#Heath joker x reader

[j0kers-light]

Chaos, I beg you, for my mental health, you NEED to write something about J with a suit like this

https://www.tumblr.com/dollshobby/756250101826142208?source=share

It's not a whim, it's a necessity

His Lighthouse: Friendly Fire (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Friendly Fire - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER UPDATE!

Hey hi my beloved anon!!! I heard your cries, albeit was several months too late. Your patience is impeccable because JULY? 😫😫 ma’am. You can sue me at this point.

Anyhoo...

I NEEDED TO WRITE THIS or risk being haunted for the rest of my days *activates my inner slut* Here's the action figure in question. I would fall to the floor with my legs spread open if J came home in this suit. Like, look at him. He’s a slut! How dare he put this on!? How do I take it off? 🤔 I indulged wayyy too much writing this. 🖤✨

Let me know if you wish to be added to the official His Lighthouse taglist! Be alerted with any oneshots and the main story updates!

The entire purpose of living on the top floor was the added layer of security it created. No one could suddenly pop in and disrupt your peace without you knowing about it beforehand.  

You kept the balcony doors locked this late at night and no one knew about the secret access point in your storage room. The only logical way into your apartment was through the front door. You didn’t want to jinx yourself; this was Gotham City after all.  

If a criminal wanted to scale the steep twelve stories up to your apartment, you couldn’t stop them per se. Perhaps just question if they were superhuman and look at them sideways.  

As it stood, you were relatively safe in your glass tower just the way you liked it. 

Joker left earlier in the day, gushing about some special shipment being delivered that he needed to sign off on, so you had the penthouse to yourself for a change. You didn’t mind whenever your lover was around, (there was never a dull moment with Joker), but nothing beat solitude.  

Solitude helped shape you into the woman you were today. You thrived in it. With your favorite snacks and drinks in hand, you snuggled up on the couch to catch up on some reality tv.  

And that’s how your day turned into night lasted.  

Halfway through the evening, you got up to fix dinner for yourself, and despite being alone, you instinctively made double servings. Old habits truly die hard it seemed. You sighed and put Joker’s portion up for him to eat whenever he came home.  

Who knows when that would be. 

The news didn’t report anything alarming to raise your anxiety levels nor did they give any hints to his whereabouts. It must’ve been a relatively quiet night of crime and you hoped that Joker didn’t cause too much chaos while he was out. He didn’t mention any big plans of his—not like he ever would.  

The less you knew, the better Joker always said. Sometimes you wished to knew something so you weren’t completely blind to his world.  

If he got arrested and sent back to Arkham, you’d be the last to know and that left a sour taste in your mouth. Your anxiety wouldn’t quell so you left the tv on the news channel should any breaking news segment regarding Joker come on.  

You were fighting back sleep when you spotted a shadow moving on your glass roof. You rubbed your eyes, thinking you were seeing things from being drowsy but no... you definitely saw a silhouette of a man crawling on your roof, headed towards your spacious balcony.  

You weren’t expecting Joker till sunrise, and no one had any business on your roof, so you automatically entered into survival mode.  

Every single last safety precaution Joker drilled into your brain kicked in—starting with some common sense.  

“Nope nope nopeity nope. I am not dying tonight.” you mumbled. You flung the couch blanket off of you to stand. “Not today, Satan.” 

You remembered where Joker hid the nearest weapon cache in the room and quickly pulled out a gun, double checking that it was loaded.  

You were glad that Joker was so paranoid about your safety and set up necessary countermeasures all over the penthouse. At first you were against all the clown themed booby traps concealed in your home but J ultimately won you over with a single glare. 

He did not play about his Bunny’s safety. The weapons stayed.  

Since he wasn’t home, you had to protect yourself until you were able to sound an alarm. Joker promised that he would rush back no matter how far to protect you, but you knew it would take him a while to get here, and that meant you were on your own.  

With an unknown stranger crawling on your roof. This information did little to calm your bundle of nerves.  

You could still see the figure spider crawling on the roof, getting closer and closer to landing on the balcony.  

A horrid sight for your quiet night home alone and right when you were thinking of starting a new season of your favorite show. Why did weird stuff always happen to you? The city you moved to...  

The soft glow from the tv was the only light in the apartment and you wanted to use that darkness to your advantage.  

This intruder (fingers crossed) didn’t know the layout of your home. Unfortunately, they were male and able to overpower you. That was all fine and dandy. The loaded gun in your hand would even the score on your behalf.  

You watched in trepidation as the shadow toppled over the glass sunroof, landing headfirst onto the balcony. It was not a soft landing if their audible curses floating in the air was any indication. A shame they didn’t knock themselves unconscious with the fall. That could’ve saved you a world of trouble.  

You watched from your hiding spot behind the couch as they picked (or did they use a key?) open both the outdoor balcony and the indoor sunroom’s sliding doors.  

Their footsteps were light as they walked through your living room with ease. Okay, maybe they did know your home’s layout. This wasn’t good. Was this a planned hit? 

Of all the nights Joker decided to step out, you have a home invasion. Why didn’t you grab your phone before you hid?!  

You held your breath, counting down for the right moment to open fire.  

You still had the element of surprise, especially when the intruder tripped up on your colorful ottoman—the same one that Joker always bumped into when coming home late… The similarities didn’t register in your panic induced brain. You just stood up and unloaded the clip.  

The sharp crackle of gunfire echoed off the vaulted ceilings yet you still heard that familiar sound over the din. It made you immediately stop firing and gasp, “J-Joker?!”  

Your annoying clown was doubled over laughing.  

Never mind the fact you shot him at point blank range, why he was laughing? You knew he was insane, but this was a new level of concern.  

You tossed the gun onto the couch and rushed over to check on J. “Oh my God, Joker! Are you alright?! I didn’t know it was you!!! Please don’t die!” 

He wasn’t helping in your search for his wounds. J was still rolling on the floor, laughing at something you currently didn’t have the patience to find amusing.  

Joker and his low tolerance for pain probably didn’t acknowledge the bullets. That didn’t ignore the fact you literally opened fire on him. That is, until your hands brushed over something metal where his formal suit and tie should have been. 

You jerked back and scrambled to flick on the nearest lamp.   

Joker was perfectly fine but you weren’t. Your brain flew south for the winter at the sight of Joker. 

He had no business looking so good in a mock Batsuit. Joker’s was green in color with purple splotched accents and what suspiciously looked like blood splatter. You seriously hoped it wasn’t. Either way, J’s sleeper build was encased in full armor with a shiny gold belt to finish off the look. He looked good enough to eat.  

You were biting your lip in horny silence when Joker finally lifted himself off the floor.  

He flicked his tattered cape behind his back and struck a pose. “Well, well doll! I uhh didn’t know you were a straight shot! I would have pre-ferrred a welcome home kiss, not.. ya know..” he gestured to the bullet holes you placed in his armor.  

A shame he just got this suit today and it was already ruined. But the way you were staring at him; his suit wouldn’t be the only thing ruined tonight. 

Joker stalked his way closer to you, “Whatcha thinkin’—” 

“Take it off.” you spoke over Joker.  

You huffed when he didn’t comply so you set about doing it yourself. He blinked in shock as you fumbled with his utility belt, acting like a kid tearing into a Christmas present.  

“Woah! Easy Bunny!” Joker blushed at your eager hands practically groping his cock. “Heh, slow down doll.” 

You didn’t. You whined the longer it took you to fail at removing his armor.  

When you broke a nail scratching at his chest plate, you caved. “Don’t just stand there, J! Take it off!” you shoved him, knowing that acting up would get his attention quicker.  

“Y/n? What’s gotten into ya?”  

“Preferably you if you would cooperate..” you snapped back. Oh. He knew that tone of yours all too well. 

“Ahhhhh. I see.” Joker chuckled and pressed a button to release the hinges that covered his crotch. You didn’t waste another second. You shoved a surprised Joker back onto the couch and sank to your knees in the same motion. 

Joker was speechless with the way you manhandled him although he didn’t say anything to see where you would take things. Your hands traced his hips, like a sculptor would their final work of art. You’d seen Joker way too many times to know there were no imperfections.  

How was he so perfect, like your own personal Michelangelo? 

“Look at this slutty little waist. How dare you walk around Gotham like a whore?!” You shook your head in disbelief until you eyed his dick standing at attention.  

Without warning, you took Joker’s cock into your hands and gave it a nice long lick, from the base to tip that you kissed gently.  

“F__k Bunny!” Joker shouted. You peppered kisses all over J’s dick and you were rewarded with a bead of precum spurting from his reddening tip. 

“Aww ya got a nice lit-le treat, why don’tcha...” 

You groaned, “shut up, J” right before you swallowed inch after inch of his dick.  

Your throat burned at the stretch, but it was oh so worth it. You didn’t stop until your nose bumped into his armor. Then you rested for a count of five before pulled up to take gulps of precious air and to lock eyes with J.  

He was breathing heavily too—and parting his lips to speak. You did not want that.  

You pushed his chest and started bobbing your head at a rapid pace. Very soon, the sound of you gagging and the obscene wet plops of your mouth around Joker’s dick was the only noise in the room, save for Joker’s groans drowning out the tv.  

GCN could be broadcasting the zombie apocalypse and neither of you would care.  

You felt amazing sucking him off. He needed this after the wild night he had. Coming home to his Bunny in this bizarre horny mood, it was the perfect nightcap.  

You were perfect and Joker whispered your name to try and let you know that, but you squeezed his shaft in warning and quickened your pace. He got the message. No talking. Just feel.  

He could do that especially when you took him balls deep and hummed so prettily. The vibrations went straight to his brain, unplugging all vital systems.  

You did need to breath so you regrettably pulled away, moaning like a slut. “I can’t believe you h-hid this from me.” you panted.  

“Heh, I knew ya act like—awww fuu.. M’sorry! I ngh, n-no talkin’.. I knooow but it’s so warm Bun!” 

You rolled your eyes. Joker just couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.  

You grabbed his gloved hands fisting your upholstery and moved them to tangle in your hair. That got his attention. “Huh? Ohhhhh I couldn’t. Messin’ up my pretty girl’s hair? She’d kill me for sureee.”  

He toyed with a wayward curl knowing deep down he loved wrecking your hair.  

Joker respected your tedious hair routine and the strict no-touching policy to maintain its upkeep, but during sex, he just couldn’t resist. He’d pay however much for you to fix it back, he really wanted to bury his fingers into your luscious strands and tug. 

You squeezed his hand. It was the green light for what he’d been dying to do. Joker grabbed a handful of your curls when you did that thing with your tongue he liked and his hips bucked up to chase after the feeling. You gagged at the unexpected thrust and it got J to thinking. 

Joker caught your teary eyes staring up at him as well as your subtle nod. He loved how you were always on the same wavelength as him.  

He groaned as he spread his legs wider. “Oh, thank ya Princess! Ahhh thank ya. Soooo. Very. Much!” He emphasized each word with thrust into your throat as his strong hands held your head still.  

Your poor curls were Joker’s handlebars as he throat f__ked you.  

A mixture of cum and spit dripped down your chin and landed on Joker’s armored thighs making the splatter painted surface shiny. You could always clean it up later.  

Right now, you relaxed and let Joker use your throat for his pleasure.  

It was sloppy and messy, just the way he liked it, although your pussy throbbed with neglect. She would just have to wait. You needed this and so did J.  

He was talking gibberish with his head thrown back on the couch. Ugh, he looked so fine even with his greasy hair hiding his handsome features. You saw his Adam’s Apple move as he choked back a moan. Almost as if he felt your gaze, intense jade pierced your soul.  

You were caught under his spell or was it the other way round?  

Whether your name was uttered as a prayer or more as a warning, it didn’t matter.  

Joker’s feral groan bounced off the walls as he filled your mouth with his thick load. He’d been backed up for days working on a big heist and now all of his stress was being emptied down your throat. You blinked back the ache in your jaw; your discomfort was irreverent. You would rest after Joker was satisfied.  

J hissed when his dick slipped out your mouth and he was quick to bark out a “Swallow.” 

You already had and was sticking your tongue out obediently for him to inspect.  

Joker hummed his approval as his thumb rubbed your sore jaw. “Goooo~ooood girl.” He knew you could take it all. You hadn’t failed him yet.  

You smiled and crawled your way up onto Joker’s lap.  

It was a bit uncomfortable with his suit still on but he cradled you like fine China in his arms. You always felt the safest in his hold. He rubbed your back while you traced the red ha ha ha painted on his chest.  

A local commercial aired on the tv as the intense moment idled back down to tranquil levels. It was Joker who broke the silence with his raspy voice.  

“Mind uhh, telling me what broughT that on?” he asked.  

You glanced up at Joker’s closed eyelids. You sucked the soul out of him and it was taking him longer than usual to float back down to Earth. Times like this when the moonlight poured in through the windows and hit him just right, it made you wonder.  

How did you get so lucky to have this man in your life? 

He cracked an eye open with a knowing gleam swirling in the green hue. Caught ya.  

It made your ears bloom red in embarrassment. You genuinely did not know what came over you just now. You saw Joker in an imposter Batman suit and became feral. There was no further explanation needed.  

Your mind completely forgot that you shot Joker multiple times in self defense, that’s how powerful the whore in you jumped out. Mo’Nique would be ashamed.  

You buried your face in J’s chest, whining. “I dunno. You ain’t complaining.”  

He loved when you got nervous; your proper grammar became non-existent. Your nose bumped against a bullet hole and it caused your guilt to come flooding back. “You sure you’re okay?” you asked.  

You tapped the small indentation on his chest for context.  

“Hm? Oh yeah. Didn’t even feel 'em, Light. I guess.. I should uhh a-polo-gize for scaring ya. I didn’t mean to.” He kissed your forehead before snuggling you closer to his chest.  

It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to come home by crawling on the roof and whatnot, but Joker wanted to test out all the cool features his new suit had. So far, it was a sound purchase and bonus points, his Light love it. Perhaps a bit too much.  

You were just full of surprises. Nothing like friendly fire between lovers and a blowjob for a Friday night in.  

[j0kers-light]

HAPPY THANKSGIVING FROM CHAOS 🖤✨

I accept this challenge. Here's a drabble for the festivities! I dare you to read this underneath the table. I typed it while in the kitchen 😈

“J-Jo-ker.. slow.. please, down!” Your jumbled pleas went on deaf ears as J continued to plow you through the mattress.

You were overstimulated, tasting colors, and drooling all over the sheets, and he still had the energy to reach a hand down to grab a fistful of your braids. Your body moved like a rag doll to his will.

Joker smiled and planted a kiss near your ear, “Nuh uh, I gotta.. show ya just. how. thankful. I am. This isn’t enough.”

As quickly as Joker yanked you up, he slammed you back down into the pillows, deepening the arch in your back.

His guttural groan had your eyes rolling back as he rammed his dick into you with wild abandon. You lost count how many orgasms Joker wrung out of you, and he didn’t mind shooting blanks for the rest of the night if this was the end result.

His Bunny completely wrecked underneath him, taking every last drop that he was willing to give. And he had plenty more..

Joker whispered your name right as his final release washed over him like a flood.

He fell onto your back, mindlessly rutting his dick deeper into your cunt to prolong the pleasure just a little bit longer. It felt too good to stop, yet your wet hiccups were too pitiful to ignore.

Your hands were patting the bed, searching for purchase, and Joker wordlessly intertwined his fingers with yours, grounding you to him.

His breath was heavy on your ear, “Happy uhh, Thanksgiving, Y/n. I’m.. sooooo thank~full for ya.”

Okay fanfic writers, your mission, should you chose to accept it, is a filthy 100 word drabble, for any pairing, to be posted on Thursday, in time for American Thanksgiving.

