t care. Marcus Pike pins you against the wall, his thigh between your legs, both hands on your waist, and then his lips are on yours. The way he kisses hasn’t changed a bit. His mouth slants over yours, softly at first, but when you open your lips against his, hands clutching at the collar of his shirt, it’s just like you remember from all those years ago. He tastes the same, mint from the gum he always chews, the tang of the beer on his tongue, and that distinct taste that’s just him.

He swallows a groan from you as your pitch your hips down, denim rubbing on denim as he devours your mouth. His hands on your waist trail down just a little, finding the top of your jeans, floating under your shirt just a little to touch the bare skin underneath. His hands are warm and strong as they start guiding you to move against his thigh as his tongue works against yours.

Marcus pulls away from your mouth just as a particularly breathy moan leaves your mouth. It makes you both stop. Stand still. Eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room as you both realise exactly what’s happening. You know you should stop, talk about what’s clearly about to happen, but when did talking ever help anything.

“Don’t think about it,” Marcus sighs, leaning down to trail kisses along your jaw, “We talk after.”

“We talk after.” You say, mainly to the room more than anything else.

Your hands are still clutching at his shirt when his fingers find the button on your jeans. Still as adept at it as he’d always been, he pops the button open and pulls down the zipper, letting his hand trail down, settling across the lace of your underwear, cupping your pussy, letting his fingers trace along skin through lace.

A hiss leaves your mouth as you work your body in time with the slow, teasing movements of Marcus’ hand, “You’ve changed,” You manage to breathe out, your hand coming to the back of his neck to pull his mouth nearer to yours, “When you were desperate for me you’d never tease.”

You can feel his lips smile against the skin of your neck where he’s tracing wet kisses along the skin, hand still feather-light between your legs, “I’ve learnt to be more patient, honey.”

“And if I asked you not to?”

“In all the years I knew you, never once did you beg for it.” He pulls back, your eyes now accustomed to the dark, able to see him better, his voice is low, “Unless you’ve changed, you’ll have to put up with it.”

You grasp his cheeks in your palms, his hand still teasing you, pull his attention to you fully, “Marcus Pike, I swear to all that is holy that if you do not spread me out on my bed and fuck me in the next five minutes, I will die.”

He makes a ‘tsk’ sound, his head shaking in your hands, “That’s not begging for it honey,” He coos, “You gotta ask nicely for it.”

You let out a grumble of frustration, but you have to admit, this new version of the man you knew so well before is enticing. You can feel the way wetness is settling between your thighs, you’re sure if he dipped his fingers down he’d have some smart comment about how soaked you were for him already.

So you swallow your pride, you know it’ll be worth it in the end, “Please.”

“Good girl.”

It all happens in a flurry. One moment you’re against the wall, the next your back is against the mattress, Marcus’ hips pressed to yours as his hands work to push your shirt up and off your body. Your back hits the mattress again and his mouth is on you almost instantly, his lips trailing down your sternum, between the valley of your breasts. Pushing himself back on his knees, he brings his hands to the cups of your bra, pulling them down. Your nipples pebbling against the cold of the air.

His lips are back on you almost immediately, nipple enveloped into the warmth of his mouth, tip of his tongue flicking at it, making your back arch off the bed, pressing further into his mouth. Your hand comes to tangle in the curls at the back of his head, anchoring him to your body. As his mouth works across your chest, you can’t quite believe what’s happening to you. The man of your dreams, the person you always thought you were destined for, back, right here between your thighs, the bulge in the front of his jeans all too familiar to you.

Head tipped back in pleasure, you breathe out into the air, “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He tears off your breast with a wet pop, looking up at you through his lashes, mouth kissing down your body, across the soft of your tummy, he taps at your sides, lifting your hips up to drag your jeans and underwear down your legs, flung behind him and forgotten when you plant the flat of your feet onto the bed and let your knees fall open.

Marcus isn’t a religious man, he never has been, but knelt between your thighs, hands flying to rid himself of his clothes, watching as you gingerly trail your hand between your thighs, eyes on him as you play with your clit, he thinks he might have to start believing. As he stands to take the last of his clothes off, standing at the foot of the bed, naked with his cock in his hand, watching your face, he thanks the Lord for whatever mischief they had to concoct to get you back here with him.

He crawls back up your body, kissing from ankle to thigh, settling himself between your thighs, cock sliding through your slick folds as he lays his body down against yours, one of his hands slipping under your neck, cradling the back of your head, the other cupping your cheek, moving your face to look right into his eyes. He’s so fucking close to you, lips barely a hairs breadth from your own.

“I have to be inside you,” He pants against your mouth, “I promise I'll spend hours between your thighs later baby, but I have to be inside you.”

He doesn’t give you any time to respond, just shifts his hips a little, sinking himself into your aching cunt. You arch up into him, moaning against his mouth as he stills. The hand clutching at your cheek trails down your neck, thumb flicking against your nipple as it travels to rest on your hip.

“Stop squirming,” He pleads, “Please.. Just stay still a minute.”

He feels so right, nestled inside your pussy. The weight of his body pressed against yours takes you right back to all the nights before, locked away in his Austin apartment in the dead of night, making each other feel good, making promises at the height of your combined pleasure to each other that never materialised. You can feel tears settle in your eyes as he starts moving, pulling himself out of you slowly, pushing back in even slower.

Marcus leans down, kissing the salty tears from your cheeks, shushing you, “Don’t cry baby,” He whispers into your ear, “I’ve got you now.”

Your hands are clutching at his shoulders, nails digging small, half-moon shapes into his skin there. He feels just as incredible moving inside you as he always did, but there’s something settling in your tummy, the feeling that you knew so well with him, that you’ve only really known with yourself since.

“I can feel you baby,” Marcus groans into your ear as the thrusts of his cock get a little faster, a little harder, “Clenching all perfectly around me,” He takes hold of one of your wrists, dragging it between the both of you, resting it right where you need it, “I won’t last baby,” He admits, “Touch yourself and we’ll do it together?”

So you do, you rub tight, precise circles over your clit as Marcus pushes himself up, takes your thighs in his palms, pushing your legs back as far as he can. The change in angle makes you cry out as he really starts fucking you now. The only sounds in the room are the slapping of his skin against yours, your whimpers and his groans. You can feel the tightening coil across your abdomen, breath hitching in your throat, you’re so fucking close to coming undone on him.

“Marcus,” You whine, “I’m gonna-” You trail off as he shifts a little more, pressing your legs further back, cock hitting that unholy sweet spot inside you, “Gonna come.”

“Go on baby,” He encourages, “I’ll be right behind you.”

And that’s how it ends. Eyes shut so tightly you can feel tears pooling at the corners, cunt clenching around his cock as you cry out his name. It’s so familiar, the way it feels, the way he sounds, like no time has passed at all and you’re exactly the same as you’d both been four years ago. He’s pounding into you as your body convulses underneath, thighs shaking and toes curling as his hips start to stutter.

“Where?” He manages to choke out, his tone reminiscent of all those times before when he was holding on, teetering on the edge, wanting to know what you wanted.

“I’m s-safe,” You manage to choke out, head reeling from your own orgasm, “The pill.”

He doesn’t need to hear anymore, finally giving in, knowing you’ve fallen apart for him, he’s groaning your name into the dark, you can feel him spilling into you, claiming you, marking you as his own in a way only the two of you could ever understand. He lets go of your thighs, letting your legs drop back into comfort as he slowly drags himself from you, collapsing onto the bed next to you.

There’s a few moments of silence. Your arm is draped across your face, chest rising and falling as you try to suck in enough air to calm your breathing, Marcus doing the same across the bed. You roll over, putting yourself on your side so you can look at him. He’s led on his back, head turned to look at you in the dull light of the room - the moonlight through the window the only thing illuminating the two of you. He reaches out, traces your face with his hand.

“I can't believe you’re real.” He speaks softly, rolling over to face you, pulling your warm body to his.

“I know we said we’d talk after,” You whisper, hand trailing over his waist to rest across his back, “But can we just stay like this for a while?” It’s a soft plead, you don’t want to be reminded that this was probably a bad idea, you want to hold this man in front of you and forget that in a few short days it’ll all be over, he’ll go back to wherever he is now, and you’ll go back to D.C. lonelier than ever.

“I’ll stay here as long as you’ll let me, honey.”

Marcus, against his better judgement, stays with you all night. You don’t talk. You curl up into his side, settle against his body as he wraps his arms around you. It’s inevitable that he casts his mind back to how things used to be. To the history you share with each other. He still, to this day, hasn’t stopped thinking about you, about what would have been if you’d stayed. Would you be married? Probably, he thinks. He’d thought of it often towards the end, before your promotion. Stopped outside jewellery shops, tried to imagine which kind of ring you’d want – he’d even slipped one of your rings onto his own finger, figuring out where it stopped so he could pick the right size when the time came. Would you have children? He isn’t sure, neither of you had ever spoken about it, you’d never expressed a want to have them, but he’s certain if you’d have asked, he’d have given them to you.

He falls asleep, waking up hours later, darkness still pervading. He turns on his side, spooning his front to your back. You’re half-awake when you press yourself back into him, bring your hand up to clutch at his head as he slips inside you once more, his hand holding your thigh up. He breathes into your ear, whispers filth to you as he rocks his hips against you. When you feel his teeth trail over your shoulder, he chuckles when you tell him off.

“I can’t walk down the aisle with bruises on my shoulders, Marcus.”

It’s soft, and he tips you over the edge, feeling you clench around him as his fingers trace circles over your clit, following just behind you, filling you up once more. He doesn’t pull away from you, just settles your thigh back down, resting himself inside of you as you both fall back to sleep.

Then, he’s awake before your alarm. He wakes you with a kiss to your forehead, tells you to go back to sleep when you protest and try and coax him back to the warmth of your sheets. He has to shower he says, has to help Mike get ready, but he’ll be waiting for you, watching you all day. Marcus smiles, really smiles, when you curl over back onto your side, soft breaths and mumbles as you fall back to sleep, and as he walks to his own room and stands waiting for the shower to warm, there’s a feeling of content that spreads through him – should he have fucked you last night? Probably not. Should he have encouraged you to talk more? Probably yes. He knows he’s got his cards hidden, he’s not letting on that this might not have to just exist here, but he’ll keep that to himself for just a little longer.

“So,” Cassie smirks from her place in the make-up chair, artist flitting around her, pressing all number of products into her face, “You and the groomsman?”

“Shut up,” You mutter to her, trying not to scratch at your face, make-up already settling uncomfortably across your skin, “A momentary lapse of judgement.”

She hums, and then moves her focus back to the make-up artist who is tilting her face to put on some blush, “You don’t have to lie to me, you know,” She says to you as you pass her a mimosa, “I know that was Marcus. The Marcus.”

There’s a moment where you feel like a deer in headlights, like you’ve been caught being up to no good, even though you know that’s not the case. Then you turn slowly to her, eyebrow raised, and see her smirking, much to the chagrin of the make-up artist who urgently wants to get her lipstick on her so she can move onto the final bridesmaid.

“He’s Mike’s friend, they went to school together, see each other quite often these days – apparently he always talks about a girl from Austin, no-one could ever compare, he’s tried moving on, done this, done that, but always came back to thinking about the one who got away,” She stops talking to take a drink, “Which sounded oddly familiar to someone else I know.”

She’s not wrong really – Cassie had been a lifeline when you’d moved to D.C. a work colleague turned best friend, who has been the shoulder to cry on whenever dates had gone badly, or even when they’d been good, but you just couldn’t get Marcus Pike off your brain. She told you, like most good friends would, that it would take time, you’d find someone right for you, someone who would take your mind right off Marcus, but it never happened.

“You did this on purpose!” You accuse, but its friendly, because really, her and her soon-to-be husband have only done what you had always wanted to do yourself, pick up the phone, no matter how long it has been and tell the man you still loved him.

“Of course we did,” She chuckles, “Don’t think about it too much,” She adds, “Just enjoy this today and most of all, behave yourself.”

When Cassie walks down the aisle, it’s not her that Marcus is looking at – it’s you. He hadn’t thought it possible for him to find you more beautiful than he had before, but in your dark green dress, slit cut into the fabric to show off one of your legs as you walk, dress cut perfectly to sit on all the curves of your body that he always did love, he can’t deny you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He spends the entire ceremony making eyes at you, smirking when you meet his gaze. He wants to tell you how lovely you look, lean down and plant a kiss to your lips in front of everyone, but he doesn’t get a chance until cocktail hour, once you’ve had your pictures taken and Cassie has insisted on you finally having a drink and enjoying your day instead of flapping about whether she needs anything from you.

“Has anyone told you how beautiful you look today?” He asks, hand settling on your waist as you lean against the bar waiting for your drink.

“Funnily enough, it’s not me most people have been looking at.” You quip back, taking the margarita from the bartender when it’s handed to you.

“I’ve been looking at you.”

“I know,” You smirk, “Pretty sure I ruined my panties stood at the top of the aisle.”

“Because the ceremony moved you so much?”

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about your face between my thighs, actually.”

He looks exactly like he always used to when you flirt with him like this. Eyes low and dark, mouth slightly ajar like he can’t quite believe you’ve just been so forward. He’s not thinking straight anymore, and much like he had done last night, he grips around your wrist and starts dragging you from the reception room, this time there are considerably more people so you manage to slip out unnoticed.

Instead of heading up the stairs, taking you to your room or his, he turns left down a hallway, tearing open the door to one of the bathrooms. It’s a single stall, lock clicking behind him. You press your back against the wall, setting your drink down on the sink.

Marcus takes three steps towards you, hand slipping around your waist, pulling you flush against his body, lips so close that you can feel his breath on your skin.

“Do you know how sinful you’ve looked all day?” He asks, “Walking around looking all innocent, but I know you’ve been begging to get fucked all day, haven’t you?” You whine at him in response, trying to chase his mouth as he pulls back, “Don’t think I didn’t see you rubbing your thighs together during the ceremony.”

“It’s only because you wouldn’t stop looking at me.”

His hand finds the skin of your thigh, the slit of your dress making it easy for him to trail up to the hem of your panties.

“If I put my fingers on you,” He breathes, “Will you be wet?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You cock your head to the side, biting your lip as you look at him, his hand pulling your panties to the side, thick fingers slipping between your folds.

“Baby,” He moans, finally taking your bottom lip between his, nipping your skin with his teeth a little before he pulls away, fingers slipping inside you, pulling a groan from your throat, “Soaked for me?”

“Always, Marcus.”

He drags his fingers from you, spins you around, and reaches down to bring your palms up to rest against the wall in front you. He puts his hands on your hips, dragging your ass backwards until you can feel him through his trousers. His hands shuck your dress up to your waist and instead of tearing your panties off, he pushes them to the side. You look over your shoulder at him, as much as you can, and watch as he undoes his belt, pulls the zipper of his trousers down and reaches in, pulling his cock out. His trousers are pushed down just enough to let him free himself, and you don’t think you’ve seen such a beautiful sight in your life, than Marcus Pike with his fist around his cock, running his hand up and down himself as he moves to nudge the head of his cock at your soaked core.

