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strawberrychampagneglass · 3 months ago

Text

Roses - pt. 1

Paige x Azzi

CW: cursing, implications of domestic violence (ONLY AT THE END), angst, maybe some fluff?, pining

9.3k words DAMN

A/N: holy shit guys I did not think I could pull this off and to think that this is gonna be a series is wild to me. Jokes aside, this took me about 2.5 weeks so expect (somewhat) infrequent updates due to school work and all that. Ik y'all have been waiting so I'll drop the first chapter. Something to be mindful of: initially this thing was in GSV then I changed it to LA last minute and then I changed Nika to Cam and Gabby to Dearica because Gabby and Nika didn't make sense to me at all so yea enjoy AND PLEASE DO GIVE ME FEEDBACK!!! I appreciate it a lot I WILL ADD A MASTERLIST WHEN MY HEART COMPELS ME TO

October 15th, 2028

Los Angeles, California

“Azzi,” her urgent voice calls out to the dark. She nearly trips over the entrance mat as she enters her apartment in the early morning hours. She drunkenly yells for her again as she stumbles towards her bedroom.

The only response she gets is an echo of her voice.

She lands in her bed with a soft thud, her hand searching for the familiar warmth of another body. When she feels the cold bed sheet under her hand instead, the only thing she can hear is the hammering inside of her head while her heart throbs, threatening to pry itself out of its cage. Tears well in her eyes as she falls asleep.

When she wakes up and checks her phone, she has one notification: a text message from Curt Miller. While it makes her heart palpitate as she remembers the happy memories, alarms blare in her head, reminding her of the bad that outweighed the good.

Her excitement quickly turns to bitterness. Paige doesn’t want to play on the same team as Azzi. Not after the incident in her redshirt senior year. Not after their catastrophic argument at the 2025 WNBA draft. Not after she saw a new person with her Azzi. Not after she saw the diamond-studded ring on her fourth finger.

Most of all, not after she built a stronghold with the most formidable defenses around her heart.

July 29th, 2018

Minsk, Belarus

The Belarusian crowd roars during the FIBA U17 Women’s Basketball World Cup final, drowning out the melody created by a screeching flute and deep, dulcet drum. With a very comfortable 32 point lead against the French in the middle of the fourth quarter, Paige is subbed out. She accepts the high-fives from her teammates before taking a seat at the end of the bench. Cheers flood the bench while they watch the clock wind down intently, waiting to relish in the intoxicating adrenaline following the victory.

The blonde raps her foot against the floor anxiously; her jaw propped up by her clenched fists. From the point of view of her teammates, she is engaged in the game. However, inside of her mind, a storm brews. She thinks of her best friend, the brunette girl with the number 6 on her back who is sat two seats to her left. Paige indulges in the memory of her fingers lingering on Azzi’s for that extra second after a high-five, their intertwined hands during the national anthem, and even when their shoulders brushed together in the team huddles and neither of them moved.

Her mind continues to wander until the bench unexpectedly explodes with chants of “USA” as the clock winds down into the last minute of the game. Paige springs from her seat on the bench, hollering as the adrenaline pumps through every vein in her body. When the final buzzer sounds, she shakes hands with the opposing team before hurling herself into the sea of navy jerseys.

The rest goes by in a blur, her adrenaline depletes rapidly. The energetic girl is uncharacteristically quiet during their team dinner and even on the bus ride home where she opts to sit alone in the back, leaning her head against the cool window that soothed her aching head.

As the bus pulls up to the hotel, Paige and Azzi lock eyes from opposing ends of the bus. The fatigue she once felt is quickly replaced with delight when Azzi gives her a tired smile with softened eyes, making her heart beat erratically. It’s still early in the evening, but the team agrees to celebrate in Cameron Brink’s room, without the coaches’ knowledge. While the team shuffles off the bus in a single-file line, Paige pushes through the never-ending hoard of her teammates until her eyes rest on a familiar brunette. She puts her hand on the brunette’s cold shoulder, catching her attention as she leaned into the warmth of Paige’s hand. Azzi chooses to ignore the pink that rose to the older girl’s cheeks and smiles at her.

“Are you going to Cam’s?” Paige asks sheepishly, trying to hide her smile. Azzi chuckles before responding with a nod.

“She is my roommate, so I guess I’m obligated to go.” Paige grins from ear-to-ear as they chat until they reach their respective hotel rooms. She changes into sweatpants and opts for a Hopkins Basketball hoodie. Although it's the middle of summer, the temperatures in Minsk are frigid compared to the Minnesota heat.

Furtively leaving her hotel room, she spots her teammate, Zia Cooke, attempting to sneak several bottles of cheap vodka into Cam’s room, her shoulders are tense and eyes rove across the empty hallway. Paige giggles before walking over to the shorter girl to offer a hand. When her teammate’s eyes land on her friendly face, the muscles in her shoulders loosen.

“Paige, thank god,” she breathes, relieved. “I was so scared that Carla or Stephen would jump out of their rooms.” Paige laughs at the image of Coach Berube catching Zia while looking like a deer in headlights, juggling 5 bottles of vodka. Feeling bad for her teammate, she takes three bottles from her arms and opens the door to Cam’s room. The two girls are met with 10 pairs of curious eyes who cheer at the sight of the vodka bottles.

***

An hour later, the potent odor of vodka floods the room. Most of her teammates gossip about their crushes back home; others watch the late-night shows on the Belarusian TV channels, a few are even snoring obnoxiously on Azzi’s bed. Paige, who is completely sober, feels irritated from her spot on the floor as she watches the dramatic show that is being projected on the TV. She isn’t sure if it was the lack of alcohol, or if it was the sight of her best friend who presses her body against Hailey Van Lith while an arm that wasn’t hers is strung around the brunette’s waist and resting on her toned abdominal muscles.

When Azzi notices the blonde’s glare at Hailey, she walks off the bed and carefully treads towards the table of alcohol, pouring a full glass of vodka. Her eyes flick to Paige, who stares at the glass of vodka in her hand. Unamused and frustrated, Paige returns her attention to the show on the TV until she feels a warm hand tilt her chin back. Azzi looks at her, emotionless, as she stands behind her. They stare at each other wordlessly before the older head lands on a soft, toned leg. Her lower lip meets the cool rim of the glass that Azzi filled with vodka.

The brunette moves her face closer before she tips the glass upward while noticing a light streak of red across Paige’s cheeks. “Drink,” she whispers, and Paige complies. She feels the alcohol burn her esophagus as she swallows the oily and bitter liquid. Their faces linger in the close proximity as they breathe in synchronization. It takes every ounce of self control in Paige’s body to not close the distance between their lips.

“You look pretty,” Paige smiles, hoping for a laugh and a friendly slap across the shoulder from her friend. Instead, Azzi returns a frown with furrowed eyebrows, moving her head away.

“Paige, I can’t enjoy my evening when you’re glaring at everyone I’m sitting with,” Azzi huffs with an edge to her voice. “Go get drunk and leave me alone.” Paige scowls; she knows that Azzi isn’t exclusive to her, but she wants some exclusivity. At the end of the day, they’re just best friends, nothing more. Nevertheless, the thought of another girl’s body pressing her body flush against Azzi infuriates her. From her spot on the floor, she feels the warmth of her friend’s body disappear as she walks back to her spot next to Hailey.

She grabs her wallet and phone and leaves the room.

***

When she returns to her hotel room hours later, she slams the newly-bought bottle of vodka on her nightstand, shaking the entire room. It isn’t a big bottle; it’s around the size of a Gatorade bottle. The cashier at the convenience store didn’t bother checking the 16-year-old’s ID, assuming she was of legal drinking age. She popped the cap off the bottle and brought it to her mouth. Her lips begin to form a suction around the opening as she tilts her head back, swallowing the searing liquid. She throws the rest of the liquid down her throat when the thought of Azzi’s words cross her mind. She tightens her grip on the bottle and her tongue scours for the last few drops of the liquid, hungry for the feeling of the alcohol. She sits on her bed in silence, staring at her feet until she feels the effects of the alcohol course through her veins. Her vision begins to blur and the entire room begins to swirl. Through her blurred vision, she still manages to identify the lamp that sits perfectly still on the nightstand. Her free hand reaches for the dangling chain that serves as a lever for the light. Giving it a slight tug, the light flickers briefly before illuminating the entire room. To her shock, a familiar brunette girl with bronze skin sits across from her.

“Are you done being an alcoholic so we can talk?”

“Azzi, what the fuck?” the blonde stammers, frustrated. She sets the bottle down and stares at her friend in disbelief. When Paige gets no response from her, she stands up and starts stumbling towards the door, nearly tripping over herself.

“Paige, wait,” Azzi catches the blonde, observing the older girl’s cloudy eyes. Even while drunk, her blue eyes remind her of her lake house; her second home. The thought makes her heart flutter despite the agonized look painted across her best friend’s entire face. “I’m sorry, we can talk about this if you want. I know I hurt you, and I take full accountability for it.”

Paige knows she is in damage control mode, but she has a soft spot for the girl; a part that is willing to forgive her and move on.

She chooses to ignore it and let her irritation control her words. “You didn’t want to talk before, so you don’t get to talk now,” she hisses. Azzi flinches, unaccustomed to her hostility. “You told me to leave you alone, and now you’re in my room, begging for forgiveness. I don’t understand you.” Her arms fly erratically before reaching the collar of her hoodie, tugging it down to ease her tense muscles.“For god’s sake, we’re best friends. Sure, best friends tell each other everything, but my best friend doesn’t get to tell me to leave her alone and show up in my hotel room 2 fucking hours later.”

“I’m not yours, Paige. You don’t have any right to control my actions.” The retort makes Paige wince. “If I want to be with Hailey, you have to respect that. I have a right to be frustrated because I don’t belong to you.”

“Okay, how about a heads up next time instead of you getting cozy with someone else in front of your best fucking friend. I thought we agreed that we would ‘see each other later’”

“She was drunk and she came up to me, and we did see each other. There was nothing binding about that agreement. I can be friends with other people and you can too, unless I’m your only friend.” Azzi’s anger rises as well as she picks at her cuticles.

“You’re an asshole.” Paige breathes, releasing the hoodie. “You tried to get me drunk while trying to seduce me.” The other girl’s mouth opens before getting cut off. “Then, you went back over and cuddled up to her. I don’t have a problem with you seeing people, but even a short-term notice would’ve been nice. It’s fucking awkward when I’m sitting there–surrounded by drunk people who are all passed out on the damn floor–and my best friend is cuddling up to a person we barely even know.”

“You know what? You sound really fucking insecure right now. Maybe you should go book a flight back to fucking Minnesota and we’ll never have to see each other again. You’ll never get jealous over me when I go on dates with other people.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, she wishes that she can take them back and shove them down her throat. Paige stares at her, emotionless. After a few minutes, Azzi’s voice cuts through the thick air. “Say something, please. You’re freaking me out.”

“I wish I was yours, Azzi,” Paige whispers softly, so softly that Azzi thinks she mishears. She scowls, but her heart flutters from the confession.

“I need you to tell me that when you’re completely sober. I can’t trust you when you’re drunk.” she sighs, looking at the blonde who has tears brimming in her eyes. However, she can’t shake the warm, fuzzy feeling in her heart from her words. She can’t describe the feelings, and the thought of treading into unexplored emotional territory makes her queasy.

“I wish I was yours,” Paige urges, with genuine sincerity in her tone despite the alcohol.

“Paige–”

Before she could finish her sentence, Paige grabs her wrist and pulls the younger girl into her. The blonde drags her along a premeditated route, stumbling several times. Biting the nails on her free hand, Azzi’s mind swarms with endless possibilities of danger; they could be kidnapped by random Belarusians, the coaches could catch them while getting a midnight snack, or they could get lost and never see their families again. But Paige was Paige, guiding her to their destination. The warmth radiating from the other girl’s body hypnotized her. It felt safe. Too safe.

Paige leads her through the maze of the city until they reach the edge of a river. Even under the late-night sky, airplanes weave between silhouettes of clouds; their green and red lights blink, bringing life to the sky. The city is calm and serene at this hour, with the occasional passer-byer that ignores the two girls. The solitude is disrupted by cars gliding across the bustling road across the river bank with horns that blare occasionally. Street lights hug the river bank; streaks of yellow and orange rippled back and forth on the water. The breeze is soft, like a baby’s blanket. It carries the occasional, faint scent of cigarette smoke which is unexpectedly comforting.

The two sit in mutual silence, away from each other. They both avoided the topic of the prior conversation. Paige hums softly, her body warm from the alcohol. “I didn’t know they had fireworks this late at night.” Her speech is slurred, yet Azzi still laughs in response. The sound of her laugh is like a piece of music written by Beethoven to her; a sound that can be played over and over without getting old.

“They’re not fireworks, they’re street lights reflecting off the water.” The blonde squints, squatting on the large cement block that she had been sitting on. As she cranes her head closer, nearly falling off the block, Azzi scrambles to catch the blonde as she reflexively yanks her waist backwards. They laugh before Paige puts her hand on hers.

“You’re acting really sober,” Paige declares while studying Azzi’s facial features.

“I am sober, so I think it’s a good thing that I’m acting sober.” The younger girl chuckles, punching her friend’s arm lightly with her free hand. Flustered, Paige averts her gaze to the shimmering undulations on the surface of the water. Unsure of whether it was the alcohol that was twisting her mind, or if it was the dim, golden lighting that lights up the left side of Azzi’s face, all she can think about is that her best friend is beautiful. It drives Paige insane; her bronze skin gleams and her umber eyes light up and become a light, almost golden shade of brown.

“Sometimes I wish that you could be in Minnesota with me all the time.”

“Well, you could come to Virginia and stay with me…” Azzi proposes before smiling at Paige, but she doesn't meet her eyes. The blonde is scrunching her face with her attention on Azzi’s arms, and not her face. “What’s wrong? Paige?”

“You’re cold,” Paige whispers, shifting her weight so she and Azzi sit facing each other. Trailing her hand up the other girl’s arm, her fingertips dance along the mountain ranges of goosebumps on her tender skin. Paige’s warm touch makes her feel something. Their eyes clash, uncertainty swarming in both pairs. “I meant what I said earlier,” Paige glances at her lips, breaking the eye contact. “I wish I was yours.” Her hand reaches for Azzi’s cheek, cupping it lightly, and the brunette melts into her touch.

Panic rises as a lump in her throat. They’re young–too young. Azzi’s feelings are new and confusing. She doesn’t know what love feels like and it scares her. As a kid, she was told that “love” was when two people cared for each other a lot. It was obvious that they care for each other a lot. They talk for hours, each word flowing effortlessly while they howl in laughter about something that the other said. Every touch they share is electric: sparks fly erratically through every vein of their bodies. After every argument, Paige is the first to apologize because she knows that Azzi overthinks.

She moves her face closer and drapes her hands on the blonde’s nape. Paige takes the bait.

Her slightly-parted lips meet Azzi’s warm and soft lips. She closes her eyes, pulling the younger girl’s face in before pulling away after several seconds. The kiss is short, but sweet. Azzi looks at her hands, not wanting to meet the blue eyes knowing that she made a mistake, and the kiss shouldn’t have happened. The once well-established boundaries of their friendship are permanently breached. Yet her cheeks flush and she misses the warmth provided by the close proximity of Paige’s body.

“Raise your arms,” Paige mutters shyly as Azzi is enveloped in the warmth of a thick hoodie. Paige’s hoodie. The scent of Paige’s rosy perfume encases her and a contented sigh escapes her lips.

“Are you cold?” Azzi observed her best friend’s exposed arms.

“Nah, I’m alright. You can keep that by the way,” she motions to the hoodie that hugged Azzi’s torso. “It can be a souvenir from Belarus from me. Something that can remind you of tonight forever.” The brunette smiles and wraps her arms around the blonde; she is the clay that Paige can shape into anything she wants. They just fit together.

