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arbitrarykiwi · 4 months ago

Text

Etched in Ink

Nam-gyu x TattooArtist!Pierced!Fem! Reader Smut Fic

Summary: when Nam-gyu decides it’s time for a tattoo, he asks his best friend, Thanos, where he goes. Thanos raves about his tattoo artist and urges Nam-gyu to schedule an appointment with you. Nam-gyu could not prepare himself for the fact this highly praised tattoo artist is so fucking hot.

Warnings: smut (18+) , reader is described as being tattooed , reader has piercings (tongue, nipple, clit) , oral (f receiving) , p in v sex , creampie , name calling (i think whore like once) , dirty talk , read at your own risk

When Thanos told him that he knows a “fucking crazy good” tattoo artist, he was intrigued.

Nam-gyu had his fair share of ink, multiple pieces littering his skin in intricate vibrant lines. But, he got all the ones he had from some shady underground parlor or even someone’s basement. With the new desire to have the tattoo needle against his skin again, this time with an idea for something much larger than what he gotten before- he decided it was time to find someone a bit more reputable.

So he asked Thanos- the purple hair rapper having a large tattoo of his name down his back, the lines are crisp, the black ink rich and even- simple as the design was, Nam-gyu couldn’t lie, the attention to detail and the skill of the artist was apparent.

Thanos was quick to boast about his tattoo and the artist he got it from, telling Nam-gyu he just had to take him to the place he goes to, to see the specific artist he went to. And hell, with how serious Thanos seemed about his holy grail of a tattoo artist- he agreed.

So he made an appointment on your website. It was easy enough, you had quick availability. So he set a date, paid the deposit and waited (not so) patiently for the tattoo day to arrive. It was late appointment, 8pm. Which was something Nam-gyu appreciated, as an insomniac he preferred to do stuff during the night- and a late night tattoo session sounded like just what he needed.

Thanos had brought him, claiming he just wanted to see you anyway, despite not getting a tattoo himself. Sure, Nam-gyu thought that was odd, he didn’t see why Thanos would want to go out of his way to see a tattoo artist for no reason, but he thought it had to be you were just a chill dude.

But when he walked into the shop with Thanos, and you came up to greet them. He was floored.

You were obviously a female…very obviously. You wore a black tank top, hemmed with lace. It’s tight fitting and low cut, he can’t help but stare at your cleavage and the chest tattoos that litter your skin. He thinks they accentuate one another in the most perfect way.

Your hair was pulled back and you were drying off your hands. He could see tattoos along your arms and hands, spaced out and each eye catching in their own right. He assumed your legs must be the same even though he couldn’t see them due to your pants.

“Hey! You must be Nam-gyu.” You say with a smile. Thanos looks over to Nam-gyu, eyes saying everything. ‘See this is what I was talking about’

Not only were you a good tattoo artist, you were so fucking hot. Nam-gyu gathers himself, nodding his head slowly, “Y-yeah.” He says clearing his throat, a pathetic attempt to hide his surprise and dry mouth.

“Perfect! I’m actually so excited, I really like the ideas you sent me.” You say waving the both of them over to your station. He finds it endearing the way you talk so excitedly about his tattoo. He sent you various pictures of what he wanted, a sharp, detailed, abstract line style tattoo that was planned to start on his arm, go up his shoulder and to his chest.

Your voice and kind tone is such a drastic contrast from your physical appearance- a vixen. You were dangerous. Such a kind sweet face and voice with a body that was straight sin.

He starts to think that Thanos set him up. He knew you were this hot, and knew Nam-gyu wanted a chest piece, now he has to deal with you touching on his chest. Fucking great. He’s bringing his hand up to his mouth, silently laughing in a sardonic manner to himself. He was so fucked.

You’re so short compared to him, looking up at him as you talk, gesturing to the tattoo chair for him to sit down. He follows your orders. You sit down across from him on a circular stool, grabbing your iPad to show him the design you came up with.

“You need me to get you a seat, Thanos?” You call over your shoulder, not even looking up from your tablet. Nam-gyu looks over to Thanos who is not so subtly checking you out. It was like Thanos was undressing you with his eyes. Nam-gyu couldn’t blame him.

“Nah I’m good cutie, just came to drop him off.” Thanos says, you laugh and stick your tongue out playfully. Nam-gyu thinks all the blood he was fighting not to rush to his cock was a fight he was not going to win. On your pink tongue was a silver ball- you had a tongue ring. Jesus Christ, you were going to kill him before you even got the stencil on.

“Alright then get going, don’t need you just standing there. He’s a big boy, got some tattoos before. He’ll be fine. I’m not gonna bite.” You say turning back to Nam-gyu and winking. He sucks in a deep breath and nervously chuckles, shifting in the seat to hopefully conceal the growing erection in his pants.

“Mhm…” Thanos says, finally pulling his eyes away from the view of your back and the red lace thing that was peeking out from your jeans. “Don’t fuck him up too bad, he’s still gotta pay his rent tomorrow.” Thanos says with a teasing grin, looking to Nam-Gyu with a devious grin. He definitely knew what he was doing bringing Nam-Gyu here.

“I won’t mess him up…too bad…” You tease as you begin to put on your gloves. Nam-gyu inwardly groans, even your gloves are pink. You’re like a cute princess in the body of a succubus…he was not going to make it through this session. He’s looking up to the ceiling, saying a silent prayer to himself to try and calm down the erection that’s threatening to become obvious. “I’ll take real good care of him.”

Nam-gyu kisses his teeth, sucking in a shuddering breath he’s thankful you don’t hear. His mind is spinning, he swears he heard a purr in your words, like you’re insinuating the same idea that he’s trying to wipe from his mind. He can stop thinking about how you’d look with his cock shoved in your mouth or how you’d look as he fills you to the brim- sinking his cock deep into your pussy. He bets you have the prettiest moans.

He hates his mind- he really does. He never claimed to be a good person but he normally wasn’t this debauched. You’re just a tattoo artist trying to make a living, having friendly banter with clients and here he was thinking about fucking you stupid….yeah great person he was. He thinks that he completely imagined the purr in your voice, he’s just too horny and imagined it.

But when he looks back to Thanos, and sees his expression. Nam-Gyu realizes he didn’t make it up. You did have a distinct tone to your words that even Thanos caught on to. Thanos has an eyebrow raised, like he’s picked up on your words insinuation. His grin widens and he’s winking at Nam-Gyu. “Well then, I’ll take your word for it..” Thanos says in a teasing sing-song voice as he’s crossing the floor and leaving the tattoo shop. “Have fun you two!” The purple haired rapper calls out, like a father seeing off his son and date to prom.

Nam-gyu hears the bell on the shop door ring as it’s opened and closed. Now you two are truly alone. His body feels oh so hot, his pants are uncomfortable and his eyes have not left the ceiling since Thanos walked out. He fears that if he looks at you he might just cum in his pants. He is praising and cursing Thanos simultaneously. Why did Thanos wait so long to show him the work of art personified that was you?! Why did Thanos set him up deliberately?! He couldn’t decide which pissed him off more, the fact Thanos was harboring you like a secret for years or the fact that Thanos deliberately kept you a secret to get Nam-Gyu flustered when all he wanted was a tattoo.

“You want this on your chest and upper arm right?” You say, it brings him out of his trance but he doesn’t look at you. “Mhm.” He says simply, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His eyes nearly roll back into his skull when you giggle and scoot your chair closer to the seat he was laid back on. “You’re gonna need to take this off.” Your fingers pinch his shirt and pull it up teasingly.

Nam-gyu thinks he’s being tested. All the shitty things he’s done in life have led up to this and now he’s put on trial. Forced to act normal when he can’t get over how incredibly sexy you were. It was a real tragedy. He sits up at bit, pulling his shit over his head and balling it up in his lap.

You couldn’t help yourself as your eyes wander over his bare torso. He was fit, not too muscular, not too thin. He was sculpted like some Greek god. You swallow thickly, trying to remain professional as you grab the tattoo stencil.

You scoot your chair close to the bench he’s laid back on. “Just gotta prep the area.” You smile sweetly, leaning over him. He nods, not able to form words as your gloved hands touch his bare chest. You do the prep work, shaving the area and wiping it down. You don’t miss the way his chest shutters with each breath he takes. Anytime your hands come into contact with his chest you can feel how his heartbeat is practically jumping out of his chest.

When you put the stencil down and run your hand along the expanse of his shoulder and chest he is praying you didn’t realize how his eyes rolled into the back of his head. You definitely did, but you didn’t say anything about it.

“Let me know how that looks.” You chirp, bringing him out of the trance you had put him in. He clears his throat and nods, sitting up and hopping off the bench to the walk over to the mirror in your studio. He admires the stencil, it’s an intricate abstract design that spans across his shoulder to his chest. It’s kickass, not only were you built like straight sin, you were a great artist. He sent you many images for inspiration but somehow the design you came up with is even better than any image online he could find.

“Looks good.” He manages to get out, catching your eyes in the mirror. You roll your eyes and raise an eyebrow playfully. “C’mon if there’s anything you wanna change I can fix it. Is the design what you wanted? The placement alright?” You say, he thinks it’s cute how serious you get about your work- wanting to make sure he really likes the ink you’re about to place into his skin. He laughs, as hard and as flustered as you make him; you were so easy to talk to. You had an air of confidence around you that just drew him to you. You were funny, your voice was so sweet, and you were dedicated as a tattooer. Would it be too forward to say fuck the tattoo and just take you on a date now??

He looks at the tattoo again, really looks at it, and he still doesn’t see anything that needs to be changed. “It looks so fucking good. You really did great with the design.” He says genuinely, admiring the blue ink of the stencil that litters his chest. His eyes look back to catch your face in the mirror again, your smile is wide, proud and you’re dancing excitedly in your chair. “Perfect! Sit back down n’ we can get started!” You say oh so happily, it’s such an endearing tone Nam-Gyu thinks he’s going insane. He’s never wanted someone as much as he wanted you.

He follows your orders and settles back down into the seat, it’s slightly leaned back allowing him to sit comfortably and you to have all the room you need to tattoo. He can’t help but to stare shamelessly as you work with the materials in your small corner of the studio, grabbing the ink and needles. You work so effortlessly, he knows you’ve probably done this hundreds of times but you’re so in the zone he feels like he’s watching a movie about a hot tattoo artist. And it’s all a private viewing just for him to see.

You scoot the chair back up next to where he’s sat, tattoo gun in your hand. “Ready?” You ask and he nods, “mhm.” He can’t bring himself to say much else, he’s trying to think about how he’s going to make it through the next couple hours as you’re oh so close to him and touching on his chest. “Yay! Let me know if you need a break or anything.” You say excitedly, he can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face at your cute display of excitement.

When he feels the first sing of the needle in his skin he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It’s a pain that he’s come to love, a way of feeling something when he’s not on drugs. The drawn out bite of the needle for hours on end almost lulls him to sleep most the times he’s gotten tattooed. Each tattoo he gets he thinks adds something to him that he can’t quite place. He would love nothing more than to be sung to sleep by the hum of the tattoo gun and the sting of the needle, but he can’t even focus on that when he feels your hands gliding across his skin so slowly and meticulously.

He adjusts his arms slightly, letting his palms fall into his lap and cup over the bulge that he knows is beginning to form in his pants. Part of him feels guilty, you’re just trying to do your job and here he is acting like a dog in heat. He can’t help it, you are so fucking sexy. It’s not even the ‘sexy’ that he would attribute to pornstars, no not at all. You’re a salacious deity, effortlessly attractive in every minuscule thing you do, a lustrous vixen that’s built out of straight sin. To top it all off, he thinks you don’t even realize it. You exude an innocence that contradicts your seductive appearance. Fuck, you were perfect.

Throughout the tattoo Nam-Gyu thinks he falls harder. You ask him about himself, maybe you were just being cordial and trying to pass the time but with each answer he gives you follow it up with an happy answer and a follow up question. You inquire about his job and when you find out he’s a club promoter you ask where. When you find out he works at Club Pentagon you gasp, “No way! That’s dope as hell! Thanos actually was telling me all about that club, raving about it. So me and my friends went the other week.” You stop tattooing a second to turn back to the tray you had and pick up more ink, “I can’t believe I didn’t see you!” You finish, turning back to him with the cutest pout he’s ever seen.

“When did you go?” He inquires, a smile on his face as he sees your pout turn into a grin. “It was a Thursday, I know, not the best day to go to the club.” You say, already defending yourself playfully. “Well ya’ gotta come on the weekends, hell even Monday’s. ‘S when I work.” Nam-gyu says, it takes so much to work himself up to say it- would it be too forward? Would you think he was weird?

“Well now I’ll only ever go on weekends and Mondays if it means I get to see you.” You muse, immediately going back to tattooing, he can hardly register your words. You were flirting, right?? “Yeah? I can put you on the list, get you VIP.” He hums, eyes trained in the ceiling, trying to slow his heartbeat down because he knows you can feel it. “Oh really?? Would it get us a private room, too?”

You were definitely flirting.

He draws in a sharp breath, one of many since he’s met you, hoping it comes off as just him breathing through a tough spot in the tattoo. “Y-yeah I can arrange that.” He looks down for once, looking at you as you tattoo. You were so focused, your nose scrunching every so often, your tongue poking out in concentration giving him a nice view of the silver tongue ring you had on your pretty pink tongue. God, his cock was so hard.

He tries to think of anything else to get his mind off the lewd things he was thinking. He wasn’t a saint by any means, he would even call himself sleazy. But you weren’t like the other women he’s gotten with, you are so professional and dedicated to your work- probably just flirting to get an extra tip, being friendly- and here he was thinking about bending you over and fucking you dumb.

He has no idea you’re thinking the same thoughts. How could you not?! He was oh so attractive and your hands are moving along his toned pecks. You can see the other tattoos that stain his skin, only adding to his appeal. You also weren’t oblivious- you could see the way his hands are clasped over his crotch, trying to hide the erection that’s definitely in his pants.

As you work you’re squeezing your thighs together, trying to get all the sinful images you have playing in your mind to stop so you can do what you need to- tattoo him. But there’s something about the way that, now, your art is on him. The design that you made is permanently etched into his skin like a brand. The thought makes you dizzy.

It’s a large tattoo, so it takes a long while, the whole time the tension keeps thickening between you two. The more you work, the further into his chest it is, the further you have to lean over him. You’re practically on top of him, thumb damn near brushing over his nipple as you work on a particular line. He can feel your breath fanning his skin as you lean even closer to make sure your work is perfect. He can smell your perfume and shampoo, every sense he has is overwhelmed by you.

The hours pass and you two talk and talk, learning little things about each other, laughing at jokes that fly between sentences. It’s like you have known each other forever. He learns that you’ve been tattooing for years, starting in the underground tattooing world- even apprenticing under one of the guys who did his old tattoos. Small world!

Finally, he hears your voice chirp excitedly, “And you’re all done!” You’re pulling away and setting your tattoo gun down. You come back with a cool wet paper towel, wiping the excess ink off his chest. He doesn’t miss the way your hand moves extra slow, like it’s lingering against him. “Stand up n check it out!” You say, he is obsessed with the way your hands nearly shake with how ecstatic you seem to be, wanting him to see the work you did. “Alright, alright!” He chuckles, slowly sitting up, “Gotta give me a second, I’ve been sitting in the same position for hours.” He says, getting up and making a show of groaning as he gets up.

“Awh! So now you’re complainin’?” You tease, “you sat so well the whole time, were being sooo good f’me and now you’re complaining.”

He doesn’t miss the way you have a slight purr to your voice or the way your eyes linger on his bare back from the mirror. Did you just want him to bend you over and fuck you stupid in the studio?! (The answer was absolutely).

He laughs off the way that simple sentence makes him flustered and he shakes his head, “Not complain’, sweetheart. Just being honest.” He says, throwing his own little bit of flirting in the ring. The pet name makes your throat go dry, it rolls off his tongue so smoothly that it seems like he thinks nothing of it. You wave him off and turn around to take your gloves off, hiding your bashful expression. When you gather yourself you stand up and meet him at the mirror.

“Sooo what do ya think?!” You say in a sing song voice as you rock on your heels. He admires your work in the mirror- your work was fucking incredible. The lines were crisp, the black was opaque, and the subtle shading you added around the expanse of the tattoo made it so much better. “Holy fuck this is so awesome…” he laughs out in disbelief, all attempt at sounding suave and flirty out the window as he sees it finished for the first time. He’s eve leaning closer to the mirror to look at it in awe.

Your smile widens exponentially when you see how happy he was with your work, you’re even clapping softly. “Yay! I’m so glad you like it, it was genuinely so fun to do.” You say, catching his eyes in the mirror from where you stand behind him. “It looks really good with your other tattoos too!” You point out. He nods in agreement and turns back to you. “I guess I gotta just keep coming here…I don’t think anyone could compare to your work.”

You can’t help the blush that rises to your face, the praise from him boosting your confidence. You make a show of doing courtesy, giggling as you do it. “What can I say, I’m good at what I do.”

He laughs turning back around to face you fully, you’re a couple feet apart. He’s so much taller than you, you nearly have to crane your neck upwards to look at him. You two stand there with goofy smiles on your faces, each standing idle in the thick cloud of sexual tension that hangs around the two of you.

“Do you want to go on a date?”

“Can I have your number?”

You both speak at the same time, words fumbling from lips in a hasty nervous attempt at trying to meet up again- to do anything to ease the ache that is in both of your lower stomachs. Your laughter echos Nam-gyu’s as the overlapping sentences break the silence. You’re both nodding in response to the others question.

“Yeah, we can go on a date.” He says as he smiles down at you, your eyes cant stop drifting down to stare at his bare chest. “Then…yes you can have my number.” You answer, still giggling. You catch his eyes falling to your chest, eyes tracing over your tattoos and then settling on your cleavage.

You take a slow step towards him, he follows, his hand reaching out to hook a finger around one loops of your jeans and pulls you all the way into him. Your hands find purchase on his chest, careful not to touch the raw skin where you just tattooed. With how he pulled you into him, you can feel his erection press into your lower stomach. “You were hard the entire tattoo, huh?” You ask bluntly, smirking up at him.

Nam-gyu falters a bit, covering it up with a laugh, “A pretty girl like you touching on my chest for hours…c-can’t really help it.” He says a bit bashfully. You bite your lip, finger tracing shapes on his stomach, watching as he tenses up under your touch. “We could do something to help that…” you mutter, your voice low as you bat your eyelashes up at him.

He can’t take it anymore, he brings his hands up to hold either side of your neck and jaw, leaning down to connect his lips with yours. It’s raw and primal. Hours of built up sexual tension pouring out as your lips move together. You giggle a bit when you hear him let out a soft whine into the kiss when he feels your pierced tongue run along his bottom lip. He regains his composure and greedily sucks your tongue into his mouth. It’s hypnotizing truly, your kind going blank as your mouth is filled with the taste of him.

Nam-gyu pulls away, connected to you my a string of spit. You’re panting, trying to catch your breath. It’s not easy when he’s tilting your head up and running his nose down your neck, inhaling the scent of the perfume that has been overwhelming him this whole time. Your hands reach to his hair, pulling the long black locks as you sigh out blissfully. He leaves open mouthed kisses along your skin, teeth biting into your skin every so often. “Had me so fucking hard the entire time…” he mumbles against your skin, pulling back to lock eyes with you once more.

You bite your lip, fingers tightening their grip in his hair and tugging. A low rumble, resembling a growl escapes his lips as he grinds his painfully hard cock against your lower stomach, like he’s trying to further prove his words. “Bet you were thinkin’ of all the dirty things you wanted to do to me, huh?” You tease, tilting your head mockingly. He huffs, obviously not too enthralled by your mocking, he can’t deny the way it makes his dick jump in his boxers, though.

He pulls you back into him, lips crashing on yours. This time it’s much more frantic, it’s fast paced and full of spit and teeth. It’s messy, filthy even. As his lips wor against yours, his hands are dripping from your jaw to your hips. He’s wasting no time, his hands moving to hastily unbutton your jeans and pull down the zipper. You’re helplessly whining into his mouth, greedily sucking his tongue into your mouth as he’s guiding you backwards.

Your back hits the leather fabric of the seat you were just tattooing him in. His fingers grip at the loops of your pants pulling them down your thighs. He’s groaning into your mouth when he feels his fingers brush against the soft expanse of your thighs. He has to be dreaming.

His large hands work your jeans down to your knees. He’s pulling back from the kiss, spit still connecting your lips together. He grabs at your hips, mumbling a breathless “jump” before he’s helping you up to sit on the chair.

When you’re sat all pretty up on your bench he’s slotting himself between your legs and reconnecting his lips with yours with a desperation that makes your mind spin. He kisses you like you’re a hit of the strongest, rarest drug he’s tried. One taste and he’s addicted to you.

He clumsily pulls your jeans off your legs entirely. Fumbling even more to pull them over your shoes. You’re giggling into the kiss at his eagerness, his hands throwing your jeans to the floor of the studio and reattaching themselves to your bare thighs, grasping at the doughy flesh and moaning into your mouth as he does.

“G-god fuck-“ Nam-Gyu begins to mumble against your lips, “so. Fuckin’. pretty.” He hisses out between kisses. He thinks he’s the luckiest man in the world, there’s no fucking way he’s got you writhing against him, biting on his lips like some fucking she-devil. Your hips roll against his torso, ass grinding against the leather seat under you.

In a breathless motion, he’s pulling away and dipping his head to your neck, placing open mouthed kisses along your pulse point. There’s no true technique to it, it’s like he’s trying to just taste you. And he is. Maybe you’re wearing some pheromone perfume or something, he doesn’t know, but every time he runs his tongue along your skin, your taste flooding his taste buds, his cock is twitching in his pants- wet spot most certainly forming in his underwear.

He pulls away for a moment to simply admire you, trying to imprint the image of you into his mind just in case this is the only time he gets a chance like this. Your thighs are splayed out so nicely, the plush skin widening with how you’re sat. The slit of your sweet cunt practically hidden by your thighs, giving him the most delicious preview of what’s to come. And what is that…no fucking way….oh he’s already planning his next tattoo appointment just to make sure he sees you.

Nipple rings.

He could see the hardened outline of your nipples and the bars that went through them. Jesus Christ, you were going to actually send him to an early grave. He’s back on you, mouth back on your neck and hands coming to cup your tits over your shirt, thumbs brushing against the fabric of your shirt, massaging your nipples with feather light touches that have you jumping in his hold. Your arms find purchase on his shoulders, wrapping around his neck and gripping at the hair at the back of his neck, pulling his head further into you.

“N-nam-gyu…” his name falls from your lips in a nearly silent whine when his teeth dig a little too hard into your skin, the sharp bite of his teeth sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. He pulls away from your neck, trailing his tongue down to the sweep of your breasts, “say it again.” He mumbles tersely against your skin, lips tickling you. “Say my name like that again.” His thumb and pointer finger pinching the hard peaks and pulling the slightest bit, the black fabric of your tank top stretching with the pull.

“F-fuck! Nam-gyu, p-please.” You’re ashamed you’re already pleading with him, but the throbbing in your cunt has become almost unbearable at this point. You can feel the grin that twists against his lips as he releases your skin from his mouth. He pulls back to admire his work, his thumb moving up from your nipple to brush over the red and purple marks that begin to blossom across the top of your breasts.

“Mhm…that’s it…” he hums, nodding his head slowly, his eyes never leaving your chest, the image of your skin littered with marks made by him had his cock throbbing. So fucking pretty, he thinks. His eyes flicker up to your face, taking in your flushed cheeks, your kiss swollen lips, the way your skin is stained with the imprints of his teeth and red splotches that span over the tattoos that are inked into your flesh. It’s like some macabre renaissance painting.

He can’t wait any longer. He’s dropping to his knees and pulling you by the hips towards the edge of the chair. Your skin squeaks against the leather and you squeak out, almost afraid you’ll fall. Your hands grip the edge of the seat, your eyes are wide as you look down at him. “‘M not gonna let you fall, I got’cha princess.” He breathes out as he throws your legs over his shoulders, spreading you open finally.

You watch as he stares at your cunt, his pupils as big as saucers as he takes in your pussy. “O-oh my fucking god…” he laughs out in disbelief, not only do you have the prettiest cunt he thinks he’s ever seen, the hood of your clit is pierced. He’s spreading your lips apart to get a better look, thumbs massaging the sides of your pussy as he takes in the perfect sight before him. He looks back up to you, his face nearly as red as yours, “where the fuck have you been all this time.” He’s chuckling and looking back down to your dripping pussy.

He rests his head on your thigh, his thumb starting to trace feather light circles on your clit, thumb running over the little piercing. You jump into his touch, breath catching in your throat. “B-been here the whole time..” you whine out, hips trying to shift to meet his mouth but he’s too far away, “…t-tattooing T-thanos- ahh!” Your words are abruptly cut off by Nam-gyu delving into your pussy.

He doesn’t start slow or work you up, no, he did it to shut you up. His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks, hard, tongue rolling over your throbbing clit in figure eights. You cry out, hand flying to his hair and fisting it into your hands. It’s so much at once, but it’s so good.