Unlike last night, he isn’t gentle when he pushes into you. He’s buried inside your cunt in seconds, setting a pace that punches the air from your lungs. You know that even though you’re locked in here, away from the party, there’s still every chance someone is going to walk past, try the door handle, and hear exactly what’s going on in here, so you’re trying your best to keep the noise to a minimum.

“Needed you so badly, baby,” Marcus chokes out behind you, hands gripping your hips hard enough that you’re sure you’ll have his fingerprints embedded onto your skin, “Always so pretty for me, aren’t you?”

He’s hitting that sweet spot inside you, over and over again, and you have to bite your lip to keep yourself from crying out. You feel one of his hands trail up your spine through the material of your dress, coming to rest with a grip around the nape of your neck, his fingers itching to slide up into your hair and grip it.

“You can’t,” You plead, “Don’t mess my hair up.”

“I won’t baby.” He pants out from behind you, trailing his hand down just a little so he’s not tempted to take a fistful of it to pull you back, arch you into him even more.

It’s fast and it’s hard, everything Marcus never really used to be. He liked to take his time, spread you out and have you crying for him before he slipped inside you, slowly, watching every contort of pleasure on your face. You think you like this new version of him, the one so desperate to have you he couldn’t make it up the stairs, couldn’t even pull your panties down your legs.

“Marcus,” You moan out, “Please.”

“What’s that, baby?” He asked, mouth right by your ear, “You begging for something?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“What do you want?”

“Make me come?”

You think maybe he might try and tease you some more, but mercifully he takes the hand he’s got resting on your hip and snakes it down your body, letting his fingers find your clit - he had always been good at that. He drags the gathered slick where he can, cock still moving into you, pulling whimpers and moans whenever you feel his skin slap against yours, circles your clit quickly with the pad of his finger. You can feel your walls tightening around him, your thighs starting to shake as he continues doing exactly what he’s doing.

It’s no secret to either of you that making you come always took time. He’d never shamed you for it, always been more than happy to do whatever it took, for as long as it took, to get you there. But the mix of desperation for him, elation that he’s waltzed right back into your life, and the fact he’s fucking you in a public bathroom, have that coil tightening inside you quicker than ever.

“Can feel you getting tight around me baby,” He groans into your ear, “You gonna let go for me?”

You don’t have time to tell him yes. The tight coil snaps inside you, your eyes closed so tightly you’re sure the make-up around your eyes is dragging down your cheeks on tears. You can keep your voice down now as you flutter around his cock, you cry out his name, feeling his hands holding onto your hips to keep you steady as your legs threaten to fall out from underneath you.

You’re only half aware of him speaking into your ear, telling you he’s close. You can feel him start to pull himself out of you, so you reach behind you quickly, fingernails digging into the part of his thigh you can reach to keep him inside you.

“I swear to god if you get cum on my dress Pike, I’ll kill you.”

He lets out a deep, throaty chuckle behind you, slams himself back into you, “You just want an excuse for me to come inside you, don’t you?” He hisses into your ear, teeth nipping at the skin behind your ear, “You just have to ask nicely for it.”

“Please, Marcus, please.”

Never one to deny you, he does, having held out as long as he could, he thrusts once, twice and then he’s moaning your name into your ear. You can feel him spilling inside of you, filling you up, then you can feel him dripping down your thigh when Marcus starts pulling away from you, not quite quick enough to put your panties back on. He tells you to keep still, fumbling behind him for some paper he can use to clean your thighs up.

He speaks to you as he lets the material of your dress fall back down over your legs, “Walking around full of me for the rest of the night.” He coos as you turn around, reaching out to pull his mouth to yours in a chaste kiss.

You stay like that for a moment, both attempting to fix the others clothes. Marcus brings his thumb to his mouth, letting his tongue jut out to wet it, before he drags it under your eye, getting rid of the worst of the black marks he’s caused.

You reach behind him, unlock the door, but take hold of his hand as you push the door open. Thankfully there’s no-one waiting outside to use the bathroom as you drag him back down towards the party.

It’s late. Or early depending on how you look at it. Marcus had dragged you from the dance floor at midnight, walked you slowly up to his room instead of yours. He’d helped you out of your dress, let you shower and wash yourself clean, then, before you could put your robe on and insist on going to sleep, he’d taken your hand, led you to the chair near the balcony doors and he’d made good on his promise of last night to spend hours with his face between your legs.

“I can’t,” You whine, Marcus hand’s pinning your legs open, his tongue flicking against your clit, “It’s too much.”

He pulls off you just enough to speak, “Believe in yourself baby,” He says, sinking two fingers into you, curling them upwards, “I know you can, just one more for me.”

Your whole body feels like its on fire. You’ve lost count of the amount of times he’s made you come tonight. There had been a small reprieve when you’d begged to suck his cock, Marcus obliging, painting your face and your tongue, before he settled right back to his knees. It’s almost as if he thinks if he stops you’ll disappear.

Your fingers are tangled in his hair, battling between tugging his face closer and pulling it away as he sucks your clit into his mouth, the added pressure along with the flicking of his tongue setting your skin on fire even more than before. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the back of your neck, rivulets of sweat gathering at various points across your body as Marcus tips you over the edge once more.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, body feeling boneless as your whole body convulses at his touch. Almost like he knows, he pulls himself away from you gently, knowing that any more would be too much, saving you the need to beg him to stop. He presses soft kisses to the skin of your tummy, kissing up your body until he’s sitting up on his knees, kissing into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on him.

Marcus clambers to his feet, takes hold of your hand and pulls you to your feet, guiding you over to the bed to settle you under the sheets, the air peppering your sweaty skin with goosebumps. It’s a sad realisation that you have to go home tomorrow, that the bubble you’ve caught yourself up in over the past few days is about to burst. You think this might break your heart even more than the first time around.

“What are we going to do?” You ask against the skin of his chest as he pulls you into him.

“What do you mean?” He asks back, kiss pressed lightly to your forehead.

“With us, after this?” Your fingers are tracing over his skin, trying to map the feeling of him before he leaves.

“Well, I thought maybe we could go for dinner sometime?”

You look up at him, face contorted in confusion, “You’re going to come all the way from Austin to take me for dinner?”

“No baby,” He chuckles a little, “I don’t live in Austin anymore, I live in D.C.”

You push yourself up in bed, one hand on the mattress to keep yourself upright, looking down at Marcus, who reaches up to cup your cheek in his hand, thumb rubbing soft lines across your skin, “Since when?”

“Two years?” He offers, “I would have-” He trails off a little, “I would have told you but I wasn’t in a great place when I first moved, had no idea what your life would have even looked like either, I didn’t just want to turn up out of the blue if you’d moved on, found someone else.”

Your hand comes up to clutch at the wrist of the arm cradling your face, “I’ve waited so long for you,” You sigh, “I tried, tried to find someone else, but none of them were ever you Marcus.”

“I tried too,” He admits, because Lord knows he did, and for what? “I promise I’ll tell you everything one day, but right now, I want to fall asleep with you right here.”

You settle back down in bed, curling up against his side, arm draped over his waist, “Where in the city do you live?” You ask, sleep starting to make your eyes heavy.

“I’m on 4th street, in Petworth.”

You can’t help but laugh, because of course he fucking does. Marcus Pike has been living four streets over from you for the past two fucking years.

“You’ve been living four streets over from me for two years, Marcus.”

He runs his hands up and down your spine, gently, soothing you, “Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?” He asks softly, “I can be at your front door in five minutes.”

“You want to be my booty call, Marcus Pike?”

“If that’s what you want,” He speaks, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

“What are you doing Wednesday night?”

“Nothing, as far as I’m aware.”

“How about you take me on a first date?” You offer, “Let’s learn each other all over again and take things from there?”

Marcus colts your chin up to his face with a finger, leaning down and giving you the softest kiss you think you’ve ever received, “I would love nothing more.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike Smut #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x you #marcus pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x F!reader #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #the mentalist #the mental illness is winning #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #Pedro pascal #marcus pike fluff #Marcus Pike angst #Marcus Pike Pedro Pascal #Marcus Pike The mentalist

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fangirl-dot-com · 7 months

Text

Chapter 9 - Life is a Highway

Well FP1 was a shit show. I’m so sad and angry for what happened with Carlos. Because of this, I will be writing as though the red flag didn’t happen and reader gets to do the full practice. There will be a short update chapter after the race on Sunday. I’m going to start regular chapter updates instead of doing chapters when anything happens in real life. So the augmented 2024 season will start before 2024 actually starts. And don’t forget to let me know if you want to be tagged and/or you aren’t getting updates! Enjoy <;3

You could feel everything as you closed your eyes.

The hum of the car as it rattled to life. It breathed. You breathed.

The wire on your cheek as it dug into your skin, ready to use to talk to Mitch. But not yet.

The roughness of the gloves on your fingertips met the juxtaposition of the smooth steering wheel. The buttons ready to be pushed to activate the controls on the car. But not yet.

The squish of your face was trapped by the padding of the helmet. Hair tickled your neck from where it sat in ponytail, ready to fly around your shoulders as the wind picked up with acceleration. But not yet.

Your feet itched to press into the pedals, confined by the tight shoes on your feet. But not yet.

The tube sat comfortably on your lips, begging you to take a sip. But not yet.

You blinked. Everything came back into focus.

Looking up, Christian was looking down at you. He said something, but it was muffled. You shot a thumbs up to him, hoping that would be a good enough answer. He pat your sparkly helmet and walked away.

You would be driving after Lando. Max would be let out first, followed by Charles, then Lando, and then you. The screen on your car reflected harshly off your eyes. You wished you could put your visor down.

You looked over, and through the little gaps, saw Max, looking focused as ever. You wished he’d turn to at least look at you. But he never did. You sighed and looked back to the screen in front. You hadn’t spoken in a while, you just couldn’t get the words out.

What you didn’t see was Christian and Mitch, looking at you from the wall.

“She’s quiet,” Mitch mused. “She was happy and bubbly all night, and now she’s quiet.”

Christian just looked at your helmet, that hardly moved an inch since you got into the car. He’d think that you’d be head bobbing side to side in excitement. He suddenly stood straighter, not leaning on the wall, and walked over to Max’s car. He tapped the top of his helmet, getting Max’s attention.

“Everything all right Christian?”

“It’s the kid.” He pointed at you, who was currently looking down, visor shut. Max thought it was weird. Were you taking a nap?

“What’s the matter?” His Dutch accent heavy with concern.

“She’s quiet.”

Max wanted to get out to check on you, but there were only five minutes to go before the practice started.

“Is her radio connected?” Christian nodded. “Then patch me through.”

You had decided to close your visor, so people wouldn’t see the panic in your eyes. What if you messed up? Crashed. Broke the car. Impeded on someone. Get a penalty for Checo. Hit another driver.

You were so stuck in your head that you missed the call of a familiar voice.

“-id. Kid. You have to listen to me.” Your head shot up and looked over at the number 1 car. Max waved and pointed to his helmet, trying to get you to listen.

“I’m listening.” Your first words since you entered the car almost thirty minutes ago.

“Are you ok?”

“I feel like my stomach is in my throat,” you answered honestly.

Max hummed. “You know what I like to do to calm down when I get nervous.”

You scoffed. “You? Nervous? I didn’t think that those two things could even be in the same sentence.”

You could practically hear the roll of Max’s eyes. “Yes, everyone get’s nervous. Don’t tell him I told you but Lando almost peed his pants his first time.”

“He did not.” You let out a little laugh, calming down one moment at a time.

“He did. He’ll blame it on a water leak though.”

“Ok fine. What does the great Max Verstappen do to calm down.” You knew that the minutes were draining the more you talked.

He was quiet before he spoke, “I like to hum the Dutch anthem.” You could not help the laugh that bubbled from your mouth.

“You do not!” you giggled, “tell me that this is a joke!” You were tearing up from laughing so hard.

On the wall, Mitch and Christian listened in to your conversation with their big headphones, laughing silently at the Dutchman’s confession.

Once you calmed down, Max spoke again, “You should try it with a song that you like. I’m about to go out, but you have some time before you follow Lando. You’re gonna do great kid.”

“Thanks Max.” You watched him drive out into the pit lane and disappear around the corner. You pressed your radio button for Mitch.

“Hey Mitch, can you play a song for me?”

“I’m already on it kid.”

The car breathed. You breathed.

The crowd listened as the familiar voice of David Croft picks up.

“So we have the current world champion leading this practice, followed by Charles Leclerc. Once the Dutchman and Monegasque are on their flying laps, Lando Norris will be let loose, and he is followed by brand new reserve rookie driver Y/n L/n.”

Another host speaks up, “This will be her first time driving with the big boys. I wonder if she can keep up.”

David continues, “Well, if you look at the stats, she has shown that she can keep up. Red Bull released her practice lap time for their track, and she was able to beat our very own Max Verstappen’s practice time. And – what is that on her radio?”

The producers tuned in and opened your radio for everyone to hear.

“Is that the song from Cars?”

You were mumbling as you drove around, heating the tires. “Life’s like a road that you travel on,” you turned on one of the various corners, “When there’s one day here,” you moved out of Max’s way, “and the next day gone.”

With each lyric, you were feeling more comfortable. Mitch’s smile did not go away as she held her phone up to the headset. The song was now blasting throughout the garages.

Logan had taken his helmet to listen in for a moment. He found himself mouthing the words as well with a huge smile. New best friend?

Once the song ended, you were much more comfortable in the car. You hit the radio button. “Thank you Mitch.”

“Anything for you kid. Now let’s bring you in, go over some data, then set a lap time. Right now Leclerc is at 1 minute, thirty-five point 265 seconds.”

“Copy, I’m headed in now. The turn is a bit hard to handle though to enter the pit,” you mentioned.

“We’ll go over that.”

You pulled your car parallel to the garage and were carefully lifted and rolled back. You raised your visor so that you could see the screen better. This time around, you were much more talkative and vocal about how you were feeling. From to your right, without your knowledge, Max was looking at you with a big smile. Your hands were flying everywhere as you talked to one of the mechanics, who was softly nodding along to whatever you were saying.

You were put out on soft tires with a few more minutes to go. If you were going to take fastest lap, it would be now.

Once again, you headed out, Max this time was on your tail. You knew your tires. Max watched you go another two laps.

He pushed his radio button to talk to GP. “What is she doing?” he questioned, surprised that you hadn’t taken your flying lap yet. Almost all of the cars were done: it was just the two of you left.

“Checking.” Max was worried that you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. But you did. You always knew.

“GP?” Max said again.

From the commentators box, David spoke up. “Seems like the rookie is taking a leisure drive up the straight.”

The same producer followed, “She’s on softs but isn’t using them fresh? Does she know what she’s doing.”

GP finally answered, “I talked to her strategist. She just told me to tell you to go around her and start you lap. She will finish behind you.”