Ready, set, write!

[harlesluvsyou]

🃏─────BUNNY

in which, joker burns

with jealously, and reminds you

that you’re his ❞

ledger!joker x f!reader, NSFW (18+), jealousy, hate/make-up sex(if you squint), hair pulling, smut, gun play, knife play, blood play, breath play/choking, slapping, joker is joker, threats, VERY toxic situation ship! tho i write this, its never to glorify any of the especially cruel actions. keep this in mind and read at your own caution and leisure.

Your date with Danny- Dave? You weren’t sure- had gone just like the other four had, boring and leaving your heart aching for your clown prince of crime. You two, Joker and you, had gotten close after he stayed at your apartment for a month after robbing a nearby bank. He had threatened to kill you if you didn’t let him stay- it ended up though the only killing he was doing was between your legs. You both grew very fond of one another- and then one day, you woke up and he was gone- in his stead, a note telling you he’d be back soon. You had waited for what felt like forever, weeks and weeks passing you by with no sign of him. So, you did what any normal girl would do and moved on.

You walk through your apartment door, grumbling to yourself about how bad the food was at the restaurant you had been at not too long ago. You hear the sound of your TV, perhaps you had forgotten to turn it off? It’s when you hear a low hum that you snap your head towards the sound. You could recognize that voice from anywhere.

You stiffen when you see him there, sitting on your couch with his legs propped up on your coffee table. The TV on and illuminating your living room. His dark eyes flicker to your form, and in your daze you forget that you’re holding a bouquet of roses- and they most certainly aren’t from the man in front of you. “Uh, hi?” He drawls, looking as if he was expecting a much warmer welcome.

He looks like a dream, his head lulled to the side as he tongues the side of his mouth- his tongue flickering over his red colored lips. His hair combed back and his greasepaint just as messy as you remembered. His eyes are a dark ebony, trailing up and down your form and stopping momentarily at the flowers you have squeezed in your grip.

His purple coat and his green vest are draped across the back of your couch and are long forgotten by the time your eyes run over his body again. All he wears is his button up, the fabric tight around his shoulders and his biceps- his tie is loose, hanging limply around his neck. You watch as the muscles in his thigh flex underneath his pinstripe purple pants. His hands are still covered by his leather gloves and God, do you wish they were around your neck.

He looks so beautiful it makes your breath hitch in your throat.

You shudder as he sits up, his argyle patterned sock clad feet hitting your rug as he cracks his neck. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his thighs as he man spreads. You swallow thickly, watching as he fidgets with his hands and you have to work hard to pull your eyes away from the way his pants become tight around his groin.

You take a step back the second he shoots up from the couch, your shoulders pulled up to your ears as your whole body tenses. You try your best to discretely kick off your heels, inching towards the door as he begins his slow walk towards you. He’s fucking tall, taller than you remember as he approaches you like a hunter approaches their prey. Your muscles lock up, your mind telling you to run as his broad shoulders poke into your personal space. He’s too quiet, his lips twitching and his body a scary mixture of fluid and rigid.

You’re scared he will hurt you before you get the chance to explain yourself.

For a moment, you mistake the furrow in his brow and the look in his eyes as kindness- you don’t know how you make this mistake- maybe because you thought you knew him better than you do and because the light catches his eyes just right. Making them twinkle with a golden and pretty brown that’s so familiar and beautiful it swallows you whole. Your shoulders fall and you relax. You think for a moment he’s calmed down and you’re immediately given whiplash when he snatches you up by your hair. You gasp, your back colliding harshly with your apartment door. Pain explodes across your body, your lips pulling into a sneer as your eyes squeeze together. Your scalp burns, your hands dropping the bouquet and flying up to hold onto his forearm as he looks down at you.

“I, uh, leave you alone for not even,” he smacks his lips, “a month!” You don’t argue, though it’s been a bit over a month since you last saw him. “And now loo-k at you, doll…” A sidelong glance with some consideration and you realize he’s picking his words carefully. He wants to make sure his words split you in two, breaking your heart and really hitting you where it hurts. “Being a pretty little slutttttt for someone else, hm? If flowers was, hah, all it took to get you to spread your legs…I would’ve gotten you flowers ages ago, baby doll.”

His grip on your hair tightens and despite the even and amused tone of his voice you know him at least well enough to know to be afraid. He smells like cedar and gasoline and you cry out as he slams your head against the door again. You open your eyes, tears filling them as fear grips at your heart tightly. You’re barely on your tippy toes, your feet flexing as they ache for proper ground.

“N-No! It’s not like that, J! P-Please, please believe me.” You choke out as your chest heaves, terrified by the way rage swims and sparks in his irises. You’re horrified when you realize you’re actually enjoying this, excitement coiling in your gut, tangling around your terror until you can’t tell them apart. You hope he doesn’t realize, but you know he does when he quirks an eyebrow- his lips turning from a frown into a knowing smile. Your words don’t seem to soothe the flame ablaze in his eyes, it only seems to heighten it as he drops you to the floor.

You stay there like that, cradling your head as he steps over you. All of your muscles seize up as the door behind you locks with a click. A second one doesn’t sound, meaning he left the top lock undone. You raise a shaking head, your eyes wide and doe-like. He laughs, and you’re sure that that’s what the devil sounds like.

Why does it sound so compelling? So magnetizing?

His lipstick is slightly smudged, the red making his scars look angry and the little lightning in your entryway highlighting every crack and crease in his greasepaint. “You, uh, scared, babydoll?” He drawls, cocking his head mockingly. One of his hands runs through his hair as he looks down at you. He’s faster than you remember, and you’re dragged up to your feet before you can even utter a word.

The grip on your wrist is punishing and you cry out in pain as he squeezes you tighter. “You sho-uld be.” He clicks his tongue, your legs shaking and your knees threatening to give out underneath his heated glare. He pulls you into him, breathing in your scent and placing his hands on your hips. They feel like fire against your clothed skin.

You squirm and cry out when his fingers tighten- the pressure becomes so harsh that you think for a moment your bones will snap. You’re certain you will at least be bruised and in agony by tomorrow morning. “Tell me, because I am, oh. So. Curious..” He hisses, and you try to pull away from him again when he begins to back you into your apartment. Your hips flush and his body too close to you. “Did you think..that I, uh, wouldn’t come to visit my favorite little bun-ny? That, I, me, me, me, me! Your sweet beau- your villainous lover, wouldn’t see all the pretty gifts in your room and wait for you to come home so that I could, uh, discuss the fact you’ve been a little unfaithful whore?”

You say nothing, swallowing your words and biting back the fact he’s much less than a lover if he only returns to you and comes around when it benefits him. You know better than to speak out of line when he’s like this- valuing your life and all your teeth. If you talk back, you might end up with a broken bone or two.

His eyes are like black mercury, evil and unnatural- something dangerous navigating the depths as he takes a deep breath and sighs. Eventually, your knees hit the back of the couch and you fall into it- the plushness of the fabric feeling like heaven against your flushed skin. The moment of peace doesn’t last long as he grabs you by your hair, you kick and scream as he drags you up the couch. When he releases you, you’re on your back- your tear filled eyes blinking up at him owlishly as he stares down at you.

You do your best to ignore the way heat seems to trickle down into your panties from your lower abdomen.

His hands grab ahold of your bare thighs as he sits at your feet, tugging you down and pulling your thighs over his own. Your dress has ridden up all the way, exposing your lace purple underwear- the way he growls shows his approval and appreciation. He did always love when you wore his colors.

After what feels like a forever— in reality, it could’ve been a minute or two or ten, it would’ve made no difference to you—his lips attack yours. You kiss back instantaneously, and you blame it on muscle memory when your hands bury themselves into his hair- the locks soft against your fingertips. Kissing him is like second nature, it comes as easily to you as breathing and you shudder when he grinds himself against you.

You breathe in his scent, relishing in his touch and the way his gloved hands pull up your dress even further. He kneads your exposed flesh gently, and you remember why you had missed him so much. You gasp, throwing your head back and breaking the kiss when his hand suddenly strikes you. Stinging pain blossoms across your skin, and you watch with low eyes as he sticks one of his hands at a time in his mouth. He catches his gloves between sharp teeth, dragging them off of his hands and throwing them to the side.

“I-I fucking hate you.” You sneer, trying more so to convince yourself than him. He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side as he huffs a laugh through his nose. He knows you better than anyone, knows that you need him more than the air you breathe or the food you eat. He knows that you’re shaking underneath him not just because of fear.

He nods. “Uh huh. Care to, uh, put your money where your mouth is, sweetness?” You don’t get the chance to reply as you have to bite back a moan when his hands touch you again, his warmth so familiar and so sweet that it leaves you needy and wordless- all your sass disappearing. His hands carelessly pull down the top of your dress, your breasts bouncing out as he growls and leans down. He rolls one of your nipples harshly between his thumb and forefinger, his lips and teeth working on the other until your back is arching and your skin is being painted with red, white and black.

He pulls back and gives you a toothy grin as he yanks your sensitive bud hard. His hands trail down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your underwear. He snaps it against your skin. “It’s a real shame, I really like this color on you.” His tongue flicks out to lick the corner of his mouth as he suddenly wraps all of his fingers around the side of your panties.

You try to tell him to wait, but by the time you even choke the word out- your lace underwear is in his hand, leaving red marks on your skin where the fabric rubbed against your tender flesh while he ripped it off of you. You don’t stay mad about it for long when he begins to unbutton his shirt slowly, watching with barely concealed amusement when your eyes stay trained on each section of tattooed and scarred skin that comes into view.

He throws his shirt to the side before taking off his tie and draping it over your own neck. The gentle fabric feels like a noose even if it’s loose for now. It kisses your collarbones and lays flat between your falling and rising chest. You ogle him, his abs poking out beneath marred skin as he chuckles at your obvious attraction.

“What? You, uh, like what you see, hm, bunny?” He coos, and in your humiliation you don’t even realize what you’re doing until the back of your hand strikes his face. Your wrist is in his grip immediately, his eyes darkening as his own hand cracks against your cheek.

Your head snaps to the side, your head swimming for a moment as the stinging tingles and moves across the surface of your skin. “Tha-t wasn’t very nice, I’ve been, uh, very patient with you. Don’t mistake it for….kindness, doll.” He laughs before groaning at the dazed look in your eyes.

Fuck, he hit you hard.

“If I let you go, will you, uh, be-have?” He utters quietly, and he smiles as you nod rapidly. He drops your hands before diving back down to kiss you. His bare chest brushes against yours as his lips devour you, teeth nibbling and drawing blood from your delicate mouth as he works his hands through your hair. He pulls harshly, snapping your head back as his greasepaint begins to rub off on your neck. He kisses your throat sloppily, taking extra care at your artery. He nibbles the skin, shuddering as he feels your pulse accelerate.

Jesus, you feel like you’re going to pass out.

Your legs spread when he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a knife that has his initial carved into the handle. He flicks it open and brings it to the curve of your tits, you curse when it brushes you. It barely touches your flesh- but it splits anyways. Immediately, your skin begins to weep red- how sharp is that knife?

“What happened to all that, uh, moxie?”

His tongue laps up your blood, making the small incision in your skin sting even more. The pain and pleasure of everything mix together, your head swims as he finally- finally, unzips his pants. The sound rings in your head as he pushes your head down by your hair so you can watch the show.

He makes you stare as he pulls himself out of his boxers- surprisingly perfectly shaved— and lines up with your entrance. You shudder, and you glance up through your lashes. You beg him with your eyes, your whole body alight with nervousness and fear as you shake. You want to plead with him, ask him to be gentle- but you know it would all be for not. He laughs at your pathetic display, smirking down at you.

He pushes in slowly, and you grit your teeth as he fills you- every inch and vein and perfect curve of his cock brushing against your walls. The stretch is agonizing, forcing your delicate skin to accommodate his girth. He’s big and it hurts- your wetness doing nothing to ease the discomfort as he groans. You clamp around him like a vice. “You missed me, didn’t you, doll?” He chuckles out, sweat glistening on his forehead as his eyebrows furrow.

He leans over you, resting on his forearms and entangling one of his hands in your hair as his back curves. He pulls out slowly before pushing back in, and you gasp as the fire within him begins to root itself inside of you. The desire you feel runs rampant, consuming your every thought as his hips rock into you. Your couch squeaks uselessly as he pistions his hips so hard that you know you’ll be bruised. He sets an even tempo, fast and hard and ruining as he takes your heated skin between teeth.

“Oh- fuck- God!~” You cry, your muscle tightening as your pleasure spikes. Your jaw drops, your eyes screwing shut as oxygen you desperately needed left you in a wanton gasp at a particularly harsh thrust.

When you open your eyes he’s frowning down at you, his eyes dark and his eyebrows furrowed. “I have no clue what you’re, uh, calling to God for.” He chuckles, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “He can’t hear you when you’re being corrupted by dirty criminal filth like me.” He growls, nibbling on your tender skin and laughing at you when you whine louder than before. “Oh, ho, ho! Little miss innocent isn’t so innocent after all, hm? Does that make you ho-t and botherrrred? Knowing that you’re letting a mass murderer use your pretty little cunt to get off?” He chuckles out, not even half as breathless as you as he forms his sentences easily.

He leans back, pulling your calves over his shoulders as he fucks into you. Your head is thrown back, your hands buried into the fabric of your couch as one of his hands run down your stomach. You groan when his hands brush against your breasts- and then hiss when he purposefully pushes into the cut he had made earlier. You go to cuss at him but find your voice lost and your heart immediately forgiving him as his thumb brushes against your clit. Need sparks in your chest, heat flooding between your legs as you shake helplessly. Your pleasure is all you can focus on, your body writhing beneath him. He works your body perfectly, moving his thumb expertly against your heat and making you dizzy with pleasure.

You squirm, every single one of your nerves screaming as he pulls out. He tucks his knife between his teeth and roughly rolls you onto your stomach. One of his hands press your head into a pillow, your arms wrapping around the plush fabric to ground yourself as he enters you again with one smooth motion. He takes his knife out from his mouth and tucks it back into his pants as he fucks you. You can feel the electricity underneath your skin crackle when his hands come into contact with your skin. He kneads your flesh gently, and the sound of slapping skin and breathless moans fill the air.

He rolls his hips, his tip kissing your cervix and leaving you screaming into the pillow. “Shut up.” He growls suddenly, all form of patience leaving his body as he finds the tie around your neck. “You’re, hah, enjoying this a bi-t too much. Look at the timeee!” He drawls, tsking and shaking his head from behind you. “So late and you’re so louuuud..wouldn’t want to wa-ke, uh, your neighbors, would we?” He yanks it back, tightening the tie around your throat and cutting off your air supply. He laughs loudly as you gag and choke at the sudden loss of oxygen, your neck snapping back as he forces your back to arch into the couch.

You feel delirious, pleasure crashing over you in waves as your core pulls taut. You choke out a whimper, your orgasm quickly approaching when he shifts his hips and buries himself into you at an angle. Pleasure makes your brain go blank- and he must realize it when he laughs. “Oh? Found your swe-et spot, did we?”

He drives into you over and over again, fucking that spot raw until you think you’ll burst if you don’t cum. Your thighs shake, your muscles spasming as you choke out cries and pleads. Your walls flutter around him, the lack of air rendering you so dizzy that black spots pop up in your vision. The pleasure overwhelming as your head clears for a moment, and then is dragged under the depths once again.