The girls dance through the city and totter unsteadily to the hotel, where they collapse in the comfort of Paige’s bed, satisfied laughs slipping out of their mouths after sneaking past the rooms of their teammates.

“Would you like me to walk you back to your room, Madame Fudd?” Paige teases before a pillow slams into her face. “Hey! Azzi!” She shrieks, scrambling to grab another pillow before falling flat on her face. Azzi laughs hysterically for a few moments until the room stills into an unsettling quiet.

“You’re so chivalrous, Bueckers.” Azzi looks around her room, fidgeting with her fingers. “But, uh, since there’s a few drunk bodies on my bed,” The blonde cocks her head at her and smirks; the simple motion makes her heart lurch. “And also because you also don’t have a roommate and I thought that you might be a little lonely tonight, especially because you’ll be hungover in the morning, I was wondering if I could stay here tonight.” Paige breaks out into an ear-to-ear grin and tackles her in a bear hug, shoving them to the bed where their bodies melded into each other.

Amongst the clamor, there is an uneasy feeling in Paige’s gut that she can’t shake, but she chooses to ignore the feeling as she lets her body intertwine with the younger girl’s.

October 19th, 2028

New York City, New York

Azzi is selfish.

Anything she gets her hands on, she wants to keep for herself. She is a hoarder who wants to keep everything that she loves forever.

Unfortunately, when you fall in love with everything, you can’t have it all.

She paces back and forth at the gate, biting her nails and avoiding the gaze of her fiancé. Tugging the collar of her hoodie from her high school days over her head, she allows a satisfied sigh to escape her mouth as she is cloaked with a comforting rose scent. It was nostalgic; it held so many memories that felt so important and so irrelevant at the same time. But the scent made her feel hopeful of something she couldn’t place.

“Is everything okay, babe?” startled, she drops the hoodie to smile weakly at her fiancé.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little tired. The thought of everything scares me a little.” Azzi chuckles. Instead of a friendly smile from her fiancé, she notices his scowl at the text on her hoodie. Her heart drops into her stomach, knowing that this would prompt an argument from him over a certain college teammate.

“I’m so happy you finally chose to leave the cesspool of New York,” her fiancé sneers, “and, I’m so excited to soak up the LA sun.” Azzi doesn’t react to his comments, avoiding an argument at all costs. He came to all her games and cheered her on, but he always hated New York City. It was either too cold or too hot, too rainy or too sunny and never the perfect balance between the two.

As long as he’s happy, I am too.

Los Angeles, California

Paige is protective.

She loves her possessions and hates it when people take them. She wants to shield everything she loves from hurt and pain.

Orange and pink rays of sunlight stream through the tall glass panes by Paige’s bedside, bathing her bedroom in a warm glow. She stirs awake, her sore body begging for 15 extra minutes of sleep. Her throat feels raw and her eyelids are weighted. Instead of fighting against the weight, Paige lets her eyes close while thinking about the consequences of not showing up to Azzi’s welcome party. When she first caught wind of the news, she called Cameron Brink to come to her apartment. She complained to her for hours while blackout drunk before inevitably passing out. When she woke up the next morning to dozens of angry texts from Cam, she apologized profusely, showing up to her apartment with the shoes that her friend had been eyeing for months and bags of Sour Patch Kids.

It was safe to say that Paige wasn’t allowed anywhere near alcohol tonight if she chose to go. At least, not under Cam’s watch.

The Sparks had an extremely successful campaign last year and capped off the season with a championship title along with Paige’s first league MVP and finals MVP awards. The feeling is still surreal, and the thought of it pumps more adrenaline through her body. Even though the season was extremely successful, the threat of injuries plagued the guards last year. Also, the Sparks were in desperate need of a guard with the ability to knock down shots and step into the role of a strong playmaker.

Was she expecting Azzi to join the Sparks? Eventually, yes. She is desperate for a championship run.

Did she want to celebrate a piece of her past she let go before her birthday? No.

Is she happy about it? Absolutely not.

Her phone began to vibrate violently under her pillow, prying her from her thoughts. She rolls over to scrutinize the contact name with a groan. Her blood runs cold and she taps the green phone icon on the 4th ring.

“Paige! Thank god I got in contact with you.” Katie Fudd exhales. Paige feels the weight of her panic that reciprocates her own through the phone. “I know we haven’t really talked in about, um, three years,” she pauses, unsure of how to continue when she hears Paige’s sharp inhale, “but, have you heard from Azzi recently? She’s supposed to be arriving in LA today, at least that’s what the media says.”

“No, I…I haven’t heard anything, Katie,” she rasps, her throat ablaze. Her lips run dry. The media?

Paige makes small talk with Katie, catching up on major events in their life while both of them try to avoid the topic of Azzi. It was brought up once and Paige could barely perceive the muffled, yet pained sobs on the other end of the phone.

“I know you have your Unrivaled league coming up in the new year, but it would be great if you could come visit us during Thanksgiving or even Christmas,” Katie proposes as they near the end of their conversation.

“I’ll take a look at my schedule and try to pull some strings, but no promises. I have plans to visit my dad and Drew over the Thanksgiving weekend in Maryland, so we’ll see what happens.” Paige replies, acknowledging the piece of her that wants to let the past go. The part where she was too close to Azzi and her family. She knows that visiting them means treading into foreign territory.

“We miss you, Paige. Jon and Jose miss their ‘son’ too,” Katie laughs, relieving Paige of a heavy, bone-crushing weight on her heart. “Happy early birthday too, we could never forget. We love you, you’re still family to us.”

Paige smiles, a genuine ear-to-ear grin. “Love you too, Kaite. Tell the brothers and Tim I say hi as well.” She says before hanging up.

“You’re still family to us.” The words rang in her head, warming her frozen heart. It wasn’t enough to thaw it, but it was enough to invoke thoughts of hope. She was torn from her reverie by a knock at her door. Humming to herself as she sauntered out of her bedroom, she opened the door to her apartment.

“Woah, I never thought I’d see you smiling like you’re on Disney Channel,” the blonde at the door laughs, surprised. Paige scowls at her words which prompts Cam to laugh harder. “I did bring breakfast though, knowing your current mental state. You look like shit, Paige.” She sets two paper bags on Paige’s kitchen island. They sit across each other on the spinning bar stools Cam loves.

The two chat buoyantly; Cam tells her stories about her boyfriend, Ben, and his new obsession with cars or whatever. Paige doesn’t really pay attention to her rambling because of a painful ache in her heart. Even though it had been a year since Cam moved to Los Angeles, the two still learn new details about Over the past year, Cam used the fact that the shorter woman struggled to maintain a relationship for more than a few weeks as the butt of all her jokes. Despite being annoyed at first, Paige was quite amused with herself.

“Azzi’s mom called me earlier,” Paige abruptly says, interrupting Cam in her spiel about her brother’s recent breakup.

“...is that why you were smiling earlier? Paige, not even 5 days ago you made me-”

“From what I’ve…figured out, they haven’t been able to get in contact with Azzi. Katie seemed distraught when she accidentally brought her up.”

“Are you implying that she got kidnapped?” Cam laughs uncomfortably, trying to avoid the weight of the situation.

“It’s a possibility.” Paige mutters. Cam stops laughing and an uneasy silence drapes the room like a heavy curtain.

“I guess we’ll find out later, but don’t stress about it. You could be overthinking the entire situation. Don’t make that face, I know that you don’t want to go, but out of respect for your future teammate, you need to.” Cam sighs while rubbing circles on her temples. “I’m going to pick her and her supposed fiancé up at the airport. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Thanks for breakfast, Cam. Drive safe,” she calls out as the door to her apartment shuts. And suddenly, her mind is thrown back 5 years to the keychain that Azzi bought them in their early 20s as a gift. Drive safe, I need you here with me. I love you.

***

“Azzi Fudd! This is Kendra Andrews with ESPN. What are your thoughts on the Sparks franchise?”

“What prompted the move from New York to LA?”

“How do you plan to integrate yourself into the team?”

“What excites you the most about the LA Sparks franchise?”

Dozens of reporters and journalists surround her. They fight amongst each other to thrust microphones into her face. Sweat beads down the back of Azzi’s neck as she tries to answer as many questions as she can while being mindful of her fiancé’s limited patience. He had gone on his phone, ignoring Azzi as she drowns in a sea of cheap cologne and felt-tipped microphones. She quickly interrupts the reporters after 10 minutes and bid a polite farewell. Her heart stings with a bit of remorse when some of the reporters in the crowd express their frustration through whisper-shouts to their colleagues because they got a different answer than what they would’ve hoped. As she makes her way to her fiancé, her head hanging low, she mentally prepares herself for the incoming argument.

“You’re a piece of shit,” her fiancé hisses, “you took ten fucking minutes to talk to some fans.”

“Please, not here. Not while the reporters are still around,” Azzi whispers, frantically scouting for reporters.

“Save your bullshit for later. Call an Uber and get me out of here.” While leading her fiancé towards the airport exit, Azzi picks at her cuticles. “Oh, and next time,” her fiancé continues, “don’t be a pussy-sucking people pleaser and just give them an autograph. I don’t have the time for this, there are better things I should be doing that does not include waiting for you.” Tears begin to well but she blinks them back, trying to put up a facade for the public as she smiles half-heartedly for selfies. The lump in her throat threatens to roll out of her mouth. The thought of a night in the hotel sends a cold bead of sweat down her back. She doesn’t want to be left alone with her fiancé. She doesn’t trust him.

A firm hand grabs Azzi’s wrist, pulling her back into the present. She rips her hand away reflexively before processing the familiar face that belonged to her temporary roommate in Belarus. For the first time since she left New York, Azzi breaks out in a full-faced smile and throws herself into Cam’s open arms.

Her mind wanders to the other future WNBA teammate, who she had not seen since the 2025 WNBA draft. The thought of her quickened her heart, but the feeling sours when she becomes aware of her fiancé by her side.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, oh my god,” Cam laughs, punching Azzi’s arm lightly, a gesture from her USA basketball days when Coach Berube made an off-handed comment. She flinches in response, which Cam chooses to ignore. “Oh, and you must be Azzi’s fiancé. I’ve heard so much about you, and it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Cam,” the blonde chirps, turning her attention to Azzi’s fiancé, offering a friendly smile and a hand. “I don’t think I ever got your name.” Her fiancé remains silent, but his jaw muscles tighten and his cold, green eyes look at her with animosity and spite. Not wanting to raise suspicion, Cam plasters a smile and leads them to her car.

Cam makes a mental note to tell Paige about their interaction with an emphasis on the flinch.

“...This is the Uber you ordered?” her fiancé snarls when the other woman is out of earshot.

“You need to calm down. She’s my teammate, and this is a thoughtful gesture,” Azzi retorts before covering her mouth. Her breathing becomes shallow and her face pales as her fiancé inches his face closer to her ear until his hot, rancid breath drowns out her awareness of everything around her. The hustling environment of the airport disappears and her world is engulfed in silence until four words snap her out of her trance.

“Drop this shit, now.”

***

The ride to the hotel where the two would be temporarily staying was brisk, although Azzi wished it would have lasted longer. The brunettes reminisced on their college days while laughing hysterically.

“Have you talked to Geno after he finally retired?” Cam asks playfully, making eye contact with Azzi through the rear-view mirror. Instead of Azzi’s warm brown eyes, she meets her fiancé’s swampy green eyes. The blonde feels a chill run down her spine, unable to detect any emotion on the fiancé’s face.

“Nope, not at all.” Cam raises her eyebrows, clearly amused.

“Wow, it’s been two years since he retired. He even went to the draft to support you and, um, nevermind.” The blonde shakes her head, cursing to herself. Azzi laughs awkwardly, trying to lift the guilt off her friend’s shoulders, but her fiancé is unamused. “About time though, I thought that he nearly got a heart attack during the March Madness championship in 2025.” The two erupt in laughter, tears falling from their eyes. Her fiancé glares at Cam through the mirror, prompting her to awkwardly change the topic to the Sparks and their team culture. Azzi ignores the glare and continues her conversation with her friend.

Her fiancé isn’t completely out of the loop despite his apathy towards Azzi’s WNBA career. He knows who Paige Bueckers is, the national championship they won in 2025, but he only vaguely knows about the relationship that she and Azzi shared during their collegiate campaigns. If their relationship was an iceberg, her fiancé only sees the tip of the iceberg, the visible part that the media shared, the two in a million SLAM cover, their rise to stardom in USA U16 basketball, and most importantly, their adversities through injury together. What she doesn’t know is the true depth and complexity of their relationship, veiled beneath a thick layer of dark, murky water that neither she nor Paige are ready to uncover. As their lives began to diverge, so did the currents in the water; they pushed and pushed on their relationship until it came crumbling down, splitting the iceberg into two parts that are now just Azzi and just Paige.

Thanking Cam as they slip out of the car, Azzi checks into the hotel room where she and her fiancé sit on opposite sides of the king-sized bed. Her head hangs and she looks at her hands before her fiancé breaks the silence first.

“Hey,” he sighs, walking over to Azzi. When she lifts her head to meet her fiancé’s eyes, branches of tears stream from her eyes and down her cheeks, splitting into multitudes of different directions.

“Am I not good enough for you? One moment you hate me, and the next you’re suddenly in love with me again.” Azzi sobs, pulling her hair in frustration. “I’m trying my hardest, and it hurts when you don’t reciprocate the feelings.” She wipes her eyes while her fiancé stares at her in disbelief, masking his anger. He paces to the door before walking back to Azzi, feigning an empathetic look.

“No, baby, you’re perfect.” Her fiancé mutters , pulling the brunette’s head to his chest as he kisses her forehead softly while wiping her tears. “I love you so much. I appreciate everything you do.” Azzi could feel that his words felt wrong and uncomfortable coming out of his mouth.

“Love you too”

***

Paige walks in circles around her room while Cam summarizes the airport pickup, sprawled out on the blonde’s bed. “You didn’t even get his name. Damn.” Paige’s voice is laced with worry.

“All you need to know is that her fiancé is fucking weird. He was like ‘I’m so sick of this bullshit’ the whole time without speaking a single word. I introduced myself to him like a normal fucking person and he stood there and stared me down, as if I was competition or something.” Cam breathes, putting her face in her hands. Paige feels the same, unable to piece together the puzzling situation. “This whole situation is crazy. I was talking about Geno’s retirement and she hasn’t talked to him in years. Isn’t that weird? I feel like he’s also the jealous type. She wore your Hopkins hoodie and her fiancé kept eyeing it the whole time.”

Paige’s heart skips a beat at her words. Her Hopkins hoodie. The one from the night in Belarus: even though it had been over 10 years, Paige remembers it clearly. It was the first time she was in love. “That’s weird. You picked them up from the airport, and he was glaring at you the entire time in the car. Then, you- like, jokingly punched her. How hard was this punch?”

“KK-punching-Ice-after-losing-a-bet-about-your-life hard.”

“Okay, so not that hard.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard her fiancé call her a stuck-up pussy eater while they argued about the reporters before I picked them up.” Paige raises an eyebrow at the statement before coughing awkwardly, mumbling under her breath.

“Just– be careful Paige. She isn’t yours anymore. I know you’re still not over her,” She winces at her friend’s words, “and it’s the harsh truth, but I seriously think that you need to find someone else to distract you.”

“We both know that finding someone else hasn’t worked for me either. I’m worried about her. She’s my best friend, my ride or die.”

“She betrayed you. You need to move on. Best friends don’t betray each other like… that.”