Max wanted to argue, but didn’t. He quickly passed you, starting his flying lap. When he was rolled into the garage, you finally told the team that you were going to go for it. Max by then had stepped out of the car and was given a set of headphones.

He was enthralled by the way that you sent the car flying down the straight, much faster than he had. The screen showed that every corner that you turned had been maximized. Under the first two sections, a green negative number showed how quickly you were going, much faster than Charles had.

By now, everyone’s eyes were on you, and you didn’t have a clue.

You breathed. The car breathed.

Everyone else was holding their breath as you made you way down the final straight.

David could be heard, “And there she goes down the main straight. Is she going to make it?” Your car zoomed over the finish line and everyone’s head turned to see your finishing time.

“AND THAT IS ONE MINUTE AND THRITY FOUR POINT 000 SECONDS FOR Y/N L/N! A FULL SECOND AND SOME FASTER THAN THE FERRARI!”

Cheers from the Red Bull garage erupted at the news. Everyone could tell though that Max and Christian were the most proud. You, however, were still in the car, unaware of what just happened.

You pulled up the garage and were immediately swarmed with mechanics and personelle alike. You clamored out of the car and were given multiple pats on the helmet, just like it had been when you won your championship.

You took off your helmet, followed by your balaclava. Your hair stuck to your forehead as you walked back into the garage. You were handed a giant Red Bull can with an even bigger straw. You were excited to drink from it though. Just as you were about to take a sip, hands landed on your shoulders, turning you around.

You were brought into a giant hug by none other than Max Verstappen.

“Uh, Max. I love you and all, but what’s all this?” He looked at you with a puzzled face.

“Kid,” he breathed, “you just made the fastest lap yet. A full second and some faster than the Ferrari.”

“Oh.” You were dumbstruck. Max just laughed at your silence and brought you into another hug.

After the hug, you were congratulated by a couple more people. Mitch had given you a giant hug, followed by Christian.

When the Brit brought you into his arms, he whispered, “I’m glad I made the right decision kid.” You kinda teared up at that point, but you didn’t let them fall. You still had after race interviews to get through.

Max gently took you by the arm, gave you your change of clothes, and pushed you towards the bathroom. He muttered something about hurrying up so you could be interviewed together. You peeled off your race suit, then your fireproofs. You were thankful for the change of clothes. Max must have grabbed the wrong size, because the hoodie was definitely three sizes too big. You were drowning in the soft fabric. Oh well.

Max was looking at his phone when you emerged from the makeshift driver room. It was really Max’s since you didn’t have one yet.

When you walked out, all of the reporters who had been talking to other drivers, were suddenly all around you and Max. A few of them shouted questions at you, but you were too stunned to speak.

Max quickly took some of the questions as you were trying to grasp what was happening. Your eyes met warm brown ones. You gave the lady a quick nod, wanting to hear her questions.

“That was some lap Y/n. How were you feeling?” You gulped.

“Nervous” was all you were able to get out. But somehow, that got everyone laughing. Max had turned around to talk to Charles.

“We noticed that you had a nice sound track with you in the car. Would you like to tell us about that?”

“Uh, I really like the movie cars,” you stated. Like in the car, talking about the things you like got you comfortable the fastest. “I grew up on the movie. Lightning McQueen was always my favorite.” You paused and looked back at Max and Charles. You smirked and you knew that they saw it. “Yeah, he reminds me of a certain driver.”

The same woman spoke up, “And who would that be?”

You only pointed behind you as you started laughing.

“Me?”

“Him?”

You only giggled. “Lightning is a red car. Charles drives for a red team. It all makes sense.” You shrugged your shoulders. “If Max grew a mustache, he could be Chick, but he’s not green. If anyone that would be Fernando maybe? Christian is definitely Doc. Oh wait, Max would definitely be Mater. Cause,” you pointed at the two starstruck drivers, “they’re besties.”

Max scoffed and Charles gave a small laugh, so did the reporters. The rest of the interviews went well.

“Yeah, I’m just very thankful for this opportunity, and I can’t wait to drive for 2024. It’s going to be an amazing experience.”

With that, you were done with the interviews. You walked back to where Christian was and gave him a big hug and let out a sigh. He rubbed your back.

“I’m so proud of you kid.” Your tears finally trickled down your face. All you ever wanted to do was make people proud. You let out a yawn as you turned from Christian. There were still a couple of hours before the second practice, but you were determined to stay for everything. You took a pair of headphones off the wall and rewatched the other drivers. You saw Carlos narrowly miss a giant piece of metal in the middle of the track. You were glad that he didn’t hit that. It would have scraped the entirety of the bottom of his car.

Logan had come back up to you as you walked around, trying to get tired.

“Dude, I’m glad I’m not the only one who loves the Car movies. Alex makes fun of me for it.” You gaped at him.

“Excuse me?” you all but yelled, earning some looks. “Ok, but you have to agree, Cars 2 is the best one. The first one is there for nostalgia, and the third one never happened.”

“Oh my gosh I know. The second one is so good.”

You looked around. “I have my phone, with Disney plus. Want to watch a bit with me?” Logan nodded as the two of you found a corner with a chair to watch the movie. It was an hour before anyone found you. Surprisingly, Oscar had come over as well, and you found yourself sandwiched between the two 2023 rookies on one chair.

When Lewis came on screen, Oscar yelled, “Lewis has his own Car character!?”

“I know, it’s not fair.” You pouted.

It was comical to see the three of you, smushed on a chair, eyes trained on a screen. Sadly the three of you weren’t able to finish it, but you quickly promised that you would finish it at some point.

It was time for the rest of the drivers to get back into their cars. This time, Checo was back in his own seat. Your eyes were stinging but you wanted to stay awake. You knew you could do it.

You couldn’t.

You had sworn that you were just going to take a quick nap, but by the time someone came to get you, you were out. The mechanic who found you called Christian over and left after. Christian quickly pulled out his phone to take a picture before putting an extra Red Bull jacket over you as a blanket.

When Max got out of the car, he was surprised when he didn’t see you at the garage wall. His eyes flickered around the garage, before spotting you curled up by some extra tires. It was five a.m. by the time that he was ready to leave to head back to the hotel. He quickly unzipped the race suit and grabbed extra clothes to change into. All that was on his mind was getting back to the hotel for a few hours of sleep before he had to do it all over again. He rubbed a hand over his face as he walked out of his driver room.

Saying multiple quick goodbyes, he walked over to you. Looking down, he realized he didn’t know how to wake someone up. He kneeled to be eye level before lightly shaking your shoulder.

“Kleintje,” he whispered in his native tongue. He remember his mother saying it every time she had to wake him up (translation: little one).

Your eyes fluttered at the gentle motion. You startled and shot up straight, narrowly missing Max’s face. You looked at him confused.

“Why aren’t you in the car? Is there a red flag?” Your eyes darted around the garage, looking for some indicator as to why Max was crouched in front of you instead of driving around the circuit.

“Kid, it’s time to go back to the hotel.” You pouted.

“I wanted to watch the practice though.”

“You didn’t miss anything, so don’t worry about it. But, I would like to leave and Christian told me to take you back to the hotel, so let’s go.” He held out a hand for you to take. Using some leverage, he was able to pull you up from where you were sleeping.

You barely made it to the car, yawning every so often. With your backpack, you took out a blanket before getting into the car. Max immediately put on the heat so that the two of you could warm up from the cold desert air.

“Care to share?” he questioned with a laugh as he saw you snuggle into your blanket. You glared at him before turning towards the window. That made him laugh even more as he rolled out of the parking space.

Thankfully Christian knew what he was doing by booking hotel less than ten minutes away. Looking over, Max saw that you had fallen back to sleep. When he pulled up to a red light, he got his phone out of his pocket and took a picture.

The light turned green and off he went, careful not to jerk you around the corners. Once the two of you got to the hotel, Max woke you back up. The valet was able to park the car for him as he guided you to the front counter to get the key cards. To your surprise, your room was right next to his.

Max made sure that you were safely in bed, before retiring to his room. You had given him a sleepy hug before he left. The feeling made him feel warm on the inside. He barely was able to send a few text messages and post something on his story before drifting off to sleep.

He groaned as lyrics filled his head.

“Life is a highway and Y/n I’m going to kill you for this.”

tagged: logansargeant and oscarpiastri

tagged: y/n.89

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @agent-curt-mega @julesbabey @lydialawrence @stopeatread @claudia5912 @nichmeddar @blueberry64857959 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @leptitlu @alessioayla

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x driver!reader #max verstappen x reader #platonic grid x reader #arthur leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #formula 1 x you #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #alex albon x reader

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for-a-longlongtime · 8 months

Text

Songs and musings in the Key of Peña-Rockford

(Those gun holsters have me all fucked up. Seriously.)

I warned y'all about how obsessive my hyperfocus can get, right? Damn ADHD. The choke hold (all the puns intended) that this fic idea has on me is unreal, haha. But all of your comments and encouragements about this Rockford Pena WIP are making me so happy and relieving some of the stress I feel about writing it - thank you! I don't have another snippet to share just yet (so I hope this post isn't too much of a cock tease), but since I always love to read about character thots and writing processes (e.g. the extra posts by @mysterious-moonstruck-musings about her Destiny & Deliverance series, and @gracieispunk with her White Lotus posts), I figured I'd post a little update with some musings and songs I'm associating with this fic.

My Spotify currently is curated by @sin-djarin, who somehow knew just the right songs that relate to this WIP. Particularly these three tracks are on constant repeat. Going back and forth with her about little things that come up, or question ‘why this and not’ has been so much fun really. It makes me giddy because it turns the fic into something collaborative rather than just something from the inside of my brain, you know?

youtube

Whisper - Morphine

I included this track the other day already with the WIP snippet; it’s sexy and slow and that bass line really gets to me, then the saxophone ups it even more. @sin-djarin sent me several Morphine songs (I have to admit that somehow I wasn’t familiar with them) but this one stands out. The push and pull that’s happening in the lyrics is also delicious, and a lot of it feels like it’s coming from Rockford’s POV about Javi - that’s all I’ll say about it for now.

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A Perfect Twist - Mike Patton

This song has an exuberant, rather bombastic vibe to it that I would’ve never associated with anything related to Peña. Although, those lyrics... they are definitely about brat taming.

I'll bend you over my knee Let's see what you can take You're never gonna break

And I'll squeeze that noose a little tighter Breathing like a snake How much can you take? You're never gonna break

And I'll turn those screws a little tighter You can hardly wait You're never gonna break

Just one more twist of the pliers Got you on the brink How much can you take? You're never gonna break

There’s something about the dizzying tune and pace that somehow evokes the noir-like Rockford vibes in the Merge Mansion clips, laced with liquor and cigarette smoke and things spinning kinda out of control.

Wait who said Masquerade Mansion? 🎭

In relation to these two?

Shhhh let’s pretend you didn’t see that. Keep your eyes wide shut. 🎭

youtube

Broad Daylight - Gabriel Rios

This is the only song that suddenly came to me re: this fic, and I was all… the fuck is this. I like the song, it's catchy, but it just didn’t make any sense to me with regard to Javi and Tim. The only thing I could think of in relation to the track was maybe a vague reference of Peña getting caught up with Los Pepes, things that were done in the dark and shouldn't come out in the daylight:

Back in the old days, tight like a fight Used to hang with the devil in the broad daylight

But still, it puzzled me. I think something in one of the Morphine songs musically led me to Broad Daylight, weird as that may sound. After way too many replays of that song (and @sin-djarin joking about 'what are those Polaroids Tim has on Javi?', since the song mentions polaroids), the relevance of the song finally clicked with me;

Look at you shaking you can't find his plight Got you scared of ghosts in the dead of night While you're making up stories trying to make it ok He'll be bringing them in to let them out and play In the broad daylight

We'll see how it goes from there.

At some point, there's also going to be a bit of Marcus Pike in the fic (pancakes!). I have to be honest - I don’t really read a lot of Marcus!fic, so I’ve been trying to figure out how he fits in and some of his character traits etc. But the wonderful @secretelephanttattoo was very quick to offer me some insights about Marcus that I needed! Go read it here.

TBH, I had absolutely not planned to write anything about Peña any time soon, because why I love him in canon and in the many fics I've read, I didn't exactly feel like I had a good enough handle on writing something about him that has some plot rather than just fucking. But then this fic idea popped up. If there's anyone who knows him really well, it's @goodwithcheese (you'd better be reading her incredible new story Paranoid Heart about Javi!). So I dropped some questions and fortunately she was totally up for some character chat right here, which is really helping me figure out some things. Thank you babe, and I hope more people will contribute thots to your 1K Celebration Confessional about their sins!

Also, I've been trying to put a time and place to the fic, but I've decided to not get too hung up about that because it's really not literature but Fic/Porn With Plot. It doesn't all have to make sense. But in case you're curious, I'm leaning towards this taking place in the US in recent enough times that smartphones are a thing.

Age wise, I'm seeing Tim Rockford as being 48/50 years old probably. Javier is about 40, 41 years old - just to give you an idea of 'which Javi' I'm looking at, I've got a sense of him as he is in Narcos S2 around episode 4-9, after Carillo is murdered, and Berna takes him to see Judy Moncada.

Reader insert (I know, I haven't spoken a lot about her yet!) is probably about 40 years old too. And finally, Marcus Pike is give r take about 37 years old, which corresponds with his Mentalist appearance.

youtube

BTW, I came across an edit that had all of the Tim Rockford bits from the ads without the additional stuff. A whopping total of 48 seconds. Man, I hope that Pedro is aware of how fucked up he has us about Rockford with less than a minute of his acting. Even my wife said 'I would totally watch a show or movie based on this character' when I played the Merge Mansion ads for her.

Finally, here's a video of Pedro talking about "real fantasy fullfillment in terms of getting to immerse yourself in an experience" and how he "loves being a detective, that's fantasy fullfilment for me" re: the Merge Mansion event day.

*hits replay*

Say 'fantasy fullfillment' one more time? Respectfully.

Like I said, I hope he knows how fucked up he has us all about Rockford. I sure am glad he did these ads and whatever he got paid, it sure wasn't enough.

---------------------------------------------------------

Updated tag list (comment if you want to be added, or if I added you by accident!) based on folks who commented/reblogged on the prev posts:

@sin-djarin @legendary-pink-dot @imalrightllama @secretelephanttattoo @rhoorl @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @trulybetty @goodwithcheese @linzels-blog @rifflovesjoey @maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @youandmeand5bucks @morallyinept @5oh5 @missredherring @avastrasposts @anavatazes @imaswellkid @pedrit0-pascalit0 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @survivingandenduring @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @sheepdogchick3 @inept-the-magnificent @northernwindd @alltheglitterandtheroar @readingiskeepingmegoing @txlady37 @rebel-held @alwaysmicado @heareball @clawdee @covetyou @bellsbluebrd @alltheglitterandtheroar @axshadows @casa-boiardi @bastardmandennis @stealyourblorbos @chronically-ghosted @katw474 @beabliss @nerdieforpedro

I don't know why some usernames don't seem to link when I try to tag them, btw. Does anyone have any suggestions on how to fix this?