You drown in your desire as his hand cracks against your ass. The pain dances with your euphoria so beautifully that it all feels the same to you. “That little boy toy of yours can’t fuck you like I do, hm? Can’t make you, uh, beg for more or for pain? Can’t fuck you senseless- can’t make you a shaking, crying, fucked out mess beneath him?” He asks, and is delighted when you shake your head- murmuring in agreement as you shudder. Suddenly he slows down, his eyes rolling over to the boy who stands wide eyed in your entryway. “Hear that, loverboy?”

In your pleasure, you hadn’t heard the creak of the door or the voice calling for you- telling you that you had forgotten your phone. You hadn’t heard when Daniel- Derrick…maybe, said the door was locked and he had let himself in using the key under the mat because he heard you scream and was oh so very worried- especially when he saw the roses on the floor. You hadn’t heard any of that or the slap as a box of chocolates fell from his hands in his shock. “C’mon baby. Show the eager crowd what you’ve, ah, got! You are tonight’s en-ter-tainment after all..”

You look to the brunette man, your whole body shivering and your face ruined by mascara running down your cheeks. Your eyes go wide in terror, and you want to shot yourself when you realize you don’t feel any guilt or shame. You mean, it was only the fifth date? He didn’t even know your middle name to be fair- and for the life of you, you couldnt even remember his.

You cry, your eyebrows furrowing as Joker reaches underneath you and between your legs. His eyes don’t leave the heartbroken boy at all as he begins to fuck you as harshly as he had been before. Your body arches into him, you lean deliberately into his touch- craving what only he can give. “What? Something’s eatin ya? You, uh, wishin’ you could be me- fucking dollface here? Or are you wishin’ you could be her? I’d get it, I’m, hah, a very good fuck after all.” He huffs, laughing and twisting your clit between his hands and forcing you towards an orgasm that will crush you. “Can you, uh, tell by the look on her face? Isn’t she so pretty when she’s fucked stupid?” He yanks the tie back, revealing your, as he called it, “fucked-stupid” face. Your mouth goes between hanging open and your teeth clamping together tightly as you fight for air. Your eyebrows drawn together and your eyes alternating between being squeezed shut and half lidded as he pounds into your dripping cunt.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity he rolls his hips forward and presses on your clit. He’s all around you, his scent and his voice and his touch. The humiliation, the desire, the hatred and love. It eats up all rationality and shame you have and your whole body locks up- the coil in your stomach snapping and going haywire- brushing against every vein and nerve ending and setting you on fire. Your eyes roll back, your mouth falling open in a breathless gasp as he finally lets go of the tie and allows you to breathe. Shivers rack your whole body, and you’re certain if it weren’t for his hand on your back- pressing you down- you would’ve jumped off the couch like a woman possessed.

Your orgasm rips through your body, ripples of vicious animalistic desire filling your chest and making you whine. He never stops thrusting, never stops laughing and mocking you and the man who had walked in on your little “play date,” as he would call it. He groans when you call his name, sweat coating his body as his muscles flex from the effort it takes to not seriously hurt you. He really, reaaaaally fucking wants to. Joker knows he could kill you right now, you’re so vulnerable and it would be so easy to snap your little neck. You’d die while having one of the most earth shattering orgasms you’d ever have.

But the second of satisfaction he would gain from feeling your bones give way to him? Well, it would never compare to how tight your pussy clamps onto him. How pretty you sound when you beg and whimper and cry. How delicious it is when your tongue caresses his name as if it’s the only thing besides his dick you’ll ever want in your perfect mouth. God, he thinks, you’re such a good lay.

He fucks you through it, and you ride wave after wave of pleasure until you can’t figure out if it’ll ever end. It all comes together perfectly, your bliss following one long nerve throughout your whole body. You cry out, shockwaves of need flooding you and making you forget when your orgasm even began. It felt like it had been going on forever, the friction between your legs never ending as somewhere underneath all of your dopamine and oxytocin, his voice reaches you. His pelvis slams into your ass, his hand tangling in your hair and yanking it so hard you think it’ll come out of the root as he coos. “Good girl,” he drawls, “that’s it, keep it coming.” He laughs, watching as your back arches to a degree that looks painful.

Shuffling sounds and his voice drops as he speaks to Dillion…you think, who is now trying to leave. “You stay,” he pants, “right fucking there. Watch as I fuck what you thought was yours- but act-ually is and will always be mine. Isn’t that right, baby?” He coos, laughing when you confirm with a breathless and whiny yes, sir.

The boy’s—his name you finally recall as David— eyebrows furrow. “Fuck you!” He yells, his fists bunched at his sides as he spits the word as if it’ll shoot Joker down from his place on top of you. As if it’ll slow his thrusts and make your eyes roll back into place.

Joker snorts, his hands moving to massage your ass as he leans back and fucks into you slower than before. “Thanks for the offer, toots. Butttttt,” he glances at the a qqq man, his eyes running up and down his body, “you’re not my type.”

You whimper and whine and with every slow thrust he breathes life back into you, winding you up like a toy and pushing you once again towards another orgasm. David turns to leave again, and this time Joker reaches behind him and grabs his gun- you hadn’t even known he had it on him. “Ah, ta, ta. I thought I told you to stay put. Either you listen or,” he points the gun at your head and you freeze up, horrified by the way your excitement doubles inside of you. A click sounds, the safety off and your pussy sopping wet at the risk of it all.

You would really need to look into therapy after this.

“Actually? You. Know. What!” He smacks his lips, laughing as he presses the gun harder against your skull. “Leave and I’ll just, uh, find you. Get my goons to kidnap you and then we can have our own little play date. Would you like that, David?“ He utters his name like he’s known it his whole life, his eyes darkening as you squeeze around him. “Would you like to have some, uh, real fun? I do have to say though, I highly dou-bt that I, uh, will be as sweet as I am with my little bunny here..I have a soft spot for her and this pretty pink pussy of hers. I might end up tossing you around a bit.” His eyes fall back onto you as your pussy spasms around him at his threatening words, wishing for a moment he was saying them to you and not him. He taps the barrel of the pistol against your head, and you whimper aloud. “She seems to like that idea too. Yeah, baby? Want me to, uh, fuck him u-p for wanting to get into your pretty purple panties?”

You don’t mean to moan as loudly as you do, and you groan as he pulls you by your hair- bringing your back flush against his chest. “Say cheese.” He laughs, forcing you to look into the hazel eyes of your past date. At this new angle, somehow he’s fucking even deeper into you. You squirm and cry as he breaks down your resolve with every single thrust of his hips. Your boobs bounce along with every snap of his pelvis, and he grabs your arms and twists them painfully back and behind you. He yanks you to meet every piston of his hips, his shoulders rolling back as he grits his teeth- his tongue flickering across his lips as he furrows his brows.

Your bodies slant together perfectly, two puzzle pieces snapping together as your body presses deliciously into his. He nibbles on your neck, letting go of your arms to fondle your breasts with calloused hands. He keeps his eyes on David, smiling against your heated skin as the sound of your pleasure fills the space. Your nails find purchase in the fabric of his pants, your ears ringing with the sound of your own slick and skin slapping against skin.

Your pleasure builds, slowly but surely you’re toeing the edge of a cliff- ready to be thrown off. It’s only when his teeth bite deep into your shoulder that your eyes roll back. Finally, you come undone once again. It’s unexpected this time and hits you like a truck. You scream out his name, your pussy quivering as you shudder. Your pleasure burns red hot, making your stomach tighten to a degree that is damn near painful. He slips a hand up your chest, squeezing your neck as he murmurs praise in your ear. He tells you that you’re taking it so well, that you feel so good around him and his words? They go right between your legs, adding fuel to your never ending fire of want for him. You twitch against him, your hair sticking against your sweaty forehead as you shudder. The wet sound of your cunt is filthy, his cock buried so deep inside of you that you can’t think straight.

He whispers in your ear, your body reacting to every little word that slips into your head as he paints your body red with his lips. He leans back, pulling you with him until he’s on his back and you’re riding him reverse cowgirl. Your thighs shudder- barely able to move as exhaustion begins to hit you- but you pull yourself up anyways until just his thick tip is inside, he clicks his tongue and grabs your hips- he pulls you down harshly and forces a loud cry from your throat. “Sorry, toots. I’m not, uh, feeling very pat-ient today.”

You ride him like a dog in heat, chasing a third orgasm to hear that lovely praise fall from his lips. From the TV, a loud scream sounds and you jump for a moment before continuing the bouncing of your hips. Your nails dig into his thighs for leverage as you drag yourself up and drive your hips down the thickness of his cock- rendering yourself thoughtless as you babble out nonsense he can barely make out. He laughs at you, rubbing circles into your waist with calloused finger tips.

Still, David stands there. Rage and fear filling him as he watches your hips roll around the clown’s dick. When he finally can’t take it anymore and runs out, not believing in- or perhaps not caring about the Joker’s threat- the man underneath you laughs.

You try not to think about what will happen to David.

Another scream, louder than before, breaks your focus and you feel his muscles tighten underneath you. J laughs, shuffling a bit to get comfortable. “I bet that, I, ah, could make you scream louder than that. Shall we find out?”

You don’t get to respond, his hips pounding up into you to meet every sloppy motion of your fatigued body. “Mm, that’s it, baby doll. Roll those pretty hips for me. Lemme’ see just how much you missed me.” And you do, you roll your hips and let him fuck up into you so harshly you see stars. You scream as he fucks the sense right out of you. You’re certain you’ll be able to count and name every planet in the solar system by the time he’s done twisting the wires in your brain over each other. “Keep going, sweetheart. Make yourself cum all over my cock again. Do it, for me.”

Pleasure lights the furnace inside of you again, and you shake your head. Earlier, the pleasure hadn’t gotten to a point of it being overstimulating and painful- now? It had. You plead and beg, your words leaving you so fast they hardly make any sense. “No, no, no, no. J, mmm, no! I can’t- fuck, not again.” His hands reach up, grasping your hair and pulling you backwards until you fall flat against him- somehow, he stays tucked inside you the whole time.

He huffs, rolling his eyes. “Uh, yeah? You can and you will because I told you to.” He growls, fucking into you like it’s the only thing he can bring himself to care about. You cry out, whimpering as he slides into you perfectly- the fabric of his pants soft against your heated skin.

“Please, J! Please..”

He tsks, wrapping a hand around your neck and growling down at where you lay on his chest. “You want a change of pace that bad, hm? Fine then. I’ll give it to you sweet cheeks.” You whimper in confused relief- not quite understanding his words as he picks up the pace.

As your pleasure burns hot once more, your body stiffens with pleasure turned pain while your toes curl. It’s then he stops suddenly. All of your euphoria slipping through your fingers like sand. His muscles twitch with effort as he exercises the most self control he’s had to use in years.

That’s how you end up being edged for at least an hour, by the time he’s finally breathless and shuddering- trying as hard as possible not to cum just yet, you’re crying even harder than you were before. You’ve been babbling nonsense, your brain melting out of your ears as he presses into you. He peppers kisses against your neck, panting and groaning as he fucks you- the hand around your throat tightening with every sloppy thrust.

“Alright, dollface.” He pants, his head getting thrown back when your overworked pussy- throbbing around him- tightens at the sound of his voice alone. “Okay, pretty girl.” He rolls his eyes, finding it amusing how needy you are. Greed fills your chest, you need more. “It’s, uh, my turn to put on a show.”

He pushes you off of him, forcing you onto your hands and knees. There’s no resistance when he lines up and slides back into you with a wet squelching sound that makes your head spin in dirty desire. “It’s our,” he smacks his lips, laughing, “last performance of the eve-ning. Let’s go out with a bang.”

He grabs your hips in a vice, gritting his teeth and groaning as you whimper and whine with even the slightest tilt of his waist. He leans over you, whispering in your ear as your ass slaps against his pelvis. Every time he pulls out, your spongy walls suck him back in- needing it- needing him so fucking bad.

You whimper something, and he manages to make out the syllables that make up his name. Your used hole shudders, quivering while you squeeze your eyes shut as your screams reach new heights. He doesn’t care enough to tell you to be quieter. He wants everyone to hear you, hear the way you become a mindless slut just for him.

Finally, he builds you up again. Every swift movement adding one more stick to the fire- one more brick in the house of pleasure that was destined to fall and crush you underneath its ruins. Joker groans, his balls tightening as his thrusts lose all tempo and rhythm. He chases his high, one of his hands slipping between your lips and he starts to fuck your mouth with his fingers.

You hollow out your cheeks, whimpering and gagging as he makes you choke on his digits. “Bite me.” He hisses, and you freeze up at his request, thinking he maybe didn’t mean literally. When the feeling of cold steel meets your neck, fear washes over you. “Bite me, you fucking bitch.” He growls, and your teeth close harshly around his fingers.

His eyes roll back, his mouth falling open in a breathless wheeze as his strokes only seem to speed up. The knife nicks you, blood trickling down your neck and painting your body with red. “Harder, doll. Keep it up and you’ll be earning the next orgasm I fuck outta you.”

You do as he says, and the taste of iron fills your mouth as you break through his skin. The taste is addicting, and you feel like a pittbull that has had its first taste of blood. Once you have it, nothing will ever be enough until you have it again. Maybe it’s the endorphins flooding your system, or maybe you’re more like him than you thought- but you moan at the taste of his life draining from his hand. His blood dancing across your tongue.

You sink your teeth in deeper and his hips stutter, his shoulders rolling back as his mind goes blank. “Ohh fu-ck, baby.” He grits out, his jaw and neck flexing as he goes rigid. “Yeah- I’ve decided…‘m jus’ gonna keep ya. Gonna wrap you up in a bow and, uh, fuuuck- gonna keep you. You’re too good to let go. Gonna stick you in a room and throw away the key so, ah, nobody else can have this pussy. Yeah? You like that idea, sweetness? You like it? You like me?” He growls, and you hum in agreement around his fingers- drool dribbling down your chin as he shivers and fucks you so hard you hear the low scratching of the couch moving with each snap of his hips against you.

His words are filthy and you feel your whole body shaking as he rolls his hips, you’re so close you can hardly make a sentence without moaning and whining like some horny slut. “Oh baby doll…” He snarls, teeth bared as he shakes. “I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. Gonna cum deep inside of this pussy of yours. I’m gonna knock you up good- make you stuck with me.”

And you snap at his words, your body alight with motion as you tremor violently. Your walls clench around his length and he too comes undone. He pulls you closer, emptying inside of you and shaking as his muscles constrict. He pants behind you, chest heaving as his pleasure ripples through his body. He lets out a shuddering breath, waiting to come down from his high.

A knock sounds at the door. “Hello, this is the GCPD, your neighbors heard some screaming and were concerned for your safety. Is everything alright?”

Joker groans, and you sigh in defeat- exhausted and absolutely tuckered out. Now, you have to deal not only with your psycho clown- but with a bunch of cops. This was going to go every way but swimmingly.

hiii! please excuse any misspellings i looked this over like 100 times lol!!! i really hope you enjoyed :3

[jakegyllenbaalz]

heath ledger as the joker (the dark knight, 2008)

[anitalenia]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. 𝐎𝐇, 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋, 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐒𝐌𝓘𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 . ♡ 𝑖𝑛 𝑤𝘩𝑖𝑐𝘩 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑎 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡'𝑠 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑢𝑒. 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒 𝑎 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕. 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝓼𝓾𝓰𝓰𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 ♡ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ dark knight!joker x fem!reader ♡

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒔 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ suggestive content, mature content, reader is spoiled but not a brat, reader isn’t necessarily a good person, joker is lowkey your sugar daddy, inner turmoil and lowkey delusions, joker being manipulative ♡

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ slight dark content, a lot of emotional turmoil with reader, lowkey brainwashed reader ♡

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒂 𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒔 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ this is actually like my fav. Joker, I miss him 😞 hope you enjoy ♡ also, this isn’t my best merged gif but I haven’t done one since my wattpad days 😫 2017 era 🕺🏻 Sorry this has no smut in it, but this is my first joker fic so I wanted to do something tame. I’m not sure how I would approach writing smut for him 😭 he cray cray. I do like this idea though so I’ll probably expand on it somewhere down the line. ♡

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ♡ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐍. This was a fact constantly paraded around your face everywhere you went in Gotham City. It was in the front pages of newspapers most often, written in big, black, bold letters that the bad man had struck again. Murder, ruination, destruction, robbery, devil — all synonymous with his name, all written in big, black, bold letters.