***

Flanked by her fiancé, Azzi walks through the large, wooden doors of the restaurant next to her hotel. It was a short walk, but she took in the salty smell of the city. The breeze was sharp and it nipped her exposed arms. She was shivering and rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

“You must be Ms. Fudd,” the waitress waiting for her arrival smiles at her, “your table is over here, please follow me.” The short walk through the labyrinth of tables set with velvety red cloths that had a golden trim on its edges was interrupted by a crimson-colored curtain. The chatter behind the curtains feels daunting, and she wants to turn around and run back to Arlington. The waitress pulls the curtain to the side to reveal a table full with people, her teammates, laughing and talking boisterously amongst themselves. The first person to stand up is Cam, who embraces her in a loose hug. Seconds later, nearly all of her new teammates have thrown themselves into her arms.

The last person to stand up is the blonde. Her wavy, blonde hair, lighter from the Californian sun, is tucked behind her ears and falls down her back like a loose shawl. Her skin glows gold against the yellow lighting of the dining room. She wears a freshly ironed button-up dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose her toned forearms. Only the right side of her shirt was tucked into her brown trousers that hang loosely from her hip, ghosting her ankles. A beige bomber jacket that matches her pants is slung around her shoulders and a watercolor-patterned scarf is draped around her neck. The gold studs and helix ring on her left ear reflect the light of the chandelier that hangs from chains above the dining table. When their eyes meet, Azzi searches her eyes for a sense of comfort in her familiar blue eyes that her dark mascara emphasizes. Instead, she finds nothing in her cold and emotionless eyes. Paige embraces her new teammate in a stiff and loose hug, her muscles tense when Azzi’s hands roam her back. Immediately, she is engulfed in her rosy perfume, the same scent that she finds solace and comfort in. Her stomach churns, yet there is a certain warmth that flickers in her heart. Everything about the blonde screamed Paige, and Paige is beautiful.

“Welcome to LA,” she says while pulling out of the hug. Refusing to look at her, she turns to the man looming in the corner while offering a hand. At the table, Cam sucks a sharp breath in, casting a warning glance at Paige which is ignored. Azzi stiffens and her heart hammers. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Paige, and you are?”

“I’m Charles,” he murmurs, accepting the handshake and offering a small, sly smile. Azzi’s eyes widen. Her fiancé is rarely friendly, especially not to Paige. They glare at each other for a brief moment before she takes a seat next to Cam.

Her fiancé and her sit side-by-side at the table, across from Paige and Cam. Charles slides his hand into Azzi’s under the table, squeezing it softly. The small gesture makes Azzi smile as she leans into her fiancé, enjoying his comforting presence. It isn’t much, but it’s enough to take her mind off of the blonde sitting directly across from her, laughing with her WNBA teammates. It annoys her.

Azzi is selfish.

***

The entire table has some sort of alcoholic beverage in their hands or in their stomachs. Paige sits awkwardly, sipping a Shirley Temple whose sugary and overly sweet grenadine has become bitter on her tongue. Nausea seeps into the edges of her head and begins to spread like wildfire and she finds herself rubbing circles on her forehead. She can’t stand the sound of Azzi’s bubbly laughter across the table. The sound that threatened to burn a hole through her heart.

“So, how did you guys meet?” Dijonai Carrington cocks an eyebrow at the couple while swirling her cocktail in her cup.

A brief panicked look flashes across Azzi’s face before Charles cuts in. “We met in college.” His answer is curt and dry, yet polite. Several of her teammates cooed at his response, gushing over the couple. The two women jump into a conversation about their college lovers.

That should’ve been me.

“What a fucking people pleaser.” Paige snickers to Cam while blinking back the unwelcome moisture that began to form under her eyes. She throws back the rest of her drink before dropping her head into her arms.

“Are you sure you don’t want any alcohol? Like, a thousand percent positive?” Dearica Hamby, the star forward of the Valkyries asks Paige while rubbing the taller woman’s back. Through the seemingly innocent image of the question, she notices genuine concern painted in the woman’s softened eyes.

“She’s alright without it,” Cam answers before she could open her mouth. “We made an agreement that she would have no alcohol tonight because I had to clean up after her last time.” The entire table howls in laughter, and Paige joins them with a half-hearted smile while heart fractures.

If her smile didn’t split into a frown at the corners of her mouth or her chin didn’t wrinkle, Azzi’s heart wouldn’t have stopped and she would’ve been laughing with her teammates.

“Yeah, I had to show up to her apartment with shoes and a shit load of candy because I felt so guilty.” She sneaks a glance at the brunette sitting across from her. Instead of laughing with the team, she was engaged in a conversation with her fiancé, prompting her to avert her gaze. It takes every piece of her dignity not to stare at the brunette. Her dark, curly hair is braided and hangs just above her shoulders; the same hairstyle that she jokingly called a bob back in their college days. She wears a baby blue knitted tank that reveals her muscular arms and white, flowy linen pants that hug her hips.

However, when Paige’s eyes pass by the soon-to-be married couple, searching for something, they follow the pattern of their intertwined arms and hands hidden under the table. Looking at Cam, she whispers, “I need to get out of here.” the taller woman waves a hand at her, signaling for her to go ahead. She files through her wallet and grabs a few hundred-dollar bills and hands them to Cam, which she graciously accepts. Dearica flashes her a sympathetic look before returning to her drinking game.

“I got a call from my mom and I gotta take it. I’ll be right back.” Announcing to the table, she grabs her phone and stands up, stepping over her drunk and overly rowdy teammates. When she finally slips behind the thick velvet curtain, she finally feels as if she can breathe. The curtain has become a barrier between her and a certain pair of brown eyes that burns holes through the back of her head. She knows that man. The blur of dark curls and olive and brown skin became too vivid. She needs to get out. It hurts her.

Paige is protective.

***

The neat blonde bun disappears behind the curtain with a soft, almost inaudible swoosh. She tries to talk with her teammates, laughing at their jokes, but everything feels forced. The image of Paige's stiff posture and the death grip she had on her phone haunts her. All of a sudden, her fiancé’s once soft hand feels heavy and scratchy against her skin.

“I need some air. I’ll be right back,” She announces as she gets up, dropping her fiancé’s hand. Cam and Dearica pause their argument over their stupid drinking game and stare at her with their mouths agape. There is undeniable panic swirling in both pairs of wide-open eyes, but Cam gives a hesitant nod.

“Is everything alright babe?” Charles’s voice is soft but urgent. “I can come with you.” Azzi looks at him with a warm smile before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

As she exits the restaurant, she is met with an intricate spectacle of orange, pink, and blue. The light of the day quickly disappears, but she discerns a hunched silhouette on the beach that glows under the golden light. Her attention shifts to the orange circle that barely peeks out through the edge of the horizon as it slowly sinks underneath the water, leaving a trail of orange and pink light rippling across the surface of the water. Waves crash loudly against the shore before they are drawn back to the ocean while laughter and joyful screams from children join the peaceful ambience.

“Are you just gonna stand there or do you wanna sit?” A tired voice rips her out of her thoughts as she tears her gaze from the astonishing scene in front of her. She glances at the woman sitting next to her who has her knees up to her chest and her head resting on her forearms. Azzi decides to sit a few feet away from her. For a split second, it feels like their fragmented friendship could be salvaged again.

She slips her sandals off and lets her feet absorb the texture of the flaky sand while shivering when a gust of wind hits her skin. Instead of ignoring the mechanical sound of teeth chattering, Paige shakes the jacket off her shoulders and hands it to her which Azzi graciously accepts. When she wraps it around her shoulders, she is engulfed in the aroma of roses again.

“I thought you had a call to take,” Azzi remarks, her voice soft. Veins snake down the woman’s arms and hands until they disappear behind her knuckles. Her pale skin had become golden and her biceps protrude from the rest of her arm. The neat braids in her hair are now ruffled and frizzy, and small wisps of hair dance with the breeze. On her wrist is a beaded bracelet that reads “RESILIENCE.” The bracelet from her camp before their explosive argument. The sight of it makes her heart flutter, but when she reaches her face, a cold wave of dread washes over her as she notices the smeared mascara and faint patches of salty skin on her cheeks.

“Yeah, I did.” Paige answers bluntly, her voice cracking slightly. An uncomfortable silence falls upon them; the air heavy from their unspoken words. Azzi’s heart throbs at her cold tone. “What brings you out here?” she asks after a few moments.

“I felt nauseous.” Paige scoffs at her response, shaking her head.

“Bullshit.”

“Paige, why are you so fucking blunt?” Azzi exasperates, throwing her hands up in the air in surrender. “You hugged me earlier and that whole time, you were stiff as a rock. It’s been 3 fucking years, it’s time to grow the fuck up.” When Paige says nothing in response, Azzi continues. “I’m trying to be the bigger person here and you’re being unfair. I told you that we can stay friends and then you fucking gho-”

“Your fiancé,” the blonde sneers, tearing Azzi out of her rant. Her voice is shaky and dangerously close to breaking. Through the golden light, she can see the tears brimming behind her smudged eyelashes. “He’s the one that you met at Ted’s, right?” Azzi stays silent, giving Paige the confirmation she needed. “You’re not being the bigger person, not at all. You’re only talking to me because you want something out of me. Azzi, you’re being selfish.” The last word hits Azzi like a cold bucket of water.

“You’re being unfair,” Azzi says shakily, refusing to meet the blonde’s eyes.

Paige lets out a strangled sputter before opening her mouth. “I’m being unfair? Me being mad over you getting cozy with another man after our natty suddenly means that I’m being unfair?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. You’re being unfair because you’re hurting him with your comments. Do you think I can’t hear the derogatory names you’ve called him tonight?” Azzi scrunches her face and turns to the blonde, whose attention is on the sand that snakes between her toes.

“Are you happy?” the older woman finally asks after a period of silence.

“I don’t know.”

“What?” Her blue eyes dart towards hers.

“P.” Paige freezes at the use of her nickname, “I miss you. My offer still stands. We can go back to our friendship.” The last words are quiet, almost as if they aren’t supposed to be spoken. Memories of what they were rush through both of their minds. The women have something unreadable in both of their eyes as they stare at each other.

“No, we.. we can’t.” Paige finally speaks, tearing her gaze away from her, letting out a shaky breath and gets up to leave, but before she can take a step forward, she feels a forceful hand clasp around her wrist that prompts a wave of panic to flood through her. “Azzi, let me go. You can’t do this. You’re getting married soon for god’s sake.”

“Our last night in Belarus, I know you remember it. You wear the same perfume, you even gave me your hoodie. Shit, Paige, that was the time I knew that I fell in love with you. Every little thing you did for me felt like you were giving me your entire world. You fell in love with me too. Every argument we had, we made up, and we can make up from this too. I’m asking you to believe in us again. I won’t leave you.” For a split second, Paige’s eyes soften and she lets her walls down. She desperately wants to let go of her "tough guy" facade and let herself taste Azzi's lips again.

“No. You don’t get to say that now. Not when you have a fiancé waiting for you in the restaurant.” The vulnerability that Paige showed is once again blocked by the ramparts of her castle. The remembrance of Charles’s presence hits Azzi like an 18-wheeler. “It’s evident that you can’t own up to any of the mistakes that you made.”

“You’re not taking any accountability for it either! Do you think I haven’t tried?” Paige flinches, backing away from Azzi who is now screaming. “You had to address it at the fucking draft. For fuck’s sake, let me explain my side of the story.”

“I tried to give you space because clearly, you wanted to fuck around with him. You don’t get to explain your side of the story. It was the night of the March Madness championship and you ch-”

“Oh, shit.” A new voice joins their argument. Paige whips her head around and sees Dearica and Cameron looking at them with wide eyes. “Azzi, I don’t think you should-”

“No it’s okay,” Paige feigns a smile before pulling out of Azzi’s grip. “Welcome to the City of Dreams, Azzi. I’m sorry for having to leave so abruptly.”

And she’s gone. Packed away in the backseat of an Uber. It hurts Azzi more than it should. The doors to Paige’s heart that used to be held open for Azzi are now barricaded off, isolating her.

“What the fuck happened?” The blonde turns to Azzi with an edge of hostility in her tone. Dearica glares at her, and Azzi’s heart free-falls into her stomach.

“Azzi?!” Charles’s deep voice calls out, and Azzi is grateful to be saved from the awkward confrontation. When his eyes land on her, they soften and he wraps her into a tight embrace. Every piece of contact between them feels scratchy and uncomfortable, especially in Paige’s jacket. “Don’t fucking leave me again.” He snarls into her ear before glaring at her jacket.

The other women turn to leave before exchanging an uncomfortable look with each other.

***

An empty bottle of tequila is the only company Paige has on her bar table. Right as she lets the effects of the alcohol take her consciousness, her front door flies open. Every muscle in her body tenses and she buries her head into her arms in hopes that she will disappear.

“P?” It’s Cam. Her body relaxes.

A second pair of heavy footsteps make their way to the table. She stiffens again.

“It’s me, don’t worry. You’re alright” The other voice belongs to Dearica. She exhales and looks up. Cam’s eyes are fixed on the empty bottle of tequila and a heavy breath falls out of her mouth.

“Again? Seriously, Paige?” When Paige puts her head back down into her arms, Cam’s hands rub her back.

“Yeah. Again.” Sobs begin to wreck the blonde’s body and she shakes violently. Dearica and Cam exchange a panicked look before embracing their teammate.

“I’m sorry, Paige. What she did is fucked up” Dearica’s voice is soft and reassuring. “We tried to talk to her but, her, um, we were interrupted.” She and Cam are walking on thin ice; one bad step and their teammate will plunge in the freezing cold water.

“Let’s get you to bed. You have a big day tomorrow, so let’s make the most out of it.” Cam and Dearica carry their teammate, whose body is shaking violently while sobbing to bed.

For the 5th night in a row, she cries herself to sleep.

I need you.

***

“Charles, why do you want to marry me?”

“Because I love you baby, and I want to spend every second of my life with you. With us.”

“...Okay.”

“I promise I’ll never hurt you. I’ll be the one to protect you forever.”

“Azzi Fudd. What the fuck was that?” Charles sneers. His emerald eyes are alive, burning with acrimony. She doesn’t look up from her phone screen where her fingers shakily hover over the call button under Paige’s name.

“I’m sorry? I told you I was getting some air and I ran into Paige.” Her tone is surprisingly even and steady despite her trembling body. When a dark look falls across his face, she shudders. Suddenly, her phone is ripped from her hands and shattered against the wall with a loud smash that rings in her ears.

“Don’t fucking talk back to me. You saw what happened to your phone, and I know that you don’t want to be next.” He slams the door of their hotel room and stomps down the hall. When she doesn't hear the obnoxiously loud footsteps anymore, she allows her body to collapse and cries into her pillow while she thinks about the promises that they made on their engagement night.

I need you.

#pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers #angst #pazzi fics #Spotify

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hornyhornyhimbos · 1 year ago

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Happy By The Poolside

pairing: steve harrington x afab!reader

summary: while they wait for the annual pool party to start, steve knows exactly how to keep his lover happy by the poolside ☼♡

word count: 1,477

warnings: MINORS DNI (18+ CONTENT) oral f!receiving, fingering f!receiving, semi-public sex (sex by the pool), nicknames (baby, sweetheart), edancy appearance because i said so, allusions to steve jerkin it in the bathroom, no pronouns or reader descriptors used other than reader wearing a bikini, color coded speaker tags!

genre: fluffy, established relationship smut ♡

extra notes: did y'all really think i'd let fourth of july go by without slutty 'i <3 swimming' steve?

beta read by: @lcvingprentjss (love u sm)

masterlist | location smut prompts | ask box

it was hot. it was oh so hot. but it wasn't the 80° heat that had you feeling that way. no, what had you feeling that way was a certain brunette boy in big sunglasses and loose-hanging shorts.

you all but stared as steve emerged from the pool, blue swim trunks settled low on his waist, accentuating the trail of hair on his lower belly and the dips of his adonis belt. you practically drooled as he shook out his wet hair, beads of water flying about and landing in various spots on the concrete and your chaise.

he reached for the towel that he'd tossed at the end of the chair, a few loose droplets of of water falling onto your feet as he did so. you'd been happy right where you were, enjoying a magazine as the sun rays beat down on your body, fingers crossed that you'd have a tan after this, not a nasty case of sunburn. steve had been pouting half the morning, trying to get you in the pool with him, but you hadn't budged, saying you were happy by the poolside, waiting until the rest of your friends had arrived for the pool party.

still, even an hour after you'd sat down on the chaise, he wasn't letting up. "baby," he said, somehow managing to make the term sound conspiratorial, "are you sure you don't want to join me?"

you shook your head, putting this month's edition of cosmo to the side and taking off your sunglasses to meet his gaze. "everyone should be here soon. then you'll have plenty of time with me in the pool. it's not like dustin would ever let me miss the annual chicken fight."

he chuckled at your statement, but took your hand in both of his and gave you that look, the one he always gave you when he was determined to get you to do whatever he wanted. "come on, baby. please?" his bottom lip puckered out like a child in a candy store. "just for a few minutes?"

"nope," you answered, putting your sunglasses back on as the sun moved further overhead. "i only have so much time today to start on my tan. besides, they'll be here any minute."

in protest, steve pulled you up from the chair and tugged you toward the pool. "come on, at least dip your toes in."

you supposed you couldn't argue with his compromise. he walked around to the steps, slowly submerging himself in the pool once again, while you sank onto the concrete, dipping your feet into the contrastingly cool water. you chuckled as steve went limber, letting the small waves of water carry him through the pool. "you're missing out," he stated, like it was an absolute fact.

"i'm perfectly fine right here, my little fish," you teased. you kicked your feet softly in the water, watching as tiny ripples floated to join the bigger ones that carried steve. from this new angle, the sun was hidden behind his neighbors' trees, prompting you to place your sunglasses to the side and get a better look at steve: the once dark blue shorts now a beautiful cerulean, just a tad darker than the water he floated on, his normal wavy tufts now a sea of dark curls, the way his skin practically sparkled in the sliver of sunlight that wasn't hidden behind his neighbors' sugar maples. you watched as beads of water slid down his stomach, dragging along every crevice and line of his abs. you'd be lying if you said the sight didn't have you turned on.

steve must've noticed the way you'd been staring, forcing himself upright again and wading through the water toward you. unbeknownst to you, that little red bikini you had on was doing a number on him, his inner monologue and thoughts being driven by his little head at this point. he made his way over to you, placing a delicate kiss on your leg, looking up at you through water-matted eyelashes. "baby," he said, his tone teasing this time.

"hmm?" you hummed in response, afraid your voice would betray you if you said anything more.

his eyes flicked between your eyes and the place where your thighs squeezed together. you needed him, and you both knew it. "you okay?"

you managed to nod, the friction between your legs not at all aiding the want that had taken over your body. "i'm good," you said sheepishly, a blush creeping up your skin.

"are you sure? because," he paused, placing his giant palm on your knee and pulling your legs apart. he smirked at the wet spot he'd unknowingly created on your bathing suit. "you seem like you could use some help over here," he finished, his hand making its way up to your thigh.

the logical part of your brain managed to take over for a moment. "steve, people will be here any minute," you protested, despite the irrationally horny side of your brain that was currently fistfighting the logical side.

"then i'd better be quick," he said, his hands inching toward your bikini bottoms.

he left a space of availability in the air for any more protests you might have. after all, even though you were in a very established relationship, consent was always key. but you made no more argumentative comments, only approving moans and the occasional, "please," as he pulled your bathing suit down.

his lips met your clit with soft licks at first, giving you time to respond with just how hard and fast you needed it. your hands met his hair, tangling in the wet curls as you pulled him closer to you, letting out a soft moan as he suckled your bud.

he pulled your bikini bottoms all the way off, setting them aside on the concrete before meeting your pussy once again. your legs wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you again. his damp hair settled on the sides of your thighs, sending a shiver up your spine.

his tongue worked itself in heavenly figure eights around your core, while one of his hands met your entrance. he toyed at your hole with his fingertip, waiting for some kind of approval to continue.

you gave him exactly that, letting out a whine that sounded like an attempt to say, "please, stevie," but was nearly incoherent. he slipped one finger inside you, the sensation absolutely intoxicating.

he left a series of open-mouthed kisses on your clit, his digit continuing to bury itself inside you. he moaned at the taste, and the vibration had you inching closer to your release. your fingers curled into his hair while your toes curled into his back as his finger reached that sweet spot deep inside you.

the logical part of your brain took over once more as you spared a quick glance at your watch. "steve, they're gonna be here any second," you said through moans, hands pulling so hard at his hair that you were surprised you hadn't ripped it out yet.

"patience, baby, patience," he reminded you, immediately diving back into your cunt. his finger was accompanied by a second, his thrusts only becoming faster and deeper with every flex of the digits. your eyes had started to roll back and your toes had started to curl even harder. you were close, oh so close, and you both knew it.

the familiar rumble of eddie's truck trumpeted from what sounded like a few houses down. "steeeeve," you let out, ever so close to your orgasm.

his fingers drove impossibly deeper into your cunt, his mouth only parting from you to say, "cum for me, sweetheart."

as if on cue, your orgasm rippled throughout your body, pain and pleasure taking over all of your senses. a moan escaped your lips at the last possible second as the truck turned off outside the fence.

steve left one last open-mouthed kiss on your core before rushing to pull your bottoms back on. "you let them in while i go, uh, fix something in the bathroom."

you giggled, watching as steve padded toward the back door. surprisingly, you managed to compose yourself between the fifteen feet that lied between the pool and the gate, a smile making its way onto your lips as you let your friends in. "hey, guys," you greeted, moving to let the trio in.

mike entered first, while eddie and nancy stepped in behind him, eddie's arm tossed around his girl's shoulders. "you okay?" nancy asked, seemingly having noticed your wobbly legs.

"i'm fine," you answered. "just stood up a little too fast. got a little lightheaded."

steve chuckled as he closed the glass door behind him, making his way inside the house and heading toward the bathroom. if you thought that was lightheaded, just you wait until the after party…

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @writer-in-theory @esoltis280 @liberhoe @wifeyreid @serenity-lattes-reads

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 1 year ago

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Fourth of July With Tokio Hotel

Germany doesn't celebrate Fourth of July, obviously, but if you're from the states and do, you may have celebrated it before

Even if you weren't you guys were in America and heard of it

It was during the tour, they were in America and you're their bandmate or friend

So obviously they heard of it and you dragged them into celebrating it with you

Mainly for food and fireworks tho

Hands down Georg and Tom bought the big fireworks while you, Bill and Gustav were shopping for the smaller fountain ones or the sparklers

Tom and Georg wanted to go big so they got huge cases and everything

While you and Bill were shopping for candles, colorful sparklers and Gustav was going ham with dumping every fountain he could ever want

Bill found somewhere you light them and then they shoot out a little military guy with a parachute and you gotta catch them

Obviously you guys bought them all

Gustav found some where they spin and turn into a little house, and he also bought like 20

Georg was carrying like 3 giant cases of fireworks, sparklers and cannons all in one and Tom was riding an entire cart with 5 of the same cases

Safe to say, you guys left very happy

On the actual day of Fourth of July, Bill was the one cooking practically anything

Except if it was grilling, he left that as Gustavs job to grill the meat and hotdogs on the grill

Tom was the one to try and light a firework but was back up too soon to actually light it

Georg lit one and didn't warn you guys and laughed as you all jumped as sudden giant ass cannon went on and exploded

It was pretty don't worry but Tom jumped on you because Georg didn't warn any of y'all

Gustav was chasing you and Bill with multiple lit sparklers and cackling as you guys fucked and ran to get away from being set on fire

Gustav had the amazing idea to see who could light as many as possible without dying

Georg and Tom took him up on his offer and you and Bill, the ones who actually wanted to live, watched from the bed of a truck

A bush lit on fire and you and Bill laughed your asses off as you watched Georg and Tom struggle to put it out

It was Gustavs firelight that lit the bush on fire but he shrugged and walked away, and lit ANOTHER ONE

Tom and you were getting so competitive at catching those military guys that you had to catch

You guys were lighting one after another and running to catch it

You guys were pushing each other out of the way but were no match as Bill almost tackled you guys for one

Candles couldn't be held by any of you guys as Gustav was threatening to shoot on at Bills ass

He even tried to, almost succeeding in lighting it before you took it away

You still have no idea if he was actually bluffing but-

Georg was just there vibing, lighting giant cakes as well and standing back with beer like a proud uncle as he watched all the lights go out

You guys got into a little war with the neighbors on who had the best fireworks

It wasn't really a war but Bill saw they had a bigger and more colorful one than you guys and took that personally

You guys somehow acquired many neighborhood children in running around with sparklers and hotdogs

A lot of kids knew how famous you guys were but just liked y'all as people and wanted to hang out with you guys for the Holiday

But that didn't make them immune to you guys tackling each other for an army guy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @billsjum6ie @bigbootahjudy @dead-tapes @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @billybabeskaulitz @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0 @graciegizmo3184 @sweetpuffy12 @elenacgn08 @80s-tingz @ryiana @yuriayato5 @juliarc28 @bunnysenpai31

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel georg #gustav tokio hotel #gustav schäfer x reader #gustav schäfer #gustav schafer #georg #georg listing x reader #georg listing

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mimikyu-tmblr · 4 months ago

Text

Happy belated fourth of July y'all ✨

Can someone help him get off this firework please?

#inspector gadget #gadget #fan art #my artwork #4th of july #artists on tumblr

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steddieunderdogfics · 10 months ago

Note

this is tagged as 'fix it of sorts,' so it could work for fix it weekend? or a general rec:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50783956/chapters/128288278#workskin

songs that voices never share

by hairstevington

songs that voices never share by hairstevington

@hairstevington

Rating: Not rated

43,433 words, 13/? chapters

Archive Warning:

Tags: Alternate Canon, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Deaf Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, American Sign Language, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Found Family, Fix-It of Sorts, Healing, Healthy Relationships, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Romance, Slow Burn, as always y'all you know the drill by now lol, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, A bit of a whump, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Deaf Character, Hurt/Comfort, Eddie Munson Lives, Protective Eddie Munson, POV Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington-centric, Might have eddie POV too??, Nonverbal Communication, Post-Season/Series 03, Pre-Season/Series 04, Pre-Relationship

Summary:

Everything's felt a little off since the Fourth of July, and no one's talking about it. Of course, one part of Steve's summer is a bit hard to ignore - he's losing his hearing. As luck would have it, a friend of Dustin's ends up playing a key role in Steve's adjustment to his new normal. (Title taken from the song "Sound of Silence" by Simon and Garfunkel)

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is fix it fics and season rewrites.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie fic recs #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #theme weekend #not rated #fix it fic #deaf steve harrington #hurt/comfort #slow burn #fluff and angst

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hollybee8917 · 8 months ago

Text

Blueprint for Romance

Chapter 1: Sparks on the Fourth of July

Characters: Chris Evans, Bekah Baker (OFC)

Plot: Chris, an actor, meets Bekah, an architect, and falls faster for her than he does for anyone else.

Word count: 2321

Warnings for this chapter: Language

A/N: Big thanks to @joannaliceevans-fanficblog and @cevansbaby-dove for proofing this! Y'all are awesome!

“Hey, Chris! Come on back, man!”

Chris Evans stepped through the gate and grabbed his buddy Jason’s hand and pulled him into a hug, “Thanks for inviting me.”

Jason nodded, “Of course! The party is just starting. Tara, Carly and Ryan are in the back with the kids. Your mom pulled got here about five minutes ago with Shanna. Lisa is currently talking to Tara’s parents. My parents should be here soon. There are a bunch of other people coming too.”

Chris nodded and made his way to the backyard. Music was playing and the kids were splashing in the pool. Carly waved, “Chris! I’m so glad you finally got here! Tara has a story to tell you!”

He laughed and grabbed a beer from the cooler. Tara began her story but Chris didn’t really listen. Zach Jarvis, Jon Leonard, Mark King and their families all wandered through the gate and with each arrival, Chris’ face fell a little more.

“Hey, you okay?” Tara wrapped an arm around Chris and he returned the gesture.

The actor sighed, “Yeah. I just… Sorry, it’s a bit ridiculous.”

The woman shook her head, “Not at all. I know it’s hard seeing everyone so happy. You’ll get there one day.”

Chris could only exhale lightly. Tara hugged him once more, “You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really. I’m gonna go get another beer. You might wanna keep an eye on Winnie. She’s about to go jump in the deep end and I know she doesn’t know how to swim yet.”

“Oh shit.” Tara turned and ran toward her young daughter.

Chris laughed as he watched Tara grab her child. Isaac Harden approached him and handed him a Stella Artois. Isaac smiled sheepishly, “Hey man, I hope you don’t mind but my fiancée invited a friend to come. I ran it by Jason and Tara and they said it was okay. Just wanted to give you a head’s up. I doubt she will cause any trouble but just in case, do you want me to keep her away?”

“No, it’s okay.”

The friend tilted his head, “I hear she’s cute. And single.”

A scoff escaped Chris, “Is that why Alaina invited her? Is it a set up?”

Isaac laughed, “Naw man. I wouldn’t do that to you. That’s some shit Jon or Kath would do. The friend’s name is Bekah.”

Chris shrugged, “Okay. So?”

With a sniff, Isaac replied, “I haven’t met the girl before but Alaina says she’s gorgeous and sweet. She also says that Bekah has like 7 properties around the world.”

Cocking an eyebrow, Chris bit back, “You think that impresses me?”

“Did I mention that she has a master’s in architecture from Oxford University? Alaina tells me that Bekah is amazing. I haven’t seen it yet though. Whenever she gets here, I’ll have Alaina introduce you to her.”

“Whatever. I’m gonna grab some food. You want anything?”

Isaac shook his head, “I’m good right now.”

Chris nodded and made his way into the house where people were milling about the table grabbing food. His mother pulled him aside, “You okay, baby boy? You seem a bit down.”

“I’m fine, Ma. I’m just hungry. You want anything?”

Lisa replied, “I’m okay. I’ve been snacking a little bit here and there.”

He smiled back at her, “Once I have a little food, I’m going to head back outside.”

“Okay baby.”

He walked around the table and piled his plate full of cheese, crackers, fruit salad and a couple of sandwiches. Then he went back outside to mingle,

Chris was sipping on his drink and talking to she walked through the gate. He stopped mid-sentence and could only stare. Her chestnut hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and the sunlight made her green eyes shine. She was a bit taller, maybe five foot and seven inches tall and lean. In her hands, she held a twelve pack of Stella Artois beer, a container of homemade cookies and a bottle of wine. Alaina greeted her and her smile took Chris’ breath away.

The woman wore a light red and white sundress with a polka dot ribbon in her hair and white flats. Her sun kissed skin perfectly contrasted with the shade of red in the dress. Things started to grow dark for Chris and he realized he had been holding his breath. Now, though, he couldn’t start letting air into his lungs. The actor started to tilt.

“Chris!”

As he hit the ground, he felt his nose being pinched closed and air being pushed into his lungs. Slowly he took a deep breath then began to cough. His eyes opened and he saw her leaning over him. He sat up and tried to catch his breath. Lisa sat down next to her son, “Are you okay, Chris?”

With a gentle smile, the woman before him said, “Easy. Your lungs are hungry for air. Take slow deep breaths.”

The woman’s voice was soft and melodic, “Hi Chris. I’m Bekah.”

He slowed his breathing, “Thank you, Bekah.”

Jason extended his hand and helped Chris to his feet, “You scared us pal.”