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aninkwellofnectar · 2 months

Text

Welcome!

You can call me Cammie.

Here I’ll be sharing updates and information about my existing and upcoming publications in The Essence of the Equinox series, as well as other stories set both in and out of the universe.

Publications

In Pursuit of Perfection in Fall into Fantasy 2022 Amira has always demanded perfection—of herself and those around her. Her quest for absolute control takes her on a journey to the hot deserts of Seraj where rumours permeate that humans may have rediscovered the ancient phoenix. Should its power be harnessed, the fire witches will be unmatched. Amira thinks it time they re-learn who the true supreme being on earth is.

When The Stars Alight (16 June 2023) Book 1 in The Essence of the Equinox (Buy Indie | Other vendors) Star princess Laila travels to a cursed island to uncover a legendary race of demons. There, she finds herself up against a tyrannical king who rules without a heart. To spare her country from his warmongering ways, Laila must play the role of charming diplomat aided by the prince and his bastard brother. But soon it is her heart she must keep from being torn between their dangerous rivalry for her affections.

Two Halves Of A Whole in midnight & indigo (31 October 2023) (Purchase) Lucille Bonnaire finds herself becoming the new bride to vampyre prince Ilya Likhanov. Unfortunately, she is unaware of just how nefarious his intentions are towards her and her magic.

The Sanguine Sorceress (1 December 2023) Prequel in The Essence of the Equinox (Other vendors | Buy Indie ) A blood-soaked tale of feminine rage following the journey of Serafina Stilia, as she attempts to claw agency for herself in a society where all the power is held fast in the grip of a male-run imperialistic regime. After her reputation is left in tatters by the unwanted advances of a suitor, Serafina must carve a path to liberation from the fury of her honour-driven father, or die trying.

Upcoming

We Will Devour The Night (22 September 2024) Book 2 in the Essence of the Equinox (Pre-order on Amazon) Since that fateful voyage north, negative sentiments have only grown against chaos magic and the creatures born from its origins. Laila returns to Mortos with the aim of salvaging her dynasty from those who wish to wrangle the throne on a platform of magic-driven bigotry. She finds herself once more crossing paths with her old lover and confronting the whirlwind of emotions that twenty years apart have done little to settle.

And The Age of Summer Will Rise (Winter 2025) Book 3 in The Essence of the Equinox Summary to come

As an addendum to this I do have a ko-fi account ☕. If you enjoy what I do here and would like to support me by becoming a member or donating to my publishing fund it would be very much appreciated.

You can support me also by signing up to my author newsletter. Content will include insights behind the scenes into my writing process, exclusive snippets, deleted scenes, media musings, publishing opportunities I am pursuing and much more!

Feel free to ask me anything regarding my books, my short fiction, my self-publishing journey and anything else you’d care to know about!

#authors of tumblr #authors of color #authors on tumblr #indie author #books and reading #booklr #bookworm #books & libraries #books #reading #bookish

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littlelesbinonny · 5 months

Text

The Devil's Den

Chapter 39: In Which The Daylight Is Fading Pt. 2

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

Jesus fucking Christ.

Alcina was about to become suddenly un-internally screaming.

You. You! What was she going to do with you? Yes, you had figured it out. Yes, you were changing. Yes, you were not just a human. Yes, were rightfully demanding answers and Alcina was on the verge of losing it. How in the goddamn hell was she supposed to juggle all of this?! It was her own fucking fault. Still, through it all her greatest fear and determination was to keep you safe. But you had to listen, you had to understand, you had to blindly trust, and fuck, she knew how hard that was. She was nearly ready to cross the threshold and tell you everything just to get the weight off her shoulders. But it would only burden you more, wouldn't it? One loss to another gain?

And Malka. Who was this Malka. An old Jewish Mystic? Really? Were they still around? She scoffed.

You were right. Yet again. It should be her guiding you through this, not some old woman she didn't even know or trust with you! In her absence and lack of ability or will to address what was happening to you she had inadvertently sent you off to another for answers.

God - fucking damn it all!

She flitted her way back to the church as fast a she could. Her mind could duke it out with her heart later.

Donna was there now with a slew of vampires. Father Archer had disappeared and Alcina was eternally grateful. Father Sullivan was still present as was the shaking, pale as a ghost deacon from before. Poor child. He should be put out of his misery for the pure act of mercy. Seeing his comrade in such a state would scar him for life.

All eyes turned to her as she came in through the same side door and shut it behind her.

Alcina chiseled her features to a stern, stoic facade and joined the group.

"Excuse us, please," Donna enunciated as Alcina approached, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her through to a neighboring room, out of sight and hearing range, "where have you been?"

Her inquiry wasn't sharp nor rude, but dripping with disbelief and genuine curiosity as to why she'd leave this scene.

"She saw it. I had to go after her."

Donna's eyes went wide at Alcina's admission.

"W-what? Who? Your human?"

"She has a name!" Alcina spat, quickly reclaimed her control and took a deep breath, "Just - I'm sorry... I don't know how or why she was here but she walked into it, and I had to follow her and make sure she was alright."

Donna blinked, "Is she?"

"Of course not. But she is fine for the time being. I'm here now. What have I missed?" she asked placing a hand mindfully on her hip.

There was a confused pause but Donna threw it out the window, "I radioed Karl to order mobilization of our troops outside of the underground. If a mutant is here we have to locate it before it gets any farther in the human world and creates who knows what kind of havoc. We can only contain and minimize so much before it becomes a conspiracy theory on TickedTocked, or whatever the fuck humans use for news now."

Alcina sighed, "what about the boys family?"

"That's something you'll need to discuss with Father Sullivan. He's been pretty quiet since we arrived. You'll need to do some serious damage control here."

"I want updates as soon as anything comes in," she mused, taking off your gloves.

"I figured you would."

Donna held out a small radio comm for Alcina.

She took it with a short smile and nodded, "always on top of it. Go, get back underground. I'll take care of what needs done up here."

Malka sat perched on her sofa. Eyes wide, but facial expressions otherwise void of much else.

"I..." you mumbled, "I don't know what to do."

Clearing her throat, Malka nodded very slowly, her vision cast down to the floor now as her lips pursed while she chewed on all of this information.

"I don't know much else, but the feeling in my old gut says Alcina is right; you should be mindful of your safety. You are a novice, though a quick learning and talented one, it seems as though whatever devil has escaped in this world is not to be trifled with, no? Even I, as old and wise as I might be, wouldn't even know where to begin concerning this."

"It's not like I'm going to go out looking for a fight, I just, I just want to be able to help myself, and god forbid Alcina if something goes really wrong."

Malka narrowed her eyes at you, "staying out of sight and out of harms way is the likeliest option right now, ketzeleh. What you described to me, what the foe did to your very powerful Alcina, if that's any indication as to this things power... invisibility would be your best bet for safety. We still don't know the extent of your powers. Perhaps we can try illusion magic, it would be a good additive to aid your mind EMP trick."

"Mind EMP magick?"

She smirked, "yes, that's what I've deemed it. What you did to those boys was clearly a nervous system attack, much like an EMP pulse would do to electronics; it seemed to cause them great pain and shut down their function until they scrambled away from you. So, mind EMP - voila!"

You couldn't help but chuckle a little. You liked that.

Getting back to present matters, you leaned on your knees and sighed, "ok, so... tell me about this illusions magick. Is it really invisibility?"

Malka grinned, "almost. It's the manipulation of perception; you alter your energy field to match your surroundings in a way that hides you in plain sight. Someone, or something, can be looking directly at you and see you but not comprehend you're standing there. You cease to exist as a singular entity and become one with what is around you. You're there, but cannot be perceived."

"Can you show me?" you asked excitedly.

"Oh heavens, I am not as strong as I used to be and I don't practice my abilities the way I used to so I highly doubt it, but I can try to walk you through it. Go stand in front of the book case."

Doing as instructed, you did so and watched as the little old woman came towards you with her eyes glittering with that mischievous light she held.

She grasped your left arm and made you hold it out in front of you, flattening your palm outwards and stood in front of you.

"Now... close your eyes, find your energy source, and focus on wanting to not be seen. Repeat this silently to yourself: I am my surroundings, I am part of the picture."

Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes and let yourself feel your body and the energy pulsing through you. After a few moments you instinctively pushed your intention through your arm to your palm and slowly chanted in your mind; I am my surroundings. I am part of the picture. I am my surroundings. I am part of the picture. I... am my surroundings... I am part of the picture.

Like a flickering television screen trying to load the picture from a spotty antenna connection, Malka watched as your body began to blend into the bookcase and a large smile took her lips.

"Yes, good ketzeleh! Keep going!"

You tried to focus harder but it seemed the harder you tried the more your memory kept throwing images of Alcina and the scene from the church to your forefront, the argument, the way she looked at you, the fear you could feel from her, and everything else that transpired just a few hours prior. Before long you dropped your shield and huffed, angry you couldn't keep control.

Malka, and the ever nurturing woman she was, came to grasp your arm and brought you back to the couch.

"Come. It has been a traumatic night for you. Don't be discouraged, you managed to flicker a little which is quite a feat! You're very powerful, but you must learn to hone your control better, that's all."

Leo came and jumped in your lap as you slumped back, feeling quite defeated, and not just by failing at your attempt to vanish.

Your mind and heart was heavy. You knew things were not right. Anywhere.

"Do you really think it wise to disappear at a time like this?" Donna asked sharply.

Alcina did her best not to react, turning her eyes over her shoulder as she was putting a few things away in the shelf behind her desk, "I promised her yesterday I would see her tonight. It will be a short visit."

"It's not safe!"

"I'm aware!" she snapped, "But I intend to keep my promise and we have this place on lock down. Like it or don't, I'm going."

Donna was about to have a fit but knew it would get her nowhere. She bit her bottom lip and felt the tension in her jaw grow tighter, finally accepting the Matriarch's decision and turning to leave. She had too much shit to do.

"Be careful." Was all she offered before she took her leave.

She loved Alcina with all of her heart, but Christ that woman drove her absolutely mad at times!

Donna damn near slammed her door shut when she entered the house.

She headed straight to the kitchen and poured herself a large glass of blood-wine and leaned her hip on the counter, tapping her free hand on the granite top as she had a stare-down with the floor. "You know, maybe I'll take up smoking," she muttered to herself, "take this edge off otherwise I may just snap one of these days. Just maybe."

Taking another large gulp she shook her head and made her way with purpose to her own study to make a call to Karl, but she didn't get far until a very strange chiming came ringing from the bookshelf in the living room.

Donna stepped slowly into the room and listened, her keen sense of hearing drawing her eyes to an ornately carved jade box she'd been given by an admirer long, long ago.

The shrillness of the sound was relieved when she removed the lid to find an old small black cell phone ringing off the hook.

She was hesitant to answer it. How did this even get in here? She'd never had a cell phone and knew no one who did.

But her instincts shoved their way passed her apprehension and she pressed the worn out green phone icon on the front.

"... Hello?"

"UH-BOUT FUCKING TIME!"

"Angie!" Donna shot, "oh my god where have you been, where are you, are you ok?!"

Her little cretin sister had been missing in action for nearly over a month, and while she knew she was up to something and likely on a hot trail, she hated not knowing where she was or what she was doing. Angie drove her just about as nuts as Alcina did these days.

"I'm fine, I've been in a wall."

"What?"

"I'm in a wall, ok? For like, fuckin' weeks - but that's really really really not what's important right now and I need you to -"

"Jesus, Angie, slow down!"

"No! I ain't got time to slow down - you gotta speed up! Shit is going down and it's going down fast and there's not a lotta time to explain because my battery is hella fuckin' low but they're coming - "

"W-what, who?"

"Shut up and let me finish! FIND ALCINA NOW! Get the military! They're coming! They're coming THROUGH the underground! I'm on my way but -"

Silence.

"A-Angie?" Donna sputtered, "Angie?!"

She pulled the phone away from her ear to see the small screen had disconnected the call. Trying desperately to remember how to operate these fucking things, Donna hit a few buttons and found the call list, highlighting the only one on the screen and redialing.

Barely a ring sounded in the earpiece before an annoying woman's voice told her the voicemail box had not been set up. She hung up quickly and sped through the house to find her comm.

Alcina's mind was unnervingly quiet as she made her way up to the church and through it. It was as eerily silent and she heard every single one of her footsteps as if she'd never heard them before. Father Sullivan was at the alter up front, staring up to the stained glass with his rosary wrapped around his hands that were in a praying formation.

"The boys mother has demanded to speak with you, Lady Dimitrescu."

His voice halted her in her tracks.

Great.

"Was it wise to tell and outsider of our existence, Father?" she countered, eying him thoroughly as he turned and slowly began to walk up the aisle.

"You left me with a very unfortunate circumstance. There's very few lies I could tell to comfort this woman. The truth was my only option."

Alcina's perfectly arched brow matched the frown in her crimson red lips, "sometimes lies are necessary."

Father Sullivan stopped in front of her, gazing up at her intimidating stature as he secured his hands behind his back, "to you, perhaps. When can I tell her you're free?"

She wanted to scoff but did not, instead her other eyebrow joined in similar fashion, "I am quite busy, finding the one responsible for her sons death and all, you know -"

"Please make time for this. You must make this right!"

"And what am I suppose to tell her, Father?! Yes, dear lady, there's an underground legion of vampires that live beneath your feet - so sorry your poor boy got caught up in a problem that escaped from there, please, tell me what I can do to make this better for your pitiful human existence?! You should have lied to her and saved us more mess! Humans outside of the church should know nothing about us!"

"She has sworn an oath to secrecy."

"Ugh, please. Her word means nothing to me, you have nothing to stand on she will keep it."

"As if you all are so much better?"

Alcina's spine tensed and she inched closer to the man below her, her face riddled with her distaste.

"Your insinuation displeases me greatly, Father Sullivan. Awfully bold for you to throw that at me when you and yours have no defense against whatever is running loose aside from the ones your insulting."

He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw, "you're here to stop things like this from happening at all, aren't you?"

"The best laid plans of mice and men, Father. We cannot see all ends. I've lost more of my men to this problem than you have any idea about," her voice took a dark turn as she stepped in even closer, "if you think I'm not doing everything I can, you are sorely mistaken. You've had one casualty, to which I'm exercising all in my power to make sure doesn't happen again... I have lost over fifty... mind your accusations."

Father Sullivan nodded curtly and backed away from the towering vampire, swallowing once more and straightening his posture, "forgive me, Lady Dimitrescu. As you must understand this has been heavily shocking for us. I'm struggling with... well, many things. As one leader to another, you know the pressure I'm under."

Considering his words with a softening of her face, Alcina relaxed slightly and took a deep breath, "that I do. And as one leader to another, and while you've never faced the terrors I have, know this; when the true struggles set in with vengeance, making enemies of your true allies is the worst move you can make. And we are your allies, Father. Though you cannot see the work taking place behind the scenes, you must trust us the way you always have."