It would be written in the same newspapers, more often than not, that were shoved into dingy trash cans and sold at corner stores. A big gray photo of his mugshot plastered right onto the front page of the neatly rolled up papers thrown onto your porch every morning. His face was easily distinguishable and it always made you shiver when you saw it; soulless black eyes topped with a frazzled hair of green.

It was televised in the local breaking news segments almost every day on the hour, when you’d be sitting at your glass table drinking your morning coffee, wearing that grand red robe that was much more expensive than necessary. It was always the same story; the bad man has stolen millions from another major bank and has somehow gotten away with it, whatever will Gordon do?

The joker. His face, those beaming crimson lips, they were plastered on the tabloids and the front pages of magazines and painted across the wanted posters that hung on every light pole installed on every block in the grandest city of grime.

He was everywhere you seemed to be, watching, smiling, plotting. His scarred face a shadow in the back of your mind and his maniacal laugh an echo that lingered behind your every thought.

He was in every reflection and sprinkled around every corner; the yellow tape wrapped around the ruins of a building, the joker playing cards mockingly laid out in the street brushing past you in the soft breeze, the eery quiet after nightfall and the laugh dancing in the empty streets everyone pretends to not notice.

He was like a ghost, your own personal demon you couldn’t just brush to the side and ignore. His presence was constant and persistent even when he wasn’t there, gnawing at your sanity like a feral dog thin and hungry, the memory of his smile found in the cold corners of your house and his sourly sweet musk soaked into every pore of your polished home. His very existence haunted you, as you were sure he intended.

No matter the source the message was always profoundly clear to you; you could never escape him.

You belonged to him in his own possessively twisted way you could never rationalize with a sound mind. You were his and he loved to entertain that notion in front of you as often as he could. He had spared your life that night in a carefully orchestrated plot to ensnare you, wrap you in his shadow and keep you tucked away in the dark.

You were his.

Yes, That was a fact that blared in your mind as loud and as simple as big, black, bold letters.

You were his.

Today was a dreaded day for you for one fatal reason and one reason alone. Today was the first of November, a very dreaded day you had found yourself dreading to face during the whole length of October.

With every beginning of a new month he would take it upon himself to visit you, invite himself into your life once more and disrupt any kind of routine uniformity you had developed. He’d come just to remind you of who exactly you belonged to, of who exactly gave you this life to begin with.

Of course, you would see him sparingly throughout the month when he’d come check up on you unannounced — it was really just a ploy to make sure you were sat put and not planning anything devious behind his back. Those moments were short and brief, sporadic and sometimes only ever occurring thrice within a thirty day period. Those moments were manageable.

He was a busy man he’d always say, too busy to attend to you and your whims.

But now it was the first of the month, the beginning of the month. He reserved those days especially for you, to give you his undivided attention and to ensure you’re properly reminded of your place. Today, Joker was going to come to your door once more with the expectation of you catering to his delusion, with the intention of being with you in every sense of the word.

You had found yourself lingering in bed later than usual, being sure to keep the television off to avoid yet another news story on the man you were going to see later on in the evening anyway.

You had avoided going outside, avoided any newspapers or magazines, completely disrupting your normal ritual in order to remain sane at the expectation of what was to occur later on. You didn’t want to see his face, it only served as a heinous reminder of what your life had become; long fragmented strings orchestrated under his wicked, purple gloved fingers.

You had just sat in your living room for the majority of the afternoon in a sweet green dress with a glass of white wine, reading a thick, verbose book you had no real interest in finishing. It might’ve been a dictionary, but you couldn’t focus on the words anyway to know, your eyes just blindly running over blurs of black ink and dwindling for several long minutes on the same page.

Your fingers trembled and you couldn’t help but gnaw on your bottom lip until it was sore, your wine glass constantly refilled and your throat consistently dry.

A part of you hoped that if you drank enough wine you’d be too tipsy to properly remember your night with him; your efforts were pointless and had been for quite some time. Sadly, your tolerance had heightened many moons ago when you found yourself starting to drink more to abide the anxious time you sat waiting, waiting for him.

These were the tell tale signs of your foreboding nervousness, all attempts of futile idle work to distract yourself from looking at the clock overhead your television.

It was a big flat screen, your fancy television was, with the best surround sound and 4K picture any tv on the market could offer. It was unnecessary and cruelly gratuitous — another flashy thing thrown your away to appease you when all it did was take up space. But, you supposed, it’d be selfish to complain.

As with the tv almost everything in your household had been given to you unmerited by the Joker himself; the diamonds, the fancy silver, the lavish fabrics and the fine jewelry. It was all luxuries you used to admire, now they were nothing but blood money to you. They were all one in the same, all tainted with some sort of sin or another he had committed to get them for you in the first place. You really couldn’t stand to be surrounded by them, to be surrounded by the filth.

But, you supposed once more, it wasn’t necessarily unmerited.

If you were really being honest with yourself he had spoiled you, or better put, he had fooled you. He had dangled all the riches and glamour you could’ve ever wanted over your starved, gaping mouth like a chunk of red meat.

You had been skin and bones before him, suffering, discarded to the side of the road like a diseased dog nobody wanted and he had used that to his full advantage, dangling that chunk of meat in front of your face as a faulty promise to ensnare you in his steel trap.

In your old life — that’s what you liked to call it anyway — before him, you were never able to dwell on superficial things like beauty or fashion. They had no place with you then, no substance, as your life was nothing but a dirty stain smeared in the smallest corner of Gotham that would easily tarnish such superficial things. It was a disastrous life held together by the withered scraps of a run down waitressing job.

You had been poor, incredibly so, hungry for the comfort and wealth you’d only ever see dripping off the fancy ladies you’d serve gin and tonics to in their lavish fur coats and shoes.

You were envious of them, angry, easily able to be coerced into any solution that could fix those feelings.

He had viewed your vulnerability as an opportunity, a moment he couldn’t let pass. He had manipulated you with the hollow promises of a magical land full of diamonds and rubies, one in which you’d never be hurt or forgotten about, one in which you’d get everything you ever desired and all your worries would bleed away, one in which you’d look even better than the ladies you’d serve gin and tonics to with their lavish fur coats and shoes.

You had salivated at the thought.

He knew you had been deprived for so long, deprived of love and care, of the warmth and intimacy only a real home could provide. You had missed that sense of belonging, of purpose, and he knew that in the way he selflessly fed to your greedy jaws of want — you wanted it all. He had shown up like a savior adorned in a purple cloak and green hair, coming to your aid. And despite the terrible rumors you had heard about him, the abominable things you’d seen, you had truly thought he was so for a while.

He had saw your famine, your insatiable appetite, and had raised you prosperity, an abundance of all the food, the money, you could ever want. If only you had seen that his promises were just carefully coated secrets to disguise his true intent, a bountiful paradise concealing the sinister hellscape underneath it.

It all seemed like a dream come true at the time. You had ate the scraps of luxury right out of his purple clothed palm and it wasn’t long before you had realized that you’d ate too much; you’d been spoiled by him, fooled by him, so familiar in the unconventional relationship you had found within him now to ever regret doing so.

You could never go back to your old life now and you knew it, he knew it. You could never go back to the dark, to the sick, to the cruelty of the real world outside of your selfishly curated paradise abundant with food, with money, more than you’d ever had in the accumulation of your whole existence. He had trained you well, fed you so much your teeth were rotten and your belly was full.

If only you had known that there was a price, a trick, before you ever agreed to his terms. If only you had read the fine print in the contract, for there was always a price to pay, a trick up their sleeve, when it came to the matters of a clown.

Yes, you were to be given everything you ever wanted, all the money, the clothes, the makeup, the jewelry, everything, but only in exchange for just one little thing.

Your devotion.

Your devotion to him and to him alone and to only ever him.

It seems meager of course, insignificant and small compared to what you were getting in return.

But no, no you see, because there was so much more to it as there always was to a slippery, two-sided promise. He wanted everything in return for giving you everything in the first place. He wanted your loyalty, your trust, your morals, your essence and your very soul. You were rich in the material sense while he was wealthy in a morbidly different fashion entirely.

He had saved you from the street, gave you food, gave you comfort, gave you a home, and just like a dog you had been blinded by his compassion, too blinded by the glitz and the glamour of his castle to notice the cracks in it’s foundation.

He had saved you, fed you, comforted you, clothed you, his loyal pet, bound to his side forever now with a diamond studded collar, your leash tied to the sinister intricacies of his pale hands.

Now, now you were his in all of your totality, a helplessly devoted, hypocritical bitch dressed up in blood-stained diamonds.

There was no saving you now. You were too far gone, too spoiled by him to ever give up your riches for sanity’s sake. He had filled you with that sense of belonging you desperately craved, your existence catered to him and his needs in exchange for a modicum of companionship.

As time went on you had come to loath your two story home and its white walls, its glass tables and expensive vases, its flower ridden garden and its white oak gazebo. It was too extravagant now, each shiny object digging a hole further in the hollow of your chest where your morals were supposed to be. Now it was all material, all superficial, all things given to appease you yet they only took up space.

But, you supposed for a third time, you could never give it up and go back to the way things were. Yes, you hated this house and its white washed walls that seemed to expand and swallow you whole, digesting your cowardice and greed, but you loved that it was all yours and no one else’s, you loved that he spoiled you and only you and you alone, that in a weird, twisted way you had his devotion just as he had yours.

You hated him and all his complexities yet you needed his company and praise. You were a poor, desolate creature lapping up any semblance of gold and care he spared you. Sometimes you’d wonder if there was better for you outside of your white-walled prison, but then he’d stroke your hair and call you a good girl and you’d wag your tail like it was all forgiven, like you were foolish for even thinking such a thought in the first place.

Yes, you were just as you said, a helplessly devoted, hypocritical, bitch.

You filled your wine glass up once more once the sky had settled into a sheer blue hue, the yellow tainted liquid filled to the edge of the glass as you looked at the clock pasted on the white wall over your fancy television with the fancy surround sound and the fancy 4K picture.

You took a heavy sip of dreaded excitement as the clock struck seven.

He’d be here any minute now.

“So, how ya been, honey? After all it’s been a month since the last time I saw you. I was starting to miss you, ya know. Miss ya real bad. Miss that pretty little smile on that pretty little face…” He drawled out slowly in that scratchy tone of his, his voice gritty and raw, fragmented.

You swallowed nervously as his fingers delicately traced over the skin of your cheek from where he stood in front of you, his black painted eyes looking up at you from the bridge of his nose.

He was hunched over in front of you in the stillness of your living room, amidst the white, both of you stood by the red couch yet he was taller than you as always, clad in his signature purple suit and gloves to match — they were soft on your cheek in the fleeting touch he spared them.

You looked back at him with a measly gaze, breath trembled with the subconscious fear you got whenever he was too close to you. His aura was palpable and dark, and with his irritable tendency to step into your personal space it seemed to swallow you whole and make you uncomfortable (not that he really cared). But you also guessed that if you belonged to him trivial things such as boundaries didn’t really apply.

On the other hand, you couldn’t deny that your body wantonly sought out his whenever it sensed him near — the flutter in your tummy, the tightness in your legs and the excited buzzing in your hands. It was an irritating betrayal to your logical mind, who knew wanting him was wrong yet was left wanting anyway.

You had been steadily convincing yourself it was just the symptoms of Stockholm syndrome, but you were not kidnapped and he was no captor… well, in the literal sense of the word. But, maybe that’s exactly what this was; you doubted he’d ever let you leave him anyway. Unfortunately, you knew your affections weren’t as simple as black and white. Really, your feelings for him were a puzzling paradox locked in a spinning box better left unopened, lost somewhere in the dark abysses of your mind better left unexplored.

You inhaled a soft breath, blinking up at him as time, in your altered perception, seemed to stretch and bend into a warped mirage of endless minutes and infinite seconds as you found yourself lost in your own thoughts, the smell of him tickling your nose pleasantly.

He smelt of smoke and something sickly sweet, scents that reminded you of cane sugar and the residue of a house fire. His hair was stringy and green, slicked back away from his messily painted white face that seemed to bore into yours.

Your body was tense, back straight and chin up, your arms sternly at your sides as you were too perturbed to know what to do with them. You were awkward, more than usual, having not seem him in an uncharacteristically long time. You had forgotten what pleasantries you used to rely on when he was around, any automated responses you were comfortable with using lost in the fluffiness of the clouds where you’d never find them again.

You were clueless as to what to say, not wanting to give in to this odd domesticity he was portraying and actually be nice to him, but you also didn’t want to risk it and be rude either. He was an unpredictable creature at nature, confounding and bipolar so it took very little for his switch to flip completely. You’ve witnessed that first hand and it made you incredibly wary.

Joker hummed at you then, blank eyes staring at you expectantly when a few moments of silence passed following his question — you hadn’t really paid attention, his touch leaving you stunned and his fragrance leaving you questioning. He rolled his eyes at you, big hand curling into a fist and playfully knocking at your forehead.

You grimaced at the feeling, body jolting from his touch ever so subtly as his dark voice rasped in your ears once more.

“Uh, hello, anybody home? I asked you a question, it’d be rude not to answer it. You have better manners than that, my dear. Go on, tell me, I’m curious now…” You watched as his tongue quickly flickered out in that weird way it always did, his jaw clicking in the blink of an eye. It was a tick you had noticed fairly quickly after meeting him. He couldn’t help it but it disturbed you nonetheless, an ode to his insanity.

You swallowed the dryness in your throat, head feeling fuzzy as you blinked up at him.

He looked at you with straight lips and bored eyes, already expecting a response you were late saying.

“I-um, I’m sorry I was just distracted. I’m fine, thank you for asking. Nothing new has-has really gone on…” You cleared your throat, releasing a steady breath to calm your buzzing nerves. You looked up at him sheepishly, timidly, as he regarded you clinically, like a surgeon trying to dissect a lie.

You could understand his vexation; you yourself were gradually becoming irritated at your lack of attentiveness. Maybe it was because you hadn’t seen him in so long that was throwing you off balance… or maybe because he seemed much handsomer now than he did then. Maybe your loneliness was making him seem much more appealing than he ever was.

Whatever the case may be, you still felt delightfully anxious, a bubbly sick feeling in your tummy that was oddly giddy yet nervous, like you were talking to your crush for the first time. You hated that feeling but could do nothing to deter it.

He smacked his red painted lips, a low displeased hum sounding from the back of his throat, “Mm, distracted, you say? And what are these… distractions, hmm?” His voice was low and clipped, cocking his head at you as he leaned just a little bit closer to you. It was almost a dare to see if you’d avoid the question altogether, his shadow enveloping you in an ironically terrifying way the back of your mind cringed at.

You were unsure of what to say exactly, crippled under his dark gaze and frowned smile as he stared down at you heatedly. His eyes were always so intense and smoldering despite seemingly holding nothing at the same time, blank and emotionless beads sat in the emptiness of inky black pits.