Bekah stepped back, “You are feeling okay?”

Chris gulped slightly, “I’m better now. Thank you for helping me.”

She smiled again, “Of course. Take some water. I would slow down on the beer. Just my recommendation.”

Then she walked away. Chris’ eyes followed her the entire way. Tara tilted her head and looked up at her best friend, “I think she’s the one, Chris. Go talk to her.”

“It’s embarrassing. I just passed out in front of her, Tara. There’s no way that she’d ever consider me.”

His best friend of over twenty years bit back, “Just give her a try. You never know. I saw how she looked at you. She’s interested.”

“Not after what just happened.”

“Give her a fucking chance, Chris.”

“Honey,” Lisa broke in, “She’s glancing at you. I don’t think it’s out of concern either. She seems curious and interested. Go talk to her.”

Reluctantly, Chris looked over to where Bekah was sitting. His eyes met hers and he dipped his chin as if he was asking permission to approach her. Bekah tilted her head with a smile and nodded.

The actor made his way over to the brunette and she motioned for him to sit down, “I was talking to your friend about your time in the theater. I’m a bit of a thespian myself. Were you more musical or non-musical?”

Chris bit his lip, “I was more into musicals. You did theater too? What plays did you do?”

Bekah laughed again, a melodic sound, “It’s easier to say what plays I didn’t do. Honestly, I didn’t do a whole lot of theater. I was too busy with my acting career.”

“Acting career? I thought you were an architect.”

Bekah glanced away for half a second then focused her attention back to Chris, “I’m an architect now but I did some acting from the ages of eight to fifteen.”

Leaning back, Chris scratched his cheek, “Anything I might have heard of?”

A short pause filled the air then Bekah waved her hand, “Oh just small things. My first gig was a reoccurring role on a little show called 7th Heaven.”

“No shit? I knew someone on that show. And that’s not exactly a little show.”

“Yeah, I know. You dated Jessica Biel for five years. A couple of those years, I was on the show. It’s a small world because Jessica is a good friend of mine. Or she used to be before she went off her rocker with the anti-vax stuff.”

Chris let loose a long laugh and Bekah joined in, “I’m kidding of course. Jess is a great person and a good friend.”

The man beside her stood, “Do you want anything to drink? I’m gonna go grab me a beer.”

Bekah followed his lead and stood up, “I’ll join you. I could use a Stella right now.”

As the pair approached the cooler, Chris turned to Bekah, “So what other ‘small’ things have you done because I doubt they’re small.”

The woman beside him rubbed the back of her neck, “A cult following series called Harry Potter, a fantasy trilogy no one has heard of called Lord of the Rings and a little known sci-fi movie called Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith.”

Chris all but dropped his beer, “Say again? Those aren’t small things!”

“Oh and I did this silly little superhero film starring some guy named Chris Evans as the Human Torch. I can’t quite remember the name of it. The Incredible Quad? The Fabulous Foursome?”

“The Fantastic Four.” Chris cocked an eyebrow in amusement.

She smiled broadly at him, “That’s it! I never had any scenes with the guy but I hear he’s lovely to work with.”

Chris smirked, “I wouldn’t know.”

Retreating back to the shade of the trees, Chris and Bekah sat at a small table that had been set up for the party. As they talked, Chris found himself completely enamored with this girl. She made him laugh so easily and it was obvious that she may be interested in him so he pushed a little further, “So why did you quit acting?”

Bekah sighed, “Honestly, I was tired of the lights and the cameras and the exposure. I went to my parents when I was sixteen and told them I was tired of the limelight. I didn’t want to be a child actress anymore. They accepted it with grace. I was about to graduate high school so I wanted to focus on other things like college and relationships that were crumbling.”

“You graduated high school at sixteen? And you went to college after?”

“I did. But I feel like we are talking too much about me. I want to know more about you.”

Chris shuddered a bit, “My life isn’t all that interesting.”

“Nonsense. I’m sure over your twenty plus years of acting, you have seen and experienced some stuff. What is the most exciting place you have filmed?”

The actor leaned back and raised the bottle to his lips, “I filmed in Costa Rica once. South Africa and Namibia were cool too when I went there. As for most exciting? I would probably say filming in Costa Rica. How about you?”

“Oh, most definitely New Zealand. I went to a set in Auckland and shot on a green screen. I also went with a couple of others to the area of the Shire. It was beautiful. I have filmed in London as well and that’s quite the city. If you have to pick a comfort character that you have portrayed, who would it be?”

Rolling his eyes to the sky in thought, Chris thought a moment then answered, “I know the most logical answer is going to be Steve Rogers but as my comfort character, he doesn’t quite make the cut. If I really had to choose? Fuck, that’s really hard. Hmmm. I’ll have to think about that. What about you?”

Bekah opened her mouth to reply but her phone rang. Glancing down at it, she threw Chris an apologetic glance, “I’m so sorry. I have to take this.”

As she walked away, Chris heard her say, “Hallo, das ist Frau Baker. Was brauchen Sie?”

Chris sat in shock unable to comprehend the fact the woman knew German. Tara and Lisa wandered over. Plopping down in the vacated seat, Tara smirked, “So, how’s it going?”

The man looked between his best friend and his mother, “She speaks German.”

Lisa spoke up, "Well, that's new. You’ve never been with a girl who knows German before."

Tara gasped "Chris, she's amazing! You have to ask her out."

He looked over to the side of the yard where Bekah was speaking animatedly on her phone. Tara poked him, “Earth to Chris. Pay attention to us.”

Lisa shot Tara a look, “Take it easy. He’s obviously interested in her. He just needs time.”

Tara made a face, stood and walked away. Chris turned to his mother, “Do you think I actually have a chance with this one?”

His mother put her hand on his arm, “It will only happen if you make it happen. Whether or not you have a chance is up only to you.”

Bekah returned to the table just as Chris was about to respond to his mother. With a smile, she addressed Chris and Lisa, “I’m sorry for interrupting but I just wanted to say how lovely it was to meet you both. I’m afraid I have to dash. I wish I could stay for the fireworks but something has come up with my Germany office. I have to leave in the morning to handle it.”

The older woman returned the smile, “It was nice to meet you too. I hope we see each other again.”

But Chris stayed silent. Lisa prodded him in the ribs and he yelped. Bekah’s lips twitched for half a second, “I hope so too.”

She turned and wandered over to Jason and Tara where she said her goodbyes. As she walked to the gate, Lisa poked Chris again, “If you don’t do it now, you’ll never know.”

He jumped to his feet and followed Bekah around the house, “Bekah, wait.”

She turned and almost hopeful asked, “Yes?”

“I wondered if you would like to go on a date.”

A wide grin spread across her face, “With you? Sure.”

“Great! Um, when?”

Bekah tightened her ponytail, “How about Friday of next week?”

“That sounds amazing. Do you wanna do dinner or..”

“Dinner sounds wonderful.”

His heart soared, “I’ll see you then.”

Bekah tilted her head, “Hand me your phone.”

“Why?”

“How else will you get ahold of me, silly?”

Feeling a hundred feet tall, Chris did so and Bekah input her information. As she turned to her car she stated, “I like pizza.”

#chris evans au #chris evans x ofc #chris evans series #chris evans fanfiction

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j0kers-light · 1 year ago

Text

His Lighthouse: She Knows (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

She Knows

series summary:

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

chapter summary:

A series of events led you to this exact moment where you and Joker's worst nightmare finally came true. She knew and you had no doubt she would tell the world.

author’s note:

WARNING CLIFFHANGER AHEAD (again)

Wow! Funny how I’m late but updating on a Wednesday of all days... anyhoo hope everyone had a great Fourth of July if you’re state side. Be petty and listen to She Knows by J. Cole. I had way too much fun adding in memes and pop culture references into this chapter! If you don’t understand one, do message me! I’d be more than happy to explain!

taglist:

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

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

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

A series of events led you to this exact moment.

You were in your apartment being accused of everything to Metropolis and back. The accuser happened to be your friend and she wasn't holding anything back.

"How long have you two been together? Y'all were on some secret bull___t that night at the club, I should've known then! Of all people why him, Y/n? Have you lost your mind?!"

The questions kept coming with no end in sight.

Florence was in full rage mode, pointing her coffin acrylics in your face, well on the verge of hysterics. Your audience wasn't too far behind. It was utter chaos in your dining room. Neo braved the fray and tried to tone Florence down but she smacked his hands away and whirled on him instead.

"I don't wanna hear s__t from you!"

"Flo baby—" He tried again until Florence dismissed him with a flip of her middle finger.

"F__k you! I'll deal with you later! Right now, Y/n gotta own up to her s__t! It's the least she can do!"

You glanced at the group of people gathered around your dinner table and sighed. This was beyond embarrassing but unfortunately it was happening all because Dick couldn't keep his mouth shut.

The culprit sat watching the drama unfold with a smug grin on his face. Times like this you hated him so much..

This was all his fault.

He backed you into a corner that you couldn't run from. You were tired of hiding and lying to everyone but that wasn't the point. It wasn't Dick's business to tell and now you were in the hot seat because he decided to meddle. They deserved to know the truth.. but how would you begin to clear up the air and set the facts straight?

"Florence.. please just calm down, and let me explain.."

The sad thing is; you never got the chance to.

Four days ago...

You looked up at Dick when he leaned his forearms on the counter. "So, Y/n? When do I get to meet Prince Charming?"

You were speechless. All you could do was blink as your brain did a full Windows shutdown. You felt like throwing up, curling up into a ball, and screaming out into the ether all at once.

In no way, shape, or form, was this happening. You shook your head and glanced down at the gossip magazine still in your hands. Did Joker know about all this? Was this the mysterious contents of the manila folder you found back at the beach house?

No, you were confident that J would've told you if he knew beforehand.

This was bad news for both you and his career. You were a popular author nationwide with a cult following on social media. You were set to frontline GothCon in a few months and promo ads and interviews about your most recent book were still circulating within the media. Despite all of the buzz, it had been a while since you were followed by paparazzi. You weren't the most exciting person, so you weren't entirely sure what piqued their interest.

Joker would be livid when he found out he was captured twice on camera.

He was still a wanted criminal, going almost three months strong in hiding. This could ruin everything between you and him. Right before it could officially start.

You were rereading the article when Dick spoke up. "Oh and I talked to your mom."

You almost snapped your neck with how fast you looked up. He mentioned it so casually as if he didn't already drop a bomb on your Monday. "You did what?"

"Y/n, please keep up with me here. I talked to Mom. You haven't called her in three weeks! That's tots not like you. Anyways, she and I got to scheming and get this–"

It concerned you with just how close Dick was to your parents. More on that later you suppose. Something told you this next bit wouldn't be good.

"They're coming to visit! I know, I know. It's very last minute, but your dad and I are gonna bbq and I already invited everyone else so you don't have to worry." He beamed from your island counter.

Such a shame you were anything but ecstatic.

Was this a prank of some sort? Did you hit your head over the weekend? Was this a fever dream? You lived in Gotham City for a year now and your parents never came to visit. Not because they didn't love you, more so, both parties involved had conflicting work schedules.

They couldn't have picked a better time to visit. This was all way too much for your brain to process.

"Dick, what? I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Run that back! You can't just make plans with my parents at my place and NOT TELL ME!" You shouted.

You watched him roll his crystal blue eyes, the same ones girls in this city, (and in Blüdhaven) swooned over. When you first met Dick you had to admit, his suave demeanor piqued your interest too.

You quickly got over that silly crush. His attitude was a piece of work. Speaking of... He smirked, "I just did."

As much as you loved Dick Grayson, you wanted to kill him right about now. You sat the magazine down and wiped your face with a groan.

"Hooooooooo my God! You're just like Cindy making it impossible for me to rain check things! When is this happening? Not like my input matters but it'll be nice to know when."

You just spent a relaxing four day vacation away from the city only to return and be forced into a family reunion. What joy.

Dick shrugged his shoulders, "This Thursday." He knew you would panic but the temper tantrum you were having was over the top.

Your neck rolled as your lashes fluttered in disbelief. He popped another snack into his mouth and waited for the inevitable outcry.

"Richard John Grayson!" There it was.

"Using my full name? Now that's sexy." He easily dodged the magazine you threw at his head.

It knocked something over on the counter behind him but neither of you paid it any attention. Dick glanced at you and cringed. He knew that face all too well. You were pissed.

"C'mon, Y/n. It's the perfect weather for a get-together; everyone is free, all you gotta do is unlock the door and look cute. Which wouldn't be too difficult." He added with another one of his boyish smiles.

Unfortunately, you were immune to his charms. This was not how you wanted to spend your week.

Your apartment was in desperate need of a deep clean, you knew Dick depleted your fridge, so that meant more grocery shopping, and quite honestly, you wanted to relax with Joker and spend time with him— not entertain guests!

But Dick went ahead and made plans for you. Without your permission! You had enough and started to chase him around the kitchen and into your living room.

The police officer had the upper hand and always stayed just out of your reach. His laughter floated up to the high ceilings and the husky sound only fueled your anger.

You got even more frustrated from going around in circles and stopped to catch your breath by leaning on the couch. Dick bounced on the balls of his feet, not winded in the slightest.

Since when were you so out of shape?

"Were you out of shape when you took J's dick a day ago?" The devil on your left shoulder asked out of the blue. "Cuz he folded us like a lawn chair." She cackled to herself.

"And we took it like a champ too!" The angel added after she materialized on your right shoulder.

In a rare gesture, she sided with her archnemesis. That's when you knew it was bad.

It was official. You were making a therapy appointment this week. Having full blown conversations with figments of your imagination really needed to stop. You refused to turn into the mentally ill.

Although you'd fit in perfectly within Gotham City and you doubted Joker would mind a looney girlfriend. Woah. Stop right there.

You had yet to tell J that you loved him! What business did you have putting labels on things? You physically shook those thoughts away. Back to the matter at hand.

"Who else.. did you.. invite?" You wheezed out in Dick's direction.

He faked to his left but you predicted his movements and almost got a hold of him if you didn't stumble on the decorative rug. Thankfully your colorful ottoman nearby, thus preventing a bad fall.

"Whatever do you mean Y/n?" He laughed after he knew you were okay.

He thought this was a game. Stupid agile former acrobat..

"You.. know what I mean Grayson!" You shouted as you dived over the dining table but Dick just vaulted over it with the grace of his family's name. You crumbled to the floor on the other side but quickly ran after him back into the kitchen, grumbling along the way.

"Annoying, extroverted, pain in my—"

"Oo! Bad Y/n! No swearing in the apartment!" Dick chided you.

You weren't going to catch him so you looked around for an equalizer.

Dick huffed when you hit him dead in the face with a roll of paper towels. He smacked them aside and raised his arms in surrender when he noticed you found something heavier to throw.

"S__t! Easy! Easy, Y/n! Okay, I'll explain! Just don't hurt my face!"

You lowered the bread box back down onto the counter with a heavy thud. It was solid wood, an heirloom from your mother's side of the family.

"THEN START ELABORATING GRAYSON!"

"Lower your voice. How about we take this conversation to the balcony?" He suggested.

You jutted your hip and crossed your arms, "Why? You scared?"

Dick chuckled to himself. You were a spitfire when you wanted to be. He didn't want to admit it aloud, but your aim was better than a quarterback.

"Yeah.. there's not much out there you can throw at me." He confessed.

The both of you shared a laugh and the tension between you both dissipated. "Alright, fine. I won't hurt that pretty face of yours. For now. Lead the way." You said.

He walked over to hold out his arm like a proper gentleman but not before tipping your chin up with his index finger. "You think I'm pretty, Y/n?"

"Mhm." You hummed, "Pretty annoying."

Dick just laughed and guided you out onto the balcony.