“Don’t fuckin’ say his name when I got my face near your cunt..” he growls, lips dancing along your puffy folds as he speaks. He licks a flat stripe up the entirety of your pussy, drenching his tastebuds in your saccharine taste. “Only wanna hear my name.” His words are once again punctuated by his tongue flicking deviously against the silver jewelry adorning your clit. Your hips are pathetically rutting down onto his mouth, urging him to give you more.

But he’s fired up now. Years of being Thanos’ shadow, having to watch as the purple haired rapper got all the girls and left him for nothing. This was his time. His chance. He was the one getting to fuck you, not Thanos. “I’m the one who got you spread out like a whore in your lil’ tattoo studio, right?” Nam-Gyu hisses out, eyes catching yours as he waits for you to answer. You’re sucking in a shaky breath, hand tightening its grip in his hair, nodding.

His change in tone makes your cunt flutter around nothing. “Mhm…y-yeah, jus’ you.” You slur out, hips rolling to try and meet his mouth, every time he backs away so he’d be just out of reach. The corners of his lips curl up when he hears how your voice is higher, words wavering and breath heaving. He’s the one doing this to you. It feels surreal to him. He accepts your answer it seems because he’s diving back in.

His tongue is working messily along your folds. Mapping out every crevice and corner, his dark eyes never leaving your face. Nam-Gyu is watching intently, taking in every reaction you give him. Every twitch of your brow, every time you bite your lip, the way your chest heaves and stomach clenches, he’s spinning. He’s on his knees devouring your cunt, worshipping you like a goddess. He’s not shy about his noises, he’s slurping and lapping up every drop of arousal that pours out your clenching pussy.

“Taste shoo fuckin’ good.” Nam-gyu’s words are slurred by your puffy folds, tongue mapping out every inch of your throbbing pussy. He makes a whole show of dropping his jaw wide open so you can see the slick that drops down his pink tongue and coats his face. He’s so messy, paying no mind to how wet his face has become, how your thighs are painted in your own arousal. Your chest is heaving, your nails are hitting into the leather on the edge of the tattoo seat.

“So fuckin’ pretty too, y’know that?” He hums, his dark eyes trained on your cunt as he pulls back just slightly to take in the beautiful sight before him, “such a pretty fuckin’ cunt.” When he finishes his sentence you have no time to utter a response because he’s diving nose deep into your cunt, tongue circling your sopping entrance as the bridge of his nose rubs so deliciously against your clit.

“N-nam-gyu!” His name falling from your lips is a sound that makes his ears ring and his head fill with static. It’s such a high pitched creaky, pleading whine that’s so different from your voice it shocks him in the best way. One of his hands removes itself from your hip to fumble with the button and zipper of his jeans. His cock is so painfully hard he had to free it from his boxers. When his hefty cock springs free as he pulls his jeans and underwear down just enough, he’s growling into your pussy.

His tongue flattens and he licks a fat drag up the entirety of your cunt, slurping down your thick arousal greedily. “‘M I making you feel good?” He murmurs, eyes watching your every reaction even though your head is tipped back in ecstasy. You nod frantically, eyes screwed shut as he licks up and down, up and down in slow, deliberate drags. “Tell me. Wanna hear it.”

When you open your mouth to speak moans cascade from your lips, it takes a moment for you to even think straight enough to form a coherent thought. One of your hands flies to his hair, pulling the strands back out of his face and fisting the soft strands into your fists. Your head falls back forward, a weak gasp catching in your throat when you immediately catch his eyes, “Mhm, s-so fucking g-good. T-tongue feels so good!”

You can feel the way his lips widen into a smile, satisfied with your words. He nods a bit, his head shaking in your pussy, he’s practically glued. The taste of your cunt is something that not even the best high could compare to. His hands run up your hips and torso, grabbing at the top of your tank top and pulling it down. Your breasts spill out of the fabric giving him the angelic view of your bare tits. Tattoos line your chest, almost like arrows that guide his eyes directly to your pert nipples accessorized so prettily with barbells that have little hearts on either side- framing your nipples so perfectly.

His eyes are fluttering and rolling back at the sight, moaning into the depths of your cunt as he slurps up every possible ounce of your arousal. He can’t help it, he has to remove one of his hands off of your body to reach down to jerk his cock. You writhe and choke out a moan at the sight, his wrist twists around his thick length, smearing the pre-cum that bubbles out of his red tip, smearing it along his throbbing cock. Your hips grind down even harder into his face, his nose grinding so perfectly against your clit as his tongue licks greedily at your insides.

Babbles of his name are lost between wanton moans and pleas for him to continue. Every time he pulls his mouth back the slightest bit you get the most perfect view of his face, absolutely drenched in a milky-white sheen of you. It drips down his adam’s apple tantalizingly, wetting his neck- and he doesn’t care, if he does it only makes him more excited because he’s diving right back in, nose deep to fuck his tongue back into your twitching cunt.

“Ohmygod!” The babbled cry is ripped from your lungs, your hand gripping at his hair harder- nails biting into his scalp. His tongue pulls out of your entrance to lick a fat stripe back up to the hood of your clit, dancing around that pretty little piercing you have, “I’m- fuck! ‘M gonna cum!” You sob out, eyebrows upturning.

As much as Nam-Gyu wants to taste your cum pour down his throat- that would have to wait. He’s so painfully hard, he wants, no, needs to feel you cum on his cock. He’s pulling away, nearly cumming when he hears your whine, so desperate and needy, begging to cum. He stands back up, leaning forward and gripping your face, capturing you in a kiss.

It’s so messy. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue. The wetness that was left along his face is smeared across your skin. You’re moaning into his mouth at your own taste, your hands reaching to wrap around each of his wrists as you lean further into him. His taste, although mixed with yours, was something you know you’d forever be addicted to now.

Nam-gyu pulls away breathless, “‘m sorry pretty, I really need to feel you cum on my cock.” He apologizes against your lips, “I’ll make you cum, I promise…” as he speaks, one of his hands snakes down to tap at your clit. He laughs against your pillowy lips when your whole body jolts with each wet tap of his finger pad against your clit.

You nod, hips rolling against his hand, “P-please… Nam-Gyu I-I need to cum. ” You pant out. And how could Nam-Gyu say no to you. He grabs at your hips and pulls you off the bench. Your knees are weak nearly giving out but his grip on you keeps you up right. He’s spinning you around and pushing at your lower back- bending you over the tattoo bench you were just sat on. You whine when you feel your own wetness as you’re laid over the leather, now dirtying your stomach.

Nam-gyu’s hands run up and down your back, pushing up your tank top so he can see the tattoos that are inked on your back. His thick cock is slotted between the valley of your ass, rocking back and forth. You’re shivering, hips shaking left and right to try and urge him to put it in. “Be patient…” he hums, “lemme admire you.”

His hands dance along your skin, taking in all of you, feeling you under his palms. When his hands land on your waist he lets out a low growl. His hands are so large, engulfing your waist. It’s such a sinful sight, if he had an image of it he’d put it as the lockscreen of his phone. He wants to tease you more, draw this out longer, but the throbbing in his cock is painful at this point. He has to be inside you.

Nam-gyu shifts backwards, gripping the base of his dick and swiping it up and down your sopping cunt. Moans echo through the studio as you feel his fat cock head drag through your folds, catching your clit with each slow drag. When he feels the softness of your pussy along his tip he is also moaning, the hand still on you grabbing tighter at the fat of your hips.

When he’s coated his cock in your arousal he lines up with your entrance. When he makes the first push into your tight heat, both of you are letting out blissful sighs. He’s hardly in and you just know he’s going to fill you so well. Ever so slowly, he pushes in deeper. When his fat cock head is fully inside you, your cunt lets out a sickening wet ‘pop’. The high pitched, creaky moan of his name that you let out makes something particularly superior bloom deep inside him.

“Oh fuuckk…” it’s a long drawn out growl, his hands gripping the globes of your ass, the grip only tightening the further he sinks into your tight cunt. It’s so slow it’s nearly killing you, inch after agonizing inch his cock is stretching your pussy impossibly wide over his thick girth. You can feel the engorged, throbbing veins run along your walls, only serving to make the whole thing feel so much better. “P-please put it in! A-all the way.” You cry out, looking back over your shoulder at him. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth and his eyebrows are knitted together as he traces every tattoo that litters your back to memorize them. Especially that little tramp stamp you had…that was real cute.

“E-easy…” he hisses out, “You’re so t-tight, sweets. Ya gotta relax if ya want me to go faster.”

His hand reaches around to splay itself across your pubic bone, his deft fingers running along the edges of your cunt where you’re split on his dick to collect your arousal. Traveling back upwards, his fingers meet your clit to rub slow circles into the throbbing bud. You must have loosened up because he’s groaning and sinking in deeper, “Fuucckk yeah, there we go, stretching so pretty around me.”

His words have you moaning, your head falling forward, forehead resting on the leather of the chair. With one final push he’s sinking balls deep inside you. A whine is ripped from your lips, your back arches pushing your hips even further back against him. He’s keeling over you, hunching over and letting out a shuddering breath when he feels the whole length of his cock wrapped in the gooey warmth that was your cunt.

You’re already gushing around him, the force of his cock stretching you out forced a cascade of your arousal down his balls. “Fucking h-hell, so tight. Can feel you clenchin’ around me.” Nam-gyu huffs, his fingers still working on your clit, making your hips roll against him, trying to get him to move. He can’t move right now though, he just knows the second he moves he is going to blow his load deep in your cunt. He tilts his head up and a smirk spreads on his face, a perfect distraction was in front of him.

He leans over you, once of his hands running up your spine, tracing a line of your tattoo, crawling up your neck and grabbing a fistful of your hair. He pulls your head off the bench and you’re met face to face with your own reflection. The same mirror that he used to check his tattoo was now continently placed right in front of you. Your face was flushed, kiss swollen lips hanging agape as you pant. “Look at youuu…” Nam-gyu coos, using his grip on your hair to wiggle your head around to further mock your state.

You look so fucked out, it’s embarrassing, your eyes screw shut trying to hide away from the sight. “Not gonna move until you open your eyes.” The sentence is uttered through clenched teeth, coming out in a hiss. You don’t obey, your eyes are still shut. Your hips try to circle back against him but a desperate cry is ripped from your lungs as he draws his cock back, pulling nearly all the way out until just his heavy tip rests in the tight ring of your cunt.

“I know you can hear me, c’mon.” Nam-Gyu growls, jerking your head back and forth once more by your hair to really get your attention. Weakly, your eyes pry themselves open to look at your reflection in the mirror. You look up and you see his smile widening his black hair falling forward in front of his face like some scandalous curtain. When he knows you’re going to keep your eyes open, his hips are surging forward. When he sinks his cock into you again, a loud ‘squelch’ comes from your pussy, echoing throughout the tattoo studio.

“Good girl, y-you’re so pretty, ya gotta look…can’t waste a view like this.” He praises, his words shuttering every so often when he feels your cunt pulsate around him. It’s an addicting feeling, so tight, so warm. A soft, drawn out whine comes from your throat as you feel his thick length sink so deep into you, you swear you can feel him in your stomach. His fingers are still dancing along your clit, sending wave after wave of exhilarating pleasure throughout your body.

“God you feel so good, so fucking wet…” Nam-gyu huffs out, beginning to piston his hips into your ass, drawing in and out of your sopping heat in dizzying strokes. “Making such a- fucking hell- a fucking mess on my dick.” You watch the way his eyes are focused downwards, where you two are connected. Watching as the frothy white ring that forms around the base of his cock grows with each devious plap, plap, plap of his hips.

“S-so fucking big, sooo deeep.” You whine, your words slurred and drawn out, bouncing in time with each forward drive of his hips. His ego swells even bigger, your fucked out tone and babbled speech just makes him speed his thrusts up, a rumble reverberating in his chest when he sees the plush fat of your ass recoil and jiggle against his pelvis.

He releases his grip on your hair, your head falling forward, cheek resting on the leather of the chair, moth lolling open in silent gasps. His hands grip at the soft flesh of your ass, nails biting into the flesh as he rocks your ass back harder against him, slamming you back onto his cock so anytime he drives balls deep into your gushing cunt, the fat tip of his dick is pressing against your cervix in a way that’s making you delirious. “Yeah? Feels good? Tell me how good it feels.”

You’re drooling at this point, hands gripping helpless at the fabric of the bench. “Mhmm!!! So fucking good!” You cry out, “o-oh my god, so, so good!” One of your hands reaches backwards, gripping at the wrist of one of his arms desperately. “Thaaattss it…” he murmurs, his chest heaving, hips never letting up.

“Fuck yourself back against me, lemme see it.” You waste no time in following his orders, rocking your hips back to meet his thrusts. He expects you to go slow and work up to a faster speed…but no- you’re slamming your hips back against him with a violence that rivals his thrusts. You need to cum.

Nam-gyu thinks he’s in heaven, every time your ass meets his thighs he’s diving impossibly deep into you, stuffing you oh-so-full and stretching you incredibly wide. Anytime you pull away, you can feel the wetness that dirties his thighs and your ass string you two together in some macabre, pornographic connection.

It’s raw and carnal, Nam-gyu’s head tips back in pure bliss as your cunt greedily sucks him in. With each wet slap of your ass against his pelvis you’re driven further and further to your climax. Every time your hips piston backwards his fat cock is bulling itself against your g-spot. “R-right there!!” You cry out desperately, you need to cum.

“Yeah? Right there? That’s the spot?” Nam-Gyu huffs out, his hands digging even harder into the flesh of your ass, hips pile driving into you meeting every one of your backwards thrusts. He angles himself upwards the slightest bit, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you like a target. Your head shakes up and down in a frantic ‘yes’, babbled praises falling from your lips trying to spur him on.

He drives his hips meticulously into that spot over and over. It’s raw and carnal, each thrust is harder than the last and has you moaning out for him like the prettiest song. The tattoos etched into your lower back and hips ripple and stretch each time your ass recoils against him. “Fuck, look at you…” He coos, one of his hands releasing your hip to run back down to your cunt. His fingers run along your puffy folds, feeling the way you’re stretched so wide around him. “Taking it so well, just like I knew you would.”

Nam-gyu’s words go straight to your cunt, you knew he was hard while you were tattooing him but the verbal confirmation that he was thinking about fucking you that whole time just confirms it in the best way. “O-oh fuck, i-i think I’m g-gonna-“ your words are creaky and so broken up by moans, you can’t even finish what you wanted to say because it just feels too fucking good.

“Fuck, yes.” Nam-Gyu growls, his fingers moving up to your swollen clit and dancing along the pulsating bud in mind blowing circles. His tone is one that resonates deep within your mind, igniting every one of your nerves on fire. It was like those words were the ones he’s been dying to hear this whole night. “C’mon pretty girl, I need to f-feel…fuck! I need to feel you make a mess on my dick.”

Your eyes screw shut and you’re helplessly fucking yourself back on his cock, meeting each one of his mean thrusts to drive his cock so deep inside you. His fingers work deft circles on your clit, making even more of a mess of your pussy. You can feel of sloppy you’ve become, your arousal has dropped down your thighs and started to coat the tile below the two of you.

His thrusts are mean and deliberate, speeding up and driving into that sweet spot over and over her needs to feel you cum around him. Moan after moan falls from your lips, each one becoming more higher pitched than the last. You’re clenching around him tighter, spasming in a rhythm that nearly traps him inside your cunt. “F-fuck!! ‘m cumming! Ohmygodohmygod Nam-gyu!” It’s a babbled mess of his name and gasps of pleasure, your back arching even more, your hips shuddering in sloppy thrusts backwards until they stop completely.

Your orgasm makes your vision blurry, your ears ring, and your mind fill with static. When you cum, you cum so hard. Harder than you think you ever have. You’re gushing around him, sobbing out as your body shakes against him. Nam-gyu’s head is tipped back, eyes rolled so far back into his head that he swears he could see his skull. The vice like grip you had on his cock is hurling him towards his own end.

“F-fuck!” Nam-gyu nearly yells out, hips and fingers working you through your orgasm in sloppy movements. “W-where do you want it? F-fuck ya gotta tell me, ‘m so close.”

You can hardly make the words out to respond, but you need it badly, so after inhaling a large, heaving breath and answering him. “I-inside, w-want to feel it..hah!..p-please!” The words are slurred and damn near incoherent- but he hears them perfectly.

With a few more rough thrusts, he’s driving his hips flush with your ass, pushing his cock balls deep into you and cumming deep in your tight heat. You can feel every thick rope filling you up, prolonging your orgasm to the point where you can hardly breathe. His hips rock shallowly into you, making sure every last drop of his cum is pulled from his cock and painting your walls.

You both still, sweaty and breathless, bodies feeling like jelly. “Y-you came so much…” you whine, hips rolling against his mindlessly. Nam-gyu hisses, over sensitive, hand pulling away from your clit so he can hold both of your hips, stilling you. “Mhm…” he hums out, catching his breath, “couldn’t help it, pussy felt too fucking good.”

You smile dumbly, letting out a weak giggle and slumping against the leather bench. With every giggle you let out, your pussy clenches around him like a vice. Nam-Gyu slowly pulls out, his whole body shivering as he slides out of your cunt. He keeps his hands on your ass, spreading you open so he can watch as his cum seeps out of you in thick globs that drop to the floor and mix with the mess you’ve already made.

His thumb glides over your pussy, smearing the mess as he admires it. “Now that’s a fuckin’ sight..” he hums out, chuckling slightly as you shake anytime his thumb runs over your overstimulated clit. Nam-gyu slides his hands back up your body as he leans down, placing a line of kisses across the back of your shoulder.

You smile when you feel the comforting weight of him over you, trapping you against the chair. You turn your face to try and look back at him, a blissed out smile on your lips. He meets you halfway, booking his face over your shoulder to capture your lips in a slow kiss. It’s languid and full of tongue. You can still taste yourself on his tongue.

“Aren’t we supposed to fuck after the first date?” You mutter against his lips, giggling softly. “Mmm…yeah I guess…but seems like we do things differently.” Nam-gyu says as he pulls away from the kiss, one of his hands is brushing hair out of your face. The next moment he’s holding his phone in your face open to a new contact screen. “Gotta give me your number so we can plan that date.” He says laughing, placing a kiss on your temple.

You can help but laugh, taking his phone and beginning to type in your contact information. Even adding a cute selfie of your fucked out face with makeup smeared and all to the contact as the photo- after your date and the many dates to come he could change it when he had more photos of you (or not).

You didn’t plan to get fucked stupid on your tattoo chair but you weren’t complaining at all, you were so glad he had made an appointment.

I hope you guys liked this one, it was on the back burner for a long while and I really wanted to finish it! I promise I’m still working hard at requests 🙏🙏 thank you all for your support!! Let me know what ya think of this one!! love yew guys!! - <3 kiwi

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butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 1 year ago

Text

Bunny - Health Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Joker x Fem!Reader Joker x Reader with Anxiety

Word Count: 17,654

Warnings: murder, Joker, robbing banks, minor age gap, implied stalking, technically breaking and entering

Summary: !!Request!! All Y/n wanted was to deposit money into her bank account, but what happens when the bank she arrives at gets robbed by the Joker? And what happens when she catches his eye? (MASTERLIST) - (Part Two)

A/N: This was a request from the lovely @Evergreenbellaaaz I hope you enjoy this one as I love the Joker so much, like I would die for this man. Joker is a bit OOC, but he's a bastard, so what can you do? And I did not mean to pop off like this, but here we are! I wrote so much more than I was supposed to but when the words flow, they flow~ I hope you enjoy this, thank you for the request my dear, and love you all 💚

The bustling streets of Gotham seemed to close in on Y/n as she walked with purpose, her steps echoing the persistent beat of her anxious heart. Her fingers clutched the small envelope containing a substantial sum of cash, the weight of responsibility bearing down on her. She repeated the words she had rehearsed countless times under her breath, a mantra to calm her nerves.

"I would like to deposit some cash into my account, please," she whispered to herself for what felt like the hundredth time. The crowded cityscape provided an indifferent backdrop to her internal struggle.

The decision to go on this seemingly simple journey, a mere 30-minute trip to the bank, had transformed into a two-week-long ordeal of procrastination. Y/n, who usually had her parents help with mundane chores like this, now found herself standing in front of Gotham City bank. The money she had saved over the past year burned a hole in her pocket, a tangible reminder that it was time to step into the realm of adulthood.

As she approached the imposing facade of the bank, its polished exterior seemed to mock her insecurities. The daunting prospect of facing the unfamiliar banking procedures left Y/n grappling with a sense of unease. Yet, she pressed on, her internal resolve battling against the knots tightening in her stomach.

Entering the turnstile door of the bank, Y/n hesitated at the threshold, momentarily overwhelmed by the sterile environment and the rhythmic hum of conversations. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the task at hand.

Getting in line, her voice still a quiet whisper as she practised, "I would like to deposit some cash into my account, please."

"Next!" The call from the person at the counter pierced through the ambient hum of the bank.

Determination etched across her features, Y/n navigated through the maze of anxiety, reaching the counter with a mix of apprehension and resolve. She placed her trembling hands on the smooth surface of the counter.

The bank employee, a woman with a practiced smile, looked up from her paperwork. "Hi, how can I help you today?" she inquired, her gaze meeting Y/n's with professional courtesy.

"I-I..Um.." Y/n stuttered, feeling the weight of her own vulnerability. The words she had rehearsed so diligently seemed to evaporate in the heat of the moment. "Can I put my cash in my account?" she finally managed to articulate, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

The heat radiating from her neck intensified, the physical manifestation of her anxiety. Despite her efforts, Y/n couldn't escape the self-imposed judgment. After all the practice and mental preparation, she berated herself for stumbling over such a simple request. The bank employee, however, maintained a neutral expression, accustomed to the occasional nervousness of customers.

"Could I get your name and acc-" The woman at the counter was abruptly cut off by the jarring eruption of loud shouts, disrupting the calm atmosphere of the bank.

Y/n's gaze darted towards the source of the commotion, her heart pounding anew as an unforeseen disturbance unfolded, shattering the mundane routine of the day.

A sudden jolt reverberated through the once-calm bank as the turnstile doors spun, revealing an ominous group of men adorned in clown masks. In their hands, they held large guns.

"Get on the ground!" The command was barked, the harsh echo of gunshots accompanying the directive.

Panic erupted, and the bank's atmosphere plunged into disarray. A cacophony of terrified screams reverberated through the air as patrons and employees alike scrambled to obey, dropping to the ground in a chaotic symphony of fear.

Y/n's heart raced at an alarming pace, the sound of her own pulse competing with the pandemonium around her. Legs weakened by a cocktail of adrenaline and terror gave way, making it effortless for her to sink to the cold floor. Huddled against the counter, she sought refuge in the shadows, her trembling form attempting to blend into the background of the unfolding nightmare.

Through the ominous procession of masked invaders, a figure with an unmistakable presence emerged. A man with a face painted in ghastly hues, wild green hair framing his grinning visage, and a purple coat that billowed as he walked. It was a theatrical entrance that left no room for doubt, the Joker had arrived.

The room fell silent, a collective breath held as the Joker's calculating gaze swept across the terrified hostages. His painted face, a canvas for chaos, twisted into a grotesque yellow smile. In that unsettling moment, the Joker had seized control of the bank, turning a routine day into an unforeseen dance with the anarchic force that was the clown prince of crime.

The Joker surveyed the terrified hostages with manic glee. His eyes gleamed with delight as he strolled through the bank, his henchmen maintaining a menacing presence at his side. The air crackled with an unpredictable energy, the tension escalating with each step he took.

"Greetings, my fine friends!" the Joker declared, his voice resonating with a twisted mirth that sent chills down the spines of the hostages.

He paused dramatically, allowing the weight of his presence to settle upon the captive audience. "I hope you're all having a splendid day! I know I am!"

He gestured to the chaos around him, as if orchestrating a chaotic symphony. The hostages, cowering on the ground, exchanged fearful glances as the Joker continued his morbidly cheerful monologue. "You see, life is just a series of unexpected events. One moment, you're withdrawing cash, and the next, you're starring in a show you never signed up for!"

A twisted grin etched across his face as he revelled in the discomfort of his captives. "But fear not, my dear friends! The Joker is here to add a splash of color to your dull lives! And what's life without a little chaos, eh?"

The Joker's eyes scanned the crowd, and then, as if drawn by an invisible force, they locked onto Y/n. The corners of his mouth curled into a wicked grin. The Joker's voice cut through the tense silence, a raspy symphony of madness that sent shivers down the spines of everyone in the bank. His unnerving smile widened as he surveyed the captivated audience.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" he mused, his words dripping with malicious amusement.

His eyes, obscured by the chaos-inducing makeup, seemed to fixate on Y/n huddled near the counter. "A little bunny who wandered into my little party. What's your name, darling?"

Y/n's throat tightened, fear and uncertainty mingling within her. She stammered, "Y-Y/n," the words barely audible over the palpable tension in the air.

"Y/n!" the Joker exclaimed, drawing out each syllable as if savoring it. "Such a lovely name for such a lovely surprise! Welcome to the show!" He chuckled, the sound echoing like eerie music in the confines of the bank.

The atmosphere within the bank was suffocating, thick with fear and tension. The masked henchmen moved with ruthless efficiency, pointing their guns at helpless hostages and demanding compliance as they forcefully filled bags with money. The metallic scent of panic lingered in the air, and the dissonance of terrified sobs mingled with the Joker's maniacal laughter.