Your lips parted but no words seemed to sound; you were lost entirely in the ebony abyss of his eyes, not sure what to say or how to respond as you were just spewing sentences you yourself barely understood. You were just too busy talking to appease him that you didn’t even listen to a word you said.

“Well, tik tok dearest I don’t have all night.” Joker said numbly, gravelly, staring at you almost irritably for your odd behavior.

Even he seemed to notice your sudden shyness and it was starting to irritate him; you never seemed to have this problem before nor did you ever seem so agreeable. He was greatly familiar with your rude quips and pessimistic sarcasm yet he hadn’t heard a single one out of your mouth tonight.

How odd, not that he was complaining. He preferred you compliant, malleable.

You gulped once more, your gaze flickering down to his flattened red lips then back up to his eyes, hopefully before he noticed the action.

You looked back at him, clearly nervous for no evident reason, “Well I was just thinking about the last time I saw you. It has been a while…” You managed to formulate a legible excuse, voice soft and almost dainty as you looked up at him doe eyed.

You licked your dry lips as you regarded his expression to your statement; it seemed your words flowed easily from the whispers of the heart, ones you weren’t especially keen on sharing yet seemed to share anyway. They just seemed to have spoken themselves before you could stop them… he was just too close, much too close, it was fogging up your ability to think rationally.

His eyes seemed to register your words, brow flicking subtly in interest like you’d caught him off guard — you most likely did as you yourself weren’t even prepared to hear what you just said either.

He stared over your face heatedly, eyes an inky black, prodding with amusement and curiosity yet he just seemed to stare at you. The air shifted then, warmer now, more suffocating, as you felt your heart start to race at the close proximity and eye contact.

You could feel yourself start to panic slightly at the unexpected moment of intimacy you hadn’t meant to initiate, but you were also curious as to what he would say… maybe he’d surprise you. As you said, he was conclusively unpredictable and erratic, always leaving you guessing. Maybe he’d say something a part of you wanted to hear.

He was tall and narrow in the white expanse of your living room, a dark purple blotch stained on cream colored sheets, so out of place and vaguely threatening it made the air feel thick and smothering. You were finding it hard to think clearly with him this close to you, smelling like he did with his proper purple suit and shiny black shoes.

He was more polished today than usual, not so unruly and scraggly as he usually was… you could even make out the muscle sculpted underneath the confines of his purple suit and the way it tailored to his size perfectly and complimentary.

Maybe he tried to look good for you. Maybe just this once.

You couldn’t dwell on that thought however at the sound of Joker’s voice snatching your attention once more.

He seemed to have found your response funny, letting out a wheezy laugh as his smile seemed to stretch across his scarred face for eons. You were too tense to laugh, watching as he did instead, standing idly by in confusion on what could’ve revoked that kind of response out of him (perhaps even slightly offended that he would dare laugh at your showcased vulnerability).

But, you also knew trying to make sense of the Joker’s actions was entirely asinine. His whole being, his whole existence, was made to be senseless and absurd. You’d have to be his crazy to understand his crazy, a level you weren’t quite ready for.

He finally looked at you after his giggles transpired, regarding you with amused eyes and a wide smile.

“Ahh, so what you’re really saying is, you missed me?” He grinned, cocking his head at you animatedly, his yellow stained teeth bright in the dark expanse of his mouth.

You didn’t reply, too stunned he would say such a thing and too frightened by the pumping in your chest and the words caught in your throat. He was bold, brave even, for saying such a heavy thing so simply. You eyed him astounded, opting with your shaky silence as a reply instead.

Joker scoffed at you, rolling his eyes dramatically once more, “Well go on, tell me. Tell me you missed me, say it. It’s not good to, uh, lie to ourselves, is it? Honesty is, and always will be, the best policy.” He grinned sarcastically, his warm hands flinging around his face in a dramatic gesture to emphasize his words, his arms long and not too muscular, adequately thin and yet still capable.

He chuckled darkly, handsomely, now eyeing you in a twisted fashion much different than you did; he wanted to hear you say it, tell him, confess to him, submit to him. And it gave him no greater pleasure than breaking you down to crumbs in his palms… his to use as he pleases and his to do whatever with as he pleases.

But, on this specific matter, he just wanted to hear you say it. He was fully aware of how much of a struggle it would be for you to do so, finding sadistic pleasure in your obvious discomfort.

You gulped again as agnostic revelations pulled at your weak heart once more… had you missed him? Maybe you did, but maybe only in the sense that isolation made you desperate for any form of contact, maybe only in the sense that loneliness made you crave connection. Sure, you’d say you missed him, you’d say you missed him the same way seclusion made you miss anybody, the same way an uprooted flower would miss its green pastures.

However, had you missed him specifically? To be honest, you didn’t want to dig too hard for the answer, entirely too afraid you’d unearth the truth you purposefully buried deep in the dirt a long time ago. Your mind was fragile enough already, deteriorating slowly and gradually the longer you denied and embraced your oddly infatuated companionship with the man in front of you.

You were sure that if you epiphanized to any serious truths you werent sure you wanted to admit your mind would atrophy into a numb, lifeless thing hanging onto the remembrance of Jokers smiling face, left rotting with the harsh witness marks of his perverse adoration.

You blinked at him, mouth going dry and fingertips pulsing as you mumbled out what you only could, “Maybe I did…”

Yes, still the truth — enough so as to satisfy him — but not the whole truth you wouldn’t dare say out loud, not even in the uncertainty of your mind where Joker lurked in the darkest and brightest corners of, easily susceptible to your every thought and feeling.

You couldn’t take that risk of him knowing you inside and out. You needed at least something to yourself, something not shared with him even if it was your own darkest thoughts and desires.

Joker hummed delightfully at your response, giddy at your honesty and the way it made his stomach flutter with black-winged bats.

His eyes closed shut and he seemed to burst into a fit of elated giggles that had his foot stomping on the ground. He covered his mouth with his hand and laughed, laughed so much it disturbed you yet you found yourself blushing anyway.

How pathetic could you be? So enamored with the same man you loathed entirely.

Joker seemed to gather his wits after a moment, a grin still on his white face as he approached you once more, but this time much, much closer than before.

“Oh, oh isn’t that just sweet. You missed me, did you? That’s just what I wanted to hear.” He almost growled possessively, his limber arms quickly wrapping around the lower curve of your waist, hastily pulling you into his sturdy chest with a delectable purring noise that shook through his ribs and reverberated onto the palms of your hands.

Your own breath escaped you in a gasp as your hands smacked into him, breathless and shocked at the sudden contact and closeness. You were quite unprepared for this, your heart racing in your ears and your breaths warm and heavy from such close contact after not having any for so long.

As soon as you touched him and he touched you it felt like something inside of you burst, flooded your internal systems with a need so violent you couldn’t pull away no matter how much your frail mind told you to do so.

You welcomed the embrace naturally, disregarding any logical thought as a soft exhale left your shaky lips. Over time you had learned to smother out your inner sagacity until it was just a dull ache in the back of your skull you could easily ignore.

You welcomed the warmth of his chest and the feel of his foreign embrace, enjoyed it even after a month of not a single touch or sound from another human. You really were so brainwashed beyond your own understanding. You sought him out yet desperately wanted to resist him; you wanted him to hold you and appease you yet you wanted him to leave, leave forever and never come back.

Still, you found yourself melting into him against your volition with a stuttering breath, muscles tense as you still considered letting go but knowing you weren’t going to. You felt comforted and safe in the absence of space between your bodies, something contradictory and confusing as he was very, very dangerous and most likely bound to hurt you with any wrong move you made in your shared future.

You were still sane enough to acknowledge at least that…

Again, you smothered that flame of rationality burning in the back of your head and didn’t bother denying him, mind going blank and empty as your manicured fingers tightened around the folds of his jacket. You exhaled with a soft tremble on your breath, slowly looked up at him with parted lips and darkened eyes.

He looked down at you all the same, eyes delectable and merry yet with carefully concealed undertones of something darker, something evil that resounded brightly in the darkness of his eyes. Maybe a flame of his own he was embracing rather than ignoring, something more sinisterly amatory you didn’t dare question any further as he went to lay his down on your shoulder.

“Ahhh, you smell sweet. Deliciously sweet. You wear perfume just for me? Aren’t you a doll.” He chuckled huskily at his own statement, voice muffled and gravelly like stones on rough pavement. He set his head into the crook of your neck, his cold cheek resting on the warmth of your shoulder.

His two hands were snug around your midsection, fingers digging into your skin sharply like you would dare push him away and run out the door. He couldn’t ever let that happen. He needed you here, with him, could never imagine you running away unless you wanted the city to drown in its own blood.

He’d find you of course. He’d always find you even if it meant burning the whole world to do it.

You swallowed thickly as his fingers tightened on you, looking at the plain wall behind him as your hands dug into the velvety fabric of his coat.

This position was oddly intimate yet very much appreciated. He was always a touchy man, never bothered keeping his hands to himself but they were mostly just meaningless touches, touches meant to annoy and distract you, not sweet embraces meant to console you and romance you.

You felt his warm breath caress your neck as a beat of silence passed, buzzing in your ears with the sound of your breaths. It was ticklish and gentle, a pleasant low hum sounding soon after.

You couldn’t help the goosebumps that rose on your skin from the purposeless action, your eyelids fluttering at the pleasant sensation as he breathed once more.

You were completely shrouded in him now; his sickly sweet scent, his hair tickling your jaw, his strong arms wrapped around you, his raggedy breaths soothing the skin of your neck. It was all overwhelming and all encompassing on your senses. All you could feel was him, see him, smell him… it was making your mind drown in its own deranged splendor as thoughts of wisdom and logic seemed to wither away into ash and smoke.

A cruel metaphor simply portrayed for how similar it was to your own real life. Shrouded by him. Controlled by him. All him and only him.

You could feel your sanity literally slipping away from you the longer you tried to rationalize the hunger biting at your stomach. You could feel it sliding down your body and melting at your heels like you were in the dawn of a new age, shedding old skin and starting anew; a catharsis of your own lunacy as you found yourself craving him to be closer, to hold you tighter, to meld himself as one with you so you’d never have to be alone again.

Another beat of silence passed before you spoke once more, something your mind didn’t want to register but your heart seemed eager to scream.

“I wanted to look good for you.” You mumbled quietly in the small space between his ear and your pink painted lips, eyes flickering down to his green hair then back to the wall as the whiteness of it seemed to blur around you so all you could focus on was him, your savior, your capturer, your most abominable admirer; your nightmare living in a daydream.

You don’t know what made you say it, what made you whisper it into the absence of noise, but maybe it was the way he held you against him like he didn’t want to let you go. Maybe it was the way he hummed lowly on the skin of your shoulder pleasantly and soundly, content to stand with you in the center of your white living room and be the only source of comfort and color you could ever have again.

Perhaps it was the sense of belonging you always craved and now felt in the warm crevice between his arms that made you confess it, of that same sense of purpose he had promised you all those months ago.

“Did you now? For me? Well aren’t you a darling.” Joker hissed the word into your cheek, wet lips rubbing against your skin as he picked his head back up upon hearing your voice.

Your eyes closed momentarily at the feel of his lips on you, a burst of tingly sparks pulsing through your entire left side as neediness crept into your palms. You held him tighter when he seperated his head from you, not wanting him to go now, wishing for him to stay, to keep holding you and to never release you into the cavern of cold that was your soulless living room.

His hands stayed where they were much to your enjoyment, his broad chest still pressed against yours as he looked down at you with a dead yet pleasantly satisfied expression. You had been with him long enough to identify the subtle cues in his rather stagnant facial quirks.

He smacked his red lips, releasing a gravelly hum once more as he cocked his head at you. Observing the way you looked up at him with so much… devotion.

It was written all over your face in bold black marker, eyes glistening with vehement devotement that made a wheezy chuckle bubble in his scratchy throat.

He felt ecstatic, warm fuzzy feelings he didn’t know the word for swirling around in his empty stomach and clearing away any cob web stuck to his dark heart.

Yes, yes you were his and you’d always be his no matter what you had to say on the matter. He had decided it a long time ago and will enforce it for the rest of the many lives you’ll suffer through together.

Your head felt fuzzy, eyes heavy and breaths low and lagged as you stared up at him earnestly. You could feel the arousal pulling at your gut, the admiration stirring in your heart as you looked up at him. He was handsome, so handsome even with the scars, even with the paint, even with the villainous degeneracy hidden under the scarred flesh.

You had him, you had him almost as entirely as he had you and you knew it, he knew it… but you could never say it out loud because you fear the repercussions if you ever did. If you ever completely, entirely, unconditionally gave yourself to him in every sense of the word. But, to your dismay, or to your satisfaction, you already did in a lot of ways.

However, admitting it, fundamentally giving yourself to him, you knew that would be the last straw for your dwindling sanity. You were already so severely fragmented, stained with so many cracks and blemishes that just a simple touch would shatter you.

Your mind was all you had left, all that was left of value. Everything else belonged to him. Your soul, your body, your life. But it was really hard to focus on such noble things when he was this close to you; a handsome, devious, shadow glooming over your light and dimming it completely, smelling the way he did and looking at you the way he did with this peculiar act of tenderness.

It did nothing but aid your arousal further, his hard yet gentle touches and intense yet glittering eyes.

Joker regarded you intensely, his own morbid admiration for you leaking through his palms as his left hand started to glide up the curves of your body slowly and meticulously.

He slid it around your waist, his eyes following the motion to gawk at every dip and curve he touched that was masked by your pale green dress. His finger tips pressed into your skin, into your stomach as his palm stretched upwards, feeling you like it was the for the first time, like it was solely done to tease you.

The tingling sensation pulsing through your thighs, tingling pleasurably on your skin underneath his eager hand, it all made your breaths quicken and pulse jump. You stared at him lustfully now, submitting to your own delusion as you found yourself wanting him. Strongly.

Eventually his hand made it to the valley of your breasts but he made no extra moves to touch them directly as he would in the past. He was abnormally patient, not so frantic with his touches almost like he was calculating them, so unlike his usual nature.

His eyes looked at the areas of your chest he didn’t touch though, heavy and dark, stirring with a lust of his own just as intense and passionate as yours as his thumb grazed the skin of your left breast.

Your breath stopped for a moment, eyes boring into his face even though he didn’t look back at you, eager to see what he’d do next. There was a small, very minuscule part of your brain utterly disgusted with yourself for wanting his bloodstained hands on you in the first place.

You did not listen to it, core hot and clenching around nothing as you stared at him, hyper aware of his hand smoothly sliding up your neck now.

A very vulnerable place, exposed to the unforgiving grip of his palm if he so chose to squeeze the life out of you. You didn’t stop him even as that thought crossed your mind, too hypnotized by his essence and touch to deny yourself the luxury of feeling it.

He looked at your face then, black, hungry eyes flickering up to yours as his fingers wrapped around your jaw and pressed harshly into the fat of your cheeks.

You inhaled sharply at the sting, letting out a hiss as your cheeks dug into your teeth.

Still, you found pleasure in the brutality of his touch, fingers digging into his coat so hard the tips of them burned as you stared back boldly into his starved, manic eyes ablaze with something dangerous and predatory.

You felt something similar sitting heavy in the pit of your gut, something untamed and primal that needed him inside you as importantly as you needed food to eat. It was fierce and wild, striking roughly under your skin like whips and rattling like chains for a taste of what only he could give you.

He forced your head back with a gentle push on your cheeks, eyes crackling with the fervor of a black flame as he inched forward… forward… forward, until his scarred mouth was right above your parted lips and his straight nose was tapping against yours.