A random breeze tossed your hair as you sat your glass down on the table. Your hands were damp from the condensation and you wiped them off on your jeans as you faced Dick.

He was already staring at you with those clear blue eyes of his. They accessed you like he knew something you didn't. His knowing gaze and the gossip magazine he showed you earlier; your anxiety was at an all time high.

"So... Are you gonna explain or just stare at me all afternoon?"

He sat his own beverage down with a smirk before leaning back on the patio couch.

"The latter sounds like time better spent but.. you do deserve an explanation. Like I said earlier, your parents and I organized this get-together for Thursday. They haven't visited since you moved here and you deserve a breather from work. We all do. It's just our close friends, nothing serious Y/n, so don't go decorating or doing anything extravagant."

"I'll admit, I haven't been around lately since I picked up more shifts back home and.." You blinked in shock watching Dick Grayson, of all people, falter.

He always had the right words to say. You wrung your lip as he nodded to himself and returned your gaze.

"I don't want you lifting a finger, Y/n. Don't fight me on this! I'll clean the apartment for you, just relax these next few days and let me take care of things while I'm here."

You paled. Two months ago if he dropped by wanting to stay over, it wouldn't have been an issue. Dick came and went as he pleased— never staying more than a week at a time, but things were different now.

You had Joker.

And Dick Grayson, a police officer stationed in Blüdhaven with strong ties to Gotham City, could not find out about Joker staying here.

You could fool Barbara and the girls, but Dick with his natural perceptiveness and fondness for being nosy would definitely find incriminating evidence if he stayed over. You couldn't allow that.

"Uh... wow.. I'm uhh shocked that you, of all people, want to clean. Alfred must be clutching his pearls right about now. But um.. you don't have to stay with me Dick. I-I can clean the place and have everything ready by Thurs—-"

He waved off your excuse like a fly. "Nonsense, Y/n/n! I've been here since Friday."

Your ears were ringing and your hands felt clammy. When did it get so hot? Dick didn't notice the early stages of a panic attack occurring right in front of him. "Huh?"

He took your startled reply with a grain of salt.

"Yeah, I arrived in town late Friday night but I had to check in with the old man and Alfred. That took longer than expected. Then Barbara texted me n' said that you were still out of town, so I crashed at your place instead of going home. I've been chillin over here ever since!"

Your right eye twitched. "H-Here? You slept here?"

Dick quirked an eyebrow. "Yes, Y/n. I just said that. I don't see the problem, I used to stay over in the past, no biggie. I didn't go in your room if that's what you're freaking out about, geez."

Like him going into your room was the issue here. You trusted him in that regard. You were panicking because Joker had temporarily moved into your guest room and the bathroom therein.

All it would take was one out of place item and Dick would ask who was staying with you, or worse. He'd deduce exactly who your roommate is and ruin everything for you.

You had to warn Joker not to come back. Scratch that. You needed to check his room and see if he left anything out.

You stood up abruptly and mumbled out an excuse.

"You know what? I really need to um, get caught up on.. uh laundry. Yes! Laundry and dusting! And have you seen those plants of mine? Dry as a bone! I should ahhh... do that. Water that. Them, I mean..."

You turned to make a beeline inside but Dick's voice halted your steps.

"Stop." He stood and eyed you pensively as he got closer.

"You ramble when you're nervous and it's rare that you let your place get so far behind on chores. Which tells me that you haven't been home in a while. Just how long have you been gone, young lady?" You avoided his gaze, picking you apart.

'Honestly Y/n, make yourself look more guilty.' You groaned internally.

Dick's eyes shifted to your shoulder to the array of bite marks finally healing from the weekend.

"You have been naughty, Y/n!" You flushed red and pushed him away.

Dick hardly moved. "Finally got laid huh? Was it Prince Charming? Did he fly you out so you could get some D? D__n Y/n, he must be really good then."

Technically he was right. Joker did in fact fly you out to Massachusetts and his stroke game was immaculate... but that wasn't the point here!

Dick laughed even harder when you rolled your eyes. "But we both know that's not the full truth. He stays here too."

He smiled at your horrified face. "Uh huh. I saw his stuff in the guest room. Woah, easy here Y/n! Don't go passing out on me!"

You swayed on your feet and Dick's arms shot out to catch you.

"Geez, dramatic much? I'm happy if you're happy, but I still want to meet him. I gotta talk to him and all."

The sun on the balcony was frying your head. Dick was talking out of his neck at this point. "T-Talk? About what?"

Dick just shook his head and drew you in for a hug.

"Y/n. Despite the hard time I give you, you're like a little sister to me. So if this guy means a lot to you, well. I wanna meet him. Someone's gotta give him a good Blüdhaven warning and I volunteer since I have all this natural intimidation going on."

You didn't have the heart to tell Dick that Joker was taller than him and far more intimidating. You simply snorted and accidentally spoke aloud.

"Tuh, good luck with that."

Dick leaned back so he could look down at you with a purple Riddler mark on his face.

"Nothing, I-I didn't say anything." Something flashed in his clear blue eyes but it was gone before you could question what.

He was back to himself in record time.

"O..K.. Hey! Why don't you go get your laundry sorted out and I'll start dusting the ceilings, yeah?" You jumped and shined your e/c eyes up at Dick.

"You'll dust for me?! Last time I almost died going up the ladder."

Dick sighed and rolled his gaze upward. "Y/n, you are too accident prone to be on anybody's ladder."

You awkwardly laughed and hugged your brother. You never had a sibling before. It was new and exciting until too much physical contact got overbearing.

"Mkay, that's enough." You pushed him away to begin the aforementioned chores.

Thankfully Dick wasn't insulted and left you to your own devices.

You watched him mosey back inside and disappear into your storage room, most likely, to fish out the cleaning supplies. While he was distracted, you sprinted to your bedroom with your phone.

You were grateful that Joker gave you his number over the weekend. However he said it was only to be used for emergencies. You considered him coming back and accidentally meeting Dick an emergency. You had to avoid them meeting at all costs.

You sealed yourself in your bedroom and made sure you dialed the one-call number correctly and waited.

It rang and rang and your stomach felt like it was sitting atop a rollercoaster hill, waiting for him to answer.

And without momentum, you rolled back to the station. It rang to a generic message. You weren't sure how you felt about leaving a voicemail but you already came this far, you couldn't waste the dial you made. So you took a deep breath and began.

"J.... It's me. Um. I have a friend over. Like staying over over. It's not safe for you to come back anytime soon. Please don't be upset with me. I also have a big family dinner this Thursday that I can't back out of so, please. Please, J! Don't come back until I give you a signal. I'll find a way.. I lo.. Ahhhh, um uh b-bye!"

You ended the call with shaky hands.

Did you almost say that on a freaking voicemail? Of all the worst times to confess, that would have been so anticlimactic. Thank goodness you caught yourself from making a complete fool of yourself.

Joker deserved a better declaration than some halfhearted mention on a voicemail that he'd probably would never listen to.

'Y/n, pull ya together girl. He's probably just busy.. '

He did sacrifice an entire weekend of his time to kick it back with you. He was probably drowning in whatever stuff a psychotic crime boss did at the office. Did Joker even have an office?

You pictured him behind an executive desk stacked high with papers and quickly wiped that image from your mind. It was replaced with J sliding down stacks of counterfeit money and torturing people in seedy back rooms. That was a better reality than Joker in an office setting.

You sighed and programmed your brain to focus on laundry and not on a certain criminal that vexed your heart and soul.

Little did you know— your mental imagery of him was spot on.

Joker was in fact working overtime to make up for his weekend vacation with you. In the short timeframe the two of you parted ways, he met up with Frost to go over pressing matters.

Joker knew about the photos.

It was upsetting that there were images of him floating around but it was more damaging to you. He tried to stop it on Thursday night, but the pap gave him and his men the slip.

Joker made sure you were safely tucked in at the hotel before he and Frost tore Atlanta apart trying to find the scumbag.

Joker thought that flying out of state would shake the trail, but this photographer was good. Too good, as if they had inside intel that helped them stalk you and Joker to Martha's Vineyard. Joker hated lots of things but he hated a rat the most.

Finding the snitch within his own organization proved to be difficult when Joker wasn't in Gotham City, so he had to wait until Monday to continue his investigation. He played things off and calmed your nerves at the beach house after that envelope came and made things worse.

Joker did not like being taunted. He needed to get to the bottom of this issue quickly. It was already irritating him.

The second he landed the jet at the Archie Goodwin International airport, outside of Gotham City proper; your security detail was there and waiting. You were sent off to your apartment and Joker immediately got to work.

Back to reality it seems.

Joker questioned if it would be easier to just whisk you away to some remote location until all of this blew over, but he knew you wouldn't go for it. You were independent and stubborn. You wouldn't hide like a coward. He admired that about you.

Too bad this was a serious threat that needed to be addressed and being stubborn about it could get you killed.

Some of your freedom would be sacrificed in order to protect you. Hopefully you would understand.

A pep rally, a test of loyalty, and a mass execution later, Joker weeded out the loose ends within his gang. One managed to give good information before croaking over and Joker saw red.

The bad feeling he had back at the airport was coming true. Things were far worse than he expected.

He followed the lead and lo and behold, it led back to his current best friend, Ivan Burbanc. Granted, Ivan didn't feel honored being Joker's friend, in time, maybe they could warm up to each other.

He already had the best seat in the house; a rickety chair underneath a light bulb, tucked away from prying eyes— although Ivan couldn't appreciate all of this since he had a sack over his head. His arms and legs were tied down and he was a frantic mess assuming the worst, until a door opened a little ways off.

Joker nodded at Mac to leave. The blond was standing guard and tossed over his shoulder, "We ruffled him up a bit during the grab. He's all yours, Boss."

Joker hummed in response. Quite honestly he didn't care about the lesser details. He just wanted to get the intel he needed and move on.

The more time he spent working was another minute spent away from you. Joker was like a drug addict needing his fix and you were an island over, blissfully unaware that Joker was getting his hands dirty, all to keep you safe.

The less you knew, the better. But he needed to see you soon.

He approached the paparazzi with calculated steps. The poor guy was nearly pissing himself in fear but Joker needed him to choke on it to get the answers he sought.

Ivan knew someone entered the room. Their exact location was unknown.

He jumped when he heard an eerie voice to his immediate right. "I just wanna know why. Why? Whyyy did you do it?"

Such an ambiguous question but it prompted the desired response. "Why what? I-I don't know what you're talking about man! I'm just a photographer! Please, you gotta let me go!"

"Just a pho-to-graph-er? Hm.. so uh, stalking and harassment are just perks of the eh.. job? You see. You tooK a picture of someone. Thursday. Night. And that... thaT. That is a big problem, uh Ivan? Is it?"

By this point, Ivan realized he was in deep s__t. This wasn't just some average Gotham City misunderstanding.

It wasn't out of place for a citizen to find themselves snatched from the street if they dabbled in crime. Being a paparazzi at times required him to get his hands dirty, but he was still a well rounded guy! This could all still be some misunderstanding! Maybe they nabbed the wrong guy?

He knew he shouldn't have taken that side gig but money was tight this month. It was just a simple shot, nothing too crazy! He was already in Atlanta so what did he have to lose except so much to gain?

He felt something sharp drag over his bare arm and panicked when it pierced the skin there. A simple graze, although deep enough to draw blood.

Whoever kidnapped him meant business. It was in his best interest to start talking.

"Ow! Alright, alright I-I was hired man!" The unknown voice asked by whom and Ivan scrambled to remember.

"Uh it was uh. S-Some anonymous tip! It wasn't through my normal means of intel but it said Y/n L/n would be flying out to Euphoria. They wanted a scandalous shot of her or something equivalent. I was already in the area so I acted on it! S-She's a high price celeb since she's so sheltered. One pic of her can go for like, thousands if it's good! E-Easy money!"

Joker's lip curled in a snarl. Was that all you were to these people? A dollar sign? Was he the only one that cared about your well being?

"You think my Light is just some quick buck?"

Ivan cringed further back into his chair at the declaration. Great, now he had an angry bf to deal with. "Okay.. l-listen buddy.. I didn't know she was your girl.."

Joker ripped the bag off from Ivan's head. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the room's dim light, but once he recovered and saw who was in front of him, he knew he was a dead man.

"The Joker! S__t, okay.. okay! I–I'm sorry alright! I can't r-retract the spread, but we can make a deal right? Right?"

He was stumbling over his words so badly that Joker hardly understood the useless plea. He was busy thinking of ways he wanted to end this pathetic life to listen fully.

He still needed a name though.

"Fine. I li-ke deals. Who gave you the tip?" Joker asked.

The blade in his hand twinkled in the light as he locked eyes with his prey with an unreadable look. His reputation alone explained what was going to happen here if Ivan didn't respond. It motivated him to babble out nonsense.

"I.. ah.. uh some third party! I told you, I dunno! It was mad sketchy bro, but I took the risk!"

"Hmm. Well uh eye-van? Was it worth the risk?" Without warning, Joker jammed the knife into Ivan's thigh and just like he expected, this guy was a screamer.

Good thing the walls here were thick. It had been a while since Joker heard the sweet sound of sheer terror. It washed over him like a fond memory, yet he itched for more. Joker cracked his neck and waited for the screams to die down.

"Oh Ivan. Ivan, Ivan, Ivan, look at me! Hi.. you think thaT was bad. No. No. WaiT, till I take it out. Yeah? So! Who? Gave. You. The. Tip?" Right at the last word, Joker yanked the knife out.

Outside the room, Mac and another goon were placing bets on how long it would take to get results. All that was heard was muffled screams and Joker's maniacal laughter. It was good to hear the boss happy again.

"I dunno.. Boss is in a good mood today n' you know how he gets with a screamer. Maybe an hour?"

Mac nodded sagely. "Good point. Fifty says he'll drag it out."

In total, it only took twenty eight minutes.

Joker knocked on the door twice and emerged composed and cordial to the two goons stationed out front.

One of them offered him a towel to wipe his hands with and they were wise enough not to comment on the gory mess Joker left inside.

They could see it from here.

"If ya don'T mind.. Uh cleaning up my errr.. yeah." Joker vaguely pointed over his shoulder. He didn't stick around to hear them agree.

He got the name he wanted but unfortunately, it wasn't one that he knew. More digging around which meant this would take a lot longer than he had anticipated.

Joker was slightly limping down the hall when his coat pocket chimed. His leg was giving him problems again. He sighed and leaned his bodyweight on the wall and fished out the pesky device. Sure enough, one voicemail was left on his burner phone. Frost knew better than to make such a rookie mistake so that meant...

You.

Joker had the phone up to his ear in record time. Your sweet, melodic voice instantly calmed his nerves. That is until he actually listened to what you had to say. The two of you really had terrible luck.

One of your friends must've been staying over and you were so bent out of shape thinking he would be upset. He was, but it was so refreshing to hear you say please, that Joker didn't catch your last sentence for what it (almost) was.

This break would actually work out in his favor. He still needed more time to hunt down this thorn in his side and finally get to the bottom of his security leak. There was still a rat scurrying around that he needed to catch.

Thursday would give him plenty of time to do just that without being distracted— worrying about you.

Joker knew you wouldn't leave the apartment after being away for so long and your family dinner thingy would assure that you stayed in one place and not land into any trouble. Joker still had security cameras installed in your apartment if he really wanted to check in with you.

He couldn't help to be a little curious about your folks.

Now that he thought about it, you never mentioned them before. He wondered what your relationship with them was like and how they treated you in kind. Maybe he would tune in and check in on things..

Four days apart after such a wonderful weekend with you would be utter torture but Joker nodded to himself with conviction. He could(n't) do this. But he had to.

He also had to destroy this burner phone since you left a voice message on it so— he didn't see the harm in sending you a text before dumping it.

That was the only explanation he had for taking a risk, not just to soothe his separation anxiety, but yours as well.