He nodded slowly, "you're right. I will. We will. Forgive my words."

"I'll let you in on a little secret; if I took true displeasure or offense in what you said, you'd not be here looking me in the face. I do kind of like you, Father, but please stay on my good side," she winked.

The smallest of smiles appeared and he nodded once more, "noted."

Without another word she was gone.

Your lit up apartment was a sight for her weary eyes and Alcina scaled your building with ease, allowed herself in your balcony door after sensing her surroundings thoroughly.

The pending conversation was giving her pause but more than anything she just wanted to see you, hold you in her arms, and keep you close and know you were safe as long as you were there.

But where were you?

Alcina scoured the living room until a flickering caught her eye and within a split second there you appeared, eyes wide and your palm held out in front of you. You looked almost as bewildered as her.

"Draga..." she uttered, feeling her heart lurch in her chest at the sight of you, her worries almost melting away as she stepped towards you.

She had almost expected you to be hesitant at her very presence, but you were no where near that as you nearly bolted for her.

Alcina met you halfway through the living room and you were within each others arms not quickly enough. You buried your face in her chest and she in your hair, staying in silence and comfort that the two of you were safe and unharmed and together amidst the chaos outside.

Before you knew what was happening Alcina had relocated her arms and scooped you up and brought you to the couch, wrapping you up in her strong encompassing embrace like you'd slip away like liquid.

"I've missed you. I've been really worried about you," you uttered in her neck, keeping your arms secure around her.

"Oh draga," she replied softly, "I'm fine. Are you?"

You simply nodded mutely against her and closed your eyes.

"I don't have long," Alcina admitted solemnly, "but I promised to see you and listen to what you needed to tell me."

Damn her, you couldn't stop your smile.

Finally pulling away you looked at those stunning slate colored eyes and leaned in to kiss those plush red lips, "you're a woman of your word, and I love you for that."

Alcina hummed through a soft smile and kissed you back, "for my girl, I am anything you wish of me."

Oh. Oh wow.

"If you're trying to get back into my good graces you don't have to pull out all the stops, you know," you jested trying to shove your tears back in your eyelids.

She cupped your face with her leather glove clad hand and made you look at her, "I mean it, draga mea. I love you. Now... tell me everything."

Alcina was still chewing and swallowing on everything you had told her, but still the hardest to force down was this Malka woman. Was it just her jealousy, which she would never admit out loud, or was it something worth buying into? You'd never spoke of having many friends, and this was the first she'd heard of this woman, and while she was clearly no threat to you and your affections for her, Alcina didn't like the idea of someone else being so close to you. Silly, perhaps. Petty, perhaps. You were her hearts treasure and she was not taking you for granted. Not again.

"And that is why you materialized out of thin air when I arrived?" she asked stroking her hand mindlessly up and down your thigh.

You were leaned back on the arm of the couch with your legs draped over her lap while you had spilled all of your beans to her, making it easy to stay close and intimate but still able to see all of each other.

"I've been working at it tirelessly, I'm really pretty drained right now, but... yeah. It's nice to know I finally got it."

To say she was doing her best to hide her overwhelm was being nice about it. You really were coming into your own and there was no stopping it. Alcina only wished this wasn't happening at the same time everything else was. More than anything she wanted to be here for you on this journey, be part of it, help you discover and uncover and train and work your magick the way she should be. But this was also so very dangerous. Not just for you, but for her. If Mother Miranda were to ever -

A ruckus from your bedroom startled you both and before either of you could move from the couch, a tiny brunette appeared from the hallway.

"Donna!" Alcina gasped, unceremoniously dropping your legs from her lap and standing with a jolt.

She was a little out of breath as she straightened her black button down, high-collared shirt while approaching the two of you.

Oh, ok, so this was Donna. What the hell was she doing in your apartment?

You stood next to Alcina quite confused and unsure of your own footing.

"I really don't have time for pleasantries," Donna stated, addressing you with a short nod, "though it is nice to finally put a face with a name," her attention immediately went back to Alcina with haste, "we need to go now, this is not up for debate."

Alcina was almost taken aback. Firstly, for Donna to find her, let alone be here, was concerning all on it's own. Secondly, for her to be in such a state, which was hidden immaculately for the situation, made Alcina's stomach twist. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

Goddammit.

You barely had time to register anything before Alcina took your face in her palms once more and looked at you like you would fade away within the second.

"Do not leave this apartment until the sun is up. And do not be outside of this apartment when the sun begins to set, do you understand me?"

Her tone made your face contort into worry, but you nodded, "yes."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

"Lock your doors and your windows. Do not open the door to anyone outside of daylight hours."

Alcina watched your nod of agreement and pulled you to her once more, holding onto you for as long as she could, "I love you, I love you, and I will return to you as soon as I can."

"I - I love you too - "

You were cut off as she kissed you with haste and with one more blink she and Donna were gone.

You stood there in your silent apartment trying to wrap your mind around what just happened.

Things were taking a turn. You could feel it.

It felt awful.

Now all you could think about was Alcina.

"I can see why you're so smitten with the woman, she's beautiful."

Alcina could have run into a wall, that comment struck her so out of left field.

"What the entire fuck, Donna," she spat as they hurried through the city streets, "that's the first thing you say to me after showing up like that? What the fuck is going on?!"

"I know, I'm sorry! I'm panicked!"

"Clearly!"

"Angie called me - "

"Wh - from where?"

"I'll get there, I'll get there - just let me explain, we have very little time! She hid a cell phone in our house - it rang - it was her - she told me she's been hiding in a wall for weeks and that they, whoever they are, were moving and moving fast and we didn't have time, that I need to find you and get our military moving, that they were moving through the underground - I radioed Karl and basically everyone is running around like headless chickens trying to make heads or tails of what she told me - I had no choice but to alert everyone in the city and all the council - she must mean the mutants because I cannot fathom what else she could possibly mean!"

Alcina's head was fitfully spinning as they rushed through the church like a blur and to the tunnels to the underground.

And then they heard it.

Rumbling.

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu/female reader #alcina dimitrescu/original female character #alcina dimitrescu/reader #lesbian #f/f #fanfic #wlw #fic #donna beneviento #angie beneviento

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voxxisms · 27 days

Note

🎈 = How do the mun and muse react to surprises? When is the last time either was surprised and what surprised them?

💛 = How would the mun and muse describe their best friends?

@radiomurdeer whispered a line ;; mun vs muse ( accepting! ) i did answer the first one already, so the second one is being answered!

i have a hard time defining best friends, because i love my friends so much anyway, but my wife han ( we arent married yet but one day ) definitely counts. she is incredible, so loving && patient with me. she puts up with my less than amazing days, helps me grow && learn, teaches me so much all the time. an absolute light in my life, the soul in my body, the very flame in my heart. she is so creative && talented, an amazing writer && artist both! you can find her at @huskker, @araakniss, && @vyrrus !! @staticintone definitely comes into the list too, i absolutely adore river, met her through han, && she has been an incredible friend, lovely person to game && roleplay with, && a huge support for me too. hugely talented writer, too, an amazing person to bounce ideas off of, && so sweet!

❝ best friends? who do you think i am? ❞

he doesn't want to answer, && that's complex because he has varied verses, but i'll answer for him in general terms based on my headcanons && majority of interactions! vox, of course, has varied levels of connection depending on the alastor we talk about, but so far there's a couple where, at one point, they absolutely would have been considered his best friend. he would describe alastor as fiercely protective, innovative && ambitious. creative, wise, && a guiding light. if we look at others that he's close to, in general terms he finds valentino to be very passionate && strong - willed, ambitious, too. velvette he considers to be very enigmatic && fierce, incredibly adaptive && willful.

❝ ... i guess it isn't wrong. ❞

you love them.

❝ shut it. ❞

#【 WHAT YOU DON'T KNOW IS ... | ( ASKS ). 】#【 LEE ONE && ONLY | ( AUTHOR ). 】#【 A HELL WITHIN MY HEAD | ( AUTHOR & MUSE ). 】#【 WHO IS IN CONTROL | ( MUSE UPDATE ). 】#radiomurdeer #this was a mess hfjskh

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staticgcne · 20 days

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tags.

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makeastand · 3 months

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‎‧₊˚✧looking for new long term discord rp partners✧˚₊‧

Hi everyone! I’m not new to roleplaying at all, and am looking for a handful of new writing partners, though I have absolutely no self control and can’t say no to anyone with a good plot. I get too invested in roleplays and can ramble on for days about a rp / character I love.

long ass post alert:

I’m 24 and have been roleplaying for about 10 years now. Please be 21+ before interacting (I will be checking and blocking if not) My time zone is GMT, but I don’t mind where my partners come from. I’ve been having so much inspiration recently and am dying for some new roleplays. I’m a real sucker for writing deep and complex characters, and very much enjoy writing for the plot and character development as opposed to poorly written smut just for the sake of it. If it fits in with the rp I’m happy to write smut, or fade to black, whatever you’re more comfortable with.

I work full time, and stupid hours, so I’m not always about, but I’ll try and let you know what’s going on.

I like writing the male role in MxF, and also love MxM. I love playing multiple characters in a rp, but you’re welcome to play as many or few as you like. The guys I play are pretty well thought out, with lots of depth, background, emotion, and usually a bunch of trauma (so please tell me your limits in advance). All I ask is your character is not dry and impossible to work with. I’m not stupid, and know when I’m being used for my male / dom muses so if you present me with an overly subby character who’s lacking personality, you will be blocked, sorry.

I prefer quality over quantity. Like I said, I can get carried away and write pages upon pages, but if you can only manage a couple of good paragraphs, that’s fine with me. I’ll try and match your length in replies as long as they’re not one liners.

In terms of plot, it would be easier to list the things I don’t love. There are a few plots which have been nagging at my brain recently:

zombie apocalypse

horror

tough guy x soft girl / guy

mafia related

I hate everyone but you trope

victorian era (preferably MxM)

noblewoman x poor man

celebrity x celebrity

haunted house

stripper x gang member

friends with benefits

small town / murder mystery

right people wrong time / ex friends or lovers reuniting

criminal x criminal

AI takeover (DBH style)

older, religious, inexperienced man x man whore

high school

fantasy (werewolves / vampires)

I can’t get rid of these two bullet points below and tumblr is making me violent so I’m going to wrap things up here. I’m going to try and get an updated list with my face claims / oc’s on my blog soon, so watch this space. I’m not one to pick your faceclaim, and you don’t have to use one if they’re not your thing. If you’ve read this far, thank you. Sorry this is so long! Please message me with what plot you’re interested in, because I’m trying not to get shadowbanned again.

#1x1 #1x1 roleplay #1x1 rp #1x1 rp search #discord 1x1

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j0kers-light · 9 months

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His Lighthouse: Mind Games (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Mind Games

series summary:

Y/n is an aspiring writer living in Gotham City and struggling to find her next muse. Her recent novel is getting all the buzz, earning her far more attention than she signed up for. But when a chance encounter results in her nursing The Joker back to health, will she find the time to write another best seller or will her own story become front page of the Gotham Gazette?

chapter summary:

The mind is a dangerous weapon, you should know this firsthand. Surely this all can't be real? But if so.. then who's lying? And who's telling the truth?

author's note:

Its been far too long loves! I'm back with a new update and boy is this one a doozy! Forget everything you thought happened last chapter and just read from the top! Things will slowly start to make sense or trick you. I hope you enjoy either way! I had a song selected for this chapter but in the end, it didn't fit the overall mood. Maybe next time.

taglist:

@blackreaderatrisk @twinkledinkle @clemdango04 @l3ejm @tears-of-amber @what-an-angel @darthjokerisyourfather @thatsnoteii @dollster @cheetahspy @kaidennnnn @urdariingdoll @motivation-idontknowher @ins0mniac-whack

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

When did your mind start playing tricks on you? Did you hallucinate the entire conversation or just bits and pieces? When did it all go horribly wrong?

Your head was pounding and you didn't remember a thing after Bruce stepped closer to you.

When your back hit the balcony railing, it set off a trigger that made you instantly disassociate. You didn't hear Bruce's smooth voice after that as it was replaced with another from your past— one that you tried so hard to forget. It was sickly sweet and made you feel dirty inside and out.

Words and phrases were twisted around until you didn't know what to believe anymore. The background changed from your rooftop balcony to that damp and dark alleyway and that's when you knew nothing beyond this point was real.

Deep down you knew Bruce would never be this cruel but you couldn't be too sure. He was a gentleman... this wasn't real, but your mind made it seem very realistic.

Your memories from that night were back and you couldn't bear to relive it again.

'It's not real.' You repeated over and over as your mind spiraled out of control.

Bruce noticed you were shivering and covered your shoulders with a heavy blanket. He sighed when you tensed up and wrapped the fabric around yourself like a shield. You were so jumpy lately, it really had him concerned.

He didn't understand why you were so distant towards him. Bruce could be the bigger person here and ask why despite the awkward tension festering between the two of you.

"How do I say this? You've been distant lately. Especially to me." He said. He wasn't expecting your timid voice to respond so quickly.

"Uh.. yeah? I hope so since I broke things off with you and if you haven't noticed over dinner— I've moved on. You're the one that keeps being nice and trying to get along with my parents.."

Bruce strained to hear what else you said under your breath but he caught your eyes blinking a mile a minute. That was unusual.

"Y/n, are you alright?" He asked.

"Yeah." You said without missing a beat.

He frowned and stepped closer, causing you to back away and hit the balcony railing with your hip. You slurred more of your words together.

"Are you sure? You look unwell, Y/n. Perhaps we should get you inside."

You were mumbling under your breath but Bruce couldn't hear a word. He knew something was wrong when you held your head and started hyperventilating. Then it hit him. You were having a panic attack.

His Batman instincts immediately kicked in.

"Breathe in and out, Y/n. Whatever it is, it's not real. Can you hear me? Y/n?" You avoided his touch but Bruce was persistent in trying to calm you down.

"Whatever is hurting you Y/n, please let me inand—"

Bruce never heard a scream as blood curdling as yours.

It's like he said the magic words and triggered old memories, for you immediately began fighting his hold, kicking and screaming with all your might. Bruce was a strong individual, with or without the bat suit, but he struggled trying to keep you still. You were too close to the balcony ledge for his liking so he corralled you back towards the apartment to keep you safe.

Everyone in the penthouse heard your horrified scream and woke up out of their slumber to investigate.

Your mom and dad were unfortunately veterans to this and knew exactly what was going on so they rushed straight to the scene.

Barbara, Morgana, and Dick however stumbled out of their rooms and followed the commotion out onto the balcony, not truly understanding what was going on in.

They all arrived to witness you screaming at the top of your lungs and clawing at Bruce's arms like a feral cat. He was trying to calm you down but the scene looked rather odd without any context.

Your parents would walk in while the two of you were in a suggestive position.

Bruce did a double take at the shocked audience and shouted, "Don't just stand there, help me!" You resorted to biting him and he almost lost his grip on you again if not for his leg pinning you down.