You breathed heavily now at such close quarters, so pent up and overstimulated you were confused on whether you wanted him or utterly hated him. But with a need so intense it stung your core and shook your soul, with your stomach so tightly wound together and aching, with the space between your thighs pulsing and dripping for something to appease it, you regretfully, indubitably knew your answer.

He was your answer, him and his skilled, frazzled hands and forked tongue; the serpent tempting you to corruption, to rid yourself of any semblance of innocence you had left.

It was the loneliness you told yourself, the loneliness that made you feel such a way for him. Although, it wasn’t loneliness that made you stare up at him like a horny, doting slave bound to his every wish and desire. You made that choice all on your own.

“You know… I always wonder how I found such a sweet thing like you. So lost, so pathetic. I almost pitied you, really I did…” He grunted lowly, voice a gravely, manic hiss that had your skin crawling pleasurably.

You didn’t dare look away from his gaze as his fingers tightened on your cheeks, not even finding yourself capable of being insulted by his words. You were too enraptured by the rasp in his voice, by the way he stared so intensely at you with equal fervor.

He shook your face for emphasis, your cheeks digging into the ridges of your teeth so hard it stung but you made no move to protect yourself.

The pain only soothed you, made you wetter, only made you more greedy for him and his hands, for the sweet release of pain and pleasure only he could bring you. The pain made you feel something, something other than boredom and guilt these white walls seemed to torture you with, something other than self loathing you seemed to be haunted with.

He was the one that made you feel. He was the one that made you feel like you were still living at all, he was the one that made you feel alive.

He looked over your face intensely, as though inquisitively looking for something beyond it. Picking and prodding at the scattered pieces of your brain for something you didn’t know. His jaw was clenched as he dug his fingers harder into your cheeks, holding your face sternly so you couldn’t do anything but look back at him.

You winced at the pressure, yet your thighs pulsed and fingers tensed for more as your gaze bore into his with sparkling, edacious irises.

“But now I got’cha, don’t I? I have you and you belong to me, isn’t that right, honey? Go on, I want you to say it. Say it now…”

You nodded your head barely in acceptance, eyes glued to him as heavy breathed escaped your lips. You were stuck on him, stuck on the sound of his voice and entirely fixated on his words no matter how deluded they sounded.

“Say it!” He demanded with a rough, agitated voice, tone impatient and thunderous with his demeanor suddenly hostile. He thrashed your face back so hard you yelped.

“Ah! Yes, yes, I belong to you.” You repeated as instructed through clenched teeth, staring up at him with fear blown eyes. He seemed to like your answer as the tight grip around your cheeks dulled slightly.

You panted as the sting throbbed in your cheeks, eyes blown wide and teeth clenched yet you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. He looked crazy but smelt so good, acted like a lunatic but maybe only because he was crazy about you. Crazy about you and only you as his reciprocated feelings seemed to be affecting you the same.

You watched him grin then, something insane and diabolical as giggles erupted from the base of his throat once more.

“Yes, you’re mine. Mine, mine, mine, all mine!” He laughed, jiggling your face in his grip as his mouth fell wide open and his scars seemed to stretch and move in the motion of a crazed smile.

You didn’t laugh with him — you never laughed with him — just stared at him with a newfound fright and even brighter yearning, a yearning so powerful that all you could do was stare at his vermilion lips and the jagged scars cut into either side of them.

Once upon a time you heavily disliked them, was rather perturbed by his disfigurement but now… now they didn’t scare you for he wouldn’t be him without them, those same scars that haunted your dreams yet you couldn’t stop fantasizing about.

Joker’s crazed laughter died down after a minute. A quick minute in your perspective because you couldn’t stop looking at his lips, thinking of them finally leaving harsh bite marks into the hollow of your collarbone with blood red paint smeared over the bruises on your soft skin.

It was a tantalizing thought, one he had initiated many times before yet tonight he seemed to be prolonging the agenda. For the first time ever, you were the impatient one, craving his touch to feel you and satisfy that burning bulb of longing shining bright in the pit of your belly.

He looked at you heatedly, dryly, now standing back to his tall, intimidating stature as his hand released your face from its tight grip. You stared back at him unwavering as he slid it down your jaw tentatively until it was around your neck, resting at the base of it.

You swallowed nervously as he stared hard at the area, gloved fingertips pressing into the skin like he was struggling not to strangle you right then and there.

The thought scared you, how easily you presented yourself to him and discarded any self persevering instincts molded into the strings of your DNA over the course of generations. You were going against your very nature letting him touch you like this but you relished in it, let it wash over you like a pool of warm water.

His other hand swiftly came up and to your face, the pad of his thumb softly tracing over the plushness of your parted lips.

You reveled in the soft feeling it arose out of your sensitive body, a breathy sound leaving your chest like the whisper of a breeze between sheer flower petals. Delicate and dainty, rendering you breathless.

Maybe this was what he meant when he said you’d have purpose again, when he’d promised you belonging.

Yes, you’d have purpose in the sense that you had purpose to him, that he needed you in his own sick, self serving ways and everything you could offer him. You’d always have purpose as long as you stood next to him. Purpose to be found when he was buried deep in your heat and cradled in your heart during the cold evenings spent between Egyptian cotton sheets only his lustful animosity could make warm.

Yes, you’d always feel like you belonged as long as you were with him, entrapped in this huge house he graciously gave you with its sickening white walls and disgusting velvety red curtains. Yes, you would always belong to him in the sense that you didn’t have a choice but to be. He has found you and you are now in his clutches, he has found you and you will never be lost again.

You belonged to him. Your heart, happiness, health, and everything else was entirely his. A gruesome sense of belonging twisted in the dire fabrics of his manipulation, intertwined with his body and absent soul. You belonged to him, tethered to him like a ball and chain, a woefully symbiotic bond. 

Even now, with his boney hand around your throat so easily capable of draining your life force you didn’t bother trying to save yourself. Your very existence was interlocked with his and had been since he first laid eyes on you. You didn’t have anyone but him to trust, even if that meant trusting him with your own life and death.

He had the power to let you thrive, as he has proved countless times with his endless money and pointless gifts, giving you a life anyone else could so easily live but he had all the capability of destroying it as well. He was the King of your small kingdom and you were nothing but the romantic whim he could just as easily spare, a victim caught in the crossfire of his demented devotion.

Your life was quite literally in his hands and unfortunately for you he had an unfathomable proclivity to ruin anything he touched.

The thought made you feel shame for yourself, knowing how dumb you were being as drops of lucidity dripped down the cracks in your fried brain yet your lust didn’t deter. You had already acknowledged that you were deranged in your own way, so desperate for connection that you’d find it anywhere. It just so happened you found it here, in his sticky trap you’d never escape from for reasons beyond your own capability.

Joker removed the hand that was on your neck to the other side of your face, cradling your cheeks in his hands with a much more gentle touch than was exhibited before.

“Now, let me see a smile… go on, smile for me. I wanna see a great… big… smile.”

He smiled slightly at that, a dry fleeting motion with no real effort behind it, cradling your cheeks in his palms like delicate birds. His thumbs rubbed the corners of your lips then stretched them into a smile for you. You didn’t resist him, loosening your lips as he stretched them so far they cracked.

You ignored the burn, your eyes showed no signs of happiness as a smile usually demonstrated. Just lustful watery things staring up at him pleadingly, begging for him to finish this act of his and relinquish the pain you were starting to feel in your lower regions.

Your muscles were tense, body longing for him to touch it in the places you needed him most, to carve his admiration into the fat of your hips and apex of your thighs so you’d never lose it. You were dirty with his tainted love anyway, too much to care anymore; could never feel clean.

He stared at your smile with a criminal look in his eyes, a cackle scratching at the back of his throat as your fingers tightened even tighter around his jacket until the edges were engulfed in your own warm palms. You fought the desire to yank his lips down to yours, knowing you should never rush him no matter how impatient you were becoming.

“Ah, ah, ah, there we go. Now isn’t that pretty?” He rumbled fiendishly, satisfied now as his thumbs slid down your cheeks in a frowning motion until your lips gradually reset themselves into a line.

You swallowed once more, staring up at him wantonly as his hands slid down to lock onto your upper arms. Sparks burst where he touched you, your lifeless body abuzz with an invigorating feeling only his greedy fingers could make you feel.

You didn’t say a thing, unable to speak, longing for his lips to touch yours and for his lithe hands to familiarize themselves with the smooth skin of your body as he has so many times before.

You couldn’t imagine how desolate you looked now, so wrecked in the pupils of his glowering eyes as he stared down at you with an intensity you easily recognized, an intensity burning with the promise of wrecking you entirely later on.

“Now, what do you say we go and have a little fun, huh? I’d really appreciate it if you’d do me this little favor. You know I hate to make a fuss but, uh, it’s been a…rough… night.” He mumbled sarcastically in remembrance of something you had no clue of, rolling his eyes at himself as his tongue flicked out of his mouth again, his thumbs stroking the skin on your arms in an oddly patient way.

He hummed with his scratchy voice in the tone of a question, staring down at you blankly in expectation of a yes.

You nodded your head dumbly, so consumed with want that all you could see was him, think of him, him, him, him. Him and his devilish gloved hands and long purple fingers that had killed so many yet only seemed to bring you back to life in the harsh and tender touches they spared you. Blood stained hands, hands tainted with grandeur sin and murder that only seemed to exhilarate and enliven you.

Him, him and his red lips that spoke such curses and cruelty yet kissed you so delicately like a golden star dotted in the blanket of a navy blue sky. Him and his body riddled with scars and imperfections hotly intertwined with yours as he conquered you in a way so similar to how the Roman’s stormed the Greeks. Just as powerful, just as influential, just as legacy lasting.

“Okay.” You breathed out softly in acceptance of his words, of your own delusions, already staring at his lips as eagerly as a lifeless carcass only brought to life by his magical kiss; the most twisted tale of Snow White written in any media.

Joker grinned villainously, cackling at your behavior before his hands tightened their hold on you and he was lunging your smaller body towards his in a messy, much awaited kiss that left red paint smeared over your own lips in the same, wicked smile that he had.

How fitting.

⋆˚࿔ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ @little-miss-chaoss @ghostslillady @boobaeri @prayingal (I think that’s everyone, hope you enjoy ☺️)

[lightsabergirl]

"I could fix him"

"I could join him"

I could crochet him a cardigan (what muuuuderr?)

(yes I organized them with the most recognizable at the top, yes I also know the last two are extremely niche and people won't know what I'm talking about, what of it?)

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Bunny (Part 3) - Health Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

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

Word Count: 12,588

Warnings: murder, Joker, minor age gap, police (ew)

Summary: Imma cut to the case, girly loses her car

(MASTERLIST) (Part Two) -

A/N: Hey...how yall doing... Sorry I kind of disappeared off the face of the earth for a little while...my bad, I have made a few posts explaining how my life's been a mess recently, so had to take a step back from all this for a while. I don't know how often I'll be able to update things/post, but I'll do my best with the time I had, it might just be a bit slow, sorry And thank you to everyone that reached out to me, it's so sweet to have you guys looking out for me and all that, thank you so much, it means the world and thanks for reading most importantly, it's good to see people enjoying my fics 💚 SO! it's been a while, but I hope I didn't disappoint :) Enjoy~

-

It had been over a week since Y/n had last seen Joker. A week since the night he brutally beat the shit out of Max, the image still lingered in her mind, as did his words. How he made it clear she wasn’t allowed to have anyone else in her life. After everything that happened, Y/n couldn't bring herself to attend classes. The risk felt too great, she didn’t want to anger Joker any more than she already had. She had been isolating herself in her dorm ever since, barely leaving except for quick trips to the bathroom or to grab food from the dining hall. It was as though the walls of her small room were closing in on her, and the world outside felt too dangerous to face.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if Joker had been around to break the monotony, to bring some kind of human interaction into her lonely routine. His presence, unpredictable as it was, might have been better than the suffocating silence. But then again, he was the one who had forced her into this isolation. Did she really want comfort from the same man who had made her feel trapped in the first place?

Well...yes. Yes, she did. 

As much as she hated to admit it, Y/n missed him. Missed J. What if he was right? What if she truly didn’t need anyone else? After all, people had always made her feel uncomfortable, anxious. Except for Joker. Despite his chaos and unpredictability, he had a way of making her laugh, of making her feel seen and special. Strangely enough, there were moments when he even made her feel safe. And when she really thought about it, she only doubted him when he wasn’t around. It was in his absence that the questions and fears crept in. But when J was by her side, everything seemed brighter, more manageable. It was like her doubts evaporated in his presence, leaving behind only the spark he ignited in her.

She had no idea why he hadn’t called or shown up in the past week. Maybe he was busy with fuck knows what. Y/n had been avoiding the news along with people, deliberately shutting herself off from anything that might clue her in to Joker’s latest chaos. She hated hearing about his “exploits”, it made everything feel too real, too overwhelming, as if by hearing about his crimes, she became more entangled in his dark world. And she wanted to keep that part of her life as far away as possible.

But then a chilling thought crossed her mind. What if he was dead? Her heart skipped a beat, her chest tightening as her breathing grew ragged. Could that be it? Joker, her Joker, dead? No, it wasn’t possible. He was the Joker, larger than life, untouchable. But if that were true, then where was he? Where was her J?

Panic crept up her spine. The more she thought about it, the more her mind spiraled. If something had happened to him... no, she couldn’t let herself think like that. But still, the gnawing question lingered. Why hadn't he shown up? Why hadn't he called?

Y/n sighed deeply, closing her eyes as she curled up on her side. The bed, usually a place of solace, felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Or, to be fair, every night. She just wanted—

“Leaving your window ajar? Bit dangerous in this society,” a familiar voice drawled, smooth yet taunting.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat, and her eyes flew open. She whipped around in her bed, gasping in disbelief. “J!” she cried out, her voice full of relief and joy.

Crouching in her window, Joker looked as mischievous as ever, his signature grin stretching across his face. His sharp eyes glittered as he swung one leg inside, then the other, landing silently on her floor. He stood there, his frame casting a shadow across the room, but there was an undeniable magnetism in his presence. He radiated danger and yet, to her, there was comfort in seeing him, as twisted as that comfort was.

"You missed me, Bunny?" he smirked, straightening up as he sauntered over to her bed. 

Y/n didn’t hesitate. She shot up from her bed, her feet barely touching the floor before she rushed across the room and threw herself into Joker's arms. The moment she felt his grip tighten around her, it was as if the weight she'd been carrying all week lifted. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of him, a strange mix of cologne, smoke, and something undeniably Joker.

“Miss me that much, huh?” he teased, his voice low and amused as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her firmly against him.

Y/n sighed deeply against his chest, a sense of relief flooding through her as she melted into his embrace. The loneliness and emptiness that had weighed her down for days seemed to evaporate the moment he returned. With Joker there, her once dull, lifeless room suddenly felt vibrant and alive again, his mere presence filling the space with an intensity only he could bring.

"Where have you been?" Y/n asked softly, her voice muffled as she kept her face pressed into his chest.

"You know...around," Joker replied casually, his voice as nonchalant as ever.

Despite the vague and careless answer, Y/n found that she didn’t really care. Not right now. All that mattered was that he was here, in her arms again, filling the emptiness she had felt all week.

"And I come bearing gifts," Joker's voice took on a playful edge. He reached behind his back, pulling something out from beneath his coat with a dramatic flourish. In his hand, a bouquet of flowers appeared. Slightly wilted, the petals crushed from being stuffed behind his back, but flowers nonetheless. "Flowers," he declared with a crooked grin.

Y/n couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her as she accepted the bouquet. "A little beaten up, but still lovely. Thank you."

Joker leaned in closer, his smirk deepening. "Had to put them somewhere while I climbed up here. Couldn't exactly carry them in my teeth." He said, baring his stained teeth.