OK see u Thurs my Light 🃏

You were shocked to see your phone light up with an unknown number messaging you.

Then you saw the playing card and instantly knew who it was. You weren't expecting a response from J. The fact that he did, felt like you were finally going down that rollercoaster at full speed.

Never mind the fact that he sent it an hour after your call or that his message was cut and dry. Despite how busy Joker was, he took the time out to text you back. That's what mattered.

He listened to your voicemail! (and hopefully didn't catch your word fumble at the end.) You didn't care that you were in front of Dick when you smiled wide.

"Oooooh. Someone's in love."

And cue the record scratch. You watched Dick descend the ladder to face you. He set the duster down and crossed his arms at your high pitch reply.

You immediately denied it. "N-No no I'm not! You don't know what you're um talking about!"

"Y/n. You can't see your face right now but you're glowing and not that, I just finished writing a novel, glow. Whoever this guy is, he's got you down bad."

"I am not down bad..." You echoed.

Dick fixed you with a, "why is you lying" look. You huffed and scurried over to your floor length mirror to see for yourself.

You looked the same in your opinion. After talking on the balcony with Dick, you changed into some old cleaning clothes and tied your hair up and out of the way. A few curls peeked out from under your bandana to frame your face, leaving you with a messy, but natural, look.

Your skin did look aglow and fresh but that could very well be from your stress free weekend with J. Other than that..

Dick came up behind you and rested his hands on your shoulders. "Ya see it? You look in love."

You were still unsure yet the longer you stared, that unknown but familiar, feeling bubbled up to the surface. All the feelings that you kept bottled up since the beginning, festered front and center before reaching a tipping point.

You weren't supposed to let Joker in. He wasn't supposed to have a chance with your heart. But he found a way in, no matter how many walls you erected to keep him out. Joker still managed to tear down each one to get to you.

And today, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and let the last wall crumble down.

"You're right. I.. I'm in love." You whispered to your reflection. The smile that stared back confirmed it.

It was the only thought on your mind for three days straight. In the meantime..

You finally got around to cleaning your apartment– from the vaulted ceilings down to the decorative rugs. Every nook and cranny in between had been cleaned.

The balcony doors were left open to circulate fresh air into the place to expel all of the strong chemicals you mixed to clean while Dick kept his promise and helped when something was out of your reach or too heavy to lift.

He became concerned when you opted out on wearing a mask to mix Pine-Sol and Comet together.

"Are you trying to kill us?!" He coughed and gagged when you added bleach and Ajax into the strong concoction. Was it supposed to sizzle like that?!

"I'm tryna kill the germs, yeah." Men were such lightweights. You'd been mixing chemicals to clean since you were a kid.

He's lucky you didn't bust out the Fabuloso.

As the fumes died down, you made an extensive grocery list and glared at Dick for depleting your fridge and cupboards in such a short amount of time.

Did he not eat at home? You knew he stayed at Wayne manor periodically and Alfred was a beast in the kitchen, so there was no excuse there.

You didn't know his living situation back home in Blüdhaven but still. Why did he raid your fridge every time he came over?

He laughed it off and mentioned he would foot the bill plus the delivery cost since it would be too much for the both of you to haul back on your own. He went ahead and included the necessary things for the scheduled dinner party and you cringed at the total.

He didn't bat an eyelash at the number and swiped his black credit card. Dick Grayson got moneeeeeeey!

Mind you, you did too, but old money tends to hit a lot more differently.

With the penthouse clean enough to meet your high standards and everything prepared for Thursday, you and Dick spent the remainder of the week catching up and lounging around.

Dick preoccupied his time by watching a popular tv series. You bid yours toiling in front of your laptop. The sound of your fingers flying over the keys floated throughout the penthouse and it was just like old times.

There was a sense of calmness that you hadn't felt in quite some time. You almost forgot that you were deeply involved with Gotham's City's most wanted criminal. Almost.

A startling reminder of your predicament flashed on the tv screen late Wednesday night. You were working on your wip on the floor while Dick relaxed on the couch after dinner.

You recognized GCN's nightly female reporter's voice as she drowned on about some political news before getting to the segment headliner.

"Now onto developing news. Sightings of the notorious Joker shook the Roanoke Mall early this afternoon. Local shoppers were terrified to discover the clown was among them, not as a terrorist, but as a consumer. Our correspondent Emily Vega reports. Emily."

The coverage panned from the studio to a blonde who was standing next to an eyewitness.

Emily nodded for a full minute before giving a delayed greeting. She then recapped the situation before handing the mic over to the witness.

GCN flashed their name and title on a banner yet you paid no attention.

"It was crazy! One minute everything was fine, the next The Joker and a few of his crew came strolling in, lookin' around! I thought they were gonna rob the place but get this! He just walked up to the counter and asked for one of my coworkers. I was scared because you don't just talk to The Joker without you know." They made a throat cutting gesture before continuing.

"Yeah, him and Rick just talked in the corner and right when I thought, yeah we're gonna die, keep in mind Rick ain't the best talker; The Joker bought somethin'! Paid in cash, asked for gift wrapping, and everything! You know when I stop and think bout it.. he's actually a nice guy..."

Emily jerked the microphone back and quickly ended the segment. "Reporting live from Jacob and Co. back to the studio."

The time on the clock tower behind her put the initial interview around midday.

Apparently this happened earlier and GCN was resharing the information, you surmised.

"Very scary. Thank you Emily. Management at Jacob and Co. known for their pricey custom jewelry, refused to comment on what exactly was discussed and purchased by The Joker, but the GCPD has since taken over the investigation with hopes of his recapture being imminent. As of today, The Joker remains at large for three long months. When more information arises, count on GCN to report it to you live. Now onto the recent missing persons report of a controversial photographer Ivan...."

You jumped when Dick spoke up.

"A nice guy? Are they even talking about the same Joker? Him and nice in the same sentence? He probably threatened the employees to keep quiet. Geez, when will the people of Gotham learn that The Joker is extremely dangerous?" Dick preached from your couch.

You enjoyed when Dick got passionate about things and ranted but this anger felt personal somehow..

You trailed your eyes away from him and back to the tv screen.

The reporter was going on about the missing paparazzi but your mind was elsewhere. Dick looked at you when you hummed aloud. "Huh. I wonder what he bought."

You locked eyes with Dick who looked anything but amused by your random thought. "What?" You asked.

"That's what you're thinking about Y/n? Not the fact a wanted man walked into a jewelry store and walked out without the authorities being called, but about what he purchased?No one sees the problem here! On that note, I'm going to bed and you should too. We got a big day tomorrow."

Dick turned off the tv and stepped over you to head to bed.

You were left stunned in the dark after his outburst but still thinking about what J bought.

Jacob and Co. was rather pricey and it just so happened to be the same jeweler you bought most of your favorite pieces from.

What was Joker up to?

"I'll know soon enough I guess." You mumbled to yourself. Dick did have a point though.

Tomorrow was a big day and you needed all of the rest you could get. Joker looked alright on tv so that put your mind at ease to start your nightly routine for bed.

Finally it was Thursday.

You really didn't want to entertain guests today but the sooner you did, the faster you could send everyone home and call for Joker to return.

You were missing him more and more by the day.

It was the mantra that motivated you to wake up and get ready. Dick stated all you had to do was look pretty and open the door, so you followed his instructions.

Once you washed up, you donned a simple but stylish denim jumpsuit. You didn't bother with shoes and let your freshly painted toes add a pop of color to your ensemble.

You also choose to wear your hair down for a change and tucked the excess back behind your ears.

When you opened your bedroom door, an explosion of smells hit your nostrils. Dick was already in the kitchen with his Kiss the Cook apron on (it looked better on Joker) over a pair of shorts and a simple tee.

Dick's natural looks could make anything look high end. He noticed you hesitating in the archway and beckoned you over with a loud greeting.

"Good morning Y/n/n!! I'm just chopping up some veggies and finishing up the marinade for the meat. Wanna help?"

You shrugged and walked over. It was then you saw the unorganized chaos Dick was orchestrating.

"Chile, what's on the menu?" You chuckled.

"I'm glad you asked! Your dad and I are bbq three types of meat, the slaw is in the fridge; ready to mix. Beans are prepped for the oven. Mom is bringing the greens since I couldn't find collards in this wretched city to save my life... We'll have pasta and potato salad as vegan options for her. I do need you to make cornbread and the Mac and cheese however." He grinned at you.

Your eyes bugged at the menu presented. Good thing you went ahead and decorated the table against Dick's instructions. Nothing serious he said.. this was a banquet!

But then you replayed his speech and stopped short.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to do anything but look cute and open the door, Grayson?" You crossed your arms with a playful grin.

He noticed it and groaned. Of course you caught his quickly spoken request.

"C'mon.. Y/n! You make the best Mac and cheese I've ever tasted and I.. always overcook the cornbread." He looked away, dejected.

You snorted and got out the necessary ingredients before tossing your insult over your shoulder. "That's because you ain't got no ancestors to tell you how to season."

You laughed at his butthurt face.

"Funny. Real funny." He griped.

The two of you quickly found a rhythm in the spacious kitchen to finish preparing everything before the guests arrived. Time got away from you both but around noon, there was a knock on the door.

Dick was elbows deep in potatoes so you quickly wiped your hands clean and made for the front. "Coming!"

You opened the door to Barbara and Morgana's wide smiles.

"Did someone order your favorite dessert?" Barbara sang while pointing to the big travel container in her lap. You squealed and let them in. "You baked?!"

"I sure did! I made all your favorites and Dick asked for a pie. Weirdo." She let Morgana push her in so she could keep a good grip on the sweets.

You eyed Morgana empty hands and arched an eyebrow. "Uhhh what did you bring?"

"Myself, thank you." She jokingly quipped.

You held back a laugh. There was always that one person at the cookout who came empty handed. You never guessed it would be her.

Though not surprising, Morgana busted out bottles of alcohol from thin air and started mixing a fruity sangria and a separate nonalcoholic lemonade batch for the party. You just shook your head at your friend. Where she kept magically procuring alcohol from, you'll never figure out.

You left the two girls to their mixing to help Dick back inside the kitchen.

More time passed and the penthouse was abuzz with more delicious aromas and laughter. You barely heard the doorbell since Barbara tapped into your speakers and started a playlist for everyone.

Luckily Morgana heard it and moseyed over to answer it. She opened the door, drink in hand, but quickly dropped everything to help the esteemed guests inside.

"Grayson! Those ribs better be on the grill!"

You and Dick froze after hearing the loud, but familiar, bellowing voice.

He dropped a mixing spoon on the floor and locked eyes with you. After that, it was a race to see who could hug them first.

Naturally he beat you to the living room simply because you stopped about halfway at the sight.

You hadn't seen your parents for an entire year and my, how nothing changed.

Your dad was still tall and imposing with his split eyebrow and sharp features. He had a protective arm wrapped around your mother who literally seemed to be invincible to age. The only factor to hint at it was the tasteful streaks of grey in her luscious hair. And quite frankly, it could pass as a money piece hair dye.

Other than that, the two of you could be twins.

Time seemed to stop when two pairs of e/c locked paths. The bushel of greens in her hands were passed off to her husband the moment she saw your eyes water.

"Mama..."

Everyone in the room watched the long awaited reunion. You didn't care how old you were; you hadn't seen your mother in a year. So much happened since then that your emotions simply got the better of you.

You moved out for the first time to a completely different city. You were held at gun and knifepoint, almost killed at your charity, rescued from said event and then abducted from your home by a schizophrenic, former district attorney. You've been through so much without your mother's shoulder to lean on.

Everything just came pouring out. You weren't making a lick of sense, but she just hugged you closer and petted your hair.

"My baby! What did this mean ol' city do to you? Dry your tears, love. Oh don't you look so beautiful, doesn't she honey?" She twisted a bit so your father could join the hug.

He too was a little misty eyed but real men didn't shed tears. Okay, maybe one or two.

"Yeah she does! Both of my girls are." He kissed both your forehead and his wife's before smiling down at his armful.

The family was back together.

"C-Can I join the family hug please?" The three of you looked over at Dick who was bashfully waiting his turn.

Morgana and Barbara both called him an idiot but much to their surprise, he was snatched up by your father and inducted into the hug. Apparently he was part of the family after all. Who would've thought?

Your mother let you go with a wet chuckle and started to dote on Grayson.

"And look at you! Ack! You look so pale! Have you been getting your necessary nutrients? What about you Y/n? You both look so skinny! Lemme go put these greens on so y'all can eat. C'mon on Y/n! We can catch up while we pick 'em!"

You wiped your face dry. "Yes ma'am."

You weren't that skinny right? You shared a look with Dick who— mind you, was all muscle, and fit as can be. He rolled his eyes not believing it either.

You look fine, he mouthed to you before your dad slapped him loudly on the back. It sounded like a clap of thunder. Dick hardly budged at the impact.

"I'm serious boy. If them ribs ain't on the grill by now, you done screwed up." Your dad bellowed.

They shared a laugh as they made their way to the balcony where the grill was indeed steady cooking the various meat for the feast. That left the girls to gather in the kitchen, sharing laughs and jokes about your year so far living in the city.

Your mom was placing a lid on a boiling pot when Barbara continued the recap. "We finally got her to go out clubbing with us!"

Morgana quickly swallowed her drink and added, "Yeah Mrs. Y/L/N, we were flown out to ATL and had a blast!"

"Really? My Y/n at a club? I'd pay money to see that." Your mom joked. You flushed red and whined, "Ma.."

"Don't Ma me. I'm so used to you indoors with a book in hand. Or better yet, writing one. I'm still waiting for a tour of the place. Your royalties but be something else to afford the top floor."

You jumped to attention and did just that.

Even though Barbara had been over numerous times, she came along as well as Morgana. Being the new friend of the circle, Morgana didn't have the opportunity to venture past your living room and was excited to see the rest of the place in its entirety.

"Four bedrooms, one of them is empty at the moment. Two and a half baths. A massive storage room, my own laundry room, two private balconies and have you seen this view?" You led everyone past your sunroom and out to the balcony where Dad and Dick were glazing the ribs with bbq sauce.

Your mother gasped in awe after you mentioned the view.

She could see Dini Highway from here, it was incredible. Yet the verdict was still out. "Are you happy here?"

You were stealing a taste of the sauce while your dad wasn't looking but heard the question. "Uh.. yeah! I love it here, Mom. I tell you and dad that all the time when I call."

"Then why didn't you show us your room?"

Morgana choked on her drink. Barbara and Dick pointedly looked away and your Dad noticed all of this and addressed the elephant in the room.. or correction; balcony.

"Y/n. You're not isolating yourself again are you? We talked about this... It ain't healthy." He sighed.

Your mother, being a doctor, nodded in agreement alongside him.

You were on your own since your friends weren't entering this fight but thankfully the doorbell ringing saved you. You dodged that awkward bullet. Saved by the bell.

You padded back inside to the foyer and opened the front door, although you quickly wished that you hadn't.

"Ayyyyyy!! Sorry we late! We bought Tequila!" Florence cried out before giving you a hug. She bounced you around in a circle yet your attention was on her plus one standing behind her.

Neo held up the two decorative tequila bottles and winked. Lovely. Florence and booze. What could possibly go wrong?

By the time Florence and her date arrived, the food was ready.

You called everyone over to your dinner table where the vast spread spanned the massive table. Dick brought over the steaming cuts of meat and set them center stage around the other side dishes and fixings to eat.

"This is a lot of food.." Barbara awed.

"Yes indeed! We can thank Grayson for buying and cooking it all but most importantly, let's thank Him. May we bow?"

The table nodded and began to bow their heads. As you were closing your eyes, you spotted Neo rolling his.

Rude, but what could you say? You weren't about to force your family's religion on anyone. It was optional.