Your mother panicked seeing you in a fit of hysterics and she couldn't blame you. You were being manhandled during such a delicate situation.

"Let go of her!" She rushed to Bruce's side and snatched you out of his hold.

The second you felt a female presence, you stopped fighting back but continued to cry uncontrollably.

Your father slid to your side but kept his distance as to not set you off again. He felt useless not being able to help in your time of need yet your mother quickly stepped up to the plate in his stead.

"It's okay sweetheart. It's over, it's over. He's gone. You're safe now. It's all over." Your mother shushed in your ear. She rocked you like a baby as you choked back tears.

"P-Please stop! It hurts!" You wailed. Your mother blinked back her own tears while rubbing your back in big comforting circles. Your father met her gaze as they held a private conversation.

It's happening again.

"It's not real, Y/n. You're safe now." Mom glanced at Bruce's bloody arms and winced. "Babe, can you go find the first aid kit for Bruce?" She whispered to your dad so you wouldn't hear.

Everyone's eyes focused on the angry red claw marks your nails left on Bruce. Just what happened here? Your father grimaced at the bite mark but stood up to make himself useful.

You pleaded again, trapped in a distant memory and Morgana choked back a sob hearing her friend in so much pain.

It was too much to witness and she turned away to cry. Dick stood off to the side, oddly quiet, but concerned for his sister. Everyone was.

Barbara couldn't stand the silence and cried out, "What happened Bruce?"

Multiple curious eyes watched the billionaire rub the back of his head. Your father came back with the first aid kit and started accessing the damage you left. "She's still a fighter (mother's name). I bet these hurt like a mf, lemme see."

Bruce had suffered worse injuries but your nails were rather sharp so he let your father dab alcohol on each scratch to flush out the blood. Bruce had yet to answer the question on everyone's mind.

Your mother looked Bruce dead in the eye and arched an eyebrow. He thought he was gonna get the scolding of a lifetime at the intense e/c staring him down.

He started from the top and explained.

"I genuinely do not know. It's chilly out so I came to offer Y/n a blanket. I tried striking up a conversation about what happened over dinner but she started blinking excessively and clutching her head as if she had a headache. Her back hit the railing and I think she began to have a panic attack. When I tried to calm her down, she became combative."

You whimpered in your mother's arms as you finally fell asleep. She sighed in relief and swapped places with your dad.

She knew he felt useless and he gladly held you close now that you were unconscious and unaware of a male's touch. Your mom waved Bruce over and set about applying Neosporin to his scratches.

They were rather deep but they would heal in a few days time. He declined bandaids and she snapped the first aid kit closed and spoke.

"Don't blame yourself for this. Y/n had a very stressful day and her mind isn't functioning properly because of it."

"That doesn't explain what happened? Is Y/n okay?!" Morgana returned to the conversation with tear tracks still visible on her face.

She never seen you so distraught before. It was like a completely different person possessed your body just then. What kind of friend was she to not notice how much pain you were hiding? She wasn't any better than Florence.

Barbara was thinking the exact same thing. You needed solid friends right now and she was the worst one imaginable.

Your mother took a look around and sighed at the somber air on the balcony. She was emotionally drained after consoling you and it appeared that everyone else was drained as well.

"I think it's time to address the elephant in the room." She sighed. Your father shared a look with his wife. "You think Y/n will like that?"

Mom rolled her neck and snapped.

"D__n it, (father's name)! These are her friends! This episode clearly shows she's been suffering alone! They can help if they know what's going on! She can't keep bottling this up forever; it's killing her. Do you like seeing her like this? Reliving that night every time she's touched the wrong way or backed into a corner?"

Your father bit out his reply. "Of course I don't! But when Y/n wakes up and sees everyone eyeing her in pity, she'll recluse herself again. It's why she moved in the first place. Not everybody heals the way y'all doctors assume people should!"

Dick sighed and stepped in between the feuding couple. This could go on all night if someone didn't stop them.

They both eyed Dick, wondering what the charismatic boy was fixing to say.

"Unofficial, but official, adopted parents please. Go get Y/n situated then meet us back in the living room." Dick didn't wait for them to respond, he just asked Morgana and Bruce to follow him inside as he helped Barbara's wheelchair get over the balcony's sliding door hump.

Your parents didn't dispute his request. They got you settled in bed before coming back out into the living room with no further arguments.

Your friends were gathered around your living room in various stages of alertness. Dick handed out drinks to go with the sweets Barbara baked earlier.

After being woken up so abruptly, sugar was vital to stay awake.

Exhaustion was all around but this was an important meeting that was about to transpire. Not a second could be missed.

Your dad sat down with a sigh and pulled your mother into his lap.

They finally looked their age as they gathered their thoughts to begin. The air in the room was heavy for the next hour and a half as they explained everything to your closest friends.

What they had to say was absolutely horrifying.

"You sure you'll be alright dear?" Your mother asked.

She stood in the foyer as Dick and her husband loaded the car downstairs with leftovers early Friday morning.

The morning came with hushed trepidation but the crew was forced to eat breakfast without you.

You had slept on through the night without any other episodes and your mother didn't anticipate for you to wake up until late this afternoon.

Her and your father had to head back to Blüdhaven and Dick offered to drive them so they didn't have to catch a train. Bruce had to head into the office for board meetings and after apologizing to your parents, (your mother assured the billionaire that this wasn't his fault) he left with the promise that he would check on you later today.

Barbara wanted to stick around but she had to return to work herself which left Morgana volunteering to stay at your penthouse to take care of you.

The perks of being your own boss, she joked. 'You make your own hours.'

Morgana smiled at your mother and nodded.

"Yes ma'am, I'll be alright. Dick showed me around so I got a feel of the place. Leftovers are in the fridge so if she wakes up, I'll make sure she eats and provide her lots of emotional support. You told me what to do if she... that happens again." Morgana scratched her cheek, still processing all that was discussed last night. Or rather this morning.

Bruce, Barbara, Dick, and Morgana saw you in a new light after your parents revealed your dark past and they each swore not to cast a shred of pity on you.

You needed them more than you let on.

Barbara and Morgana were beside themselves hearing about your past and they felt awful for almost ruining a friendship over a silly rumor Florence hatched up. That was the least of their concerns right now. Getting you back in high spirits was the only priority.

Morgana called her employees and asked them to deliver a crate of assorted flowers to your apartment building.

You loved her creations so she would surprise you with a giant bouquet for your apartment. It was a tiny gesture in the grand scheme of things but Morgana was willing to do anything to make you happy after last night.

Flowers could liven up the place and ward off bad spirits. She made a mental note to water your sunroom plants while she was here.

"Well dear, you have my number if you need me." Your mother hugged Morgana right as Dick came through the door saying they were ready to go. "You take good care of my baby! We'll be back in a few more weeks." She said.

"Call me if you have a question, Morgana!" Dick offered to the florist.

Morgana waved them both off and closed the door after more pleasantries were exchanged.

Your parents were super cool. Morgana was lucky to have met them even despite the terrible circumstances. She sighed to herself and thought aloud. "What a day.. and it just started."

She had the place to herself until you woke up so she went about accessing the state of your household plants.

They looked a little worse for wear and could stand a special treatment.

The day trickled on and Morgana spent the majority of it working on the lush floral display her employees dropped off at your place. She twisted exotic and local flowers into a gorgeous statement piece but something was missing.

Morgana was wracking her head around exactly what when she swore she heard your bedroom door close.

"Y/n?"

She looked towards the hallway but didn't see anything. A glance at the clock set the day around one in the afternoon.

Your mother was right about you sleeping in. It meant this happened numerous times in the past for her to have a predetermined schedule.

Morgana shivered. How long have you suffered like this?

She saw a blanket-clad figure float down the hallway and set a pink rose down to follow you.

"Y/n are you..." You slammed the door shut right in her face.

Morgana stuttered in shock but pushed it back open only to watch you crawl under the covers. This was so unlike you. "Y/n are you hungry?" She asked hesitantly.

You shifted under the covers away from Morgana's gentle voice.

Your mom warned her that you'd be antisocial for the next twenty-four hours but urged the florist to get some food and water in you. You lost a lot of fluids from crying last night and needed to replenish yourself or risk getting sick.

Morgana sighed at your lack of response but left to fix you a simple plate of food to eat with some water. You were still a hermit when she returned to the bedroom. You were gonna make this babysitting thing difficult.

Morgana sat the glass of water down on the nightstand should you wake up thirsty.

"I left some water and a plate of food if you feel up to it, Y/n." She said.

You remained buried under covers with no plans of returning to the real world. Dick had invaded Joker's room and erased the comforting scent of lighter fluid and cinnamon from the bed sheets.

With the sea of uncertainty floating within your head, you needed something familiar to ground you to the present. You craved Joker and his unique scent but he was nowhere to be found.

You whimpered dejectedly and Morgana's heart went out to you.

She wanted to offer you some emotional support but decided to leave you be. No words of encouragement could help the pain you were in.

She checked on you one last time before leaving your room. Her mind was focused on you and not her surroundings. She received the jump scare of a lifetime when she turned the corner.

"Holy s__t!" Morgana yelped.

Joker pursed his lips and watched your friend try to scramble away. Morgana knocked a figurine on the hallway table over but remained on her feet for the most part. The bauble smashed onto the floor in several pieces and Joker hummed offhandedly at its demise.

"I uh li-ked that one. So! I'm guessing you're the... florist friend."

He blocked her escape and tilted his head in a show of intimidation. It worked like a charm. Morgana's brown eyes were wide like saucers.

"Y/n likes your work. The uhh.. arrangements.. from Arrange Me NoT.. ya see. I wasn't ex-pect-ting visitors so uh sorry bout this..." Joker went to grab Morgana but she shoved the decorative table in his direction and bolted down the hallway.

Joker sighed and gave her a head's start before he easily caught up to her in the living room.

He yanked her back by her hair and Morgana, ever mindful of you trying to sleep, stifled her scream with her palm.

Her back collided with the wall as Joker held a knife up to her throat. It was natural that she panicked but she did so for an entirely different reason.

"You can't kill me, it'll tear Y/n apart!" Morgana looked Joker dead in the eye and pleaded her case. He rolled his eyes and nudged her jugular with his knife.

"S-She's hurting! She's hurting and we didn't know!! If you kill me it'll only make things worse on her! Please, I want to take care of my friend, I won't tell a-anyone! I-I-I promise!" Morgana started to sob but Joker could care less.

He furrowed his brows and gripped his knife tighter, "Whaddya mean.. 'Y/n is hurting?"

Morgana scanned Joker's face. His makeup was more terrifying in person than on tv.

The clown looked serious but she didn't know the guy well enough to know for sure so she asked aloud. "Y-You don't know?"

J rolled his eyes again and smacked his lips. "I wouldn't asK if I diD, now would I? Who. HurT. Her?" Morgana flinched every time he stressed a syllable.

Now, Morgana was a sensible woman. She was book and street smart and used them well in life.

Even with her back literally against the wall, she wouldn't show fear; it wasn't in her free spirited nature. She faced fear with a straight face and dealt with the consequences later, however; this man was worse than fear.

The Joker was unpredictable and unnaturally calm with everything he did. He held her at knifepoint with a lazy grin as if it didn't matter if she answered or not.

She would die regardless.

Her life didn't matter to him so she had to think smart to stay alive. She resorted to her business savvy skills.

Morgana had information that Joker didn't know about and that put a value on her life. It would buy her some time to escape at least.

She nodded to herself and began to work.

"Will you let me go? I-I'll tell you anything, just.. not while being held at knifepoint." Morgana glanced at the weapon resting precariously on her jugular. Any more pressure and the edge would puncture the skin.

Joker narrowed his eyes but guided Morgana over to the kitchen island by her arm after thinking things over. He wanted to hear what she had to say.

He pushed her towards a barstool and leaned down right in her face.

He hoped his fear tactics weren't rusty from misuse yet Morgana looked ready to pass out. His presence alone had her on edge.

"Start. Talking." Joker ordered.

Morgana nodded and closed her eyes. He wasn't giving her any time to react to any of this. She was face to face with the infamous Joker inside her friend's apartment. It was a lot to digest. Just what business did he have with you?

But suddenly, everything made sense.

The reason why you became so secretive out of the blue. Why you denied having relations with Bruce Wayne, how you survived the attack at The Prosperity, and why you wanted privacy at your apartment, now more so than ever. She thought back to when this all started; right after Joker escaped from Arkham Asylum.

You were keeping Joker a secret this entire time right under everyone's nose.

Morgana had to give you props; you did an amazing job but she still had to ask.

"Before I start, I have to know. Are you just using her or are you and Y/n like.. together together?" She made a lewd gesture with her hands. Joker wasn't amused. He clicked his blade back out with a sigh.

"I won'T ask again. Talk or the uhh knife? This one! It comes back." He shook it playfully and its sharp edge gleamed in the kitchen's overhead lights.

Joker wouldn't hesitate plunging the knife into her neck. The clean up would be a pain but nothing he couldn't handle. If she didn't want to willingly talk then things could shift to a more tortuous method of communication.

It was all up to Morgana to decide. Comply or be difficult. He let her mull it over.

Watching Joker's fiddle with his knife was enough to get her talking. This madman would not hesitate in killing her and she knew it. She'd tell him anything as long as that knife kept a safe distance from her. "I'll talk."

Morgana sighed in relief when Joker backed off.

"Okay, wow um, you might wanna sit down for this. It's.. a lot to take in. Ugh, where do I start?"

Joker watched Morgana stall and decided to help her along. He sighed and pulled up a seat in front of her.

"Let's start... righhhht after Florence left yesterday." Joker fixed his suit collar before crossing his ankles. Morgana was in disbelief by his extensive knowledge of the situation.

"How do you...?" Joker sent her a glare.

"You're right, I don't wanna know. Okay, so apparently Florence knows about you and Y/n. F__k, I do too! This is crazy. You and Y/n.. are dating. Anyways, Flo stormed out of the apartment with Neo hot on her heels. It was crazy with everyone talking over themselves and Y/n fainted but thankfully Bruce caught her. We were so worried about her but when she came to, she was still hung up on Florence. Then Y/n and Dick were yelling at each other until her mom broke them up."

Morgana ran a hand through her silk press. This was a lot harder to explain than she thought.

She quite honestly didn't know if The Joker wanted a short summary or a detailed explanation but she continued nonetheless. She chose to info dump to save her own hide.

"We all went into the kitchen– Y/n's parents, Barbs and I, while Y/n, Dick, and Bruce were still arguing in the dining room. Y/n walked past all angry at something Grayson said and slammed her bedroom door close but her mom left us in the kitchen to bring Y/n a plate of dessert. I guess they patched things up. They were up in her room for the—"

Joker had to interrupt. "Y/n let someone into her room?"

Morgana slowly nodded. He had been quiet as she rambled, she wasn't expecting him to interrupt to clarify such a useless detail.