Y/n blinked at him in disbelief, her heart doing a small flip at the thought. "Why in the fuck would you climb up here? I live on the fourth floor!"

Joker shrugged, clearly unfazed. "Keeps me sharp. Plus, I like to keep things...interesting." 

Y/n shook her head, a mixture of amusement and disbelief running through her. Of course, Joker would think scaling a building was a fun way to make an entrance. It was reckless, just like him, but that same unpredictability was what made him so captivating to her.

Y/n carefully placed the flowers on her bedside table, their slightly crumpled petals a reminder of Joker's unconventional affection. She turned back to him, her fingers curling around his wrist as she gently tugged him toward the bed.

Without missing a beat, Joker kicked off his shoes, the movement fluid and practiced, as if he’d done it countless times before. He climbed onto the bed, settling down with a casual ease. Sitting up for a moment, Joker shrugged off his coat, tossing it to the floor, then stretched out his arms, inviting Y/n into his embrace.

Without hesitation, she slipped into his arms, pressing her cheek against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a strange comfort to her, a grounding presence in the chaos he always seemed to carry with him. Joker sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow, his fingers lazily tracing the curve of her back.

"You uhh...haven’t left your dorm in a while, have you, Bunny?" Joker’s voice was casual, but the question was laced with an undertone of curiosity.

Y/n froze for a second, the truth settling heavily in the space between them. She shook her head slowly, not wanting to delve into the reasons why.

Joker tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at her. "Wanna tell J why?" he asked, his tone almost coaxing.

Instead of answering, Y/n only shrugged, burrowing deeper into his chest, as though she could make herself disappear within his arms. The weight of everything she had bottled up, the isolation, the fear, the confusion, it was too much to put into words. All she wanted in that moment was to feel small, safe, and sheltered from the overwhelming reality pressing down on her.

Joker let his fingers gently stroke Y/n’s head, his touch both soothing and reassuring. The room was quiet except for the rhythmic sound of their breathing and the occasional creak of the bed as Joker shifted slightly.

“Come on,” Joker began after a moment, his voice a soft murmur against the silence, “tell J.”

Y/n remained nestled against him, her voice barely a whisper. “I just...I didn’t feel like leaving. Things got complicated, and I didn’t want to risk…I don’t know, making things worse.”

Joker’s expression softened slightly, though his playful smirk remained. “Complicated, huh?”

Y/n nodded against his chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as if it were a lifeline. “Yeah. It’s been hard, trying to make sense of everything. And...I guess I’ve been scared.”

Joker’s hand slid up to cup her cheek, tilting her face up slightly so he could meet her eyes. “Scared of what, Bunny?”

Y/n swallowed hard, feeling the lump in her throat. “Scared of...disappointing you...And of you being angry.”

Joker’s gaze softened further, and he pulled her even closer. “Hey, you don’t need to be scared. Not with me, Doll. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m certainly not gonna hurt you. Not a chance.”

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and lingering worry. “But sometimes, you make me feel like I’m walking a tightrope…Like I can’t breathe.”

Joker’s fingers traced gently along her jawline, his touch tender despite the intensity of his gaze. “I get it. I do. Sometimes I…push too hard, and…” he sighed, rolling his eyes, not wanting to admit it. “It’s not always about what’s best for you. But remember, Bunny, you’re mine. And I don’t just mean that in some possessive sense. I mean it in a way that means I care about you…Even if I don’t always show it the right way.”

She managed a small, appreciative smile. “I know. It’s just hard to balance everything.”

Joker’s eyes softened, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “We’ll find that balance together, yeah? Just you and me on that little tightrope of yours. And maybe, if you’re willing…We can…talk more about what’s been going on. Mhmm?”

Y/n nodded, feeling the warmth of his words and his presence. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to fully relax into his embrace. For now, the world outside seemed far away, and in this moment, it was enough to simply be held by him.

“Will you stay the night? Please?” Y/n asked, her voice soft and pleading as she snuggled closer to him, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt.

Joker’s eyes dropped to her, his expression shifting from his usual playful mask to something softer, yet still tinged with mischief. He raised an eyebrow and gave a theatrical sigh. “What, in this tiny little bed?” he teased, casting an exaggerated glance around the small space.

Y/n’s heart sank slightly, but she maintained her hopeful gaze, her eyes glistening with a mixture of hope and anxiety. “Yes, please. Just tonight.”

Joker’s smirk widened, and he gave a dramatic shrug as if considering the request. “Oh, alright,” he said, with a hint of reluctance. “But only because I’ve missed you too.”

He shifted, making himself more comfortable on the small bed, adjusting his position so that he could hold her more securely. His playful demeanour didn’t fully mask the warmth in his eyes, which softened as he looked at her.

As Y/n settled into the crook of Joker’s arm, her breathing began to even out, the steady rhythm of her chest rising and falling in a peaceful cadence. Joker watched her with a mix of tenderness and fascination, his usual chaotic energy replaced by a rare, serene calm. Her face, softened by sleep, was framed by stray strands of hair that had fallen across her forehead.

He carefully adjusted his position, making sure not to disturb her slumber. With a gentle touch, he reached over to pull the covers up over both of them, tucking it snugly around their bodies. The soft rustling of the fabric was the only sound that filled the quiet room, a stark contrast to the loud chaos of their usual lives.

Joker’s eyes remained fixed on her for a moment longer, taking in the sight of her so serene and vulnerable. The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm light over her face, highlighting the delicate features that had become so familiar to him. He couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh, a rare moment of contentment washing over him as he admired her.

Once he was satisfied that they were comfortably covered, Joker finally allowed himself to relax. He shifted slightly, arranging himself so that he could hold her close, feeling the comforting weight of her against him. With one last glance at her peaceful face, he closed his eyes, letting himself drift off into sleep. 

It was a rare and almost mythical sight. Joker sleeping. Sleep was a luxury he seldom afforded himself, a mere afterthought in the whirlwind of his life. His existence was a constant rush of adrenaline and chaos, where sleep was more of an inconvenience than a necessity. Yet, tonight was different. Tonight, the demands of his chaotic world seemed to dissolve, if only for a brief moment.

As he lay beside Y/n, the darkness of the room enveloped them in a cocoon of calm. The usual sharpness in his features softened in sleep, his furrowed brow easing into an uncharacteristic serenity. The once restless energy that drove him now lay dormant, replaced by a quietude that felt both foreign and oddly comforting.

He allowed himself this rare indulgence, surrendering to the soothing rhythm of Y/n's breathing and the gentle warmth of her presence. For tonight, he set aside the complexities of his world and the incessant ticking of his internal clock. This rare pause from his relentless pursuits, was all for her. 

For his Bunny, he was willing to grant himself this brief escape, allowing the world outside to fade into the background, leaving only the serenity of their shared night.

-

Y/n stirred awake slowly, feeling an unfamiliar warmth around her. Blinking against the soft light shining through the window, she realised she was still tucked in Joker's arms. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm beneath her cheek, the sound of his heartbeat oddly soothing. For a brief moment, everything felt surreal. Joker, the Joker, lay sleeping peacefully beside her. 

She tilted her head slightly to look at him, taking in the sight of his face softened by sleep. The sharp edges of his usual expression were gone, replaced by something almost...human. His arm was wrapped securely around her waist, holding her close as if even in sleep, he wasn’t ready to let her go.

Y/n’s heart swelled with a mix of emotions. Relief, tenderness, and a quiet sense of disbelief. She never expected to wake up like this, cradled in the arms of a man so dangerous and unpredictable, yet, in this moment, he felt like a safe harbour in the storm.

As she shifted slightly to get more comfortable, his grip tightened instinctively, pulling her closer as if he could sense she was awake. A small smile tugged at her lips, and for the first time in a while, she felt a flicker of peace. Being with him might have been turbulent, but in moments like this, when it was just the two of them, the world seemed to pause.

"You're still here," she whispered softly, half to herself.

Joker didn’t stir, still lost in the rare tranquillity of sleep. Y/n snuggled back into his embrace, her body relaxing against him once more, savouring the fleeting moment of calm before reality inevitably caught up with them again.

Y/n gazed up at Joker’s sleeping face, her heart swelling with a strange mix of emotions. There was something captivating about him like this. Vulnerable, peaceful. It was a rare sight, one she had never quite imagined she'd be lucky enough to witness. He looked so different without the tension he carried when he was awake. His sharp features, which usually wore a wicked grin, now seemed softer, almost innocent in the quiet of the morning. Well, they would be, if not for his makeup. 

For a moment, she couldn’t help but think back to a week ago when she had almost seen him without his makeup for the first time. That day, everything had been different. He had been furious. She didn’t wanted the first time seeing his bare face to be like that, so she simply did not look.

But now, in this stillness, Y/n found herself longing to truly see him. His makeup had always been a mask, a barrier between the world and the man underneath. What did he look like when he wasn’t the Joker, when he wasn’t playing the part of Gotham’s most dangerous criminal? She had seen glimpses, but it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t right. She wanted to see him in a way that felt personal, intimate, something shared between just the two of them.

Her hand twitched, tempted to reach up and trace the lines of his face, to wipe away the remnants of his painted mask. She wondered what it would be like to see him with nothing to hide behind, no makeup, no games. Would he let her? Could she ask him? The thought made her pulse quicken, a mixture of curiosity and nervousness rising in her chest.

“Staring at me while I sleep, huh?” he rasped, his voice husky from sleep.

Y/n’s breath hitched as his eyes opened, their familiar intensity returning as they focused on her. His lips curled into a lazy smirk, amusement flickering in his gaze. Y/n blushed, caught in the act. She quickly glanced away but didn’t pull back from his embrace. 

“I just…I’ve never really seen you like this before,” she whispered, her fingers lightly resting on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“Well, don’t get used to this,” Joker said, a teasing edge to his voice as he noticed Y/n’s pout.

Y/n’s eyes remained fixed on his face, captivated despite the conversation. Joker’s brow raised as he caught her intense gaze. “Got a staring problem?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone.

Y/n hesitated, her words tangled in her throat. “I just…” she started, struggling to find the right way to express her feelings.

Joker’s eyes softened slightly, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “It’s the face paint, isn’t it?” he guessed, his tone almost affectionate as he read her with an unsettling accuracy.

Y/n’s heart fluttered, and she nodded, not hesitating. “Yeah,” she admitted softly.

Joker’s smirk widened, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. “You had your chance, remember? But you wouldn’t look at me,” he teased, fake pouting.

Y/n bit her lip, her gaze returning to his. “I didn’t want to…not when you were angry with me,” she admitted. “I didn’t want that to be the first time I saw you. But now…I want to see you.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Joker said with a smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“But satisfaction brought it back?” Y/n ventured, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she searched his face for clues.

Joker leaned in closer, the proximity causing Y/n’s breath to catch in her throat. His gaze lingered on her lips, and she let out a soft gasp, feeling the heat of his presence. “Have I satisfied you yet, Bunny?” he asked, his voice dropping to a seductive murmur.

The air between them crackled with an almost tangible tension, thick with an electric charge that seemed to pulse with every breath. Y/n felt a rush of warmth spreading beneath her skin, a heat that was both exciting and unsettling. Her heart raced in response to the intimacy of their closeness, each beat echoing in her ears. Every subtle shift in Joker's gaze and every brush of his breath against her skin amplified the sensation, making it feel like a live wire against her nerves. The intensity of his presence was overwhelming, stirring a mixture of longing and apprehension that made the moment feel almost unbearable in its potency.

Despite the charged atmosphere, she had to be honest. “Well, no…I want to see your face,” she admitted, breaking the spell of the moment.

Joker’s dramatic eye roll and the click of his tongue were almost theatrical. He pulled back, the playful irritation clear in his expression. 

For a moment, Joker said nothing, just watching her with that unnerving intensity of his. Then, he let out a low chuckle, his thumb brushing along her jawline. “You’re full of surprises, Bunny.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin, this time, it wasn’t lustful, but gentle. “But if you want to see me…you’re gonna have to be ready for what comes with it. Think you can handle that?”

Y/n paused, mulling over Joker's words. What did he mean by that? What was the consequence of seeing him without makeup? Doubts began to creep into her mind. Did she really want this? Was it worth the uncertainty?

Joker noticed the turmoil written all over her face. With a heavy sigh, he reached out and gently patted her head, breaking the spell of her thoughts. “Not today, Bunny,” he said softly.

Y/n nodded, a resigned understanding settling over her. She could wait a little longer.

Joker then slid off the bed, retrieving his coat from the floor and slipping it on. He shoved his feet into his shoes with little care. “Gotta go, Bunny.”

“You just woke up,” Y/n said, confused.

“Well, crime isn’t going to commit itself,” Joker replied, holding his arms up like it was obvious.

Y/n frowned, but Joker just rolled his eyes. “I ain’t never been a saint. Don’t act like that.”

She sighed and sank back into her bed, feeling the emptiness left by his soon to be departure. Joker leaned over her, his face close, but his expression softened.

“I’ll stop by tomorrow, hmm?” he said, pulling his lips back, waiting for her answer.

Y/n managed a small smile and nodded in agreement. Joker responded with his trademark grin, placing a quick, playful peck on her lips before pulling away with a pop.

“Until then, Bunny,” Joker said, his tone light as he strutted to the window.

“You’re not seriously leaving through my window in broad daylight!” Y/n exclaimed, disbelief in her voice.

“Bye bye!” Joker said with a playful wave, completely ignoring her protests as he made his exit.

Y/n scoffed, reflecting on how it was a miracle Joker had never been caught. Hell, it was a surprise she hadn’t been caught up in his world herself. But dwelling on that was pointless.

As she lay in bed, she realized how much Joker’s presence had lifted her spirits. She hadn't felt this good in ages. In fact, she felt an unexpected surge of motivation. Not enough to drag her to her classes, but certainly enough to get out of her room.

Determined to make the most of her newfound energy, Y/n pushed herself off the bed and began getting ready for the day.

-

Sitting in her car, Y/n surprised at how far she’d come. She hadn’t expected her motivation to last her this long, but a sense of satisfaction and excitement bubbled up within her. The day ahead was a blank canvas, she wasn’t sure what she’d do, but with the wads of cash Joker had given her, she was confident she’d find something worthwhile in the city of Gotham.

Turning the key in the ignition, the engine roared to life with a reassuring hum. As she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the streets, the city’s pulse seemed to sync with the beat of her heart. Gotham’s towering buildings and neon lights flashed past her as she drove, a blend of curiosity and anticipation guiding her through the city maze. She was ready to explore, ready to embrace whatever the day had in store.

Or, you know…just take it easy.

Y/n decided to park her car in a quieter part of the city, if that even existed. She wandered towards the waterfront, drawn by the promise of calm against the backdrop of the city’s frenetic pace. The unfamiliar sun cast a warm glow over the water, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of the polluted sea. She found a little ice cream stand nestled on the waterfront, its colourful display tempting her with a variety of flavours. After scanning the options, she chose simple chocolate. Ordering was easy enough, she barely even hesitated with her words. 

With her ice cream in hand, Y/n strolled along the waterfront, savouring each lick of her treat. The rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the shore was soothing, even if the sound was momentarily interrupted by rubbish washing up along with it. 

She watched families and couples enjoying their day, feeling a sense of normalcy and contentment she hadn’t experienced in a while. For a few moments, she let herself be immersed in the simple pleasure of the afternoon, enjoying the sweet taste of freedom and the soothing ambiance of the waterfront.