Your mom ended Grace beautifully and prompted everyone to dig in. Her and Dick really worked hard to get everything on the table and you could hear multiple stomachs growling; everything looked so good.

The sound of fine china rattling and polite chatter filled the air.

"Mr. Y/L/N, Y/n told me that you don't drink so I made a nonalcoholic version for you." Morgana said while pouring your dad a glass.

She was making her way around the table, filling up everyone's glasses with their selected drink before taking a seat next to you.

"Heh, thanks. Twelve years and I don't wanna get yelled at by my girls." As soon as he said that, you and your mom stared him down like a hawk.

"My point exactly." He laughed while taking a sip. "Mmph, that's good! Might steal that recipe from you Morgana!"

"See Y/n. My non-alcoholic drinks are just as good as the original." She raised her glass to your father at the head of the table, opposite of you.

Your mom was seated to his left and sipped his choice just to make sure. Not bad at all.

She remembered you saying on a call that Morgana and Florence were the heavy drinkers of the group. Not that she didn't trust them, but the virgin drinks looked the same as the alcohol infused one that Florence was tipping back.

Florence looked over at your mom who was seated to her right and smiled. Dick was serving Neo a portion of bbq at the end of the table, on your right.

Dick didn't know the guy but he came with Florence so he couldn't say much. He honestly just seated him next to you since it was the only empty seat left.

Once Dick sat down in his own seat, (on your dad's right and Barbara's left) he whispered in her ear asking who Neo was.

"Florence's client/boyfriend. He's the one that flew us out to Atlanta." Barbara whispered back.

Dick nodded briefly and sized the guy up.

His experience as Nightwing told him this man was bad news. But you seemed to be at ease around him if the pointed glares you sent his way were any indication. You were a good judge of character so Dick wasn't that worried.

Everyone was eating and tossing stories back and forth over dinner when the doorbell rang again.

You frowned and sat your fork down, looking down the table at Dick. "....You expecting anyone else? You only said eight plate settings."

He was already asking Barbara and Morgana to slide down to make room. Not like they needed to move, since your table was already long enough and technically could seat twelve— but you were curious as to who else he invited.

"Aren't you going to answer the door sweetheart?" Your mother scolded you.

She taught you manners so you scooted your chair back to go answer the door. You didn't check the peephole before swinging the door open.

You blinked a mile a minute when Bruce Wayne stood in your small hallway holding a black bag. "Bruce?"

"Good evening. I apologize for being late. Work held me longer than I was expecting. May I come in?" He was dressed casually in a dark shirt and slacks and dang it, he looked good.

"Uhhhh.. I guess?" You stepped aside to let him come in as you mentally berated yourself for thinking about Bruce in such a way.

That chapter is closed Y/n. You have Joker now. Why are you even looking at Bruce like that? He's easy on the eyes, but girl! J is built different out here! He all types of daddy.

You nodded to yourself and closed the front door. When you returned to the dining room, everyone had greeted Bruce (except Neo of course) with open arms.

"Y/n!! You didn't tell me you knew Bruce Wayne!!" Your mother was over the moon at the possibilities.

You fixed her with a deadpan glare and gestured to Dick. "Mom. Dick Grayson is right there, whatchu mean?"

"She has a point, babe." You dad came to your defense. The two men were a packaged deal.

Dick waved at his guardian when he sat down at your left. Of course Dick updated the seating so this could happen. Sneaky little..

"This food looks amazing! Once again I apologize for arriving so late." The businessman mused as your mother personally fixed him a plate.

You joined Neo in giving Wayne an annoyed glare. Florence noticed the two of you shared reactions far too similar for it to be a coincidence.

Bruce asked for a little of everything and leaned over to ask you a question. "Is that your mother or your sister, Y/n?"

Your mom laughed and gave him a generous serving of potato salad after overhearing his genuine query.

"Y/n! Is he always this gregarious?" She swatted his broad shoulders as she made it back to her seat.

Everyone was off in their own sidebar conversations but you still attempted to reply to your mother from across the table. "Uh, sure I guess. I-I mean, I wouldn't know.."

"You don't know? Dick told us you stayed with Wayne for two weeks." Your dad said at the head of the table.

Your mom agreed with him and added, "..and you said you enjoyed this past weekend away out of town. I thought it was with Bruce."

Neo snickered into his glass and thus stole the table's attention. He had been quiet for the duration of dinner but he couldn't contain his comment any longer. "Oh she enjoyed her weekend alright. Not with him tho."

The entire table went dead silent.

You weren't the only one staring at the club owner in shock. Was he being serious right now? You kicked him under the table but he didn't seem phased.

Florence was also quiet, reading into things more than she should've, and grew way too curious over time. She had to know about this weird chemistry between you and Neo.

"How would you know? You told me you had business to attend to over the weekend." Her nails tapped erratically against her glass, making Barbara and Morgana tense.

Neo scoffed. "I did. Someone had to keep Princess safe."

Your mother choked on her lemonade and Bruce narrowed his eyes at this shady guy. He didn't like how he used a pet name so casually with you.

Your jaw dropped and stared at Neo as if he grew a second head. He hadn't used that nickname for you in ages.

Florence eyed Neo briefly and laughed at your bewildered face. "Oh.. okay! Okay. I see what's good. So y'all f__king, huh?"

"Oh s__t." Barbara smacked Dick's arm for interrupting but returned to watch the drama unfolding. That didn't stop his mouth from running. "Wait.. is this Neo guy your Prince Charming, Y/n/n?"

"What?! No!" You denied.

"D__n right. I ain't no prince." He replied over a forkful of beans.

You glared at him. "You aren't helping." He just shrugged and returned your kick under the table, although a lot harder. You blinked back the pain.

"Wooooooow. And here I thought we were friends, Y/n. Going behind my back? After you encouraged me to get with him at his club." Florence chuckled once, it was filled with pent up frustration.

She was getting heated and the alcohol wasn't helping things. "This some real snake behavior." She added.

"Sweetheart, is this true?" Your mother asked gently.

Finally someone was doubting things here! You grabbed onto her lifeline and didn't let go. "No, Mom! Neo and I aren't even like that...." You gestured wildly between you and him.

Why did Dick seat him at your right hand side?! This looked worse than it was.

"Then what the f__k are you two then? Cuz to me, y'all way too close with y'all knowing glares, him calling you Princess and s__t. Why is he protecting you'over the weekend' and why you just sitting there acting all hush hush and shady b__h?"

Your father coughed into his fist. He swore like a sailor but this conversation was getting a little rowdy even for his standards.

A few seats down, Morgana was still eating, watching everything unfold like it was a tv drama. Traitor..

"What you gotta say in all this?" Florence fired at her date, "Ion like how you sitting there looking all smug."

Neo pointed to himself and laughed. "Ohhh, you want me to speak now?" He asked.

"Yeah! Yeah I do. So speak!" Flo fired back.

He nodded and caught your eye. "You want me to tell them the truth, Y/n?"

All eyes turned to you. You were choking on air, unable to breathe. This was not happening. "Y-You... We can't.. Neo.. don't." You gripped the table till your knuckles turned white.

"Okay, I think Y/n needs some fresh air right now." Barbara began. Florence shot down that suggestion real quick.

"Nah she don't need s__t except a good explanation or her feelings won't be the only thing hurtin. I suggest you start talking hoe."

"Watch it now, Flo." Your dad warned.

He didn't like where this conversation was going but he'd do his best to keep the peace and get to the bottom of things, civilly.

The Haitian scooted back from the table to take a breath. She started counting under the breath. No one was ready for when she reached ten.

"Y/n.. seriously this is getting weird.. are you and Neo.. you know.." Barbara hesitated.

"NO! I don't even like the guy! Not after the crap he pulled at Luigi's.."

He tossed his head back with a groan. "Bruhh. That's in the past Y/L. Can we please move on from dat?"

"Lugi's pizza? Y/n. Did this happen the same time we went on a date? Now that you mention it.. You came back from that bathroom break quite distraught." Bruce quickly rounded on Neo. "What did you do to Y/n?"

"None of your business, Wanye." Neo bit back just as fiercely.

"Not you pulling two pulling two hotties at the same time Y/n. You is devious!" Morgana cackled. Dick waved her off and she eyed him until he spoke.

"That'll be an incorrect calculation my dear, Morgana. It's actually three judging by the clothing size I found in her guest bedroom."

You buried your head in your hands. Whhhhhhyyyyyy did Dick have to open his mouth?

"OH! SO YOU BEEN SLEEPING HERE TOO?!" Florence shouted at her now ex.

Neo looked distraught when she stood up from her seat and stormed towards your guest rooms.

You had to think for a second before getting up too. Joker's clothes were still in there. Why didn't you move his stuff into your room earlier?!

"Flo, wait!!" You ran after her. Bruce wanted to see this for himself and followed behind you.

Your father tossed his napkin on the table as he shook his head at his wife.

"I didn't raise no hoe, (your mother's name.)" She winced but laughed to lighten up the mood. "Hmm, that is true but you married one."

Morgana snorted when Dick gagged. "You're acting like they're your parents.

"They are." He was still cringing when a series of shouts came from the back. Everyone still seated at the table waited for anything since they couldn't hear what was being said.

Florence stormed back into the dining room to thrust a dress shirt into Neo's face. He was a pillar of stone. His visage never wavered at the evidence literally being thrown in his face.

"Why did I find the shirt I bought you in her closet?!"

You finally caught up with Florence in the dining room, who staring at her date venomously.

Bruce stood behind you, silently demanding answers as well, but for his own selfish reasons. He saw some things in your guest bedroom that made him question who this lover of yours truly was..

"A black dress shirt Flo? That's rather vague to use as evidence." Barbara sighed. "Every guy owns like a dozen of them."

"Aht. Try again. You got me messed up if I don't remember my purchases. This Armani baby and Giorgio ain't cheap. Is this the dress suit I bought you a few months back?" She asked her stoic date.

Everyone looked at Neo who was mid sip of his drink. He glanced at the label before looking up into your pleading eyes behind Florence. "Yeah it's mine."

He didn't comment that she bought the wrong size. She was already fired hot, including that fact would be more insult to injury.

You didn't understand why Neo was lying. Joker only wore his custom purple suits and the casual clothes that he bought.

You knew he had an array of disguises at his disposal and that black suit was the same one he wore to Euphoria. You had no clue it was actually Neo's, given to his boss last minute to blend in with the employees at the club.

It suited Joker better than Neo if you were the judge of things but now was not the time.

Unfortunately, Neo being the owner was the truth and that did not help your case right now. Your silence, the newfound evidence.. It all pointed at you and Neo having an affair behind Florence's back.

And you refused to lose one of your friends all because of a misunderstanding.

For starters, it was hard for you to make friends and you and Flo were childhood friends at that. The two of you argued over the years and had some fights, but nothing like this. It was never over a guy.

She was the popular cheerleader in highschool. You were the quiet girl from the poetry club; two different circles that would never share the same love interests.

Morgana's gasp and Barbara's look of distrust was breaking your heart.

You broke the girl code and by default, they were taking Florence's side. These were your only friends in life.

Was Joker worth this heartbreak? How could you fix this complete misunderstanding while also keeping Joker a secret?

You felt Bruce's hands settle on your shoulders and the weight of it didn't feel comforting. Everyone in this room was against you. How could he be any different?

It was the worst feeling ever being all alone against the odds. You had the instinctual urge to run.

Bruce didn't give you the chance. "Y/n. It might not be appropriate to ask, but is he the reason why you broke things off with me?"

Everyone jumped when your mom groaned in pain. "Babe, are you okay?!" Your dad asked. Now was not the time for medical emergencies!!

Your mom clutched her chest in agony. "No, I am not OK! Our baby fumbled the bag with The Bruce Wayne for this common street thug? Where did we go wrong?" She sobbed.

"D__n, I'm right here." Neo grumbled. He overlooked how everyone here assumed he was a thug. They weren't wrong.. but dang.

Dick came to his adoptive mother's aid. You should've known anything else from his mouth tonight would be unhelpful. Dick lived for drama.

"Exactly ma! I can see why you don't wanna date the old man, Y/n, but I'm not convinced this guy here is your lover boy. He doesn't look anything like Prince Charming from the gossip magazine!" Dick said.

You wanted to choke him right then and there. Then, you wanted the floor to swallow you up. The entire room was confused until your mother spoke up. "What gossip magazine?"

"Dick, please.." You pleaded in vain.

Nothing would stop him when he was the center of attention. He grinned wide and rushed into the kitchen to grab that long forgotten magazine and held it up for your parents to see.

"This one! Our dear Y/n had quite the weekend with her Prince Charming."

Your father snatched the mag from Grayson and read it over. His eyes widened before he passed it around the table.

One after another your friends and family read about your privacy being violated, printed for the whole world to see, before the magazine landed in Florence's hands.

She took the longest to read the article and for good reason.

"He looks familiar..." She mumbled.

You and Neo paled at the same time.

Florence was drunk that Thursday night at Euphoria but she got a good look at Joker even with his disguise in place. The VIP floor was dark but not dark enough to conceal noticeable scars like Joker's. Your panic attack was back and raging harder than before.

"How... how long have you two been together, Y/n?" She asked you. When you didn't answer, she continued. "Why did I even ask? It doesn't matter. Y'all two were on some secret bull___t that night at the club. I knew I recognized him from somewhere!"

She didn't say who the him in her sentence was but it was practically obvious. Your greatest fear was being realized.

Neo must've come to the same realization because his entire demeanor changed. Flo quickly crossed the room to get into your personal space. "How long Y/n?!"

Florence was in full rage mode, pointing her coffin acrylics in your face, well on the verge of hysterics.

Your audience wasn't too far behind given the sudden change in the air. Florence wasn't messing around anymore. It was utter chaos in your dining room. Your father was scolding Dick for starting all of this, whereas your mother, Barbara, and Morgana were screaming at Florence to chill.

Much to your shock, Bruce was a silent brick wall behind you. He didn't offer you protection or a means to escape. You were rooted in place by his strong hands on your shoulders.

Neo saw your distress and braved the fray to try and to tone Florence down but she smacked his hands away and whirled on him instead. "I don't wanna hear s__t from you!"

"Flo baby—" He tried again until Florence dismissed him with a flip of her middle finger.

"F__k you! I'll deal with you later! Right now, Y/n gotta own up to her s__t! It's the least she can do!"

He didn't let Flo get far and grabbed her before she could whirl back on you.

"Get the f__k off me Neo! I know! And how could you let her!! Of all people, why him, Y/n? Have you lost your mind?!"

"Florence.. please just calm down, and let me explain.." You pleaded. That seemed to ignite her anger more.

Nothing was making sense. She couldn't seem to understand why you were so calm about all of this. Maybe she guessed wrong? No! She knew who she saw....

She broke free from Neo's hold and snarled right in your face. "Both of you are insane. You two deserve each other."

With that said, she grabbed her purse from the foyer closet and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

You were left with chills running down your spine. Florence knew. She had to. Both of you are insane.

Her harsh words echoed in your ear. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows.She knows.She knows.She knows.She knows.

Neo was on the same wavelength since a dark shadow crossed his features before he took off after her.

You couldn't think straight amidst all of the chaos. Your own thoughts and fears were drowning out the mayhem that was in your dining room.

Everyone was talking over one another but to you, it all sounded like you were underwater. Those two words were on repeat in your head.

Florence knows. She knows about Joker.

And if the night wasn't theatrical enough, you fainted right into Bruce's awaiting arms.

#ledger joker x reader #ledger joker #black!fem!reader #heath joker #dark knight joker #joker x y/n #joker x reader #reader insert #heath ledger #yandere #Long Reads #a03 writer #romance #angst #cross posted on AO3 #cross posted on wattpad #his lighthouse #Spotify

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