Yet, in the midst of the chaotic tableau, the Joker's focus remained fixated on Y/n. His eyes, obscured by the painted mask, bore into her with an unsettling intensity that sent shivers down her spine. The manic energy surrounding him seemed to warp the very air, making the atmosphere oppressive and surreal.

The Joker's henchmen continued their menacing work, but the Joker himself stepped closer to Y/n, the unnerving smile on his face never wavering. It was as if the rest of the bank faded away, leaving only the two of them locked in a macabre dance.

"Y/n," he purred, his voice a dark melody against the backdrop of chaos. "You're a breath of fresh air in this dreary city. I can't help but feel a certain... connection between us. Don't you?"

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, the gravity of the situation intensified by the Joker's unwavering attention. The menacing environment and the Joker's unpredictable nature created a concoction of fear that gripped her, making her acutely aware that, in the midst of this criminal spectacle, she had become an unwitting focal point in the Joker's deranged performance.

The menacing henchmen continued to patrol the terrified hostages, their eyes devoid of empathy. The Joker, however, maintained an unsettling focus on Y/n, as if sensing a peculiar energy in the air.

"Now, my dear Y/n, since you're the guest of honor, how about you do something special for me?"

Y/n's eyes widened with trepidation, her mind racing to comprehend the surreal situation. The Joker's unpredictable nature made every second feel like an eternity.

"I-I don't... I don't know what to do," she stammered, her voice barely reaching the Joker's ears.

He threw back his head in laughter, the sinister sound reverberating through the bank. "Oh, darling, that's the beauty of it! Surprise me! Dance a little, sing a song, or maybe tell me a joke. I do love a good joke!"

Caught between the threat of violence and the Joker's eccentric demands, Y/n felt the weight of an impossible choice. Little did she know, her unassuming visit to the bank had transformed into an unexpected performance in the Joker's twisted carnival of chaos. The Joker, seemingly unbothered by her hesitation, circled Y/n like a predatory cat closing in on its prey.

"No worries, darling. Sometimes silence speaks louder than words," he mused, his voice carrying an unsettling blend of whimsy and menace.

Y/n, caught in the crosshairs of the Joker's peculiar attention, remained frozen, her anxiety immobilizing her like a deer in headlights. However, the Joker, never one to let an opportunity for chaos slip away, decided to take matters into his own hands.

With an abrupt motion, the Joker twirled Y/n around to face him. "Since you're not in the mood for words, how about a dance?" he suggested, a maniacal glint in his eyes.

Without waiting for a response, he began to move, his own twisted rhythm guiding Y/n's hesitant steps. Everyone in the bank now bore witness to a macabre dance between the Clown Prince of Crime and an unwilling participant. Y/n stumbled through the grotesque waltz, her movements a stark contrast to the Joker's fluid, unpredictable motions.

The masked henchmen paused in their looting, their attention momentarily diverted to the unexpected spectacle. The Joker's laughter blended with the discordant echoes of the bank, turning the once-sterile environment into a nightmarish stage for an impromptu performance orchestrated by Gotham's most infamous criminal.

Within the chaotic vortex of the bank, Y/n felt the grip of anxiety tightening around her like an invisible vice. Her chest constricted with each strained breath, and her pulse echoed loudly in her ears, a relentless drumbeat of fear. The oppressive weight of the Joker's attention bore down on her, intensifying the already overwhelming sense of vulnerability.

As the Joker's manic laughter reverberated through the bank, it echoed in Y/n's mind, amplifying her sense of powerlessness. Her thoughts became a cacophony of self-doubt and fear, drowning out any rational response she might summon.

Her mind, usually a refuge, had become a battleground of conflicting emotions, where anxiety and terror waged a relentless war against any semblance of control. In that moment, Y/n found herself caught between the stark contrast of the Joker's madness and her own silent struggle with the debilitating grip of social anxiety.

The Joker's gloved hand, cool and unsettlingly steady, closed around Y/n's arm like a vice. The touch sent a shiver down her spine, the contrast between his cold grasp and the warmth of her own fear-ridden skin intensifying the surreal nature of the encounter. His fingers, adorned in faded purple gloves, curled possessively around her.

The wad of cash in an envelope, her hard-earned savings, nestled uncomfortably in the pocket of her coat. The crinkling sound it made served as a cruel reminder of the mundane purpose that had led her to this twisted encounter with Gotham's Clown Prince of Crime.

“What’s this bunny?” the Joker whispered, reaching into her pocket.

In a swift motion, the Joker took the envelope from Y/n's pocket. The Joker's painted eyes lingered on the crumpled envelope, a twisted fascination dancing within their depths. His gloved fingers traced the edges of the paper, feeling the texture of the cash hidden within. The manic grin on his face widened, a malevolent satisfaction painting his features with an unsettling glow.

"Well, well, well," he mused, his voice a sinister purr. "Looks like we've got a bit of money here. What were you planning to do with all this pretty money, hmm?" His tone, mocking and playful, cut through the air, adding another layer of discomfort to Y/n's already fraught nerves.

The Joker's eyes, still fixed on the cash, momentarily flickered up to meet Y/n's terrified gaze.

"You know, pretty thing, money makes the world go round, buT chaos... chaos gives it that extra spin," he declared, his words carrying a perverse wisdom.

With an unexpected gentleness, he placed the crumpled envelope back into Y/n's trembling hands.

"There you go, darling," he sneered, his voice dripping with faux courtesy.

"You're pretty, and you get to keep your money. Consider it a gift from the Clown Prince of Crime himself!" The Joker's laughter, sharp and discordant, echoed through the bank, leaving Y/n to grapple with the bizarre reality that she had been granted reprieve in the midst of the madman's carnival.

The Joker abruptly stopped dancing, releasing Y/n with a dramatic flourish. As the eerie music of chaos continued to play in the background, Y/n, drained and disoriented, stumbled and fell to the unforgiving floor. The Joker, seemingly disinterested, began to saunter away, his vibrant purple coat trailing behind him.

Y/n watched the Joker's retreating figure, a mix of fear and confusion etched across her face. His manic laughter echoed through the bank as he distanced himself, leaving her in the wake of the strange encounter.

Just when Y/n began to believe the nightmare might be over, the Joker, in a surprising turn, paused and turned back to her.

"On second thought," he said, his painted eyes fixated on her as if reconsidering something.

With a swift movement, he approached his henchmen, and Y/n's breath caught, fearing he might grab a weapon.

To her bewilderment, however, the Joker reached into the bag of ill-gotten gains and pulled out a handful of cash. He approached Y/n with a malevolent smirk, crouching down beside her, holding the money out before her like an offering.

"Treat yourself," he quipped, the words dripping with a macabre generosity. "Buy you something pretty, bunny," His yellowing teeth flashed in a grin that sent a chill down Y/n's spine.

Y/n hesitated, glancing at the proffered money, her mind reeling from the bizarre twists of the encounter. The Joker, seemingly satisfied with his whimsical act of kindness, stood up again and walked out of the bank, leaving Y/n alone on the cold floor amidst the remnants of his chaotic performance.

The minutes that followed felt like a surreal blur to Y/n. The bank continued to echo with the disjointed sounds of the robbery, the erratic footsteps of the henchmen, the muffled cries of hostages, and the lingering aura of fear that permeated the air.

As she struggled to regain her bearings, the presence of law enforcement gradually became apparent. Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder with each passing moment. Uniformed police officers, their expressions a mix of urgency and determination, streamed into the bank, ushering bewildered hostages towards the exit.

Y/n, still seated on the floor, felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, the touch snapping her back to a hazy reality. A police officer, their voice calm and reassuring, urged her to stand and guided her towards the exit. Her movements were mechanical, her mind a foggy labyrinth of emotions.

The daylight outside the bank entrance felt harsh against her dilated pupils. As Y/n emerged, she blinked, trying to return to the real world after what she had just experienced. The police ushered her to safety along with the other hostages.

As they moved away from the scene, Y/n instinctively slipped her hand into her pocket, the touch of cold, crumpled paper grounding her in the midst of confusion. Fingers tracing the contours of the secret wad of cash, she was jolted back to the disconcerting reality of the encounter. The bills felt real, tangible, serving as an unsettling reminder that the Joker had indeed been there and given her some sick kind of special attention.

The police officer continued to speak words of reassurance, but Y/n's attention remained fixated on the unexpected gift nestled in her pocket. The cash became a tangible link to the bizarre dance with madness, a connection to the maniacal clown who had momentarily disrupted her ordinary world.

As they moved further away from the bank, the distant wails of sirens and the controlled urgency of emergency personnel gradually replaced the dissonance of the robbery. Y/n's gaze remained distant, her mind grappling with the unnerving realization that, in the pocket of her jeans, she held a token of the surreal encounter that would continue to haunt her thoughts for days to come.

The revelation of the secret wad of cash tucked away in her pocket served as a haunting memento of the surreal encounter with the Joker. Y/n couldn't shake the eerie feeling that the crumpled bills held a weight beyond their monetary value.

To her muted surprise, the Gotham City police remained oblivious to the extra bit of money concealed in her pocket. Y/n, having seen the police's shortcomings on the news, didn't expect them to figure out what happened after the Joker's bank robbery.

Yet Y/n hesitated to use the money. She knew better than to tempt fate by using the illegal bills into her routine transactions. The very nature of the Joker's strange generosity hinted at potential consequences, and Y/n, despite her limited understanding of the intricacies of money, sensed the looming risk associated with its dubious origins.

Her reluctance to touch the Joker's gift stemmed not only from the fear of being caught but also from an inherent understanding of her own luck, or lack thereof. The dodgy bills, like a ticking time bomb, held the potential to unravel her ordinary life in a city that seemed to thrive on chaos.

Surviving the close encounter with the Joker left Y/n in a state of disbelief. The fact that she had danced with the Clown Prince of Crime and emerged unscathed defied all logic. The disconcerting notion that countless eyes had likely observed the bizarre spectacle haunted her thoughts, yet she felt a sense of relief that the aftermath of the incident remained shrouded in a peculiar silence.

As the days passed, Y/n couldn't shake the lingering shadows of the encounter, each quiet moment a reminder that the Joker's presence had brushed against the edges of her reality.

A week had slipped by since the bank incident, a span of time that, thankfully, saw no follow up from the police. However, the absence of police activity also meant the unsettling reality that the Joker remained on the loose, and the thought haunted the edges of Y/n's consciousness. She fervently prayed that she would never find herself entangled in such a dangerous situation again.

On this particular late Thursday night, Y/n found herself navigating the dimly lit streets of Gotham. The late hours found her consumed by a craving for lollies, the lengthy study session still lingering in her mind. With the hood of her jacket up, she set off towards the nearby dairy, nestled conveniently around the corner from her university dormitory.

To her dismay, the familiar glow of the store's neon sign was conspicuously absent as she arrived at her destination. The store, known for it’s convenience, stood shuttered and silent. Faced with the closed doors, she felt a pang of embarrassment at the thought of returning empty-handed to her dormitory.

Refusing to let disappointment deter her, Y/n forged ahead. With a sigh, she continued down the street, her mind racing to recall the location of the next closest dairy. Though her steps were fueled by determination, a flicker of unease danced at the edges of her awareness, a lingering reminder of the precarious nature of life in Gotham.

Y/n's unease proved to be justified as she approached a group of men ahead. Despite her attempts to keep a low profile by bowing her head and hoping to pass by unnoticed, fate had different plans for her that night. As she drew nearer to the group, one of the men stepped forward, blocking her path with an unsettling certainty.

"Hey there, girly. What brings you out at this hour?" the man taunted, his words backed-up by the laughter of his companions.

A wave of numbness washed over Y/n, her instincts screaming at her to flee. Yet, as she tried to navigate around the imposing figure before her, he moved deliberately in front of her, effectively halting her progress.

"Whoa, hold on now. Where do you think you're going?" the man demanded, his voice laced with a menacing edge.

Desperation clawed at Y/n's throat as she pleaded for them to leave her be, her voice barely more than a whisper as she continued to avoid meeting their gaze.

"Please, just let me pass," she whispered, her heart hammering in her chest.

But her pleas fell on deaf ears. In a cruel twist of fate, one of the men reached out and tugged at her hoodie, exposing her to their scrutinizing stares. As Y/n lifted her gaze, her heart plummeted at the realization that she was now surrounded by five intimidating figures, their intentions unclear and her sense of safety shattered.

Y/n's heart leaped into her throat as one of the men reached into her pocket, extracting her wallet with a disregard for her privacy. "How much cash have we got here?" the man asked, his voice dripping with malicious intent.

With a sinking feeling, Y/n watched helplessly as a couple of the men gathered around, peering into her wallet with a grim curiosity. In that moment, instinct overrode reason, and Y/n's survival instincts kicked into high gear.

Without a second thought, Y/n bolted, her adrenaline-fueled flight propelling her past the looming figures that had moments ago surrounded her. She knew she was leaving her wallet behind, but in that split second decision, the preservation of her life outweighed any material possession.

As the men's shouts echoed behind her, Y/n's heart raced with a frantic rhythm, her feet pounding against the pavement in a desperate bid for escape. With every stride, she pushed herself harder, her mind a whirlwind of fear and determination.

In the darkness of the night, Y/n's gaze darted around, searching for a path to safety. Spotting an alleyway ahead, she made a split-second decision and veered off course, her feet carrying her into the murky depths of the narrow passage.

Though rational thought whispered warnings against running into the unknown, Y/n pressed on, her singular focus on outpacing her pursuers. With each step, the alleyway seemed to stretch endlessly before her.

Glancing over her shoulder, Y/n's heart sank as she realized the men were gaining on her with each passing moment. Y/n berated herself for the inevitable mishap as her foot caught on a discarded piece of rubbish, sending her crashing to the ground in a painful heap.

A scream tore from her lips as she tumbled to the unforgiving pavement, her hands and knees absorbing the most of the impact. Pain lanced through her body, tears welling in her eyes from a potent mixture of fear and agony. With trembling hands, she turned herself around, still on the ground, her gaze darting frantically to the looming figures that now stood before her.

But to her astonishment, the men's attention wavered, their cruel sneers faltering as their gaze shifted to something behind her. Confusion clouded Y/n's mind as she turned to follow their line of sight, her eyes widening in disbelief at the sight that greeted her.

Approaching from the shadows was another figure, one whose presence exuded a chilling aura of authority and menace. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched the men scramble in terror, their boldness crumbling in the face of this new threat.

“A-ta-ta..” The scarred man's voice was a low, ominous growl as he continued his relentless advance, a gun trained on the men before him.

Y/n's heart pounded in her chest as the figure emerged into the dim light of the alleyway. It was the Joker, his painted visage twisted into a malevolent grin as he surveyed the scene before him.

“Drop the wallet,” the Joker demanded, his voice a cold command that brooked no argument.

With trembling hands, the man holding Y/n's wallet complied, the leather hitting the ground with a dull thud. “Now empty your pockets,” the Joker commanded once more, his gaze piercing through the darkness with an intensity that sent shivers down Y/n's spine.

The men, cowed by the Joker's presence, complied with his demands, the sound of coins and notes hitting the ground echoing through the alleyway. The Joker's eyes lingered on the scattered loot for a moment before he turned his attention back to the trembling figures before him.

A single shot rang out, reverberating through the alleyway with a deafening roar. Y/n's heart leaped into her throat, but to her relief, the bullet was aimed just past the men, a warning shot that sent them scrambling in a desperate bid for escape.

As the men fled into the shadows, Y/n watched in awe as the Joker stood victorious, his enigmatic presence commanding the darkness. In that moment, she couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of fear and gratitude toward the sinister figure who had intervened on her behalf.

Y/n's breath hitched as she watched the Joker step around her like a predatory cat, his movements unsettling. The sight of him crouched to retrieve the scattered money from the ground sent a shiver down her spine. She knew she couldn't afford to linger, the threat of her own demise looming like a dark cloud overhead.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Y/n pushed herself up from the ground, her body protesting with each movement. Pain flared through her limbs from the impact of the fall, but the urgency of the situation drowned out her discomfort.

"Where do you think you're off to, bunny?" the Joker's gravelly voice sliced through the air, sending a jolt of fear coursing through Y/n's veins.

She froze, her gaze locked on the Joker's figure as he deposited the money into her wallet. The mere sight of him instilled a primal fear in her, his unpredictability casting a long shadow over her trembling form.

The Joker's piercing gaze bore into her, demanding her attention. "I asked you a question," he repeated, his tone laced with a dangerous edge.

"M-my dorm," Y/n stammered, her voice barely more than a whisper.

The Joker's scarred lips curved into a sinister grin, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. "Without your wallet?" he inquired, his voice dripping with mock concern.

Y/n's heart raced as she struggled to find an answer, her mind racing with the implications of the Joker's words. In that moment, she realized that escaping the Joker's clutches might prove to be an even greater challenge than evading the men who had mugged her.

The Joker held her wallet up, a wicked gleam dancing in his eyes as he toyed with her. With trembling hands, Y/n reached out for the wallet, her fingers hovering uncertainly in the air. But before she could grasp it, the Joker's iron grip closed around her wrist, pulling her closer with a sudden, startling force.

A strangled cry escaped Y/n's lips as she was yanked towards the Joker, her mind immediately jumping to the worst possible scenarios.

"Is my little bunny hurt?" the Joker's voice rang out, his tone deceptively gentle as he inspected her injured palm.

Y/n's breath caught in her throat as the Joker's cold fingers traced the raw scrapes and bruises marring her skin, the gritty residue of stones and dirt clinging to the wounds. The contact sent a shiver down her spine, her fear magnified by the intimate proximity of their encounter.

The realization dawned on Y/n that she was utterly vulnerable, alone with the Clown Prince of Crime in the dim recesses of the alley. The terror that had gripped her at the bank now intensified tenfold, every instinct screaming at her to flee.

Yet, to her astonishment, the Joker's demeanor shifted unexpectedly. He tucked her wallet into his own pocket, much to Y/n's dismay. But instead of furthering her despair, he shrugged off his coat.

Y/n stiffened as the Joker draped the coat around her shoulders, the weight of the fabric heavy and thick. The gesture was unnerving, a stark contrast to the violence and chaos that had defined their encounters thus far. She stood frozen in place, her mind reeling with the unsettling realization that, in the twisted world of Gotham, even the most malevolent of figures could harbor empathy.

"Can't have my bunny freezing, can I?" The Joker's gravelly voice cut through the tense silence, his words tinged with an unsettling mix of concern and mockery.

Y/n stood frozen in place, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. This unexpected act of kindness from the notorious Clown Prince of Crime felt like a twisted joke, leaving her at a loss for words.

Her thoughts spun in a dizzying whirl as she struggled to comprehend the surreal turn of events. Why was the Joker, of all people, extending such an unusual gesture towards her?

"As much as I'd love to walk you back to your dorm, I've got places to be," the Joker continued, his tone casual as he turned on his heel, his figure receding into the shadows of the alley.

“Goodbye, Bunny,” his voice echoed in the alleyway.

Y/n watched him go, a mixture of apprehension and curiosity gnawing at her insides. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease that clung to her like a second skin, her mind racing with unanswered questions.

Turning her attention to the coat draped around her shoulders, Y/n felt a wave of disorientation wash over her. It felt surreal to be adorned in the Joker's iconic attire, a stark reminder of the surreal encounter she had just experienced.

As she made her way home, the weight of the coat hung heavy upon her, its unfamiliar presence a constant reminder of the surreal chain of events that had unfolded in the dimly lit alley. Y/n prayed fervently that no one would recognize the coat she wore, fearing the inevitable questions and suspicions that would surely follow.

Each step felt like a surreal blur, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing moment. Y/n couldn't shake the nagging feeling that her encounter with the Joker was far from over, his presence lingering in the shadows of her thoughts like a haunting specter.

A day had passed since that second encounter, yet Y/n still struggled to wrap her mind around the surreal turn of events. The Joker, of all people, had saved her. The very same man who had orchestrated a bank robbery only days before had intervened to rescue her from a potential mugging. It was a twist of fate that defied all logic and left Y/n grappling with a strange mixture of gratitude and disbelief.

As she gazed at the purple coat draped across her chair, Y/n couldn't help but feel a surge of conflicting emotions wash over her. The garment served as a tangible reminder of the unlikely alliance forged in the depths of Gotham's shadows, a silent testament to the bond she now shared with the Clown Prince of Crime.

It was a paradox that baffled her, and while the events of the past day had left her shaken and uncertain, one thing was clear. the Joker's actions had defied all expectations, leaving Y/n to grapple with the unsettling realization that perhaps, in the twisted world of Gotham, even the most notorious of villains could harbor a spark of unexpected humanity. Y/n couldn't shake the unease that gnawed at her, the weight of the garment heavy with unanswered questions.

What was she supposed to do with it now?

The thought lingered in her mind, casting a shadow over her already troubled thoughts. Would the Joker come looking for it? Or would it remain in her possession, a permanent reminder of the inexplicable bond forged in the darkness of Gotham's alleys?

Either scenario filled her with a sense of dread. The thought of the Joker tracking her down sent shivers down her spine, while the prospect of being forever tethered to the coat felt like a suffocating burden.

As fate would have it, the coat laying over her chair would soon be the least of her worries.

Upon returning to her dorm from a long day of lectures, Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she stepped into her room, greeted by the absence of the Joker's coat. Initially, the sight would have brought her immense relief, were it not for the unsettling realization that its disappearance hinted at a much more alarming reality that the Joker had been in her room.

A shiver traced its way down her spine as she scanned the room, her senses on high alert. With cautious steps, she made her way to her desk, her movements tense with apprehension. Flipping through the scattered belongings, she breathed a tentative sigh of relief as she realized that nothing appeared to be missing, well, aside from the mess she had inadvertently created.

But just as she began to relax, her eyes fell upon an unexpected discovery nestled within her drawer, a piece of paper adorned with a smudged smiley face, drawn in what looked like lipstick or face paint. With trembling hands, Y/n retrieved the paper, her heart pounding in her chest as she turned it over.

"Use the money, Bunny," the words scrawled across the paper sent a chill down her spine, the possible meaning of the message sinking in with a nauseating weight.

Fighting back a rising tide of panic, Y/n tentatively reached into the drawer, her fingers closing around the familiar wad of cash. Yet, to her astonishment, her touch encountered not one, but two bundles of bills, an unexpected windfall courtesy of the Joker himself.

The realization left her reeling, her mind spinning with disbelief. What did it all mean? And more importantly, what did the Joker want from her now? As she grappled with these unsettling questions, one thing was certain: the enigmatic Clown Prince of Crime had once again thrust her into the midst of his twisted game leaving her with a handful of cash and a trail of unanswered questions.

Once again, Y/n found herself walking down the Gotham's streets under the cloak of night, a decision she had sworn she wouldn't repeat after her previous night. Yet, the suffocating crowds of the city's daytime bustle left her feeling more vulnerable than ever, driving her back to the relative solitude of the nocturnal streets.

With her hands buried deep in her pockets, Y/n hurried along the familiar path to her usual convenience store, her steps quickened by a sense of urgency that seemed to permeate the very air around her. Despite the familiarity of the route, each shadow seemed to loom larger, every alleyway a potential trap lying in wait.

Finally reaching her destination, she breathed a sigh of relief as she confirmed that the store was indeed open this time, a small victory in the face of Gotham's relentless chaos. Snagging a couple of snacks, she wasted no time in completing her purchase before slipping back out into the night.

As she walked briskly down the dimly lit street, her senses on high alert, Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she neared an ominous alleyway, a dark abyss from which the muffled sounds of distress emanated. Her pulse quickened with apprehension, her instincts screaming at her to turn and flee.

With a sinking feeling, she realized that she was frozen in place, her feet refusing to carry her past the source of the chilling cries for help. And then, as if on cue, a desperate voice shattered the silence, cutting through the night like a knife.

"Help me!" the plea echoed through the darkness, sending a shiver down Y/n's spine.

Y/n's heart plummeted as the menacing figures in the alleyway pivoted to fix their gaze upon her, their predatory stares sending a chill down her spine. And then, as if materializing from the very shadows themselves, the unmistakable voice of the Joker sliced through the night air, his mocking tone dripping with sinister amusement.

"Well, well, if it isn't my Bunny," the Joker's voice rang out, a dark melody that sent a shiver down Y/n's spine. “We can’t keep meeting like this.”

Without a moment's hesitation, Y/n abandoned her purchases, her only thought to escape the clutches of the Clown Prince of Crime. With adrenaline coursing through her veins, she bolted down the streets of Gotham, her breaths ragged and panicked.

The cacophony of her own heartbeat drowned out all other sound, the pounding rhythm echoing in her ears as she careened through the streets. Her vision blurred with tears of fear and desperation, each stride carrying her farther from the looming specter of the Joker. It felt like everytime she left her dorm, she was being chased or attacked.

As she approached a bustling intersection, Y/n's resolve wavered, her frenzied mind teetering on the edge of recklessness. With a reckless abandon born of sheer panic, she made a split-second decision, her foot poised to step into the path of an oncoming car.

But just as she was about to leap into the unknown, a firm grip seized her hoodie, yanking her back with a jolt. She stumbled backwards, her heart pounding in her chest as she was pulled into the safety of the man's embrace behind her.