"Yeah, it was her mom so guess it was okay? Well, now that I think about it, Y/n didn't appreciate them 'invading her safe space.' Her words not mine. It was around that time we all decided on staying over for a sleepover and Y/n made sure we were all situated before going to bed. I swear everything was fine when we went to sleep but we woke up to Y/n screaming her head off."

Morgana began to tear up. Joker felt indifferent to the sight since it wasn't your tears. Seeing Morgana's just annoyed him.

She took a deep breath and Joker knew she was getting to the important part.

"When we got to the balcony, Y/n was fighting with Bruce and crying her heart out. She was reliving everything that happened that night and... h-hey woah!! Where are you going?!"

Morgana panicked when Joker shifted to get up from his chair. She blocked his path and he eyed her in disgust.

"Move." Joker could not stand Wayne and his obvious lovesick attraction to you.

You had relations with Bruce that Joker didn't know about and it irked him to have competition for your love.

It was already bad enough that Wayne was at your apartment, that he spent the night, and then had the audacity to put his hands on you. But he messed up by making you cry. The man was begging for death at this point.

Joker would enjoy murdering Gotham City's most upstanding citizen. He already had a thousand ways to do it brewing inside his head. However, Morgana was in his way.

She hesitantly pushed him back and apologized when Joker gave her a harsh glare. Note to self: do not touch the psychotic clown, she thought.

She tried to calm down his murderous campaign by telling the truth.

"It wasn't Bruce! He was only trying to help!" Joker rolled his eyes (what help has Wayne ever been) but she put her foot down and continued.

"IF YOU STOP JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS AND LET ME FINISH, YOU WOULD UNDERSTAND!" She slapped her hands over her mouth and looked up at Joker.

She did not just yell at this man. Morgana did some questionable things in her life but that had to be the most reckless of them all. She glanced towards the bedroom and hoped that she wasn't too loud.

Joker was seriously considering snapping her neck for raising her voice at him.

His patience was thin today and this girl was testing it to the limits. Although he was curious as to why she stifled her voice.

He followed her gaze and eyed her quizzically. Morgana answered his unspoken question.

She dropped her hand, "Y/n is sleeping. It took forever to calm her down last night."

Joker closed his eyes and sighed. He was so busy handling the Florence situation with Neo last night, he didn't stop and check on you. And that proved to be a big mistake.

Once again, when you needed Joker the most, he was nowhere to be found. His sweet Bunny was terrified last night and had to rely on Wayne of all people for comfort. Joker had failed you yet again. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

He assumed guilt and vowed to atone for his failure in blood.

"Uhhh what, errrr rather who made her cry? Who I'm killing?" Joker asked out of the blue.

He sat back down on the barstool and Morgana eyed him briefly as she thought over her answer. If she told the truth, then he would go out and start a murdering spree.

"No one I think? Like I said, Y/n was in total hysterics last night. Her parents knew exactly what to do to calm her down from her episode. She... she had a panic attack about the night she was—" Morgana stopped and looked away.

The most important part and she couldn't say it aloud. She fought back tears and faced Joker.

He needed to know but the words were caught in her throat.

Joker wasn't a fool. Something was hurting his Bunny that he didn't know about. Correction; He knew something from your past still haunted you for a while now.

There were signs that he picked up during his brief time with you.

You were a recluse despite being so young and you avoided all types of human interaction outside of your close circle of friends. He also noted you did not have any male friends, except for the Grayson boy.

You visibly became uncomfortable around the opposite sex. Him included at times.

Joker knew about your claustrophobia and anxiety in tight spaces. He noticed you would eye him warily when the two of you would take the elevator, or that you preferred open floor plans, and most of all– he remembered the conversation the two of you shared after he rescued you from Two Face's warehouse.

Joker couldn't ignore the fact that another man was on top of you earlier. "Did he.. uh you know.." Joker brushed your thigh in passing.

"No and could you just drop it? I-I don't want to be a victim again."

And Joker would be a fool not to remember the comment you made as he prepared to take you for the first time that same night.

"Um.. almost two years. B-Before I moved to Gotham. It's one of the reasons why I moved." You met Joker's knowing gaze and weakly smiled. "It's in the past. I'm okay. Really. You can touch me.. I ahh I like it when you do."

Two years. You didn't want to be a victim again. You moved to a different city to get away from the trauma someone inflicted on you.

You liked Joker's touch but it took him forever to acclimate you to it without flinching.

You still did every now and then but he paid it no mind since you would relax after a second or two. Joker noticed every little thing about his Light but he dismissed all the warnings signs.

The truth was right there. He was just too selfish to address them.

All the times he was too rough in bed or grabbed you unexpectedly, came crashing down on him. What if he pressured you into something you didn't want? What if he triggered old wounds and made things worse?

His Light, his ray of hope in this bleak existence of his, deserved to be happy and loved.

Without your smiling face by his side, Joker would be a ruthless madman again; only wishing for the world to burn with no true endgame in sight.

He spent too much time bathed in your light to return to his pointless crusade. What a lonely life he lived before you came and gave it purpose.

Joker didn't know what to do with the fact that his Light was miserable inside.

Morgana watched him slip down a mental rabbit hole. He looked lost in thought as a weight settled over his brow.

She wondered what you saw in the man but the longer she stared, she could see some of the appeal. He was hot if she squinted. Joker obviously cared a great deal about you and his eyes were a complex shade of green that Morgana had never seen before.

You had a thing for eyes.. but the fact you made someone like The Joker have feelings for another human being was an achievement in itself.

Morgana hated to interrupt his thoughts but she finally found the courage to continue. She cleared her throat to continue but Joker cut her off.

"Don'T say it. I know. I've.... known for a while now." He swept his arm across the kitchen counter and sent items crashing to the floor.

Morgana jumped at the unexpected action and watched Joker stand up and begin pacing the room, mumbling to himself.

He was about to start breaking more things when Morgana stole his attention.

"Now you see why I asked you earlier?" Joker shot her a glare. She swiftly changed her tone. "Are you just using Y/n... or are you going to be there for her? Y/n needs us, all of us, and if you're just using her, I'm sorry but I can't allow that!"

Joker laughed, "What are ya gonna do, hmm? Stop me? Now.. that? That is funny. But don't worry– I'm not using Y/n.. I lov—"

Joker stopped himself mid sentence and Morgana caught onto what he almost said. Her jaw dropped in disbelief.

You could hear the fridge humming in the background, it was so quiet in the kitchen.

"O-Oh. Well, um that wasn't on my monthly bingo card but alrighty now." Morgana fell back onto the barstool.

This was awkward. She stole a glance at the criminal frozen in place as he registered what he just confessed to.

He finally almost said it aloud. He'd been struggling for days to tell you in person but managed to say it to your friend, no sweat. She had to die now. No one could know he had feelings.

Joker turned his head like an owl and Morgana instantly picked up on his murderous intent.

She moved so there was an island counter in between Joker and her. She valued her life, thank you very much.

"Hey now! No need to get all murder stabby stabby on me! T-That's amazing! H-have you told Y/n yet?"

Joker curled his lip. "No. Where is she?" He glanced down the hall and was about to storm off when Morgana flailed her arms.

"Wait! Don't wake her up!!" Her shout worked in getting Joker's attention but now she had to do damage control. Joker did not like her ordering him around. Morgana could work on establishing an acquaintance later, your health was more important.

"You can't just drop an L bomb after everything that's happened, are you crazy?! Now is not the time and news flash! She doesn't need— Uh excuse you?! Hey, are you listening to me?"

Morgana dashed down the hallway to catch up to Joker. She slipped past him and blocked the door frame with her body. "Listen to what I'm saying!"

Joker eyed her like a pest. Did she seriously think she could stop him?

"Y/n can't stand men right now. She drew blood trying to get away from Bruce and she couldn't tolerate her own father's presence. You don't know what her ex did to her. You don't want to see her like this."

Joker stared at Morgana as her warning sank in.

If he had any clue what your sorry excuse for an ex did, then you needed someone to comfort you more than ever. Isolation was the last thing you needed right now.

As someone who frequently battled voices inside of his head, silence was the enemy and made matters worse. Joker knew that for a fact that you don't handle separation well, so why did Morgana think leaving you to your thoughts was a good idea?

It was a recipe for disaster.

He understood why you're terrified of men but you never feared him before. Why start now?

Joker smacked his lips and shoved Morgana aside. She yelped as he opened the bedroom door and glanced around.

Same original hardwood floors, same vegan cowhide rug.

The leather couch with two accent chairs, one slate grey, the other sage green, were still over in the corner by the electric fireplace and the view of Grant Park from outside was half obscured by the curtains. A single beam of sunlight was the only source of light within the room.

Everything was the same yet vastly off due to the fact that your aura wasn't thriving in the room.

It felt cold and bereft of life.

Joker was eyeing the open closet door when he saw something shift on the bed.

There was a sizable lump in the middle but he recognized the shape from anywhere. You were buried underneath the covers and doing your best impression of a blanket burrito. He could tell that you were awake.

You were timid but curious of the presence that entered the room. Subtle movements revealed you were tracking his every footfall.

Joker exhaled before walking over to stand beside the bed. He rather rip the band-aid off than freak you out by stalling.

Morgana picked herself up from off the floor and entered the room, only for Joker's eyes to force her back out.

She understood the message within the greenish hue.

"I was neva here." She said as she walked backwards out the door. It clicked shut behind her.

With her gone, Joker could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He wasn't out of the woods just yet since Morgana would surely stay inside the apartment, (little did he know, she was cupping her ear to the door, trying to eavesdrop) but he could be more forward with his actions. It was a relief that your rooms were soundproof; Joker had a lot on his mind.

"I know you're awake."

The pile of covers flinched and shrunk in on itself. Joker shrugged off his coat and tossed it onto the leather couch. It landed heavily with a distinct metal clank.

"You probably need, uhh, space but I can't leave ya alone. NoT now. I'm here. If you need me." Joker sank a knee onto the bed and crept forward until he bumped against you. He heard the sharp inhale you made upon contact and wisely backed off.

You were a gentle soul both inside and out. You didn't deserve to be frightened of something as simple as human touch. He wanted nothing more than to spoil you with affection, however Joker would be patient and regain your trust again. You were worth the wait.

Just like the bunny he named you after, he would wait until you came crawling out of your hiding hole, curious to explore.

And just like he expected, you slowly poked your head from out of the covers before looking around the room. He stayed out of your eyesight so he wouldn't startle you, but somehow, you knew he was there.

It wasn't that dark in the room but he was hesitant to turn on a light until you asked him to.

"W-Who's t-there?" You turned your head and locked eyes with pools of jade.

Joker didn't move a muscle as you lookedbut didn't fully see him. He noticed you shaking. You probably saw someone else with your unstable mind.

"Y/n, it's me." J waved at you but you shrunk back further into the covers.

He had to think fast and jog your memory. He was the one that gave you a slew of nicknames but you didn't have one for him. He was just J.

Not very helpful in this current predicament.

Joker still had his makeup on and it would remain until Morgana left the penthouse for good. It eliminated him from showing you the constellation of freckles you loved so much on his face. That for sure would restart your memory.

What was something the two of you shared that could help familiarize Joker to you?

He had yet to give you anything of sentimental value so he striked that off the list. He was shifting his weight on the bed when you tensed.

Your nose flexed just like a bunny, he thought it was cute.

"I should ahhh–"

You cut Joker off. "Lighter fluid and something.. metallic. It.. it smells like that when I'm safe with.. J? Where, w-where were you? Why didn't you stop him..?"

There were many things in this life that Joker overcame. He been in the world's most toughest jails, endured inhumane torture methods, and fought against the greatest superheroes and lived to tell the tale. Yet despite all of those feats, he was brought to his knees at the sight of your tears time and time again.

They were daggers straight to his heart. He couldn't bear seeing his Light in so much pain but despite the agony, he couldn't look away.

You clung tighter to the comforter around you.

"I-I don't know what's r-real anymore! I can hear him telling me it's okay but it's your hands hurting me. You wouldn't do that! Your hands are warm w-with callouses on the palms and index fingers. I begged you to stop! Why won't you s-stop?! Please.. just.. Why weren't you there when I needed you?"

Joker hated to admit it, but Morgana was right. He didn't need to see you like this.

He was living in a nightmare seeing his precious bunny struggling to see the truth. Your mind was all mixed up, fighting both the past and the present.

He had to do something although he didn't know what.

"I.. I wasn't here last night, but uhh, I'm here now. C'mon, Y/n, tell me what ya need me to do."

Joker would give you the world on a silver platter if you asked for it, but he felt utterly useless watching you spiral into madness. His heart stopped beating after he heard your watery plea.

"It hurts, please stop." You weren't thinking clearly and he began to worry when you started to breathe erratically.

He couldn't sit around and watch you suffer. Joker threw all caution to the wind and pulled you in for a hug, covers and all.

At first you resisted– Joker thought he messed up big time– but you sagged further in his arms and buried your face into his chest.

You grabbed fists full of J's suit and inhaled.

The unique cocktail that only Joker possessed, helped you recognize who held you tightly. You sobbed knowing that your Dark Prince was finally here. You thought Joker abandoned you.

"I don't want him to come back, please don't go!" You looked up at Joker.

Your big e/c were frantically staring into his. He sighed and tucked a wayward curl back into place under your bonnet– for once, you didn't flinch, rather you leaned into his touch. Your cheek felt so cold against his hand.

Something in J gave way to the moment.

"If you'll, uh let meee, I'll never let you go. Is that okay?" Joker asked. You looked away and he quickly added. "I won't do anything else, doll. I just wanna be.. here for ya. Let me ahh hold you so... he.. doesn't hurt ya. I won't leave you."

You bit your lip. Joker's arms were soothing for now but you were wary of them.

He could turn violent at a moment's notice. "You promise you won't hurt me?"

You gasped when Joker rested his forehead against yours. It didn't matter that his white paint transferred onto your skin. You weren't expecting such a sweet gesture from him.

It pained him to hear your plea. He feared you were broken beyond repair. But Joker could fix you; he could fix anything if given enough time.

"I'd let Bats drag me back to Arkham Asylum before I'd lay a finger on ya. Never again." He kept eye contact with you as he grabbed your hand. You surprised yourself by letting him do it.

Baby steps, Joker thought to himself. His eyes squeezed shut as he kissed the fading scar that he made on your palm.

You saw the anguish take hold of his features. Since when was Joker so open to show his emotions?

Joker dropped his usual dialect and talked to you straight. You knew he was serious when his voice also dropped an octave.

Gone was the clown that Gotham City feared, this was just J, a man secretly in love, speaking to you in the hushed air of your room.

"You're my Light. My everything." He used your fingers in his grasp to wipe your tears away.

More rushed to the surface hearing his sincere words but he diligently kept wiping. "These tears I swear, they'll be the death of me. I know it's scary and you have every right to fear me, but if you don't remember anything else– know this Y/n." He waited until you looked at him.

A kaleidoscope of green greeted you and you swore you would never be the same.