The adrenaline-fueled rush subsided, replaced by a wave of overwhelming relief as Y/n realized the gravity of the narrow escape.

"What, are you fucking crazy? Are you trying to get yourself killed?" the man's voice, tinged with exasperation, cut through the haze of panic.

Her skin still tingling with the remnants of fear, Y/n bristled at the accusation, her indignation rising in the face of the Joker's audacious presence. With a defiant shove, she attempted to break free from his grasp, only to find herself ensnared once more by the iron grip of the man behind her.

Y/n's voice quivered with fear as she pleaded for mercy, her words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "Please! I didn't see anything! I'm sorry!"

The Joker's gaze bore down upon her with an unsettling intensity, his eyes narrowing in confusion. Her eyes followed down his body to his other hand, her heart lurching in her chest as she caught sight of the glinting blade clasped within his grasp. With a strangled cry, she recoiled, the threat of violence hanging heavy in the air.

"Quit it with the screaming, okay!" the Joker snapped, his tone brusque as he silenced her.

Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she struggled to compose herself, her hands trembling with the weight of her fear.

"Don't hurt me, please..." Y/n's voice cracked with desperation, her plea hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

The Joker's response showed he was clearly irritated. "I'm not going to hurt you," he retorted, his tone dripping with annoyance.

Y/n's eyes widened in disbelief, her gaze darting to the glinting blade still held within the Joker's grasp. "You have a knife!" she pointed out, her voice trembling with apprehension.

The Joker waved her concern away with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "Forget about the knife," he declared, his attention already drifting elsewhere.

"What do you want from me?" Y/n's voice quivered with uncertainty, her gaze locked on the figure before her.

But the Joker merely chuckled, his response cryptic and evasive. "I popped by the other day. You weren't home so I just let myself in," he explained, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes at her incredulous expression.

"Yeah... I fucking noticed," Y/n retorted, looking at his purple coat.

The Joker's laughter filled the street at her remark, his amusement seemingly boundless. "How did you even get in?" Y/n demanded, her voice laced with a mixture of frustration and disbelief.

"With locks like those, it's hard not to," the Joker replied with a smirk, his gaze sweeping over her with a mixture of amusement and disdain.

"How did you even figure out where I lived?" Y/n pressed, her curiosity outweighing her fear.

But the Joker's response was infuriatingly vague. "Does it matter?" he quipped, his tone flippant as he dismissed her question with a wave of his hand.

Y/n felt frustrated as she realized the conversation was going nowhere. The Joker's vague answers only made her feel more uneasy.

"Why don't we walk back and grab your things, hmm?" the Joker suggested, his tone oddly casual despite the gravity of their situation.

Though wary of his intentions, Y/n reluctantly agreed, her steps hesitant as they set off together. But rather than walking alongside her as one might expect, the Joker lingered just slightly behind, a shadowy presence that loomed ominously in her peripheral vision.

Feeling the weight of his gaze upon her, Y/n came to a sudden halt, her unease bubbling to the surface. With a trembling voice, she addressed the Joker, her eyes fixed on the ground before her.

"Can you please walk beside me," she whispered, her words barely audible above the noise of the city.

The Joker's response was a flash of amusement, his grin spreading across his face like a twisted caricature.

"Aww, does the bunny want to hold my hand?" he teased, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

Y/n was taken aback as the Joker's gloved hand enclosed hers, his grip firm yet strangely comforting. With her heart racing, she found herself being led by the mysterious figure, a whirlwind of emotions swirling in her mind.

With every step, Y/n felt the Joker's imposing presence bearing down on her, making her feel suffocated. Despite feeling trapped, she had no choice but to accept the strange reality of their situation. She kept her eyes focused on the ground as they walked through the dimly lit streets of Gotham side by side.

As Y/n returned to the alley, she heaved a sigh of relief upon seeing her purchases relatively unscathed, their packaging intact. However, the same couldn't be said for the bag that once held them, it lay torn open, now unuseable.

Gathering her items into her arms, Y/n cast a wary glance down the alley, the eerie silence a stark contrast to the screaming that had driven her to flee in the first place. The unsettling thought made her stomach churn uncomfortably.

Beside her, the Joker stood with an air of nonchalant observation, his hands tucked into the depths of his trench coat pockets. With a snap of his fingers, he summoned two of his lackeys, who hurried to his side at his command.

"You got a bag?" the Joker asked, his tone tinged with impatience.

"Um, no boss," the two men replied in unison, exchanging a hesitant glance.

Clicking his tongue in frustration, the Joker's gaze flicked back to Y/n. "We can go grab you one if you need," one of the men offered.

"Forget it, just go sort that out and I'll meet you in an hour," the Joker dismissed them with a wave of his hand, gesturing down the alley.

As the men scurried off to comply with his orders, the Joker turned his attention back to Y/n, his gaze piercing. "Give me those," he commanded, snatching the food from Y/n's grasp before she could protest.

"I-I can—" Y/n attempted to speak up, only to be silenced by the Joker's sharp interruption.

"Quiet," he snapped, cutting her off with a steely glare.

Efficiently, the Joker began to stuff the items into his pockets, reserving the larger items like chips to hold in his hands.

"Now, let's get you back to your dorm, hmm?" the Joker suggested, turning to address Y/n once more, his demeanor unsettlingly calm amidst the chaos of the alleyway.

Reluctantly, Y/n nodded. She knew arguing with the Joker would only lead to more trouble, and she was already on edge from their encounter. Clutching the remaining items tightly to her chest, she followed the Joker as he led the way to her university hostel.

As they walked, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Every step felt heavy, weighted down by the knowledge that she was at the mercy of the Clown Prince of Crime. She stole glances at him from the corner of her eye, unable to decipher the enigmatic expression on his face.

The journey back to her dorm felt endless, each passing moment filled with tension and uncertainty. Y/n's mind raced with a myriad of questions, but she dared not voice them aloud, fearing the Joker's unpredictable response.

To her surprise, Y/n didn't need to initiate the conversation. "I'm guessing you still haven't touched my gifts," the Joker remarked, his tone casual yet tinged with annoyance.

Y/n furrowed her brow in confusion. "Gifts?" she echoed.

The Joker rolled his eyes in exasperation. "The money. The two bricks of money I gave you," he clarified impatiently.

A sense of unease crept over Y/n as she realized the gravity of the Joker's words. She hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

"I... no, I haven't used them," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly.

"Why not?" the Joker demanded, his frustration palpable.

"W-well, it's not really... my money," Y/n stammered, her nerves getting the best of her.

"Ahh, yeah it is... I gave them to you," the Joker countered sharply.

"I know that, but... it's illegal money," Y/n explained, her words rushed and hesitant.

The Joker scoffed, dismissing her concerns with a wave of his hand. "Have you seen this city? Everything here is illegal. Use the damn money," he insisted.

Feeling a knot form in her stomach, Y/n could only nod quickly in response, her mind reeling with the implications of the Joker's demands.

Finally, they reached the familiar entrance to Y/n's dormitory. With a sense of relief washing over her, she paused at the threshold, turning to face the Joker hesitantly.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The Joker reached into his pockets, retrieving the assorted treats he had hastily stuffed inside. With a flourish, he presented them to Y/n, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The Joker offered her a cryptic smile in response, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. "Anytime, Bunny," he replied, before disappearing into the shadows with an unsettling grace.

Left alone in the quiet of the night, Y/n let out a shaky breath, her heart still racing from the encounter. As she stepped into the safety of her dormitory, she couldn't shake the feeling that this wouldn't be the last time she crossed paths with the infamous Joker.

Despite being accustomed to enduring long lectures in crowded rooms, they always seemed to take a toll on Y/n. Dragging herself back to her dorm, she could already feel the weight of exhaustion bearing down on her, her mind consumed by the anticipation of the nap she desperately needed.

As she unlocked the door and stepped inside her dorm room, her tired eyes widened in shock. There, sprawled across her bed in his unmistakable attire, was the Joker.

Her initial reaction was one of sheer terror, a scream escaping her lips before she could stop herself. Hastily, she clamped her hand over her mouth, her heart pounding erratically in her chest.

"Ah! You're back!" the Joker exclaimed, rising from her bed.

Y/n's mind raced, panic overtaking her ability to form coherent thoughts. She tried to back away, but found herself trapped against the closed door, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she struggled to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding before her.

"Why are you here?" Y/n ventured, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"I was in the neighborhood, thought I'd pay you a visit," the Joker replied casually, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Y/n couldn't help but scoff inwardly at his flimsy excuse. It was clear to her that his sudden appearance had ulterior motives, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

"Don't you have crimes to commit?" she blurted out before she could stop herself, a wave of panic washing over her as soon as the words left her mouth.

To her surprise, the Joker's response was met with a sly grin rather than anger or offense. "Not for another few hours, Bunny," he quipped, his tone teasing.

Heat rushed to Y/n's cheeks at the familiar nickname, and she quickly averted her gaze, feeling a pang of embarrassment wash over her.

"Excuse me," she muttered softly, retreating to her bed and huddling against the headboard, her eyes fixed on the Joker as he settled himself at the opposite end of the bed.

As the Joker made himself comfortable, lounging against the wall with his legs crossed.

"Take your shoes off before you put your feet on my bed!" Y/n exclaimed, her voice betraying a hint of irritation.

With a grumble, the Joker complied, kicking his shoes off and allowing them to clatter to the ground. Y/n couldn't help but feel a surge of unexpected confidence at her boldness, silently thanking whatever higher power had spared her from the Joker's wrath.

Y/n found herself at a loss, her dorm now occupied by someone as unsettling as the Joker. She sat back, her gaze lingering on him uncertainly. She couldn't help but notice the scars marring his face, though she made a conscious effort to avoid dwelling on them for too long.

The scars, etched deeply into his skin, held a certain fascination for her. Even though she only caught a glimpse of the left side of his face, the wide, prominent scar demanded her attention. Despite her curiosity about their origin, she knew better than to broach the subject with someone as unpredictable as the Joker.

Suddenly, the Joker's gaze met hers, prompting her to quickly avert her eyes in embarrassment. "What are you looking at?" his tone sharp.

Y/n's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she mumbled an apology. "Sorry..." she murmured, her discomfort palpable in the air between them.

Y/n sensed movement from the corner of her eye as the Joker shifted onto his knees and crawled closer to her on the bed. Her heart pounded erratically in her chest as neared her.

"Is it the scars?" the Joker's voice cut through the tense silence, his tone deceptively innocent.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to offend you," Y/n stammered, her apology laced with genuine remorse.

The Joker furrowed his brows in response, clearly taken aback by her unexpected apology.

"Here... Why don't I give you a better look?" Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed her face, his grip firm yet surprisingly gentle as he forced her to look at him.

Y/n squirmed in discomfort, but the Joker maintained his hold, his piercing gaze locking with hers. Despite her initial unease, her eyes were drawn not to his scars, but to his own intense gaze, filled with a complexity she couldn't quite decipher.

Y/n found herself captivated by the striking contrast of the Joker's eyes against the backdrop of his black face paint. They were a mesmerizing hazel, with hints of green around the edges, drawing her in like a moth to a flame.

"What are you looking at, Bunny? I thought you wanted to see my scars," the Joker remarked, his voice surprisingly soft.

Y/n blinked, momentarily taken aback by his unexpected question. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his captivating eyes.

"You have really nice eyes," she blurted out, the words escaping before she could stop them.

The Joker's lips curved into a faint smirk at her unexpected compliment. He released her face, withdrawing his hand as he settled back on the bed, his gaze still fixed on hers.

"Why, thank you, Bunny. I do try to maintain some level of charm," he replied, his tone dripping with amusement.

Y/n shifted uncomfortably under his intense stare, unsure of what to make of the strange dynamics between them. Despite the Joker's unsettling presence, there was an inexplicable magnetism that seemed to draw her to him.

As the silence stretched between them, Y/n couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease creeping back in. She cleared her throat nervously, searching for something to break the tension.

"So... why are you really here?" she ventured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker's response hung in the air. "I just like you," he hummed, his tone casual yet laden with a mysterious undertone.

Y/n couldn't quite decipher the meaning behind his words. Was he being genuine, or was this just another one of his twisted games? And even if he did mean it, what exactly did he mean by it?

Her mind raced with questions, but she found herself at a loss for words, unsure of how to respond to the Joker's cryptic declaration. The Joker's grin widened as he observed Y/n's perplexed expression. He seemed to relish in her uncertainty, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Bunny. Just enjoy the company," he said, his voice dripping with mock sweetness.

Y/n couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of her stomach. Despite the Joker's casual demeanor, there was an underlying sense of danger that lingered around him like a dark cloud.

She forced a weak smile, nodding in response, but her mind raced with a multitude of unanswered questions. As the silence enveloped them once again, Y/n couldn't help but wonder what other surprises the Joker had in store for her.

Y/n watched with curiosity as the Joker sauntered over to her shelf, his eyes scanning the various items displayed there.

"What do we have here..." His voice held a mischievous edge as he rubbed his hands together, clearly intrigued by the contents.

His gaze landed on the CD player, and a wicked grin spread across his face. "What does this little bunny like to listen to?" he mused aloud, reaching out to press the play button.

The familiar strains of music filled the room as the CD player came to life. Y/n recognized the song instantly, it was one she had been listening to earlier that day. The chorus of "Last Cup of Sorrow" by Faith No More filled the air

As the music filled the room, the Joker's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and madness. Without warning, he extended his hand towards Y/n, a silent invitation for her to join him.

"Come on, Bunny, don't be shy," he urged, his voice laced with excitement.

Y/n hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest as she weighed her options. But before she could respond, the Joker was already closing the distance between them, his hand gripping hers firmly as he pulled her towards him.

"Let's have some fun, shall we?" he said, his grip unyielding as he began to sway to the rhythm of the music.

Caught off guard, Y/n stumbled slightly, her movements awkward and hesitant. But Joker's relentless energy was infectious, and soon she found herself being swept up in the ood dance.

As they twirled and spun around the room, Y/n couldn't help but feel a strange sense of exhilaration mingled with fear. The Joker's laughter filled the air, echoing off the walls as they danced, a twisted symphony of madness and mayhem. And amidst the chaos, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that she was being drawn deeper into the Joker's twisted world with each step they took.

"Bunny having fun, hmm?" Joker teased, his eyes alight with amusement as he watched Y/n begin to smile.

The contrast between this dance and their first encounter in the bank was stark. There were no hostages, no looming threat of violence, just the two of them, alone in her room, moving to the rhythm of her music.

"Such a pretty little thing when you smile," Joker remarked suddenly, his words sending a warm flush creeping up Y/n's cheeks.

Caught off guard by the unexpected compliment, Y/n felt a flutter of emotions swirling within her. Despite the chaos and danger that seemed to follow the Joker wherever he went, there was something strangely captivating about him in this moment, something that made her pulse quicken and her heart race.

As the song reached its climax, Joker twirled Y/n one final time, their movements becoming more frenzied and erratic with each passing moment. The room seemed to spin around them, the music echoing in their ears as they danced in a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty.

With a dramatic end, Joker dipped Y/n backwards, her heart racing as she gazed up at him, their eyes locking in a moment of intense connection. For a fleeting instant, it felt as though time stood still, as though they were the only two people in the world.

But just as quickly as it had begun, the dance came to an abrupt end. Joker released his grip on Y/n, letting her fall. She screamed as the sudden pull of gravity yanked her downward, the impact jarring as she hit the floor. Pain shot through her body, but it was nothing compared to the surge of anger that flooded her veins as she looked up at the Joker.

"What the fuck, Joker?!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with fury and betrayal.

But the Joker simply grinned down at her, his eyes gleaming with mischief and amusement. "Oops, dopy me," he quipped, his tone infuriatingly nonchalant.

Y/n could do nothing but glare.

"Well, that was fun," he remarked casually, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "But I've got places to be, Bunny. I’ll be seeing you."

Y/n's heart sank as she watched Joker turn away from her, a pang of disappointment mingling with the lingering thrill of their dance. She wanted to say something, to protest or something, but she found herself speechless, unable to form the words.

With a final smirk over his shoulder, Joker disappeared out the door, leaving Y/n alone in the silence of her room. As she sat there, still thinking about him. The way he moved with her, it was unlike anything she had experienced before. In his arms, she didn't feel the familiar grip of fear tightening around her chest, instead, there was a sense of exhilaration, a rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Dancing with him was like stepping into another world, one where she could forget about her worries and simply be in the moment.

As they moved together in perfect synchronization, she couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness wash over her. It was as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders, replaced by a buoyant feeling of joy and excitement. In that moment, there was only the music, the movement, and the electrifying connection between them.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to let go, to revel in the intoxicating thrill of the dance. And as they twirled and spun across the room, she couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, there was something special about the Joker after all.

It had been a few days since Joker had last visited her dorm room, and the memory of their dance lingered in Y/n's mind. She found herself constantly thinking about him and the strange encounters they had shared. As she lay in bed, contemplating the events of the past few days, she couldn't shake the feeling that fluttered in her stomach.

Late into the night, as the clock approached 11 PM, Y/n was just about to drift off to sleep when she heard movement outside her door. She let out a resigned sigh, assuming it was just some noisy neighbors from down the hall. However, her heart skipped a beat when her door swung open, revealing an unexpected visitor.

The creak of the door opening wide echoed through her room. She froze in her bed, the darkness of the room swallowing her up as she strained to see who had entered. Her mind raced with possibilities, but deep down, she knew exactly who it was.

The figure stepped into the room, the faint light from the hallway casting eerie shadows across the floor. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she watched the silhouette move closer, her pulse quickening with each step. She couldn't make out his face in the dim light, but she didn't need to. She knew it was him.

"Miss me, Bunny?" his voice, dripping with mischief, filled the room, sending shivers down her spine.

Y/n flicked on her bedside lamp as Joker sauntered into the room, shutting the door behind him. "What the hell?" Y/n groaned, rubbing her eyes wearily.

Joker began rifling through her drawers, pulling out clothes and inspecting them before carelessly tossing them onto the floor. Y/n shot up from her bed and approached him, annoyance evident in her voice.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" she exclaimed, gesturing to the mess he was creating.

"Don't fret, Doll. Just for a nice little outfit for you," Joker replied casually, tossing another item aside with a nonchalant grin.

"Why?" Y/n questioned, her confusion evident.

"Because, Doll, you and I are hitting the town," Joker declared, holding up a shirt for inspection before tossing it onto Y/n's bed and moving on to her bottoms.

"But I have classes tomorrow, Joker," Y/n protested.

"Uh huh," Joker murmured dismissively, paying her complaint no mind as he continued his search.

Y/n rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Well, maybe if you actually went to university, you'd understand," she retorted, taking a jab at his unconventional career choice.

"I'm too old for uni, Bunny," Joker replied with a smirk.

"You're never too old to learn," Y/n shot back.

"Fucking nerd," Joker muttered under his breath, eliciting an eye roll from Y/n.

"What are you, 12? Get a better insult," Y/n retorted. "And I hope you don’t really expect me to go out with you."

"I'm taking you one way or another," Joker stated firmly.

Y/n wanted to stay mad, but her heart was pounding with excitement. The fact that Joker wanted to hang out with her felt monumental. Joker eventually found a skirt to pair with her shirt and tossed it onto the bed.

"Get changed," Joker commanded, already moving to fetch her some shoes.

"Don't tell me what to do," Y/n muttered under her breath.

Joker turned to give her an intimidating stare. Y/n stood up, reluctantly agreeing, "Fine, I’ll change, just get out while I do."

"You can change right here, Doll, I won’t peek," Joker assured her, smirking.

"I'm inclined not to believe you," Y/n replied.

Knowing he wasn't going to leave, she sighed and grabbed a bra to put on first.

"Oh, so I'm getting the full show?" Joker teased, making Y/n blush furiously.

"Stop being a weirdo," Y/n snapped, pulling her arms through her sleeves to put her bra on underneath her shirt.

Joker dramatically pouted while inspecting her shoes. Y/n managed to get the bra on and glanced at the clothes he had chosen. It was a nice see-through shirt with patterns on it and a black skirt, she liked his style.

She removed her top and started putting on the shirt, only to hear Joker wolf whistle. Her face couldn’t have been hotter at that moment.

"Stop looking!" Y/n yelled, quickly buttoning up the shirt.

She then put on the skirt with her pajama bottoms still on, making sure Joker didn't catch any more glimpses of her than she was comfortable with. Joker sauntered over to where Y/n sat, still in awe of his audacity. As she sat on the bed, shedding her pajama bottoms discreetly beneath her skirt,

"Nice legs," he remarked, a compliment she wasn't accustomed to receiving.

Joker's casual comment caught her off guard. "Um, thank you?" Y/n responded, unsure how to react.

With the shoes in hand, Joker approached Y/n once more. Just as she reached out to take them, he surprised her by crouching down before her, lifting her foot and resting it gently on his knee. It felt surreal, her mind momentarily going blank.

With deft movements, Joker slipped the shoes onto her feet one by one, securing the straps around her ankles. His touch was surprisingly gentle, the sensation of his leather gloves against her bare skin sending tingles down her spine.

Joker stood up, his hands clapping together sharply, breaking Y/n out of her trance. "Ready, Bunny?" he asked with a grin.

Y/n simply nodded in response. Before she could fully process what was happening, Joker grabbed her hand and pulled her up, leading the way to the door.

But Y/n halted them abruptly. "Wait, we can't just walk out there! Anyone could see you!" she protested.

Joker arched an eyebrow at her. "How do you think I got in, Doll?" he retorted, not waiting for her response as he dragged her out of the dorms.

As they walked, Y/n couldn't shake the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her eyes remained fixated on their intertwined hands, her wrist held firmly in Joker's grip. It was an oddly exhilarating sensation, one that left her feeling both thrilled and apprehensive.

The cold air and the bustling sounds of the city snapped Y/n back to reality. "Joker, wait..." she began nervously, catching his attention.

Joker turned to her, a hint of impatience in his tone. "What now?" he growled.

"I... I'm sorry, I don't want to go out," Y/n admitted, her voice trembling.

Joker noticed the change in her demeanor and softened slightly. "What's wrong, Bunny?" he asked, moving closer to her.

Y/n's hands shook visibly as she spoke. "I don't do going out. I don't do crowds. I don't do being outside my room," she confessed, avoiding Joker's gaze.

Leaning in, Joker lowered himself to her eye level. "Listen, Bunny. I'll keep you safe tonight. I'll make sure you're all comfy, and nobody will bother you. It'll just be us and a couple of the guys keeping watch. You don't have to worry about a thing. How does that sound?" he whispered reassuringly.

Y/n found herself gazing into Joker's eyes, their warmth contrasting with the hardness of his exterior. She couldn't shake the urge to see his face without the paint, though she knew it was a dangerous curiosity. Despite knowing who he was and what he did, she inexplicably trusted him.

Nodding slowly, she watched as a toothy grin spread across Joker's face. He took her hand once more, leading her toward a waiting van.

"Oh, this doesn't look dodgy at all," Y/n quipped as they approached.

Joker opened the back door for her to enter first. With a polite smile, she stepped inside, Joker following and closing the door behind them. Taking a seat, Y/n looked around the interior.

"Where's the seatbelt?" she asked.

"No seatbelts here, Doll," Joker replied casually.

"Well, you better hope I don't go flying off this seat, then," Y/n scoffed.

"If you feel unsafe, you can always hold onto me, Bunny," Joker suggested, his smirk making Y/n blush once more. "And besides... Rocco's a great driver, isn't that right?" he called to the front of the van.

"Uhhh... yeah, I'd think so, boss," came the hesitant reply from the driver's seat.

Y/n's attention was drawn to the presence of two men seated in the front of the van. They seemed to be keeping to themselves, occasionally exchanging glances in the rearview mirror but otherwise remaining focused on the road ahead as they pulled out of the parking space. Their silence added to the tense atmosphere inside the vehicle, amplifying Y/n's apprehension about the night ahead.

As the van rumbled through the dimly lit streets of Gotham, Joker leaned closer to Y/n, his breath tickling her ear.

"You nervous, Bunny?" he whispered, his voice sending shivers down her spine.

Y/n swallowed nervously, her eyes darting to the men in the front seats before returning to Joker's intense gaze. "A little," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker's lips curled into a sinister grin. "Don't worry, Doll. I'll make sure you have a night to remember," he promised, his tone dripping with mischief.

As the van continued its journey through the city's streets, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at her insides. She glanced at Joker, trying to decipher his intentions from the mischievous glint in his eyes, but his expression remained inscrutable.

With each passing minute, Y/n's apprehension grew, but she knew it was too late to turn back now. She was along for the ride, wherever it might lead. She could only hope that Joker's promise of keeping her safe would hold true amidst the uncertainty of the night ahead.

"Now, Doll.. Where we’re going, I’m gonna need to bag you," Joker said, as he casually held up a burlap bag. Y/n felt a surge of anxiety at the sight.

"Wait, what's happening?" Y/n asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Joker raised a gloved hand in a calming gesture. "Relax, Bunny. I told you I'd keep you safe," he reassured her.

Despite her apprehension, Y/n found herself complying as Joker placed the bag over her head, enveloping her in darkness. She couldn't shake the feeling of fear that gripped her tightly as she waited in the unknown.

In the darkness beneath the bag, Y/n felt Joker's firm grip on her wrist as he guided her out of the van. With the van door opening, she was enveloped in a swirl of uncertainty. She hadn't dared to glance out of the tinted windows during the drive, leaving her completely at Joker's mercy.

As they walked, Y/n could feel the ground beneath her shift from rough pavement to a smoother surface, indicating they were inside a building. The silence around her was deafening, leaving her unable to decipher their location. Joker's grip on her wrist remained tight, guiding her with purpose through the mysterious space.

Just as Y/n's mind raced to make sense of the situation, she heard footsteps approaching them. "Your table is ready, sir," a quivering voice spoke, sending shivers down her spine.

Joker's grip tightened on her wrist as he pulled her along, and she strained to understand the significance of the words. Soon, they approached a second door, which opened before them. As they stepped through, the door closed behind them, enveloping them in an eerie silence that amplified Y/n's anxiety.

As they stepped into the room, the unmistakable sound of Faith No More filled the air, instantly recognizable to Y/n's ears.

As the bag was lifted from her head, Y/n blinked in the sudden light, her eyes adjusting to the scene before her. Before her stood Joker, a mischievous grin on his face as he stepped back to reveal a table set with napkins, candles, and cutlery.

"Ta-da!" Joker announced, spreading his arms with theatrical flair.

In the room, aside from a few strategically placed plants and the central table, there was no one and nothing else present.

"W-what's going on?" Y/n questioned, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

Joker rolled his eyes before pulling out a chair for her. She settled into the seat as he took his own across the table.

He grabbed one of the menu set in the middle of the table. "Pick anything you like, Doll," Joker chimed in, his eyes scanning the list of options.

Y/n took her own menu, her gaze drifting over the choices as she contemplated her selection.

Y/n glanced around the dimly lit room, her curiosity piqued by the ambiance Joker had created. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding to the mysterious atmosphere.

"What's the occasion?" Y/n asked, unable to suppress her curiosity any longer.

Joker chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Just wanted to take the little Bunny out," he replied, flashing her a grin.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in her expression. Despite her reservations, there was something undeniably intriguing about this impromptu dinner with the Joker.

“What? Is this a date or something?” Y/n's question hung in the air, laced with a nervous chuckle. She couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and apprehension about the situation.

Joker's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "If you want it to be, Doll," he replied, leaning back in his chair.

Y/n felt a rush of conflicting emotions. The idea of a date with the Joker was equal parts thrilling and terrifying. Y/n felt a wave of shyness wash over her, her cheeks flushing with warmth as she fidgeted with the menu in her hands. Every glance at Joker sent a flurry of butterflies fluttering in her stomach, making her feel more flustered with each passing moment. She struggled to maintain eye contact, her heart racing as she tried to compose herself in his presence.

"So! What's it gonna be, Doll?" Joker asked, leaning forward slightly, his eyes fixed on hers, waiting for her to tell him her order.

Y/n hesitated, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. She glanced down at the menu, trying to focus on the options in front of her. Finally, she made her choice and looked up at Joker with a tentative smile.

"I'll have the... um, the chicken alfredo, please," she said, her voice a bit softer than usual.

Joker stood up from his seat with a smirk and walked over to the door, opening it just a crack. He exchanged a few hushed words with one of his men outside before closing the door again, returning to Y/n sitting at the table.

As Joker returned to the table, the realization dawned upon her, Y/n understood the purpose behind the burlap bag and the secrecy. Joker was safeguarding her identity, shielding her from any potential trouble that could arise if her association with him became known. She appreciated his gesture, despite the unconventional means.

"So, uh, thanks for this... dinner," Y/n said, feeling a bit awkward but genuinely appreciative of the gesture.

Joker flashed a grin, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Anything for my favorite Bunny," he said, leaning back in his chair with a casual air.

Y/n couldn't help but smile at his reply. She still couldn't quite wrap her head around the enigmatic nature of their relationship, but for now, she decided to enjoy the moment and the unexpected dinner date with the notorious Joker.

As the evening progressed, Y/n found herself surprisingly at ease in Joker's company. His charismatic demeanor and witty banter kept her entertained throughout the meal, and she couldn't deny the allure of his unpredictable charm.

Between bites of food and sips of wine, they engaged in lighthearted conversation, sharing stories and exchanging laughs. Despite the peculiar circumstances of their encounter, Y/n couldn't deny that she was enjoying herself, relishing the novelty of the experience.

As the night wore on, the initial tension that had enveloped Y/n began to dissipate, replaced by a growing sense of camaraderie with the man sitting across from her. It was a strange sensation, considering who he was, but she couldn't deny the genuine connection that seemed to be forming between them.

Eventually, the meal came to an end. Joker reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills, tossing them onto the table without a second thought.

"Let's get out of here, Bunny," he said, rising from his seat and offering his hand to Y/n.

She hesitated for a moment before putting on the burlap bag again and placing her hand in his, allowing him to lead her out of the restaurant and into the night once again.

As they stepped out into the cool night air, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration tinged with apprehension. She was stepping into the unknown, guided by a man whose intentions remained shrouded in mystery.

Joker led her back to the van and took off the bag. Without a word, he gestured for Y/n to climb in, and she obliged, settling into the seat beside him. The van rumbled to life, and they began their journey through the city once more.

As they drove, Y/n's mind raced with questions, but she held her tongue, unsure of how much she dared to ask. Instead, she gazed out the window, watching the lights of Gotham blur past as they navigated the labyrinthine streets.

Eventually, they arrived back at Y/n's dorm, and Joker brought the van to a stop. He turned to her, his eyes glinting in the darkness.

"Well, Bunny, it's been a pleasure," he said, his voice laced with a hint of mischief.

Y/n nodded, a mixture of relief and reluctance swirling within her. She knew she should be wary of him, but there was something undeniably compelling about the enigmatic man beside her.

"You're not going to walk me back?" Y/n said, surprising herself with her sudden burst of confidence.

Joker's smirk widened as he stepped out of the van. "Couldn't say no to you," he replied casually.

Together, they walked in silence, the air thick with unspoken tension. Y/n stole glances at Joker, trying to decipher the enigmatic expression on his face. She couldn't quite shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye.

When they reached her dorm room, Joker stopped and turned to face her. "Well, here we are," he said, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement.

Y/n nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn't sure what to say, but she found herself reluctant to part ways with him.

"Thanks for... everything," she finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker flashed her a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Anytime, Bunny," he replied before turning on his heel.

As Joker turned back to leave, Y/n's heart raced with a sudden impulse. "Wait!" she called out, her voice echoing in the quiet night.

Surprised, Joker turned back just as Y/n rushed up to him, her hand reaching for his. Without a second thought, she pulled him close and pressed her lips against his, feeling the cool touch of his greasy face paint against her skin. Despite the unconventional sensation, she relished the moment, savoring the feel of his scars beneath her touch.

Caught off guard by Y/n's sudden kiss, Joker froze for a moment before melting into it, his surprise giving way to something more akin to amusement. As they parted, he flashed her a grin, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Well, well, Bunny," he chuckled. "Seems like you've got some surprises up your sleeve too."

Y/n felt a rush of warmth at his words, a mixture of nerves and excitement coursing through her veins. But before she could respond, Joker's expression shifted, his gaze darting around as if sensing something amiss.

With shaky steps, she turned and hurried back towards her dorm, her heart still pounding in her chest. Each step felt heavier than the last, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and excitement.

As she reached her door, she fumbled with her keys, her hands trembling with nervous energy. Finally unlocking the door, she practically stumbled into her room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Leaning against the door, Y/n let out a shaky breath, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and exhilaration. She couldn't believe what had just happened, the kiss still lingering on her lips like a bittersweet memory.

Feeling a rush of emotions, she sank down onto her bed, burying her face in her hands. It was all so overwhelming. As the reality of her actions sunk in, Y/n's mind raced with a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. She had just kissed the Joker, arguably one of the most dangerous and unpredictable individuals in Gotham City. It was a reckless move, one that could have dire consequences.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she replayed the moment in her mind, the feel of his lips against hers, the roughness of his scars. It was surreal, almost like a dream, and yet, it had happened.

But along with the rush of adrenaline came a wave of uncertainty and fear. What would happen now? Would the Joker seek her out again? And if he did, what would he want from her?

Y/n shook her head, trying to push away the barrage of questions crowding her mind. For now, all she could do was wait and see, her heart still racing from the daring act she had just committed.

Y/n knew it was a terrible idea to go out the night before. She had endured three consecutive two-hour lectures, running on a mere five hours of sleep. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her as she trudged back to her dorm, fantasizing about the blissful nap awaiting her.

Y/n's exhaustion seemed to fade away as she caught wind of the conversation in the common room. Curiosity piqued, she quickened her pace, eager to hear more about the news report.

"Holy shit, turn up the TV," one of her fellow students exclaimed.

"Infamous criminal, Joker, was seen last night with an unknown woman, entering a restaurant," the news report blared from the television.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she absorbed the information. Anxiety gnawed at her as she contemplated the implications of being linked to such a notorious figure. Standing in the doorway, Y/n listened intently to the news report echoing from the common room.

The news report continued, "The sighting has sparked widespread speculation about the identity of the mysterious woman seen with the notorious criminal. Eyewitnesses claim the woman appeared to be in her early twenties, possibly younger, but her face was obscured by a bag as they entered the restaurant. Authorities are urging anyone with information about this incident to come forward."

Y/n's heart raced as she realized the gravity of the situation. She had been seen with the Joker, and now her anonymity was at risk. She knew she had to be more cautious than ever before.

The news report continued with a solemn tone, "In a chilling turn of events, just hours after the sighting, reports flooded in of a violent attack attack against several political figures late last night, with witnesses describing the perpetrator as none other than the Joker himself. It was described as a chaotic scenes as the Joker and his accomplices unleashed mayhem in the heart of the city, targeting high-profile individuals attending a gala event."

Y/n's stomach dropped as she listened to the horrifying news. She couldn't believe she had been with him just hours before, completely unaware of his plans. Fear and guilt gripped her as she realized the danger she had unwittingly placed herself in by associating with the Joker.

Y/n felt a wave of nausea wash over her as the reality sank in. The man she had shared a meal and a moment with had gone on to commit atrocious acts of violence. The guilt weighed heavy on her conscience as she rushed to her room, seeking solace in solitude. Each step felt heavier than the last, burdened by the knowledge of her unwitting association with a criminal of such magnitude. She couldn't shake off the feeling of disgust and betrayal, retreating into her room to grapple with her tumultuous emotions alone.

Y/n was overwhelmed by a mix of regret and disbelief. How could she have been so reckless as to kiss someone without truly knowing who they were? She cursed herself for her naivety and ignorance, realizing that she had allowed herself to be drawn into the orbit of a dangerous individual. From that moment on, she vowed to steer clear of any further association with him, determined to distance herself from the enigmatic figure who had deceived her so thoroughly.

A few days passed, and Y/n tried her best to put the incident behind her. However, her resolve was put to the test when, one evening, there was a knock on her dorm room door. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she approached cautiously, heart racing as she wondered who could be on the other side. Opening the door tentatively, she was met with the unmistakable figure of the Joker, standing there with his characteristic grin.

"Happy to see me, Bunny?" The Joker's voice was laced with amusement as he stood casually in the doorway, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she took in the sight of the Joker standing at her doorstep. She hesitated, unsure of how to react, but before she could say anything, he pushed his way into her dorm room with that ever-present smirk on his face.

"I got you a little something," Joker announced, producing a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. The contrast between the bright, colorful blooms and his dark, enigmatic presence sent a shiver down Y/n's spine.

"J-Joker... You shouldn't be here," Y/n stammered, her voice trembling as he pushed the bouquet of flowers into her hands.

The Joker merely chuckled, unfazed by her unease. "There's a lot of things I shouldn't do, Doll. But here I am," he retorted, ignoring her plea.

"You can’t be here… Please, just go," Y/n pleaded again, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

Joker's expression softened slightly as he noticed the tears welling up in Y/n's eyes. He took a step closer, but she instinctively backed away, her fear palpable.

"Bunny, what's wrong?" Joker's voice was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor.

"I just... need some time alone," Y/n replied, her voice barely above a whisper, her emotions too overwhelming to articulate.

Joker hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning Y/n's face as if searching for answers. Finally, he nodded slowly, acknowledging her request.

"Alright, Bunny. I'll leave you be," Joker said softly, his voice carrying a hint of concern.

Y/n watched as Joker turned to leave, his presence disappearing from her dorm room. Alone once again, she sank onto her bed, clutching the bouquet of flowers tightly against her chest as tears began to fall freely.

She grappled with conflicting emotions, torn between the fear of what Joker might do if he discovered the truth and the guilt of rejecting his gesture of kindness. The bouquet of flowers lay on her bed, a poignant reminder of the tangled mess she found herself in. Y/n felt trapped, uncertain of how to handle the situation she was in.

As Y/n made her way back to her dorm, an unease settled over her. Another week had passed since Joker visited her. Every shadow seemed to harbor a lurking threat, and she quickened her pace, eager to reach the safety of her room. However, her apprehension only intensified when she was stopped by someone from her floor.

"Got yourself a boyfriend or something, huh?" the girl asked with a knowing smirk.

Y/n's confusion deepened. “Uhh.. No," she replied cautiously.

The girl nodded toward Y/n's dorm room. "Guess you've got a secret admirer then," she said before walking away.

Heart pounding, Y/n approached her door and froze at the sight before her. Another bouquet of flowers, even larger than before, greeted her, accompanied by a playing card resting beside it. As she reached for the card, her fingers trembled, and she turned it over to reveal the unmistakable image of a joker.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes widening in disbelief. The sight that greeted her inside was both stunning and terrifying. Flowers, dozens of them, filled her room, arranged in an array of colors and shapes.

Y/n stumbled forward, dropping the bouquet she held in her trembling hands. As she surveyed the room, her heart hammered against her chest. Four bouquets adorned her desk, their vibrant hues contrasting sharply with the pale surface. Another three lay scattered across her bed, their delicate petals casting shadows in the dim light. And yet more flowers, at least twenty, were strewn haphazardly throughout the room, their sweet fragrance mingling in the air.

Fear clenched at her insides as she realized the implications of this gesture. Y/n stood there, stunned by the sheer extravagance of the display. Never before had anyone shown her such generosity or tenderness, and coming from someone like the Joker, it only meant trouble.

Given the fact that this man killed for a living and enjoyed it, receiving such affectionate gifts from him carried a weighty significance. It hinted at a depth of feeling and a seriousness in his affection that Y/n found both bewildering and unsettling.

Inspecting her desk, Y/n noticed several scattered playing cards, one of which bore writing along the face of it. She picked it up and read the message: ‘Sorry I couldn't give these in person, Bunny. Hope you're feeling better.’ Beneath the message, there was a small doodle of a bunny.

The message offered little comfort, especially considering the likelihood that Joker had likely gone on to commit some heinous act afterward, perhaps even something as dreadful as blowing up a school bus.

Y/n found herself utterly lost, grappling with a sense of powerlessness. Yet, she knew she couldn't afford to succumb to fear any longer. Having the Joker show up uninvited was no longer an option. The next time she saw him, Y/n knew she had to put a stop to this.

Despite the danger of navigating Gotham's streets at night, Y/n had grown accustomed to it. It was a routine she had mastered, whether it was grabbing late-night essentials from the convenience store or simply wandering the dimly lit alleys. But tonight was different, tonight, she felt the presence of danger looming around every corner.

As she hurried along the deserted streets, Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched. Every shadow seemed to conceal a hidden threat, every flicker of movement sent a jolt of apprehension through her veins. But deep down, she knew that somehow, some way, her path would intersect with the Joker's once again.

Tonight was the night in which Y/n would confront Joker and declare what ever was happening between the two of them would not happen again.

Y/n's mind was occupied as she walked along the sidewalk, her thoughts consumed by the upcoming confrontation with the Joker. Suddenly, a group of men passed by, one of them coming to an abrupt halt.

"Hey... I know this chick," he exclaimed, pointing directly at Y/n.

Startled, Y/n turned to face them. "Excuse me?" she replied, her voice tinged with apprehension.

"Yeah, you're the one who put us in the shits with the Joker," another man chimed in, his tone accusatory.

Recognition dawned on Y/n as she realized who these men were. Y/n's horror deepened as she recognized the men who had attempted to mug her when the Joker intervened in that dark alley. The memories flooded back, vivid and unsettling.

As the men closed in on her, memories of that terrifying encounter surged through Y/n's mind. She instinctively stepped back, trying to distance herself from the group, but they closed in, their faces contorted with malice.

"Should've kept your mouth shut back then, girlie," one of them snarled, shoving her roughly.

Y/n stumbled backward, her heart racing with fear. She knew she was in trouble, trapped in this menacing situation with no one to help her.

“B-but… I didn’t s-say anything. It wasn’t my fault..” Y/n’s eyes welled with tears.

As the men continued to harass her, Y/n's mind raced, searching desperately for a way out. She knew she couldn't take them on physically, but she had to find a way to escape. With each push and taunt, her fear turned to determination.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Ah, the old, familiar places.."

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she recognized the voice. It was him. The Joker.

As soon as the Joker's voice rang out, the men froze in terror, their faces paling. Without hesitation, they turned to flee just as they did last time, but before they could take a step, two of Joker's henchmen emerged from the shadows and grabbed them, preventing their escape. The men struggled against the firm grip of Joker's men.

"Bunny, Henshaw over here will escort you back to the van. I've got some unfinished business to attend to," Joker declared, his gaze fixed on the trembling men.

Y/n felt a mix of relief and fear as one of Joker's men, presumably Henshaw, firmly grasped her shoulder and led her away from the scene. She cast a nervous glance back at Joker, unsure of what was about to unfold. Y/n watched as Joker took something from his coat, likely a knife, and moved towards the first man.

"I suggest you look away," Henshaw advised, gently nudging her towards the van.

Feeling a knot form in her stomach, Y/n obeyed, knowing it was wise to heed his warning as the piercing screams pierced the air behind her.

Sitting in the back of the van, Y/n's breaths came in heavy, her hands trembling as the screams echoed outside. She pressed her hands against her ears, trying to block out the horrifying sounds. In the front seat, Henshaw shifted uncomfortably, glancing back at her.

"Uhh... You want me to put on the radio?" Henshaw offered.

Y/n nodded, grateful for any distraction. Henshaw fiddled with the radio, but even the music couldn't drown out the haunting echoes of agony. Y/n felt utterly helpless, unsure of what to do in such a harrowing situation.

Y/n's heart pounded with conflicting emotions. On one hand, she had achieved her goal of finding Joker, but the situation had spiraled out of control. He was out there, committing acts of violence in her name. While she couldn't deny that those men probably deserved it, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease and guilt.

Tonight was supposed to be about confronting Joker and ending whatever twisted connection they had, but now he was killing people for her. The thought of facing Joker now filled her with dread. Would he turn his rage on her next and kill her, or would he simply make her life a living hell? Y/n had no answers, only fear and uncertainty about what lay ahead.

As Y/n grappled with her conflicting emotions, another wave of realization hit her. Despite the chaos and violence that seemed to follow him wherever he went, Joker had shown her a side of himself that she had never experienced before with anyone else. His gestures of affection had left a lasting impression on her, stirring feelings she had never known.

She couldn't deny the way her heart raced in his presence, or the warmth that spread through her when he treated her with tenderness. Joker made her feel special in a way that no one else ever had, and that made her dilemma even more agonizing.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/n was jolted back to reality when the van door was pulled open, revealing Joker standing there. Behind him lay the aftermath of his violent confrontation, a grim reminder of the darkness that lurked within him. As he closed the door, Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over her, uncertain of what would come next.

As Joker settled into the seat across from her, the tension in the van seemed to thicken. Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with a multitude of conflicting thoughts and emotions.

Joker's gaze met hers, and for a moment, there was silence between them. Y/n couldn't bring herself to break the silence, unsure of what to say or how to address the situation unfolding before her.

Finally, Joker spoke, his voice low and measured. "You okay, Bunny?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle given the circumstances.

Y/n swallowed hard, her throat feeling dry. "I... I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joker's expression softened slightly, and he reached out to gently squeeze her hand. "You don't have to be scared, Doll," he said reassuringly. "I'll always keep you safe."

Despite his words, Y/n couldn't shake the unease that gnawed at her. She knew that being involved with Joker meant being thrust into a world of danger and chaos, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to face the consequences.

But as she looked into Joker's eyes, she couldn't deny the strange pull she felt toward him, the inexplicable connection that seemed to draw her closer to him with each passing moment. Whether it was the thrill of danger or something deeper, Y/n couldn't say for certain.

“You have something to say..I can tell,” Joker's voice was rough and impatient, cutting through the tense silence that hung between them.

“You don't know me that well,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to muster up the courage to confront him.

Joker raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable as he regarded her. She could feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on her, making her feel small and vulnerable.

“Listen, Bunny. I ain't known for my patience, so you better start tal—” Joker's words were abruptly cut off by Y/n's confession.

“I don't want you to visit me anymore,” she blurted out, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to meet his gaze.

The air in the van seemed to grow heavy with tension as Joker's expression shifted, a dangerous glint entering his eyes. Despite her fear, Y/n stood her ground, her heart pounding in her chest as she awaited his response.

“What did you say, Bunny?” Joker's voice was deceptively light, but the intensity behind his words sent a shiver down her spine.

“I-I don't think you should visit me anymore,” Y/n stammered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

“Think or want, Doll. Make up your mind,” Joker's tone was mocking, his words laced with an underlying threat that sent a chill down her spine.

As the two men in the front of the van stepped out, leaving them alone, Y/n felt a sense of dread wash over her. She knew she had to stand her ground, to assert her boundaries, no matter the consequences.

“This can't happen anymore,” she stated firmly, her voice quivering with emotion.

“This, what is this,” Joker's question hung in the air, his eyes boring into hers as if searching for the truth hidden within her words.

“I don't know! I don't know what this is, but whatever it is can't happen anymore!” Y/n finally snapped, her frustration and fear bubbling to the surface as she confronted the enigmatic man before her.

Joker's gaze bore into Y/n, his eyes flickering with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. She could feel the weight of his presence pressing in on her, his very aura demanding attention and compliance. Joker's demeanor shifted, his previously calm facade cracking as he leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"You're telling me to stay away?" he asked, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down Y/n's spine.

For a moment, there was a tense silence between them, broken only by the distant sounds of the city outside the van. Y/n's heart hammered in her chest, her nerves on edge as she awaited Joker's response.

"I... I can't do this anymore," Y/n stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's too much. I can't."

“You don't get to decide that, Bunny," he said, his words laced with a hint of menace.

Y/n recoiled slightly, her fear mounting as she realized the gravity of her words. She had never seen Joker like this before, and the sight sent a chill down her spine.

Joker's expression hardened, his features twisting into a mask of barely contained fury. "You think you can just walk away from me?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

"I-I can't do this anymore, Joker, please!" she stammered, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and defiance.

Joker's lips curled into a predatory smirk, sending a chill down Y/n's spine. "You knew what you were getting into when you kissed me, Doll," he said, his tone dripping with dark amusement. "You can't just walk away now."

Y/n's eyes brimmed with tears, her voice trembling with emotion. "Y-you don't understand, Joker... I'm scared!"

"Of what, Bunny? I ain't touched you," Joker retorted, his tone flippant as he dismissed her fear.

"B-but what if you do? You just killed a group of men outside! How am I any different?" Y/n cried out, her voice breaking as she struggled to contain her fear. "For fuck's sake! You're a criminal, being near you is illegal!"

"Bunny, you need to listen to me right now," Joker said, dropping to his knees before her, gently cradling her face in his hands.

"I would never touch a hair on your body that you didn’t want me to," Joker assured her, his gaze unwavering. "And the law? Pft! Forget about it... This city was fucked before I came along. Now, I'm having a play."

Y/n's lip quivered as she absorbed his words.

"And I'll make sure they never lay a finger on you... Imma keep my little Bunny safe," Joker murmured, his voice surprisingly tender.

Overwhelmed by emotions, Y/n burst into tears, collapsing into his chest. Joker enveloped her in his arms, offering comfort. In that moment, she surrendered to her feelings. Despite her efforts to deny it, she couldn't deny the pull she felt towards Joker. She had never experienced such emotions before, and she was unwilling to let go of them now.

As Y/n's tears subsided, she felt Joker's grip loosen. He pulled away slightly, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away her tears with his thumbs.

"You're safe with me, Bunny," Joker reassured her, his gaze soft yet intense.

Y/n nodded, feeling a mix of relief and uncertainty wash over her. She knew she was diving into dangerous waters by allowing herself to be drawn to Joker, but at that moment, she couldn't deny the undeniable connection between them.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Joker planted a sloppy kiss on her forehead, his touch surprisingly tender as he rubbed her arms with his gloved hands. Y/n felt a rush of warmth and comfort flood her senses, despite the chaos surrounding them.

"Let's get you home, Bunny," Joker said softly, his voice carrying a sense of reassurance that eased her anxieties.