"I will never hurt you again. I promise."

Joker whispered your name when you lost concentration and he patiently waited until you looked into his eyes again.

They pleaded with you to understand the unspoken truths his heart was too weak to voice.

Screw what Morgana said about bad timing. He wanted you to know. He had to tell you the truth. Joker cupped your face, "Y/n, I lo—"

You wanted to hear what Joker had to say but your eyes grew heavy all of a sudden. The last thing you ate was that plate of sugar Mom brought you last night. Your body burned through it and demanded more fuel to keep you functioning.

You were dehydrated and your mind and body were running on fumes. You couldn't keep up, so you crashed.

Joker panicked when your body swayed slightly before you fell back. You were unconscious by the time he could react.

He cursed at his failed attempt but recovered quickly to dote on you. Declarations of love would have to wait. His Light was running the risk of being sick.

Joker laid you down and tucked you into bed properly before heading over to the door. Much to his surprise Morgana was there, doing a terrible job of hiding that she was eavesdropping.

She pretended to straighten the abstract artwork hanging outside the guest bedroom as Joker walked by.

She glanced inside and saw you sleeping but knew something happened behind closed doors.

Instead of being a blanket burrito, you were tucked in bed like Sleeping Beauty with the pillows and covers around you almost picturesque.

Joker had a soft side after all. She just witnessed it firsthand.

Maybe she should tell him everything your parents disclosed last night after all. By the time she caught up to Joker in the living room, he was mid-call.

He saw her approaching and held up a finger.

Morgana dealt with many rude people in her line of work but Joker was probably the rudest of them all.

"... Mmhm, make sure she's discreet this time. One of Y/n's friends is still here. Yeah.. about that.." Joker locked eyes with Morgana. "She's alive. For now."

She froze on the spot. What did for now mean? Was there some kind of 'how to stay alive' program she needed to know about? He had some nerve and this was the man who claimed to love you.

How comforting.

Morgana bounced on the balls of her feet hoping to be acknowledged soon.

Joker discussed some more minor details with one of his henchmen before hanging up. His eyes then flickered over to the vibrant bouquet of flowers Morgana was working on.

She thought he would destroy her hard work but he leaned over to sniff the delicate flora instead.

"For Y/n?" He scanned the work for any imperfections; there weren't any.

He wanted nothing but the best for his bunny. He stared at Morgana, arching an eyebrow when she didn't respond.

"Y–Yeah." Morgana said, "I'm not finished yet! It's gonna be double in size with more Queen Anne lace and roses to r-round it all out. Y/n loves roses and the Eucalyptus will be good for her exhaustion. Its scent is known for its aromatherapy powers plus its good for rejuvenating the spirit and overall elevating one's mood."

Joker nodded and backed off. It was nice to know one of your friends was looking out for you in your time of need.

He was wary of keeping Morgana alive but she was proving to be 'good people' as you had a habit of saying. A far cry from Florence.

Joker grumbled to himself just thinking about the Haitian.

Morgana jumped hearing a rare chuckle from the dark clown. "She'll like them. Now! Let's dis-cuss you. Sit."

Joker clapped his hands and pointed to the blue couch in your living room. He didn't wait for Morgana to act, he was already walking towards the kitchen to grab a water.

He noticed the leftovers in your fridge as he rummaged around for a drink. You probably needed to eat but he'd wait for the doc to look you over and decide what's best.

He snagged two water bottles and headed back to the living room but arrived to witness Morgana swirling a tumbler glass in her hands.

She took a big swig from it as he sat down opposite of her in an accent chair.

She wiped her mouth and tried to explain, "Don't judge me. I need hard liquor after all of this. Want one? I'm great at mixing drinks." She shimmied her shoulders but Joker wasn't amused.

He heard stories from Y/n about Morgana. Her and Florence were the heavy drinkers of the group.

"Y/n doesn't keep alcohol in her apartment." He noted.

Morgana laughed once and polished off her drink. She set it on the coffee table that separated them both. She noticed the clown was right at home in your place but had yet to find her and Flo's numerous stashes of liquor.

"What Y/n doesn't know won't kill her." She failed to dodge the water bottle Joker threw at her face. "OW! What was that for?!"

He sipped on the water while rolling his eyes. Morgana rubbed at her cheek and waited for the clown to finish. He drank the entire bottle in one pull before recapping the top and setting it down.

"Y/n likes to recycle. Ya know- saving the.. turtles, uhh, one plastic at a time. That's my Light. Always caring for others; failing to take care of herself."

"Isn't she caring for you until you no longer need her?" She interrupted.

Joker licked his scars. Have patience. No need to take your frustrations out on others, he heard your voice recite in his head. He took a deep breath before smiling at Morgana.

"I'm noT leaving Y/n so that means I have to, uhh, geT along with the people in her life. So! This can be a lit-le experiment of sorts between usss. Let's see how long you can keep your mouth shut and I'll.... see how long I can tolerate you without murdering ya! Deal?"

Morgana was at a loss for words. What kind of agreement was that?

"I need another drink." She sighed. Joker's laugh was far more creepier in person than on tv.

The sound of the doorbell startled Morgana out of her task. She set the spray bottle down and jogged over to the front door to answer it.

She was pleasantly surprised when a beautiful woman was standing outside, chewing on bubble gum with an attitude.

"Can I help you?" Morgana asked.

The female looked up from her phone and glanced down the short hallway, at the elevator, and then back at Morgana.

"Tis boy better not have given me da wrong address. Hold on." She dialed a number and brought it to her ear.

Morgana was left awkwardly holding the door when the mysterious woman began arguing with whoever she called.

The commotion gained Joker's attention all the way in the living room. He recognized the woman at the door instantly. She did the same the moment she spotted Joker.

"Well well! If it isn't my sorry excuse for a patient! I see you're not restin' your leg like I told ya." She sighed.

Joker smiled and leaned on the door frame. "Be glad I didn't kill you after my checK up, doc." He fired back.

Morgana glanced back and forth between the two. "Uhh do you two know each other or something?"

The woman looked Morgana dead in the eye. "I don't know who this man is. I mean, he could be walking down the street, I wouldn't. Sorry to this man."

Joker laughed and she joined along but swatted his hands away when he tried to grab her neck.

The pair walked inside, leaving Morgana utterly confused in the foyer. She watched them talk amongst themselves like two old friends and caught up to them mid sentence.

"..and her hands are sooooo cold, doc. She's been crying her little heart out and passed out in my arms. Whatever can ya do?" Joker pouted as he held the bedroom door open for his esteemed guest.

She walked in and looked around. Leave it for Joker to find some chick with money. She sat her bag down on a nearby table and dug through it for some gloves.

"Sounds like dehydration. When's the last time she ate?"

Morgana walked in and answered for Joker, "Last night around eight ish? It was a plate of dessert but she ate dinner too. Hi, I'm her friend and you are?"

"Name's Sarai. I'm this idiot's on-call doc." Sarai dabbed Morgana up before facing her employer. "Now, where's my patient?"

Joker was too busy stewing in jealousy. He liked secret handshakes too. What gives?

"You don't do that with me doc. I thought we were errr close."

She eyed him like a fed up mother would her child. "You ain't black, Joker. Now move." She pushed him aside and approached the bed, but stopped as if she saw a ghost.

She treated hundreds of patients a day but she never forgot a face. "I remember her."

Sarai picked up your hands and sure enough, the jagged cut that she treated almost a month ago was still there. Your hands were cold to the touch just like Joker said and also a bit clammy.

"Did you do this?" She pointed at your palms. Joker sat down by your side and had the decency to look ashamed. He sighed before nodding.

Both Sarai and Morgana stared at him in disbelief. He looked so remorseful.

Joker was such a man child at times. One would have thought Sarai scolded him with the way he was acting. She flicked her braids over her shoulder with a huff.

Today they were blonde butterfly locs reaching down to her waist. When she shook her head, they moved with her. Joker eyed them curiously. How did she work in the hospital with such long braids?

"I knew I shoulda filed a police report. Her shoddy story bout mistakin' the pepper grinder for a knife was too sketchy."

She donned her pink gloves before she gently opened your mouth. "Ah, as I thought. She's dehydrated. You want an IV in her?"

Morgana stood on the other side of the bed to watch this interaction up close. There was actually a person not afraid of The Joker!

This supposed doctor was talking to him any kind of way and he paid her no mind. She would demand something out of her bag and he would grab it, no questions asked.

But he pushed Morgana to the ground and threw water bottles at her when she raised her voice at him. This man was truly unpredictable.

Morgana let her intrusive thoughts get the better of her. "So you're a real doctor and you willingly work for him?"

She slapped a hand over her mouth after she spoke but it was too late. Sarai was inserting an IV into your arm but chuckled at the insult. She admired her handiwork before replying.

"Dr. Sarai Obukofe, chief trauma surgeon at Gotham General. Joker's house calls pays more tho. Don't give me dat look. I'm from Blüdhaven, his crimes ain't nothin' n' Jokester here won't hurt friends of da family. Won't ya now?" She nudged his leg with her own.

Joker hummed. It was neither affirmative or negative.

Morgana slowly nodded. She picked up the thick Blüdhaven accent at the door but she was still confused.

"Friends of the family?" She questioned.

Sarai rigged the IV bag to your bedpost. It would have to do since she didn't pack an IV pole. Not like she could.

This was an off the books house call after all. She received a text from her cousin saying to come to an address with her crash kit– strictly on the low.

Sarai automatically knew it was for Joker. She couldn't refuse the job even if today was her rare day off.

She blew a bubble and popped it sharply before eyeing Joker. "How deep is she?" She jerked her head at Morgana.

Joker didn't look away from you to answer. "Accident. I'm con-sider-ing offing her later."

Sarai grimaced and cast sympathetic eyes on Morgana. "Ouch, so an outsider then."

She checked you over when you began to shiver. "Frost mentioned on the phone that she had a 'traumatic experience.' Care ta explain that?"

Morgana had enough. She cut through the air with her hand in a fit of rage.

"No, no! Go back! I thought we had a deal, Joker! We shared a drink together, you said you'd keep me alive if I helped you with this 'get along with others' experiment of yours. Now you're thinking about killing me again? Make up your mind!"

Joker was about to when you whimpered and stole everyone's attention. They were being too loud.

"You're disturbing my patient. Either lower ya voice or move dis conversation elsewhere." Sarai hissed at Morgana.

The florist was trying to keep her cool. These two strangers just barged into your place as if they owned it and had the audacity to boss her around!

She couldn't even defend herself! Morgana wished she'd let Dick stay behind instead. He probably would've handled this situation a bit better than her. Sure he would've fought with Joker and possibly died in the process, but he wouldn't have sided with the madman to stay alive. GCPD would have the place surrounded with Batman en route by now.

She had half a mind to sneak away and call the authorities but one look at you had her second guessing that decision.

The last thing you needed was more stress and strangers surrounding you and your space. You required peace and quiet to heal.

But this clown was on thin f__king ice with her.

It was a lot to handle on a Friday afternoon and Morgana wasn't about to let Joker or this doctor mess with her energy. She took a relaxing breath and found her center.

"I will not let your indecisiveness get the better of me. However if we're to get along– whatever the hell that means, you gotta stop threatening to kill me." Morgana said.

Joker looked at Sarai as if she had the answers.

The doctor was putting away her tools and had no parts in this. She'd stick around until Joker called her back to remove the IV. Other than that, her job was done.

That is until you groaned and blinked your eyes open.

Everyone held their breath in anticipation. You squinted your eyes a few times until you felt a tightness on your forearm.

Much to your horror there was a hospital IV inserted in your vein. You began to claw at it when Joker reached out and stopped you.

"Hey. Hey.. leave thaT alone, baby doll." Your eyes darted up to him.

It took you longer than he liked to recognize him again, but you were slowly coming back to yourself.

"J.. it's cold." Your fingernail picked at the tape Sarai attached to keep the needle in place.

You hated doctors and you hated medical treatment. It reminded you too much of that night and the following weeks thereafter. You didn't want to think about it again, and Joker was right there to distract you from it all.

His hand rested atop yours and squeezed. He felt like a furnace. He sighed, "I knooow but, it's gonna make ya feel better. You uhh want me to hold you? Promise I'm warm, hmm?"

His thumb rubbed circles on your darker skin as you thought over his offer. You relented with a weak nod.

Joker stood up to climb into the bed with you but looked up at something within the room.

"Close the door on your way out. Now."

You wondered who he was talking to and followed his gaze. You and Morgana locked eyes. She was calm, way too calm to be in Joker's presence and the crazy part– he allowed her to be.

Your eyes went back and forth between her and Joker as the wheels in your brain spun out of control. Surely this was a dream.

There was no way Joker would let another one of your friends in on his secret. Then you spotted a third individual standing off to the side. She looked familiar but you couldn't place her at present.

Your mind was too busy grasping at the reality of Joker and Morgana being in the same room without the latter being murdered.

That dream you had of a little boy by the river whispered in your mind.

'She knows and now she has to die.'

He wasn't talking about Florence. He was referring to Morgana.

You shot forward and grabbed a hold Joker's suit vest in a surprisingly strong grip. He looked down at you in intrigue as you started spouting nonsense.

"Not her! Please don't kill her Joker! She's my friend. Y-You promised me!" You were leaving wrinkles in Joker's shirt as Morgana rounded the bed to enter your line of vision.

"Y/n! Calm down, I'm right here! I'm okay!" She stole your attention but it came with a price. You let go of Joker to whirl on Morgana. It was her turn to hiss at your vice-like grip.

"You can't be here! You have to leave Gana. You didn't see nothing! Deny everything! Please.. I-I can't lose you too. I can't lose another friend.. Please."

You sobbed into her arms and she glared at Joker who was still standing off to the side, speechless.

He was coping with the fact you begged him not to kill someone and that he felt obligated to obey.

He wasn't going to let Morgana leave the apartment building alive but the moment you begged him, Joker's hands were tied. He promised he'd never hurt you. That meant physically, mentally, and emotionally. You stopped The Joker with three simple words.

You promised me.

He stood frozen, awaiting your next orders for he truly did not know what to do after discovering the power you held over him.

Morgana managed to get you to lie back on the bed as your burst of adrenaline died out. You felt sluggish all of a sudden.

Sarai stood watch as the pain meds she added to your IV line started to kick in. You fought against the fog and looked over at Joker.

His eyes instantly found yours and thus the staring match began. Your drugged induced gaze had a clear warning in them and you made sure to declare it vocally.

"You hurt my friends.. and I'll never.. forgive you." You fell back asleep and the room breathed a sigh of relief.

Joker feared nothing in this life but your warning hit him like a ton of bricks. He hoped you would forget all of this when you woke up.

If not, then he was in deep trouble.

#ledger joker x reader #ledger joker #black!fem!reader #heath ledger #reader insert #joker x y/n #joker x reader #romance #angst #cross posted on wattpad #cross posted on ao3 #heath joker #mental health #dark knight joker #his lighthouse

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