She realized that whatever unfolded between them would likely be filled with danger and uncertainty. Yet, in that moment, she found herself surprisingly unfazed by the prospect. The way he made her feel was unlike anything she had experienced before, and for her, that was enough.

For better or for worse, she had chosen to embrace the chaos, to walk alongside the Joker, wherever their twisted journey might lead them.

A/N: So yeah, this story became way more cuter than I anticipated and hoped for..oops. I originally wanted this to be more dark and shit with more of the stalker-y kinda shit but I kinda got distracted..by bad So if yous want some more Joker but more unhinged and less cute shit, feel free to request and I may or may not be in the middle of writing a Joker fic that is a bit Dead Dove 👀 (I say may because I have no idea when I will finish writing it) Also, I was listening to Faith No More while writing this, so that's why I added them here. Slay But thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed. 💚

#fanfic #dc joker #health ledger joker x reader #ledger joker x reader #the joker #heath ledger #heath ledger joker #the dark knight #the dark knight trilogy #batman #batman joker #joker x reader #reader insert #reader with anxiety #ooc joker #ooc

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chanelgrll · 2 months ago

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A very killer christmas

Basically a continuation of offering to spend Christmas with ronin in the dlc! Credits to rosesrot for the first two lines of dialogue (from the dlc). First time writing one of these sorry if it sucks </3

"I can't fix it but... If you want we can spend it together? I'll be here and we can just... talk, hang out, game, whatever you want. Help you through today. Does that sound good?" "Yeah... Guess that's better than murdering godforsaken parents out there. You're... heh... you're a rotten saint. I appreciate it."

You shut your laptop like you’re closing the coffin on your responsibilities, bag slung over your shoulder, the apartment door creaking closed behind you like a final breath. It's cold out, not enough to bite, but enough to make you feel something. Christmas, of all days. And for once, it’s not bitter. You’re walking the path to Ronin’s place, a slow, familiar trail. Phone out, map open, not because you need it but because your fingers are too restless to stay still.

This is your first Christmas with him. Your first time calling him yours in December, Christmas.

Ronin’s house is a strange little den of sins and warmth, contradiction etched into every wall. You don’t knock. Would feel too formal for the devil you’ve chosen to love. Instead, you creep to the window, peer in — and there they are: those stupid little red horns peeking above the couch. A twisted halo for the man who once swore he’d never celebrate a holiday again.

You slip through the window, quiet, not sneaky. He turns his head, smile slicing across his face like a knife carving joy.

“Saint Nick, that you?” he grins, a devil dressed in mockery.

“Merry Christmas, loser,” you say, just before tackling him into a hug like you hadn’t been starving for it the whole damn week. His arms close around you like iron chains. It’s been weeks since you’ve touched him, busy drowning in half-written stories and deadlines that don’t care you’ve got a heart. He breathes out into the crook of your neck, and the world stills.

You glance around, the same clutter, the same ungodly symbols scratched into the corners. There's more of them now. It’s his way of surviving the season, probably. Drawing sigils instead of slashing parents. But that’s why you’re here. You’re the talisman this year.

Before your thoughts can crawl too far, Ronin scoops you up like you weigh nothing, deposits you on his bed, and looks through his stack of VHS tapes.

“Wanna watch somethin’?” he asks, the corner of his mouth curled up in a smile.

They’re all horror. Of course they are. Slashers, hauntings, twisted little films with too much blood and not enough plot, his idea of romance. You nod, because you love that part of him. The grotesque. The familiar.

You close your eyes for a moment, but open them again when you feel him crawling toward you, jacket off, expression soft in the low red light. He straddles you, arms on either side, hovering like a question.

Then he pulls something from his pocket.

“Found it,” he says, trying to hide the smile. Dangles the mistletoe above your head like it’s a weapon. “Misaki said this plant’s got kissing powers or somethin’. We oughta test it.”

You blink. “Ugh. Guess I owe you a kiss, then. What a tragedy.”

He leans in. Stops just shy of your lips. Breath warm. Voice lower. “Pretty,” he murmurs, and you forget how to inhale.

His hand slides to your jaw, firm, and then his lips meet yours like a slow exorcism. Desperate. Familiar. There’s a hunger in him that didn’t exist in spring, a softness laced with too many broken things. The kiss deepens, jaw tilting, hands gripping, and then he breaks away to mouth at your neck. Kisses, bites, teeth scraping skin like he wants to leave a map of himself behind.

You laugh, breathless. “Ro—hey! That tickles!”

He grins into your throat. “Thanks for coming by. Haven’t not killed someone on Christmas in...well. It’s been a bit.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, voice suddenly quieter. “Still. You here. In my hellhole. Warms the heart, if I had one.” He flops beside you, hand brushing yours. “You takin’ care of yourself?”

“Trying,” you reply, rolling onto your side. His fingers trace your face, nose to lips, slow and thoughtful. No smirk. Just him, raw, honest, a little haunted.

He’s clingy tonight. But you get it. December’s cruel. Especially to men like him.

“I knew you missed me,” you tease.

“Shut up, darlin'.” He shifts closer, buries himself against you like he could disappear inside your skin. One leg hooked over yours, arms curling around your torso. You breathe in: citrus, iron, gasoline — Ronin. Your fingers card through his hair, and he exhales, moving his hands under your shirt.

The TV flickers, painting him in pale light. He looks unreal. Beautiful in the way fire looks beautiful, right before it devours.

It’s mad, isn’t it? A year ago you were barely surviving his death threats. Now you’re surviving each other.

But this—this is different. This is sacred.

Your shirt’s ridden up. His fingers skim your waist, light and exploratory. Your breath stutters. He notices. Of course he notices. He’s a predator before he’s a boyfriend.

His hand drifts up, slow, thumb grazing below your ribs. You stop breathing. He hovers again, that same question in his eyes.

And then he’s kissing you again, fierce now, greedy, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish. Like you’re a ghost and he’s never believed in the afterlife.

He pulls back, just enough to look.

You're laying there, flushed, hair a mess, neck covered in marks.

His face shifts. Something like reverence, or horror? Like loving you might actually be the thing that kills him. He kisses you again, hard.

And then—

ding!

Your phone vibrates. A message from your agent.

You groan. Reality, that miserable beast.

Ronin chuckles darkly. “Can’t catch a break, huh, sweetheart?”

“No, no, don’t worry. I’m here for you, remember?” you say, brushing the notification away.

He scowls. Ruffles your hair. “Tch. You bein’ here doesn’t mean you gotta bleed out for me, babe. I’m your fuckin’ boyfriend. I do love you a li, y’know.”

You raise an eyebrow. “A little?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

He hops up, grabs his old Gameboy like it’s a sacred relic. “Wanna play?”

You sit up, grin spreading. “Hell yeah.”

“You’re already in hell, darling,” he says, that devil’s smile back on his lips.

And you are. But it’s warm here. And the devil’s arms are wide open.

#ronin x reader #ronin beaufort #killer chat #visual novel #killer chat ronin #kc ronin #kc x reader #killer chat x reader #ronin beaufort x reader #kc #killer chat fanfic

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blueiscoool · 5 months ago

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1,800-Year-Old Gold Ring with 'Venus the Victorious' Carving Discovered in France

An 1,800-year-old gold ring with a carving depicting Venus, a Roman goddess associated with victory, has been discovered in Brittany.

Archaeologists in France have discovered an 1,800-year-old gold ring with a chiseled portrait of Venus, a Roman goddess associated with victory in battle, in addition to a handful of coins from a much later era, when the Carolingian Empire ruled the region.

The ring was found in an "exceptional state of preservation" near the town of Pacé, in Brittany, according to a translated statement from the French National Institute of Preventive Archaeological Research (INRAP). Its gemstone bears a carving of Venus Victrix, which translates to "Venus the Victorious," according to INRAP. The gemstone is a nicolo, or a type of onyx that is cut so it has a faint bluish layer over a thicker layer of black. This centerpiece is framed in gold, with linear patterns etched around it.

The ring dates to the second or third century A.D., when the Roman Empire ruled the region, which explains why it was discovered on a Roman road. The road still has ruts, which indicate that wheeled vehicles travelled along it, probably to service people who lived in a nearby settlement. It's unknown who the ring belongs to or how it ended up on the Roman road.

Medieval coins

At the same site, archaeologists also discovered the remains of a medieval hamlet that flourished around 1,300 years ago. Archaeologists at the site found the remnants of houses, farmers' fields, pastures and underground silos used for storage. It seems that the buildings were constructed using earth, wood, plaster and adobe, while the roofs were made with plant-based materials.

The most "exceptional" discovery from this layer was a dozen coins that date to the ninth to 10th centuries A.D. that were deposited together.

The coins date to a time when the area was ruled by the Carolingian Empire, which encompassed most of modern-day France and neighboring parts of western Europe. However, their empire was weakened by raids launched by the Vikings, which forced them to cede land to Viking groups. The hamlet itself appears to have been abandoned during the 10th century, during the Viking Age. However it's not clear if its abandonment and the deposition of the coins is because of Viking raids.

Other artifacts found in the hamlet include the remains of tableware, cooking pots and millstones used to grind grain.

By Owen Jarus.

#1800-Year-Old Gold Ring with 'Venus the Victorious' Carving Discovered in France #Brittany #gold #gold ring #roman gold ring #gold jewelry #ancient jewelry #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #roman history #roman empire #roman art #ancient art

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fushiguruuzzzz · 4 months ago

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wc 885. grief. death.

grieving you was the most difficult thing tetsuro kuroo had ever done.

there were days where he found himself turning to his left when he thought of something funny, only to be met with aching silence and the whisper of a presence that is no longer to be. as he walked in the streets, his fingers twitched with the urge to reach out, but his conscious stopped the muscle memory from acting on itself under the recognition that your presence was nowhere to be seen. the warmth radiated from your being no longer enveloped him, no longer smothered him in the affection that came with basking in the light that was you. there was a dooming emptiness that followed him everywhere, nothingness that never had the capacity to speak up yet still embedding itself into his heart and expanding within until it was a hollow shell of something that once beat for you.

his skin shed the familiarity of your touch, the way soft hands had once cradled his face and smoothed over the ridges etched into him by years of being strong. he no longer felt strong. the composure had been torn from him the moment your eyes fell shut for good, as if you had desperately grasped to him yet only brought with you his ability to remain who he had thought he was to the other realm. the dips of your palms, those that had felt personally carved to slot against his bone structure, were a mess of lines and plush flesh that seeped so deep into his skin he could no longer recount it off the top of his head.

he remembered you. he promised himself he could do that, and he was always confident in his ability to memorize things. after all, you had been his most cherished subject. but there were days where it simply was not enough; the unfulfilled love he no longer had a place to deposit consuming him from the inside out. and although the steady rhythm of your heart was engraved into the song of his soul, it no longer beat, and that was agonizing. what had once been a melody of bliss and youth had turned to the blues, a soft tune telling the story of tears shed over a life meant to live, but left abandoned.

kuroo was always the shoulder to lean on, the rock in the midst of raging tides. but now he found himself collapsed on the floor of a bedroom you had shared long ago, chest constricting with a phantom pain and breaths rapid as if the oxygen was not enough to keep him going. his shoulders shook as the sobs racked through him, each one crawling up his throat more painful than the last. what was he supposed to do when his rock was the one that had been ripped out from under him — was the reason his soul had been corrupt at all? for once, he felt lost. the memory of your voice had begun to fade no matter how many times he replayed old videos, and he could no longer find it in himself to imagine you guiding him through it. every word twisted with the shudder of death, and each time he pictured your face there was a swirling darkness in the horizon that reached out to you and snatched you away all over again. a blade of grief had been punctured into the tender bits of his soul — or was it just that he could not bring himself to deny the very thing that had once held you, too? the cool metal had once relished in the sweet embrace of your warm blood and, no matter how far into the afterlife his dreams brought him, that was closer to you than he had ever been.

every bit of his being ached, bones worn and chipped. he still wore his signature grin every day — maybe to put up a front and maybe because he knew the way it brought your mood up seeing him happy — but he was growing increasingly exhausted with pretending his future had not shattered and cut his hands as he sought out the shards. that grin was pulled into a straight line now, lips parting with a cry far too often. no matter how hard he bit down on his cheek, they just could not stop. he felt empty and sorrowful, a cocktail of dizzying negativity, as though his soul was so distraught without you he did not even know how to grieve. this was not the way he wanted to figure out soulmates were real. if he was so intertwined with you, why was it that he was left here, wrapped up in someone that ceased to exist?

why was it that he was here and you no longer had the privilege? what made him worthy of life more than you were, and yet doomed to eternal suffering? why was he the one left tracing your face in tear stained polaroids as if somehow, memorizing you a little further could bring you back to you?

seeking did not always lead to gentle findings. no matter how much tetsuro sought out the euphoria of having you breathing, he would only ever be met with dusty recounting of the millisecond it stopped.

🏷️.- @sh0ot1ngst4r @azinniyaa @kashee-h @fiannee @bubybubsters @lizbix @mayyhaps @adoresia @gumims @cinnamxnangel @sickpatientt @aldebrana @cancelledkat @wizzzierr @jadeyaps

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writingmeraki · 7 months ago

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ribs — a rafe cameron series.

i. and the ocean is still the same. disgustingly blue and terrifyingly deep.

❝ In which your cousin thought it was a great idea to basically deceive you and here you are, spending one month at Outer Banks. Perhaps, meeting new people could interest you more into the 'beach' lifestyle? Well then, only one way to find out.

pairing : richboy!rafe cameron x tourist/newbie!gn!reader, brief one-sided enemies to acquaintances to friends to lovers. genre : fluff, humour, angst, romance, friendship, coming of age, realisations and epiphanies, contemplations and questioning, summer seasonnn!! also ft. rest of the obx characters and ocs too! chapter warnings : cussing, nothing alarming in particular but lmk if i missed anything! not proofread. series inspo : ribs by lorde. | series playlist : here

w.c : 4.2k | NEXT

“Are you being serious right now?!”

You turned to look at your cousin as you stepped out of the car, immediately regretting it the moment your feet dug deep into the hot sand. Hissing in annoyance at the feeling of sand between your toes, you glared at your now sheepish yet delighted cousin.

Joshua or as you preferred to call him Josh and sometimes Joshie, just to spite the hell out of him, rolled his eyes at your dramatic antics.

“Oh come on, we got this one chance to spend a vacation finally out of our damned hometown, of course it should be a beachy one!”

“I’ll show you who the real bit-”

“Please, try to think of it!”

Sighing out, you shut the car door and leaned on it. The sun was blistering hot as you looked ahead. Goddamnit. You knew you should not have tried to get some shut eye in the car. Perhaps if you stayed awake then you’d know you were in fact, not heading towards the chilly mountains as you’d have thought you were and then you would have disagreed with Joshie and went by your own.

But no, he just had to be the only person you happened to be great friends with throughout your life that stuck to you like he was somehow etched to your side by fate since you could speak.

Hearing movement, you saw him come and stand beside you, looking at you with that look. The one that would always manage to get something out of you exactly how he’d want.

“Come on! This is like the only summer ever that we’re getting this chance. Do you really want to spend summer, a season meant for sunny beaches and the vibrant ocean, in the mountains?”

Scoffing at him, you clicked your tongue and spoke in a sharp tone, “You know damn well, how much I hate the beach! The ocean in itself! It’s all so…so cliche and honestly a little terrifying, the ocean is scary.”

If someone else would have heard you, they would have probably mocked you, but Josh was the one who knew you, he knew everything and yet he went ahead and did this.

“Okay how about this, we make a deal?” You raised your eyebrows at him in question, wondering what sort of ideas must be running behind his cunning doe eyes. Doe eyes that seemed to always somehow make you do as he pleased if he just as much flashed them at you widely.

“One month here, in Kildare and the rest wherever you want, okay? Besides, I already rented us a villa with half of our allowance as deposit and uh…yeah it’d be a waste.”

Face palming yourself, a groan slipped past your lips as you rubbed the bridge of your nose, “You-how-wow just wow. I am not sure whether to be even more pissed or honestly slightly impressed you planned this out so well.”

Looking up, you looked back at the view that raised up more emotions, falling more to the negative side than anything, and thought about it.

It had been a while since you smelt that familiar signature aquatic scent, since you saw just how truly blue water could be, just how much the sand always seemed to find itself into each nook of your feet, making it impossible to remove it.

It had been a while since…since everything.

Maybe this was another chance.

“Fine. One month. I’m counting and by the end, we’re out.”

[ A few moments later ]

The villa turned out to be nothing like you’d expected.

In a way, it was way beyond your zero expectations and if you had any, it was also above that. Other than the fact it was nearer to the ocean than you’d have preferred, it was simply heaven on Earth.

“You can take the bigger bedroom.”

“Yeah you don’t need to tell me that.”

Josh scoffed at you but smiled when he saw you looking around in amazement. He was glad you agreed more quickly to this than he thought you would have. He was worried you would have gone back home instead of even thinking of going somewhere else.

Then again, you would have likely gone even here than be stuck in the summer back there.

“Are you sure this was like what, only half the money we have?” You touched the antique vase that laid in the middle of your bedroom hallway. It was a mix of indigo blue and white that made it look like those fancy artworks you’d seen in expensive stores.

“Yeah it was! But also, this is sort of a friend’s too.”

“You have friends? Well other than me of course.”

“I do and also fuck you.”

Grinning in victory, you tugged your luggage to the front of your new temporary bedroom.

“Well, I am sorry “Mr.I can’t socialize for the life of me” I didn’t exactly think you’d have such friends, not ones who owned such villas at least.”

“Technically, it’s not hers but her father’s. She sort of hooked me up with the discounted rent.”

Opening the door to your bedroom, you wondered if your jaw could drop any lower as your eyes took in the closest you’d ever get to living in an actual bedroom straight out of a magazine room in front of you. Oh wait, you were going to live in this! Only for a month, but it counted!

The large bed in the middle had the prettiest shade of blue sheets, with the same on the curtains that covered a large window which looked out into the sea. There were even those cool sitting arrangements in the far left before the window, with the two white sofa chairs and marble table between with a golden showpiece on top. You thought those only existed in rich people’s life but this seemed like your life for once.

“Her?” Your brain snapped back to your cousin’s voice as you threw your luggage, a little carelessly to the side, and turned towards him.

He looked at you weirdly as he stood at your door, and raised an eyebrow in question at your tone.

“Yeah ‘her’, her as in Sarah, Sarah Cameron.” You still looked at him skeptically and asked,

“Well this Sarah…she’s real right?” Your voice carried mockery and you tried not to laugh. Even more so at the offended look on his face.

“Yes! She’s real, I- I can’t believe you’d think I’m making someone up-”

“My bad dude, your rep isn’t exactly again, the socializing kind let alone the romantic kind-”

“Sarah is just a friend!”

Raising your hands in defense, you gave up, “Jeez alright, alright!”

He didn’t believe your words, he knew you and knew you were still doubting him.

“And I know your ass still doesn’t believe me but tonight you can meet her, there’s this bonfire party thing by the beach she told me that’s like a basic norm here, she invited me.”

“Great, have fun then.”

“And you as well.”

Your attention had gone back to your suitcase as you laid it down and opened it to find clothes that would help you rot away for the rest of the day because you were already drained, but upon hearing Josh’s last words, your head snapped towards him again.

“Me? Oh, oh no no no, I can’t- I don’t have the energy to function let alone socialize like a proper human being for today.”

It was serious for you, with the whole fiasco of finding out your entire trip was a sabotage to the way the smell of the sea didn’t seem to comfort you but make you want to throw up every few moments with the thoughts you were having, it was draining.

“Listen, we’re staying here for practically a month, if we familiarize ourselves, at least we can make the best of it from people who live here!”

Deadpanning him, you went through the options in your head. In the end even though it was beginning to feel like this trip was more fun for your cousin than you, you reluctantly agreed.

“I didn’t even pack suitable clothing for this type of place, see this is why you should have just told me beforehand!” Resorting to arranging your clothes, you retorted in annoyance when you thought of how all you had were clothes meant for cold weather and barely anything loose meant for such places.

“I’ll ask Sarah to lend you some after we meet her?”

“And are you sure this ‘friend’ of yours will agree?”

“She will, she’s pretty sweet you know, give her a chance.”

Eyeing the look he had on his face when he talked about his ‘friend’, you realized there was definitely more to it than he said, but you wouldn’t intrude more than needed.

Finally, you found some suitable-ish attire for the night, it was still a bit on the warmer side but you figured you’d just avoid going in the general area of the bonfire so as to not end up overheating.

“Fine, we’ll see.”

[ time skip to the night ]

It was not like you had any expectations but certainly it wasn’t this.

This bonfire party was more lively than you thought, everyone chatting around, drinking concerning levels of alcohol and overall having probably the greatest time that would become a core memory for their future selves.

You on the other hand?

The moment you saw where it was situated, you just stayed just at the back, not even wanting to go near the fire nor the sea.

However, at night, you will admit the sea looked different. The moonlight reflecting on parts of it made it seem like a black sky full of twinkling stars. It felt less…less scary to think of it like that. But you know it was an endless void that could quite literally suck you up, never to be found again.

“Come on,there she is!” Josh waved over someone and your attention turned to her.

Your jaw slightly dropped but you kept it cool even though you definitely had a look of disbelief.

Her blonde hair flowed freely from the slight breeze that passed by, and her eyes seemed to spark from the reflection of the fire. Her face itself seemed lit up and you could tell, it was just how she probably was. A bright person. She was simply put in one word,beautiful.

“Since when the fuck did you have such pretty friends and why do I not know about it-”

“Shut up.”

You were whispering to Josh as you continued to look at her, her smile also seeming to put you in a trance. She finally stood in front of you, you noticed she was shorter than you both.

“Hey! You made it!” You already knew her name, Sarah said enthusiastically as her eyes darted between you both.

“We just came a while ago, and oh also-, Sarah this is my cousin Y/N, the one I told you about and Y/N, this is Sarah.”

You did not know what to say so you just muttered out, “Nice to meet you.” and awkwardly smiled with a small wave of your hand.

A wave?? Who the fuck waves???

Internally, you hated how your social side basically had decided to ditch you. Normally, you would be able to make conversation easily but it seemed that it malfunctioned when you were surrounded by pretty people.

Josh snorted at your behavior and raised an eyebrow at you while Sarah’s smile seemed to have gotten impossibly wider. You swore your heart skipped a beat.

“Nice to meet you too! Joshua’s told me a lot about you!”

“Good things I’m assuming.” You finally spoke normally, your voice finding its way back to your mouth.

She laughed at that, and you really wondered if you could be almost smitten by someone in the first few minutes of meeting them but you felt a small smile tug up your lips.

“My friends are just around here and also feel free to have anything! In fact, some of my friends are helping out with the drinks and stuff, I’ll take you there.”

Before you could even give an answer she turned around and began to walk towards the main area. Joshua began to follow the same but you stayed glued to your spot, your gaze shifting to the bigger background. It wasn’t like you could avoid it forever anyway.

You nodded at him to continue as you slowly began to follow.

Turns out, pretty people came along with even more pretty people. They were like a package it seemed. Because the rest of Sarah’s friends were on that scale.

There was John B with his messy hair, sun-tanned skin and freckles that was the definition of the typical island boy. Then there was Kiara, who was just as pretty with her warm gaze and smile, her curls seeming to have a direction of their own as they moved around her face from the breeze. Then Pope, whose eyes seemed to scrutinize you and a jawline you could probably cut your finger on and the fact that he was smart too? Cherry on top.

JJ Maybank. He was something alright. His demeanor in itself was laid back but he was just as mesmerizing. His blue eyes seemed bluer than the sky in the day and just as bright as the ocean at the same time. He made you even more nervous than you thought you could get. And he was just as charming, slipping in compliments that made your face even warmer than the alcohol was making you feel.

It seemed this island was where all unrealistically attractive people stayed.

But all the socializing that you’d done was making you even more tired, plus the unhealthy amount of ‘punch’ you’d downed along with beer did not help. Your senses appeared to have heightened and everything was overwhelming, your tolerance for being close to the one thing you despised thinning.

“I-I’m just gonna go there for sometime, I-i need to breathe a bit.” You pointed to Josh as you poked his side to a place you could that was further from the sea but had rocks you could sit on. It was a good distance.

“You alright?” Another voice came from your side and you’d forgotten how JJ was sitting to your right. You nodded at him as you stood up.

“‘M good. Just- just need some air.” His blue eyes shone with concern. Even if he’d only met you a while ago, it was like you’d taken his attention from then. He couldn’t quite figure out why but hey maybe he’d find out eventually.

He decided not to follow you, so as to not overstep any boundaries considering you’d just met. The rest of the group were talking around, while Joshua also nodded at you in understanding when you glanced at him.

Stepping away, you stretched your body a bit, not realizing you’d been sitting around for so long in the same place and just talking. It was indeed true that time passed by when you were lost in fun.

As you walked away, you noticed a figure sitting there already, wondering how you didn’t see them before but probably due to the darkness and the distance, they weren’t visible. You paused in your steps, contemplating if it was a good idea to go there when it is clearly pre-occupied.

In the end, you just shrugged and continued your way, figuring there was enough space for another.

The sound of sand crunching beneath feet snapped Rafe out of his daze as it shifted from the scene in front of him to where the sound came from.

You froze when his eyes landed on you.

From the way the moonlight shone, he wasn’t very visible but it was enough to give you a glimpse of the person in front of you. And if you thought you couldn’t be more surprised at how attractive everyone around here seemed to be, well you were proven wrong.

He had a surreal beauty, with piercing eyes that seemed to captivate you. His hair fell effortlessly and just like the others, the breeze seemed to tousle it around and framed his face in a way that was both perfectly tousled and impossibly neat with strands framing his forehead. His features were sculpted with an almost ethereal precision, being highlighted by the moonlight : high cheekbones, a strong, straight nose, and a jawline that looked like it was carved from marble. He was the kind of pretty that didn’t quite seem real, as if he’d stepped out of a painting.

Yet what interested you most was the emotions that shone in his eyes. He appeared to be more annoyed than surprised along with another one you couldn’t quite understand and you really wished you didn’t assume it was right to come there.

“Uh…can I like, sit here, if you don’t mind…?” Asking it felt sort of stupid, wondering if you were really going to go ahead and annoy this pretty guy even more. And even though his face didn’t twist in anyway, his eyes told everything as if they couldn’t hide his true emotions.

He contemplated. For one, he came to that place to distance himself from others, making sure to choose a spot no one would easily find him at because it was as though everyone just wanted his attention, his presence everywhere and it got too much.

Then again, another part of him was curious. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you anywhere. And Rafe Cameron, for all of him, didn��t like not knowing.

Nodding, he turned his head back to the scene in front of him as he folded his arms above his propped knees. You seemed skeptical, but again, just followed your instinct and thought what harm could possibly be done anyway. You just hoped he didn’t turn out to be some serial killer. Otherwise it was probably okay.

Sitting with a good distance from him, you looked in front of you. It was a nice scene, the night ocean really did seem more…better. In the day, it was disgustingly blue and all the more made you truly think about how deep it was. Then your eyes wandered a bit to the boy beside you, his body language intriguing you, more specifically his gaze that made him seem blanked out.

“You look like you’re more miserable than I am, right now.” Sometimes, the filter you had on your mouth momentarily disappeared even more so when you’ve had a little more to consume than you can handle.

Rafe’s attention shifted to you fully, even though he was paying attention to you from the corner of his eye. He frowned a bit at your words, brows in creasing as well. You thought about the hell someone could do that and still manage to look attractive.

Scoffing as he registered your words, he muttered under his breath, “Of course, another annoyance.”

“Hey! I wasn’t trying to be mean or anything, ‘just-just trying to make small talk or something.”

“Well I don’t want small talk, I didn’t come here for that.”

His tone and words shut you right up. You blinked at him in disbelief, but realizing what exactly did you expect from a stranger, plus your words were very…something. His attention on you made you even more nervous, feeling warm even more than the alcohol and clothes made you feel.

“...my bad. I didn’t mean to say that.” You apologized and looked away, deciding if he didn’t want to be bothered, you would not even look at his way. You turned around, away from him creating further a distance and now faced completely away.

It was silly to feel hurt but then again, your usual emotions were completely botched by the liquor in your bloodstream. You would punch yourself in the morning when you realize the level of idiocy you had the previous night.

It was idiotic of him to feel a tinge of guilt as he heard your words. For fuck’s sake he didn’t even know you, he wasn’t the sort to feel sorry for people he knew let alone a damn stranger.

Sighing out, he spoke a little loudly over the sound of waves to make sure you’d hear, “I-well yeah I do feel miserable, you’re right about that.”

His voice was clear, considering you weren’t too far. You thought over if you should even reply to him after his…rudeness but hey, what’s another possible bad decision added to the already questionable ones?

Looking at him, you scoffed, “I think that’s obvious.”

The way you said it, almost made him feel less miserable than he was, his lip twitching as he turned his eyes from you.

“Sooo…fight with your girlfriend?” You wanted to throw yourself in the ocean…you just met the guy and you’re already asking personal questions as if you were friends. This is why you need to talk with people more and improve your people-talking skills. You failed to notice the guy next to you looking at you in amusement as he finally let himself smile for a brief second.

Wincing, you choked out, “Yeah no. Uhm you-you don’t have to answer, I don’t know why I asked that, sorry I tend to not know what to say and when to say and just yeah I’ll uh- I’ll shut up now.”

When you suddenly heard the sound of a chuckle, your eyes widened when your gaze met the sight of where it came from, Rafe just shook his head and spoke with amusement, “I can tell you aren’t much of talker.”

You couldn’t even look offended when he said that because you knew it was right so you just shrugged and agreed, “I think now this is more obvious.”

When you heard him laugh a little at that, you couldn’t stop your own smile and the way your cheeks seemed to warm up. You were unsure if it was from what was in your system or was it him. You hoped it was the former because for everyone’s sake, you did not want to even go near what would imply otherwise.

“I’m Y/N.” Randomly saying it was awkward but it made you realize you didn't even know his name. So throwing out yours like this was the only way you hoped would get him to say his.

“Rafe, Rafe…Cameron.” You turned your head in knowing towards him, the name familiar to you.

“Wait Cameron as in Sarah Cameron right? Is she related to you? You couldn’t quite make out his expression but it was as if a thought hit him and it instantly fell down. Of course, you’d somehow know his sister.

“Yeah, she’s my sister…unfortunately.” The last word was more of a mumble and you couldn’t hear it but upon knowing she was his sister, you raised your eyebrows in wonder.

They definitely did look the part of being highly attractive.

“Well it was nice to meet you Rafe, but I think I should call it a night before I eventually embarrass myself even more by passing out here.”

For Rafe, it had been a while since he’d heard someone feel nice to meet him, even though he knew you were a little out of it, he couldn’t help but let the smile on his face fully show.

Maybe he could forget why he came there in the first place for the brief moment, even if he’d have to face it soon enough.

“Are you sure you can handle yourself?”

“Pfft, you don’t know me Rafe, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself-”

With those famous last words, you stumbled as you stood up, nearly falling over because you forgot you have to balance your weight on both legs.

Following a concerned and amused look from him that you chose to ignore, also ignoring the fact that he now stood up and was closer, making you realise just how much taller he actually was compared to you, you cleared your throat as you finally stood straight.

“See, I’m good.” Your smile was wobbly and your eyes even more glossy, which only made you appear more sincere. It should not have affected him the way it did as his gaze met your own.

And when he was closer than before, you could see the colour of them, bluer than you ever could imagine. Maybe even more than the very ocean you despised, yet somehow you could not manage to find that same distaste with his eyes. They were dreamy.

Or it was just the beer, definitely the beer. You convinced yourself.

“Night. Rafe. Don’t be…miserable alone out here. You should head home soon.”

You miss the way he shook his head at you as you turned around and began walking back to the group.

It wasn’t often that there was someone intriguing to catch his attention right from the beginning, so to say the least, Rafe Cameron was more than intrigued.

And you for the hate of all things marine, could not get his deeper than the ocean blue eyes out of your mind.

Perhaps, a second meeting would set you right.

a/n : well this is finally out!! i want to start of by saying i have been putting this aside for way too long and i still do feel like this could have been better but again it's an intro, so hopefully it makes sense. and yes reader's hate for the ocean is sorta...self indulgent i suppose. i mean i'm more terrified than disgusted but anyways, i hope you aren't sick of all the ocean/beach/marine etc references ahaha and do let me know if you wanna be tagged for other parts? i'll be uploading them soon as i'm motivated to write for this atm :)

well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

feedback is always appreciated 💌 ! links : main navi ! | obx masterlist | info !

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ninibeingdelulu · 1 year ago

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Beach date ✧

Plot: A date at the beach with your grumpy boyfriend after one of his big games.

.part two.

Even though he loathes anything involving sand, surf and sweat, you somehow still managed to wheedle Sae into this "relaxation outing" with your pleading pouts and promises of indulging his every grumpy demand.

That signature scowl etched deeper into those striking features the second his restless soles hit the gritty shoreline.

"This is already the last damn time," Sae grumbled under his breath, squinting against the bright sunrays glaring off the turquoise waves.

You simply grinned, tugging him further down towards the water's edge knowing full well it was an empty growl.

While Sae stubbornly insisted on laying out that ratty old beach towel, you immediately stripped down to your swimsuit and raced into the refreshing shallows with a joyful whoop.

Splashing around like an excitable puppy until those cold droplets sprayed his exposed skin, earning you a murderous glare that only widened your cheeky grin in response.

"Come on , Sae! Just dip those toes in for me?"

That dry monotone somehow conveyed simmering irritation despite the lack of inflection. "I'll deteriorate into salt and misery, thanks."

Laughter tinkled from your parted lips while giving an exaggerated pout specifically to nettle him further.

Sure enough, it wasn't long before Sae dragged himself into the gentle surf with a weary sigh - arms hanging sullenly at his sides even as you circled him in teasing loop-de-loops.

Every few passes, you'd ghost those pruning fingertips along the taut cords of his neck and abdomen just to delight in Sae's visible shiver.

The creeping blush prickling high across his cheekbones when stealing not-so-subtle glances at your glistening, bare curves.

"Eyes off the merchandise, baby." you crooned with no bite, relishing the scathing scowl you received in return despite his appreciative leer lingering a bit too long.

Eventually coaxing him to lounge chest-deep in that sublime bath while tucking your delicate frame against his front.

Pillowing your head into the cradle of Sae's sturdy shoulder as those strong limbs subconsciously moved to cradle your lower back and thighs underwater.

His mouth remained pressed into that perpetual hypercritical line, though the tiniest sparkles returned to those jaded chips the longer he sat absorbing your serene surroundings and warmth.

Well aware this was precisely the type of simple, intimate moment his thundering spirit craved - no matter how stubbornly Sae refused to admit it.

At some point, you noticed his free palm blindly combing through the foamy shoreline in search of something. Eyes half-lidded while simply absorbing the rise and fall of your entwined figures caught in that gentle rhythm.

Until finally, Sae's fingertips resurfaced curling around some sand-caked treasure he silently brushed off before holding it up for inspection.

A petite pink conch shell with subtle striations and a mesmerizing iridescent interior that immediately reminded you of Sae's captivating irises.

Gazing upwards, you noticed the barest hint of a softened look clouding those very same eyes as the shell turned slowly in his calloused grip - brow smoothed into something almost tender before flicking that intense stare sideways to meet yours.

"...it reminded me of that mouthy little smile you're always wearing like an idiot."

Sae's sardonic tone attempted hiding the tiniest curve peeking out at the corners of his mouth while depositing the conch treasure into your waiting palms - maybe allowing the ghost of delight to play across his stare too before tucking you snug into the shelter of his throat again.

No further sentiments necessary beyond you silently tracing those intricate swirls with your thumb, mouthing 'I love you too, grouch' against the salt-tinged skin warming your cheek until he absorbed that affirmation with a low grumble vibrating clear to your bones.

Sae might swear he loathed these tender, peaceful interludes...but you recognized that lie reflected in the contentment etching his guard-less features and iron grip refusing to let go.

Staying firmly anchored to his tranquil island for as long as these stolen pockets of paradise allowed.

#fluff #blue lock headcanons #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk headcanons #bllk u20 #bllk x reader #bllk x you #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #sae x y/n #sae fluff #sae itoshi x reader #sae x you #sae itoshi #sae headcanons #sae x reader #itoshi sae

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adrift-in-thyme · 11 months ago

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Sooo remember that blupee Wild post from yesterday? I wrote something for it

Forgive the quality I wrote it in less than an hour

—————————

Legend stops short, Wild’s name still hovering on his lips, waiting to be propelled into the indifferent grouping of trees. There are eyes glowing from within the blanket of ferns at his feet. Glowing golden irises rimmed in amber, staring from a heart shaped face of palest blue.

Two antenna twitch. A small nose wriggles.

Legend bends to one knee, holds out a hand.

“Hey there. You wouldn’t happen to know where that crazy cook went, would you?”

Again the nose moves, though this time it wrinkles slightly as though the being has smelt a stench.

“Alright, fine.” Legend sighs. “Do you know where Wild went?”

That earns him some small amount of favor. The creature runs a paw over its face, fluffing up the fur there. Then, with one small hop, it emerges from its hiding place. It settles down on its haunches right in front of the veteran and sneezes.

Legend gazes at it and it gazes at him. It looks for all the world like a rabbit, with its loping gate and compact form. Yet, the appendages atop its head are like vines stretching upward in their ascent towards light. Its eyes are endless pools of molten treasure. They speak of wisdom, of mystery. They are a map Legend has yet to obtain.

Its body is delicate. The magic that waltzes gently around it threatens to spirit it away. But there is a strength about it that calls to Legend’s soul. It is painted in the eruptions of royal blue burned into the side of its face, etched in craggy, sporadic splotches upon its chest and abdomen. It is housed in those eyes of an ethereal stranger, a beloved brother and friend.

Again, the veteran holds out his hand in invitation. His voice is even softer this time.

“I won’t hurt you, champion.”

I know, Wild’s eyes say. Because you’re like me.

Another two hops and he has deposited himself in Legend’s lap. The veteran’s breath catches at this display of easy trust. Long and arduous is the road they walk. Many have been the days when he and Wild have ended up together, two conflicting minds forced to meld into something complementary. But never had he allowed himself to imagine it would all lead to this.

How’d you know?

A soft head presses against his chest. Legend ducks his face into the fur and for a moment, breathes in the scent of bubbling springs and murmuring branches, whispering wind and moist river rocks, moss and magic and autumn leaves.

How’d you know it was me?

He chuckles. Delicate fingers crowned with jewels find the spot behind Wild’s ears and rub there. The champion makes a trilling sound deep in his throat, a melody as pleasant as a bird singing its jovial song amongst the trees.

“It’s as you said. I’m like you.”

There is something about rabbits, he decides, a thread that weaves between their hearts and minds, connecting them in ways far beyond what words can explain. So that they may find one another, helpless creatures though they may be.

He checks over Wild one more time, searching for an explanation to the champion’s sudden disappearance from camp. But there are none to be seen. No wounds. No disturbances in the pattern of quick breaths. No skips in the race his tiny heart runs.

Legend lies back on the firm, packed earth, and Wild immediately readjusts along with him. He curls around himself, head meeting bushy tail in the form of a snail’s circular shell. Legend’s fingers continue their trail along the curving form, silk turning skin soft.

Above them, the trees bow to one another, limbs meeting midway to filter the pale rays of the sun. A leaf flutters down toward them. Its lazy journey ends atop Wild’s body. He doesn’t seem to mind. A tiny sigh lifts his chest. He readjusts, blinks open one eye that probes Legend’s soul.

Hey…thanks, vet.

The veteran grins. “Never thought I’d hear you say that to me.”

There is no bite in his tone. The sarcasm usually biting is gentle, teasing.

The wounds were never outward to begin with. He knows that now. He should have seen it the moment Wild’s eyes grew wide as a memory took over, the moment afterward when his chest had heaved in subtle attempts at breath, and those in the days following when he had walked with slow steps, head bowed, smile a ghost ready to fade and flee.

He doesn’t know how the hero came to take this form. It doesn’t matter however.

Legend runs his hand over the tiny head and he understands.

#trin writes #linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe fic #lu wild #lu legend #just two bunny boys #fluff #blupee wild #is this in character?#prolly not #but I wanted them to be soft #so here we are

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ficthots · 1 year ago

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Stanley

A/N: Well, it's happened. I am out of hockey fic retirement to bring ya'll this wonderfully delicious Matty smut. I mean, he's now a Stanley Cup champion...it's only right! As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ content only. DNI if under 18

3:23 AM.

The clock on the bedside table displayed what a whirlwind of a day it had been. A life changing day, really. The battle was over and the victors were celebrating. Your husband was celebrating. Now his legacy was permanently etched in NHL history. The biggest feat of his life.

Matthew Tkachuk was a Stanley Cup champion.

You were amazed that you had made it back to the house at all that night. Given that some of the team were still out and about celebrating their win. Matt had wandered into the ensuite just minutes before, giving you plenty of time to prepare.

Prepare what exactly? Your celebratory activity for him.

Wearing only a Panthers jersey, and only the jersey, you laid across the king mattress, waiting for your spouse to come and find you.

The feelings you had been experiencing all evening were practically indescribable. Truly, is there anything better than watching your favorite person in the world fulfill all of his lifelong dreams right before your very eyes?

Standing to the side as he embraced his brother, sister, mom, and dad, your eyes were rimmed with unshed happy tears. When his gaze finally set on you, you watched the pure unfiltered joy emanating from him. He had you wrapped up in his arms and placed the most knee weakening, heart pounding, clit throbbing kiss on you that you had ever experienced.

He was gone in the blink of an eye, pulled away to celebrate this moment with his teammates. You watched on, cheering the entire time, feeling as though the wind had been knocked out of you.

Now, he was finally all yours once more. With the light turning off behind him, he halted in his tipsy steps to see you. His jaw flexed, eyes growing instantly darker. “So, what does a girl have to do around here to sleep with a Stanley Cup champ?”

He slowly stalked towards the bed, shirt already discarded, only wearing his tight boxer briefs which did little to hide the raging hard on he was sporting. His movements were excruciating, simply burning to feel his touch on you, anywhere.

Hovering over you, arms braced on either side of your body, the loose jersey sitting high on your thighs, his eyes raked over your figure. He hummed, a deep low rumble from deep within his chest. Your breathing was already growing ragged, short, anticipation building as his brows furrowed.

Fingers grabbing the fabric on you, lifting it ever so slightly from your body, he let it fall back without exposing you. “What do you want, baby? Hmm?” Your lips darted out, moistening your lips quickly.

“You.”

His deep blue eyes locked onto yours, lowering his head to seal himself to you. It was sweet, gentle, the exact opposite of what you were expecting. Parting your lips, your tongue slowly moved from your mouth to his, sweeping seductively over his own. The taste of beer and liquor still heavily covered him.

A whimper escaped your throat as your slow makeout session slowly built in pressure. His roaming hands left your waist before tangling themselves in your hair. Sitting up to reach him further, your hands landed on his chiseled torso, rock hard beneath the warm embrace of you.

Speaking through kisses, his voice was ragged and desperate. “Take it off for me, baby, please. I need to see you, mama.” His fingers gripped the hem, helping you deposit the discarded jersey to a heap on the floor.

Laying flat on the bed below, his eyes bounced around, not sure where they needed to land. It took every ounce of strength he had to stand up and watch you. “Spread your legs,” you didn’t hesitate. Knees parting, your dripping core was on display for him.

Knowing what to do next, your fingers sat on your tongue for a few seconds, moving lower. You jumped in surprise at the electric shock that jolted through you when the pads of your fingers reached your clit.

An unfiltered moan slipped from you, watching as Matty shook his head. “Be quiet. We have a house full of family that could hear every single little noise you make. Does that turn you on? You fucking slut,” his own hand dipped into his briefs, slowly starting to stroke himself.

You bit your tongue, rubbing slow circles on your nub, slipping further down to plunge a finger into your soaking cunt. A gasp escaped, but you swallowed it down. Matthew had never seen such an angelic site before.

There you were, on display for him, playing with yourself. Your hair splayed around you in a near perfect halo. His wife. His real prize. Although, he had to admit, bringing that Stanley Cup home was a damn close second.

“Matty, honey, please.” He loved hearing your needy voice beg. Begging for him to fuck you senseless. He was holding off as much as he could. He had finally removed that last layer of his clothing, squeezing his dick to dribble out even more precum to assist with his jerking.

His teeth sank into his lip, finally pouncing on you. It was messy and disgusting, the exchange of saliva between you two. Dripping from your chin, clawing at his back to attempt to bring him as physically close as possible.

Yet, the tip of his cock rubbed against you, refusing to enter where you needed him most. Panting together, his fingers tweaked your perked nipples, mouth enclosing around you, nearly taking your entire breast. Your head flew back, eyes squeezed shut, his hand clamped over your mouth to keep your noises at bay.

Lips landed on your tits, sternum, the soft flesh of your stomach, before his mouth closed around your nub. “Baby, I want,” you were struggling to get your words out between the lapping at your slit and the harsh sucking of your clit. His meaty fingers sank into you, two at a time, and began pumping.

He kissed the inside of your thigh, your knee, speaking in a teasing way. “What’s that, mama? What do you want?” His shit eating smirk lit you up in flames, locking eyes as he ravished your cunt. “Use your words,” he nearly sang to you.

“I wanna suck you off,” he continued for another minute or so, entirely ignoring your request. Finally, he removed himself from you, inching towards you, his swollen cock aching for attention.

You didn’t wait, enveloping him into your warm and welcoming mouth. His eyes instantly fluttered shut, hand grabbing a fist full of hair as he began face fucking you. “Take it, baby. Take it all for me,” you greedily accepted. You had him fully in you, the tip of your nose brushing against his well maintained hair.

It went on like this for what felt like seconds only before he pulled back, gasping for air. “No, I can’t cum in your mouth. Need your pussy.” In the brief moment when you caught your breath and let your eyes slip shut, he had moved and was sinking deep into you.

“God fucking dammit,” he hissed, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to last too long tonight. “Fuck me, Matty. Show me how a champion would pound this pussy.” It was like lighting a fire from within, he began fucking you senselessly.

You had never cum so much in your life. It felt like the entire time was spent enveloped in the most wonderful orgasm you had ever experienced. Knowing the dirty words leaving his mouth was no aid to you. Being completely wrapped up in him was always the best thing in the world, Matty filling all of your senses.

There was nowhere else you would rather be. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Exclaiming as he emptied himself into you. He was shaky, arms no longer able to hold himself up, he collapsed onto you. Your hands traced lazy circles on his back, fingers dancing along his scalp. You peppered kisses all over him, wherever you could reach.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” You whispered to him in the darkness, he snuggled closer to you, breathing you in. Grounding him back to reality, knowing that as of tonight his life was no longer the same.

Matthew Tkacuck was a Stanley Cup champion. But he knew that he held his prize every night when he slept. He was only able to murmur out a I love you so fucking much before the snores echoed into the room.

Tomorrow held all sorts of promise and you couldn’t wait.

#ficthots #matthew tkachuk #matt tkachuk #florida panthers #nhl #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #stanley cup playoffs #stanley cup

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thevalkyriesshadow · 2 months ago

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Okay, so when I read this out loud, it went over the 7 min requirement for the erotica fanfic event LOL but only by 2 mins so I am working on whittling it down but...

Who wants some gwynriel alien smex?!

The cool night air blew in through Gwyn’s open window, its chilly touch a tantalizing caress across her skin.

Sleep was a little difficult tonight. The idea of needing to explore Azriel’s sexual anatomy for research made her…

Shy? No.

Nervous? Sure a little bit…

Wet? Yes.

She felt the drip of it between her folds every time she thought about what Azriel might be hiding under his clothed pants. If his tail played a part. If touching his wings would make him cum immediately.

Flopping back on the bed, Gwyn turned her head, glancing at the paperwork on her bedside table. The questions in that packet were seared into her mind:

How do they procreate?

Live births or eggs?

Do they have other extremities involved in their sexual interactions?

Please describe the genitalia. In detail.

The list went on. All these things that she would need to ask Azriel.

Gods… images of her finger up his asshole while she asked him how his species procreated made her –

Well…horny as fuck.

A soft knock brought her out of her lewd musings. She sat up quickly.

Who was knocking at her door at this hour?

She should’ve known, as she opened the door, that Azriel would be standing on the other side. His hair tousled about. Worry etched in his brow. As if he too had been tossing and turning in his bed

“Gw-yn.” His pronunciation of her name had gotten so much better after he’d been using the translation device over the past few weeks. Though Gwyn would attribute it to the vocal cord strengthening they’d been doing. Having him sing to warm them up was one of her best ideas yet.

“Azriel – hey.”

Okay, it wasn’t outright strange to find Azriel here at her door so late in the night. They’d spend many nights telling each other stories. He would sprawl on her bed with his wings fanned out, his tail swinging slowly back and forth, and his head in her lap as she read him stories.

Something pulled in her gut, tugging lower and lower. Pooling deep in her core. A gut feeling that Azriel was here for one reason.

“May I – come in?”

Gwyn nodded, stepping back to let him through. “Everything okay?” She asked.

Azriel stopped in the middle of her room before turning to face her. His shadows billowed about. The reflection of dark matter that followed him everywhere he went slid along the floor. Curled around Gwyn’s bare feet.

She blushed then, realizing she was in a sheer nightgown.

Its hem barely skimming her upper thigh.

Her peaked nipples were absolutely noticeable through the sheer fabric.

Azriel’s eyes did wander. Just a little. Until he pulled them back to her gaze. He swallowed and said, “I can not explain copulation.”

“Oh –”

“It needs to be experienced.”

Gwyn blinked, “Ex - perienced?”

He nodded.

“Okay…so how do you propose –”

“You are scientist, Gw-yn. You know.” He closed the distance between them. His tail lazily swirling behind him. His wings flapped with excitement as he took a hold of her face. A gesture he’d done from the moment they met.

“You want me to experience it?” She asked, breathlessly.

“Yes.” His forehead rested on hers. Sharing a wave of his soothing vibrations. “I want to experience – with you.”

“Show me,” she said, the words tumbling from her lips. Before she could say another word, Azriel was moving her. Lifting her with scarred hands curled under her thighs, his fingers dangerously close to her throbbing center. She let out a ‘oof’ as Azriel deposited her on the bed.

He wasted no time. His hands traveled up her torso, sliding along the silky nightdress. “Beautiful,” he whispered, his purr rolling the last syllable in that alien way she could never achieve. His large form was over her a heartbeat later. Caging her in with thick, solid thighs and sinewy muscled arms.

She knew Azriel would take care of her, be gentle and loving and fuck her hard if that’s what she begged for.

She also knew he’d stop if she asked.

“If I say stop?”

“I stop.”

“If I say harder?”

His hand slid up her thigh as he said with a purr, “I make it harder.” Azriel ripped open his pants without warning. Causing Gwyn to gasp loudly and giggle nervously as she laid eyes on his cock for the first time.

His long, thich shaft jutted out, dark grey like the rest of him. Except for the upturned head which was a shade darker, flushed with the blood that filled his skin.

Gods! Where was all that supposed to go?!

Azriel tossed the shredded fabric of his pants to the side and plunged between her legs, wrenching them open with strong, wide hands.

Gwyn moaned and Azriel stilled at the sound. Never having heard her make such a lustful noise before. “Again,” he ordered. His hands continued to move while he stared right into her eyes. The moment his thumb ran along her glistening seam, she was gone, moaning like a feral animal. “Don’t stop. Gw-yn. Moan for me.”

And Gwyn moaned. She whined and giggled as the tip of Azriel’s godsdamned tail slid along her center and – oh gods it was already coated in a lubricant.

“Self…lubricating?” She asked, panting. The tip of his tail flicked against her clit and holy gods above and below! His tail played with her entrance, mixing their slick. Spreading it around and around…

She nearly came from him just prepping her.

Then his tail ventured further. Towards her tight asshole which suddenly felt like it needed to be filled.

“Have you ever – ?”

“Yes –” she panted, “Many times…” Azriel smiled at that and then his tail pushed against her puckered entrance…

Gwyn’s head fell back against the pillow as the tip of his tail probed and pushed. Working her open.

Again when she thought she would come, Azriel stopped and leaned over her. The head of his cock pressing into her folds. Gwyn’s legs fell further open, her body aching and bowing for him. He rubbed the tip up and down, working his hand along his shaft. When he touched her skin again, she felt the slickness.

“Your penis is self-lubricating too?”

He chuckled, “It is.”

“Fuck me –”

And he did. Gods does he fuck her. His too large cock slid into her tight, warm cunt with ease. Pushing past her pulsating walls. His tail continued to work her asshole until he could enter her with ease. His now free hand plays with her breasts. Squeezing and pulling her nipples. Massaging them in his greedy touch.

It was an overload of sensation. Her asshole tickled and teased. Her pussy filled to that point of blissful pain as he rocks slowly into her. Canting his hips until he’s sitting deep inside her.

Just as she wishes he’d touch her clit, something hard rests against her entire cunt. The pressure of it surrounding her clit and too stretched walls.

Gwyn looked down and –

“Fuck!” She cried. The hard hood that had formed around the base of Azriel’s cock began to vibrate. Sending her straight into her first orgasm. The waves hit her suddenly and with force. Rocking her from the inside out.

“Yes…louder, Gw-yn.”

His hips moved faster, slamming into her. His vibrating hood massaged her deeply. His tail finally breached her puckered hole and he filled her completely.

Wholly and fully.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck – oh gods Azriel!” She came again. Shuttering in his hold as he rode her through it. Harder and faster. Going deeper with every plunge.

Just as she was pushed to her breaking point, Azriel stilled, holding all his extremities inside her he asked her something she never thought she'd be asked, “Can I implant my egg inside you?”

“You have eggs?”

“Yes. Males carry them and deposit a singular one into the females and -”

“Will it…hatch?” she asked, cutting him off. The need to release another orgasm was building and this conversation was taking way too long…

“If I ejaculate my seed while it is in your cervix and they take hold, yes.”

A strange, warm feeling filled her. The need to be filled not only with his cum, but with his egg too had her writhing beneath him.

“Fuck it,” she blurted. “Do it. For – science. Now Azriel…do it now!” Her walls clenched her body shaking as his cock hit her so deep she could feel it as the tip opened against her cervix and –

“Holy gods…oh gods oh gods ohhhhhh”

She felt the egg as it traveled through his ovipositing dick. Squeezing past her vaginal opening then pressing with an almighty force deep inside her.

It was pain and pleasure all in one and gods she was addicted.

She bellowed as she came, scratching at Azriel’s back, clenching herself around any part of him she could reach - and she saw stars and flashes of light and tingling sensation flowing through her all at once.

She hadn't realized she'd been screaming his name until she was coming down from her high.

Azriel stayed sheathed inside her, his cum still filling her. Coating the egg.

Settling against her, he rubbed her temple with his scarred thumbs and whispered, “Does that help to fill out your packet?”

Gwyn nodded. “Mhmmm,” was all she could manage as she tried to remember how to speak.

“Did I break you?” True concern flashed across his face.

“No, well…maybe in a good way,” she mumbled.

Azriel smiled. His hazel eyes lighting up, “Good. I'd be sad if I did.”

Gwyn giggled, then moaned as the movement stirred another wave of heat inside her.

“So…wanna go again?”

Azriel answered her with a deep, longing kiss. And they went again…and again…and again…

Sooo that was my first time writing alien smut 👽 let me know how I did! 🤭 also I know the foursome won the poll, but when I read it out loud, it doesn't hit as good as reading it in my head/with the whole chapter. But I have time to decide so we shall see!

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #acotar #pro gwynriel #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn x azriel #azriel #azriel x gwyn #gwynriel fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #gwynriel smut #acotar smut #fanfic #fanfiction #au fanfiction #au writing #writing wip #writing #gwynriel au

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deliasbabe · 8 months ago

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I'll Travel Far Beyond the Path of Reason (Take Me Back to Eden)- Cordelia Goode x Reader- Part 2

Part 1

Sorry I forgot about this fic, but I didn't want to make you wait a whole year for part 2, so I split it into 4 parts.

Word Count: 4.2k+

Warnings: Language, referrenced drugging, references to violence, PTSD

When you woke up the next morning, you were in her bed, her hair ticking your nose and your face pressed against her neck, safely tucked up against her body. You felt the tears begin to well up again, squeezing your eyes shut in order to quell them, but soon they were dripping on her neck, and she ran her hands through your hair on instinct, nose nuzzling the top of your head, lulling you back to sleep.

The next time your eyes opened, you were alone, but the sheets were still warm, hearing the shower as you drifted in and out of sleep, gradually coming back to the present. When the water stopped, you sat up, rubbing at your eyes as the door opened. Cordelia walked out, drying her hair with a towel as she smiled at you, “Well good morning.”

“Morning.” You grumbled, the supreme snickering at your half-awake state, “What?”

She smiled again, shaking her head as she walked over to the dresser, shuffling in a drawer for some clothes, “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing.” You mumbled, feeling the sandpaper in your throat and turning towards the nightstand in search of water. You spotted a full glass, reaching towards it, only to see your knuckles bandaged in white gauze. You stared at them for a moment, perplexed, before consciousness fully returned and you were reminded of the previous night’s events.

You looked at your girlfriend, only to see her staring back at you, her once smiling features now etched with concern, and you pulled back, leaving the water still perched on the nightstand as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. You crossed your legs, fiddling with your hands in your lap as you counted the threads in the sheets, and you heard your lover sigh, her steps light as she grabbed the forgotten glass and pushed it into your hands, “Drink it.”

She watched you in the mirror as she pulled on her clothes, lip trapped between her teeth as she tugged at the dry skin. The second the glass was empty she collected it, depositing it back on the table as you mumbled out an apology, eyes still trained on the white cloth beneath you.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” She replied, the bed dipping as she sat on the edge and reached for you. The second her fingertips brushed your skin you shifted away; the relief you felt the night prior now seeded with doubt. While your greatest attribute had always been your own self-awareness, it also made you keenly aware of the mechanics behind what pushed this reunification, or what forced it.

Choice had always been extremely important to you. You never wanted to be the person that backed someone into a corner with only one way out. Cordelia hadn’t spoken to you for weeks, couldn’t even stand to be in the same room as you for more than a few moments, yet there she was, looking at you so tenderly. But that wasn’t adoration in her eyes, it was fear, fear that you were so fragile that if she didn’t handle you with caution, you would break into a million pieces. She kissed you and held you last night merely to quell the storm, to stop you from the path of destruction you were surely on. Not because she wanted it, not because she wanted you.

You bit the inside of your cheek, willing to do anything to get out of the no doubt embarrassing conversation you were sure to have. You shook your head, mumbling something about needing to get up and get the day started, untangling your legs and trying to find your footing. Cordelia grabbed your ankle, anchoring you to the bed as she shook her head, her other hand searching for yours and running her thumb over the back to soothe you, “That can wait, we need to talk.”

You nodded, pulling your hand from her grasp and using it as leverage to cross your ankles beneath you, pushing you further up on the bed and just out of reach. There was a beat of silence, a shaky breath, and then she spoke, “I’m worried about you. You really scared me last night.”

Your eyes darted up to hers, “I wouldn’t have hurt you.”

“I know.” Cordelia soothed, “That’s not why I was scared. I was scared for you.”

You shook your head, gave an excuse, tried to downplay, “I just don’t like being confined.”

Cordelia stared back at you, her eyes looking up and down your form like she was doing some kind calculation, tallying up every movement. You looked away, seeing her blonde hair shake in your peripheral vision. “The girls told me you were doing fine.” She mumbled, her tone puzzled, “A few hiccups, but mostly fine.”

You looked back at her, dumbfounded, but she seemed to be looking right through you. You weren’t sure if they were lying to her or if they were just blind, but whatever you were, it certainly wasn’t fine. Her brow furrowed as she tried to comprehend it, tongue running between her lips before she bit down, seemingly deciding the first option was the most likely, shaking her head, “I should have known better.”

“I’ll- I’ll be fine, you don’t have to worry about me.” You stuttered, feeling defensive, “I’m sorry for scaring you, but really, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Cordelia tilted her head in bewilderment, looking you over as you chose to stare out the window. She didn’t get it, last night you were begging for her to talk to you, now you were doing everything you could to shut down any form of conversation. It wasn’t like you. You were never one to stay trapped inside your head. In fact, most times, she had to be the one to stop you from blurting out every single thought that crossed your mind. While at times it drove her crazy, it was also one of the things she loved most about you. When it came to the important things, there was no guess work, your heart was on your sleeve always.

She felt the guilt lodge in her throat, knowing this was largely her own doing. You had tried to talk to her, tried for weeks, and each time she shut you down. She wasn’t ready, so she pushed you away, and now your silence was a habit she didn’t know if she could break. A stray tear fell down her cheek and she was quick to wipe it away as you turned around, not wanting you to see it and shut down even further.

You fixated on a point, eyebrows creasing, and Cordelia followed your line of sight, spotting your numerous suitcases by the door. She snickered, “It was actually pretty easy to move all your stuff in here, since you already packed it for us.” You looked over at her questioningly, and she elaborated, “You’ll be staying in here, with me.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise, you had already had the discussion before your fight, had decided to move all your things into her room over break, since you were already there every night. It made sense at the time, but a lot had changed since then. You had wanted it to happen, but not like this.

“You don’t have to do that.” You argued, shaking your head, “I didn’t mean to put you in this position.”

“What position?” She asked, prompting you when you threw her a look. She stared at you, eyebrows raised and tongue pushing against her cheek, and that look you knew. It was the same look she always gave when the two of you were bickering and she already knew she was going to win, but she wanted to push you and extract every single argument first. She was playing with you, wanting you to show your hand before she showed hers, all the while knowing you were going to lose.

You let out an inaudible grunt, shaking your head as you explained, “I know the way I acted last night wasn’t ok. It wasn’t fair and I don’t want you to feel forced to…”

You stuttered, you couldn’t say it, but Cordelia was right there, prompting you once again, “Forced to do what?”

You shook your head, unable to face the fear, and stared down at your hands. If you said it and she agreed, you would be devastated, but if you said it and she denied it, then you wouldn’t believe her. If you said it out loud, you would be forcing her hand once again. It was too soon.

But there she was, tipping your chin up and forcing you to stare in her sparkling eyes. There was a mischievous glint in them, her lips curled into a teasing smile, “Forced to do what?”

The words caught in your throat and you moved to clear it, obviously flustered, and Cordelia’s gaze softened, but not before she glanced at your lips. She shifted closer, and you knew what was coming next. You tried to pull back, but the grip on your chin tightened, so you spit out, “We can go back to the way things were.”

You saw the hurt flash across her features as her fingers fell from your face, hands moving to tuck her bangs behind her ears as her eyes cast down. When she looked back at you, her face was painfully neutral, and you couldn’t help but flash back to those weeks you spent in this bed. “Is that what you want?” She asked, not meeting your eyes.

You shook your head, sputtering on your words for a moment before managing to squeak out, “I told you I wasn’t going to force you.”

Cordelia was quiet for a moment, trying to piece together what you were saying, “You think you’re forcing me… to care about you? To want to be with you?”

You sighed, “I cornered you-”

Cordelia cut in, “The girls cornered both of us, you were just as clueless as I was.”

You shook your head, “That’s not what I’m saying…”

“Then what are you saying?” Cordelia asked, obviously searching for some kind of clarity, but to be honest you didn’t really understand it yourself, at least not well enough to put into a comprehendible context.

“You didn’t talk to me for a month, you didn’t even want to be in the same room as me.” You argued, “You made yourself pretty clear.”

“That was a mistake,” Cordelia sighed, rubbing at her temples and shaking her head as she sniffled back tears, “But I never stopped caring about you.”

“Caring about me and wanting to be with me are two completely different things.” You pointed out, Cordelia sighing as she stood.

“Stay here.” She ordered, shooting you a stern look before she walked out of the room, returning a few moments later with a binder and handing it over to you.

“What is this?” You asked, glancing up at her as you flipped through the pages, not understanding what the pages of text meant.

“The knife we pulled from you had an engraving in it, a crest.” Cordelia explained, “It traced back to a group of witch hunters that has been around since before my mother was supreme, a group we thought had been eliminated, Delphi Trust.”

“Your ex’s family?” You asked, Cordelia nodding.

“I called in a favor with the FBI, got some information…” Cordelia said, swallowing thickly, “It wasn’t random, they didn’t just find you. It was a targeted hit. They went after you because you were close to me. They had been following us for months, and I handed you right to them.”

“You didn’t know…” You began, but your girlfriend silenced you, pointing to the binder.

You scanned over the pages again, names and photos and addresses. You flipped through the pages, Cordelia speaking as you did, “I thought the protection spell would be enough to protect you, and it did, but it wasn’t enough.”

You stopped, looked up, “You put a protection spell on me?”

Cordelia waved you off, motioning for you to keep reading, flipping the pages to find pages upon pages of arrest warrants, “I didn’t want to tell you until it was all done. I didn’t want you to worry…”

You flipped and flipped and flipped, there had to be at least 200 of them. With the sheer amount, it should have taken months to compile this much research. You processed for a moment, trying to put together what all of this meant, “You got them all?”

Cordelia shook her head, “I still don’t know. From what we could figure out, all of the smaller groups that have popped up were started by them.” Another head shake, “We got as many as we could find, but not all the arrests have been made yet.”

“You did all this… in a month… for me?” You asked, Cordelia nodding hesitantly, “When did you sleep?”

“I wanted you to feel safe.” Cordelia said, beginning to rant as she dodged the question, “When they told me you left, I was so worried, I just stood by the door for days and…”

You vaulted off the bed then, darting across the room and crushing your lips to the supreme’s. She squealed in surprise, eyes going wide before fluttering shut, one hand snaking behind your back, the other tangling in your hair and tugging you closer. The kiss was delicate and soft and so, so different than the desperate one you had shared the night previous. When you parted, Cordelia rested her forehead against yours, but instead of tears, she was smiling and laughing lightly, her breath fanning out over your face.

“I love you…” She breathed, stroking your face and staring at you with adoring eyes, “So much.”

“I love you, too.” You said, beginning to chuckle, “But you’re an idiot.”

You squealed when Cordelia pinched at your ribs, jumping back, but she nodded regardless, “I guess I deserve that.”

“You guess?” You scoffed, Cordelia biting her lip, her gaze drifting to the floor as the guilt was plastered clear on her features. You sighed, heading back towards the bed and climbing under the covers, “Come here.”

She quirked a brow, “I thought you wanted to get up?”

“Yea,” You said sarcastically, “That was when I was trying to avoid talking about my feelings. Now I demand cuddles.”

Cordelia laughed but complied, crawling up the bed and into your arms. You sat there for a moment, trying to savor the feeling, before you felt a question crawling out of the back of your throat, “Last night, what did you do to me?”

Cordelia went still for a moment before flipping onto her stomach, gazing at you as she ran her fingers through your hair, “I needed to see everything. I didn’t want you to lie to me.”

“I wouldn’t have lied to you.” You stated, “I would have told you everything.”

Cordelia gave you a soft smile, a knowing look in her eyes, “You would have told me what you knew to be true.”

You stared back, obviously confused, “What does that mean?”

Cordelia arched a brow, obviously testing you, “Tell me about your nightmares.”

You shook your head, “I’m not having nightmares.” Cordelia stared back at you with a victorious smirk, like you somehow just answered your own question, “I’m not, seriously.”

“You haven’t been sleeping.” Cordelia sighed.

“I’ve been sleeping like a rock.” You shot back.

“No, you haven’t.” Cordelia said, “You just think you have.”

“What does that even mean?” You exclaimed, looking for Cordelia to finally give you some sort of explanation, “I was sleeping all the time. I spent days just sleeping.”

Now it was Cordelia’s turn to look back at you in disbelief, “You really don’t remember any of it?”

You threw up your hands, “Obviously not.”

Cordelia shook her head, finally pulling away from you and sitting up on the bed, “What do you remember?”

“From which point?” You asked.

Cordelia didn’t know, she didn’t know what you knew, “Start from the beginning. When do you remember waking up?”

You shook your head, “I asked you how long I was out for and you said four days.”

Cordelia’s eyes went wide in recognition, before narrowing again, “That’s the first thing you remember?” You nodded, forehead creasing as you waited for her to explain, “That makes sense.”

“How does that make sense?” You asked.

“I was confused when you asked me…” Cordelia began, stopping and shaking her head before explaining, “That wasn’t the first time you woke up.”

You tilted your head, “So when was it?”

“The day after.” Cordelia said, “You woke up screaming about… hands? Or someone holding you down?” Recognition must have flashed across your features, the supreme nodding her head before she continued, “I tried to calm you down, but you just kept fighting me. We had to give you a sedative because you ripped your stitches open.”

You could tell from the look on her face that it pained her, and you regretted ever asking her to elaborate, but she continued, “It didn’t work well. Even when you were awake, you weren’t really there, but you also wouldn’t sleep for more than an hour at a time. When you woke up, you would just scream, and nothing seemed to help.”

You watched a tear drip down her cheek, your thumb quickly raising to brush it away. “Delia…” You tried, “You don’t have to…”

Cordelia gave you a sad smile, shaking her head, “We switched to a different sedative after that, and I guess that’s when you actually woke up.”

You thought that was the end of it, nodding as you tried to pull her back to you, but she was stiff. “Delia,” You tried, “It’s fine. I haven’t had a nightmare since then, so the new medication must have worked.”

Cordelia eyed you, obviously thinking you were joking, but you remained serious. “You don’t remember any of it, do you?” She asked, her eyes full of concern once again.

“Remember what?” You asked, laughing under your breath, “There’s nothing to remember. Every time you gave me those meds, I was knocked out cold.”

The look on Cordelia’s face was enough to pull you into a seated position, eyes searching hers as she looked right through you. Your brows furrowed as you watched her fish through her mind and replay every memory, adding context she hadn’t even bothered to give you yet. “You don’t remember any of it.” She whispered, “Oh my god.”

“Care to clue me in?” You asked, trying to stave off the uneasy feeling that had begun swirling in your gut.

Cordelia met your eyes again, schooling her features as she cleared her throat, “You weren’t sleeping, at least not for more than a few hours. I was up with you all night.”

You shook your head, but Cordelia continued, “We figured out if I gave you the medication right before dinner, you would sleep until the sun was down, and you wouldn’t go back to sleep until sunrise.”

You stared at your girlfriend, perplexed, “Why don’t I remember that?”

“It must have been the medication.” Cordelia said, shaking her head, “Some sort of twilight phase or memory loss?”

You sniffled, trying to keep the tears at bay. It felt stupid to cry over something like this, something that really didn’t amount to anything, but you couldn’t help feeling like your own body had betrayed you. “You were there?” You asked, “All night?”

Cordelia nodded, hand reaching up to brush away the tears that had started to fall against your own will, “Of course I was.” Cordelia watched your face crumple, eyes tracking back and forth as she tried to think of why, her own face dropping at the realization.

When you were screaming about how she wasn’t there, she had assumed you meant the attack. It made the most logical sense. After all, she left you stranded on the other side of town, it was only natural that you would blame her. But if what you said was true, if you had no recollection after you were given the sedative, then it would seem that she wasn’t there at all.

“I’m so sorry.” Cordelia choked out, “I thought…”

You wiped at your eyes, clearing your throat as you attempted to school your features, “It’s not your fault.”

Cordelia shook her head, swiping at her own face, “Is that why you fought me?”

You nodded, feigning a chuckle, “I thought you were drugging me, so we didn’t have to talk.”

“No,” Cordelia said firmly, her voice cracking, “Oh god, no.”

“Then why didn’t you talk to me?” You cried, “It was weeks, Cordelia.”

The way Cordelia looked at you made you feel like you had truly lost your mind, like you were stuck in some delusion that she couldn’t figure out how to break. She reached for your hands, but you pulled them away, feeling a pressure build up inside your chest, but as quickly as it had come, it was gone. It was difficult to face the idea that everything that had happened in the past few weeks had been your minds own fabrication, it’s futile attempt to fill in the gaps, but it was true. She wasn’t looking at you like that to hurt you, the delusion wasn’t fabricated, it was real.

Cordelia’s mouth moved against empty words, trying but failing to offer you any sort of explanation, and you shook your head, “I need to see it.”

“What?” Cordelia asked.

“I need to see it.” You repeated, “I need to do whatever you did to me.”

“I don’t think…” Cordelia began, but you cut her off.

“Obviously, there’s something I’m missing. Please.” You pleaded.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” Cordelia reassured, reaching for your hands, but you pulled away.

You shook your head, “I need to see it.”

You could see the hurt in her eyes, then the deliberation. As much as you tried to force the issue, truly she had all the power. You needed her for it to work, her mind, her abilities. She could easily tell you no, and it would be over, but you knew her too well. Telling you no had always been her weak spot; it was how you managed to worm your way into her heart in the first place. She always swore she would never develop feelings for one of her girls, had stuck to the rule hard and fast. When she realized she cared for you more than the others, she did her best to avoid any interaction, hoping the feeling would dissipate, but when she backed off you pushed forward, and eventually, she broke.

“I’ll have to make a spell.” Cordelia finally said, you nodding in return, “There’s no guarantee it will work, but I’ll try.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling yourself physically deflate, “Thank you.”

You could see the hesitance still clear on her features, her unsure eyes and the way she was chewing on her bottom lip, but she pushed it aside and offered you a small smile, opening her arms, “Now, come here.”

You crawled across the bed, practically throwing yourself into her lap, drawing a giggle out of her as her arms enveloped you. You buried your head in her chest as she pressed kisses to your hairline, her arms tightening around you and squeezing as she rocked back and forth slightly, whispering, “My beautiful girl.”

You looked up at her, only to see her eyes glassy. “Hey,” You whispered, bringing your hand to her cheek, “I’m right here. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Cordelia said, shaking her head and pressing another kiss to yours, “I just… I thought I wasn’t going to get to do this again.”

“Me too.” You whispered, nuzzling into her neck, mostly to hide the fact that you also were on the verge of tears. You knew what she was referring to, the doubt and uncertainty that had plagued you for the past month, but not once did you stop to consider that she was feeling it as well, and while you still weren’t entirely sure what transpired in the past month, you did know your girlfriend.

As much as she tried to put on a brave face in front of the girls, you knew how sensitive she truly was, how she took every little hiccup to heart. You were the one who was there when that tough resolve crumbled, and every inadequacy she felt she had, came to the surface. She felt she was at fault if one of the girls so much as skinned their knee, so you could only imagine what was running through her mind when you came back with a knife wound.

“I thought you hated me.” She admitted, gripping you tighter when she felt you trying to pull away, but you were only doing that so you could look at her properly.

“I could never hate you.” You said, cupping her face with both hands, “Not in a million years. The only thing I could even think about was making it home to you.”

Cordelia pressed her eyes closed, her entire face tensing as she was desperately trying not to cry, but a few tears slipped down her cheeks regardless, and you were quick to kiss them away, pressing a final kiss on the tip of her nose, causing her eyes to flutter back open. “I love you.” She breathed, pressing her forehead to yours, “So damn much.”

“I love you, too.”

#cordelia goode #cordelia foxx #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #sarah paulson

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