As Y/n continued to stroll along the waterfront, the initial thrill of her outing began to wane. The gentle breeze and the pleasant scenery no longer held her attention as they had at the start. Instead, a sense of weariness started to creep in. The excitement of walking around Gotham’s and the novelty of her day out were giving way to a quiet longing for the comfort of her own space.

She finished her ice cream, the last few drops of chocolate lingering on her fingers. The sun was beginning its early descent, casting long shadows across the boardwalk and signalling the end of a day well spent. Yet, Y/n found herself feeling more tired than refreshed. The energy that had once drove her spirits was fading, replaced by a growing desire to return to the familiarity and solace of her dorm room.

With a sigh, she turned away from the waterfront and started making her way back to her car. Her steps were slower now, her earlier enthusiasm replaced by a comfortable, if slightly melancholic, fatigue. The dull cityscape blurred into the background as her mind shifted to the thought of sinking into her bed and enjoying the peace of her own space.

As Y/n reached her parked car and began to pull her keys from her pocket, she suddenly felt a heavy pressure on her back. A chilling presence loomed behind her, sending a jolt of fear and anxiety through her entire body.

"Give me the keys," a gravelly voice demanded.

Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced over her shoulder. The dim glow of the streetlights revealed the glint of a handgun, hidden in the man's jacket but now pressed against her back. Trembling, she nodded and, with a shaky hand, retrieved the keys from her pocket. Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowly extended her arm, letting the keys drop into his outstretched hand.

With a rough, demanding grip, the man seized her shoulder and shoved her aside. Y/n stumbled and fell to the ground, her palms scraping against the pavement. The world seemed to blur as panic surged through her veins, her mind racing with shock and fear.

Y/n watched in stunned silence as the man sped away in her car, its engine roaring defiantly as it disappeared down the street. The reality of the situation sank in with a harsh, bitter sting. Her heart pounded as she pushed herself off the ground, her hands shaking as she brushed dirt from her clothes.

“...Fuck,” she said, with a shaky breath.

She stood up and began walking, her steps heavy and sluggish. The streets seemed endless, stretching out before her as she trudged along. With each step, her mind was a whirlpool of thoughts and worries. How was she going to explain this to Joker? The thought of confronting him, of admitting she’d lost his gift, filled her with dread. 

She imagined Joker’s reaction. His anger, his disappointment, the sharp, biting words he might hurl at her. The fear of what he might do to her for failing to keep his gift safe weighed heavily on her shoulders. She’d already been through so much, and the thought of facing his potential wrath was almost too much to bear.

Y/n’s footsteps echoed through the quiet streets as she trudged on, the cold night air biting at her skin. The glow of the streetlights offered little comfort, casting long, eerie shadows that seemed to mock her misfortune. She glanced down, wishing for a miracle or some kind of way to fix the situation before it reached Joker’s ears.

The sense of dread continued to gnaw at her, each step furthering her anxiety. How could she face Joker and tell him that his precious gift was now gone? The thought of his reaction, the potential fallout, was overwhelming. All she wanted was to get home, to crawl into bed, and to forget about the chaos of the night.

-

So much for feeling good. Y/n was restless throughout the night, her nerves frayed and her mind a whirlwind of anxiety. Despite the fleeting sense of fear she had of Joker showing up, sleep eluded her. She had half-expected Joker to storm through her door at any moment, demanding answers about her missing car, but the anticipated confrontation never happened.

As the hours ticked by, the night passed in a blur of fitful tossing and turning. The following day dawned with a heavy weight of dread. Y/n managed to get through the day without a single sign of Joker. Yet, the silence only heightened her apprehension. She knew deep down that he would come eventually, and she would have to face him. The thought of revealing the truth and dealing with the consequences loomed over her like a dark cloud, but she knew she’d have to deal with it.

Right on cue, the dorm door creaked open, and Joker’s voice boomed through the small room. "Honey, I'm home!" His tone was playful, but Y/n couldn't muster a smile.

Sitting on her bed with her legs crossed, she stared down at her hands, sniffling softly. Joker frowned, the door slamming shut with a careless kick as he stepped further inside. 

"Bunny?" he called, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Another sniffle escaped her, and without hesitation, Joker crossed the room, crouching in front of her. Gently, he tilted her chin up with a light touch, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her face was red and blotchy, eyes puffy, and lips swollen from crying. His brows furrowed, and he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning in closer.

"Hey, Bunny...what's with the tears?" His words were casual, but the concern in his voice was unmistakable.

Y/n swallowed, tears still threatening to spill over. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Joker’s eyes narrowed slightly. "What’d you do?" His voice was softer now, but his curiosity was piqued.

"I...I lost my car." The words came out between sobs, her shoulders trembling with the weight of them.

Joker blinked, processing. He leaned back a little, brow arching. "Lost it? What? In a bet or something? Just tell me who, and I’ll get it back. Hell, I can get you a new one if you want." He grinned, trying to brush it off, thinking it couldn’t be that serious.

But Y/n shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "No...some guy stole it. He had a gun, J. He made me give him the keys..." Her voice cracked, and she buried her face in her hands, overwhelmed with guilt and fear.

Joker froze for a second, the lightheartedness vanishing from his expression. He studied her, the anger building beneath the surface, though his tone remained calm. "He had a gun?"

“I’m sorry, J. I didn’t mean to…” Y/n's voice was muffled by her hands as she cried, her body trembling.

Joker's jaw clenched, a dangerous fire flickering in his eyes. Someone threatened his Bunny. Someone had dared to put a gun to her, to take something from her, which ultimately meant taking from him. 

His hands balled into fists at his sides, the knuckles whitening from the sheer force of his anger. It wasn’t the car that mattered, it was the audacity of it all. Someone had made her feel vulnerable, scared, and Joker couldn’t stomach that. His rage simmered, barely contained, but he knew he had to keep it together for her.

Leaning forward, he gently peeled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look up at him. His grip, though firm, was tender in a way that was reserved only for her. “Look at me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous but laced with an unusual gentleness. "This wasn’t your fault. You hear me?"

Y/n nodded weakly, her tear-streaked face still full of guilt.

Joker's thumb brushed away a stray tear from her cheek, his gaze softening for a brief moment. “No one touches what’s mine,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to her. The intensity in his eyes darkened, a promise of vengeance. “I’ll make sure whoever did this regrets ever breathing near you.”

Her lip quivered. "But…"

"No 'but's, Bunny. You did what you had to. They had a gun, you did the smart thing." His words were laced with conviction, his eyes burning with a wild resolve. 

Joker tilted her chin again, this time with a smirk creeping back onto his face. “And when I find this guy, well…” He chuckled darkly. “He’ll be wishing he never woke up this morning.”

Y/n swallowed hard, feeling a mix of comfort and fear at his words. She knew Joker well enough to know that he wasn't bluffing. Whoever had taken her car wouldn’t just lose the car; they'd lose much more.

He leaned closer, his lips grazing her temple, whispering against her skin, “You’re mine, Bunny. And I protect what's mine.”

She nodded again, feeling her pulse quicken under his possessive words. As dangerous as he was, she couldn't deny the sense of safety that came from his presence. The world outside might have been chaos, but in Joker's arms, she felt like nothing could touch her.

"Now," Joker continued, pulling back slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Tell J however much you remember, mhmm?” His smirk widened, and for the first time since the carjacking, Y/n managed a small, shaky smile.

Y/n took a shaky breath, wiping the remnants of tears from her cheeks as she tried to gather her thoughts. “It all happened so fast,” she began, her voice still trembling. “I had just finished walking around and was heading back to my car. It was parked by the waterfront, you know? And...and then this guy came out of nowhere.”

Joker’s eyes narrowed as he listened, already piecing together what little information he could. His patience wasn’t exactly legendary, but when it came to her, he could wait. He needed the details.

“He…he had a gun,” Y/n continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t even notice him at first until he was behind me…and he put the gun to my back. He told me to give him the keys, and I-” She stopped, her voice breaking. “I just handed them over. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Joker’s jaw clenched, but he remained silent, letting her continue.

“He was tall, I think? I didn’t get a good look at his face…he had a hoodie on, dark clothes…But that’s all I remember.” Y/n shook her head, clearly frustrated with herself. “I’m sorry, J. I didn’t see more.”

Joker stroked his chin, eyes narrowing in thought. Tall. Hoodie. Waterfront. It wasn’t much to work with, not nearly as much as he liked. He hated operating blind. But he wasn’t about to let that stop him. He’d figured out worse with less, and for his Bunny, he’d make it work. 

His mind raced, already formulating a plan. He knew the city like the back of his hand, knew the gangs, the small-time crooks, the desperate ones who operated in the shadows. He could already think of a few places to start looking.

Joker exhaled through his nose, a humourless grin forming on his lips as he looked down at Y/n. “Not much, huh? You’d think these idiots would be more creative.” He rubbed her arm, the action strangely soothing despite the edge in his tone. “But don’t worry, Bunny. I’ll figure it out.”

She looked up at him, her eyes full of uncertainty, but there was something else there too. Relief. Relief that he was taking control of the situation. That, in his own chaotic way, he was there for her.

Joker chuckled, his expression dark and predatory. “Oh, I’ll find this guy. And when I do, he’s gonna wish he never crossed paths with us.” His thumb brushed across her cheek, the intensity in his eyes growing. “No one messes with you and gets away with it.”

Y/n nodded, trusting him. Joker always found a way to get what he wanted, and she knew, without a doubt, that whoever had taken her car wasn’t going to have a good day when Joker finally caught up to him.

Joker hopped up off the bed with a sudden burst of energy. “Imma make a quick call, okay, Doll?” He shot her a grin before heading to the window. Just as he reached it, he turned back to her with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “And uh…block your ears,” he added.

Y/n didn’t need any convincing. She pressed her fingers firmly into her ears, muffling the sounds of the room, watching as Joker leaned halfway out the window to make his call. The sight of him there, trying to be all business while hanging out of her dorm window, was almost comical. It was clear he was doing it to keep her from overhearing the conversation, though she wasn’t sure if it was more for her safety or his secrets.

Whatever he was saying, the call didn’t last long. After a minute or two, he pulled the phone from his ear, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He slipped the phone back into his coat pocket and made his way back over to Y/n.

“And now,” he declared dramatically, “I’m all yours.” Without warning, he flopped onto the bed, half-crushing her under his weight, his arms draped lazily around her.

Y/n couldn’t help but giggle at the suddenness of it all, her chest filling with warmth as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding him close. It felt nice, almost normal in a way that contradicted everything about them. But that was what she loved. 

Joker rested his head against her, and for a moment, they simply lay there, the world outside her dorm fading away. In this small, stolen moment, it was just them, and Y/n let herself get lost in that, even if she knew it wouldn’t last forever.

Joker sprawled out across Y/n’s bed, one arm lazily draped around her waist while his other hand absentmindedly twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. Y/n leaned into his touch, letting herself sink into the moment, but a thought nagged at the back of her mind.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke up, her voice quiet but insistent. "You know, J...maybe you should give me some way to contact you."

Joker raised an eyebrow but didn’t turn to look at her. Instead, he continued playing with her hair, his body still relaxed. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that, Bunny?” His voice was playful.

Y/n sighed, shifting a little in his arms so she could look up at him. "I can’t keep sitting around wondering when you’re going to show up next. What if I need you? Or...just want to see you?"

Joker’s fingers paused for a second, and his eyes flicked down to meet hers. “Hmm...that’s cute. Really, it is.” He pulled himself up a bit, propping himself on one elbow, his face closer to hers now. “But here’s the thing, Doll...You can’t have my number. Or anything like that.”

Y/n frowned, confused. “Why not?” She felt like a desperate fling, constantly begging for something more, but never quite getting it. 

Joker’s smirk grew, but his eyes darkened with a touch of seriousness. He leaned in closer, brushing his lips against her ear as he whispered, “Because, Bunny, I can’t risk someone finding out that you’re in contact with me.”

She pulled back slightly, trying to meet his gaze face on. “You think someone would track me down? Just because I can reach you?”

Joker let out a low chuckle, but his expression remained cold. “Not just someone. Everyone. The moment they sniff out a little…connection between us, you’ll be in the spotlight, and trust me...” He paused, trailing his finger lightly down her cheek. “You don’t want that kind of attention. You’d be in a lot more danger than losing a car, sweetheart.”

Y/n’s stomach flipped at his words, her mind racing. He was right, of course. She didn’t want to be linked to the Joker. Not publicly, anyway. But the frustration lingered. 

"I just...hate waiting. Not knowing when I'll see you again."

Joker tilted her chin up gently. "I know, Bunny. But this is how it’s gotta be. You trust me, don’t cha?" His voice was a mix of teasing and sincerity, but she could hear the edge of caution beneath it.

Y/n nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. She did trust him, but it didn’t make the situation any less frustrating. "I trust you...It's just hard."

Joker’s grin returned, a flash of teeth as he pulled her closer. "I’ll pop in when you least expect it, like always. Keep things interesting."

Y/n managed a small smile at that, though part of her still wished she could have some control over when they’d see each other. But deep down, she knew he was right. If anyone found out about her connection to him, her life would spiral into danger even more than it already had.

For now, she had to accept that this was how it would always be unpredictable, chaotic, and entirely on his terms. But somehow, being wrapped up in his arms made it feel a little more bearable.

-

A couple of hours passed, with Joker and Y/n sprawled out on her bed in a comfortable silence. Joker had been unusually calm, his arms wrapped loosely around her, while she rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. She assumed he was thinking, but she liked the think he was relaxing, just a time of peace between them. But this peace couldn’t last forever.

Eventually, Joker stirred, shifting beneath her. “Alright, Bunny,” he muttered, slipping out from her hold. “Time for me to bounce.” 

Y/n propped herself up on her elbows, watching him. She didn’t want him to leave, but she knew better than to say it out loud. “Already?” she asked quietly, though the answer was obvious.

“Got things to do, cars to find,” he replied, tugging on his gloves and smoothing his hair back. “You know how it is.”

She nodded, biting her lip to keep from asking him to stay longer. Joker turned to her with a smirk, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be back soon, Bunny. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

With that, he made his way to her door, throwing it open like he always did. Y/n watched him as he walked, feeling the familiar pit in her stomach as he disappeared into the night, leaving her alone once again.

-

It had been three days since Y/n had last seen Joker, and the absence weighed heavily on her. The first day, she had convinced herself he was just busy, caught up in whatever mischief Gotham demanded of him. But by the second day, she started to feel the creeping sadness and unease. By the third, she couldn't shake the emptiness that lingered in the pit of her stomach. 

Every knock or creak had her hoping it was him, but no such luck. She spent the days moping in her dorm room, feeling the weight of his absence more with each hour that passed.

By the time evening rolled around, her hunger forced her to make a rare trip down to the dining hall. As she lined up for dinner, grabbing a plate and serving herself some food, she felt strangely disconnected. The clatter of cutlery, the murmur of students talking around her, it all seemed distant, as though she was walking through a fog.

That’s when she heard it.

From the TV mounted in the corner of the dining hall, the news anchor’s voice echoed through the room. “In other breaking news, Gotham has been in fear the past few days as a series of crimes linked to the Joker continue to escalate. Authorities are urging citizens to remain vigilant—"

Y/n’s grip on her plate tightened as she froze mid-motion, her heart skipping a beat. Joker. They were talking about him. She glanced over her shoulder at the TV, feeling her chest tighten as the images of destruction flashed across the screen. As Y/n sat in the dining hall, her focus was still on the TV.

"—Police have been interviewing several local gang members who have turned up beaten and bruised over the past few days. The victims, all of whom belong to various underground organisations, have been questioned about an odd line of inquiry from what appears to be the Joker, or those associated with him. Reports indicate that he’s been asking them about a purple Ford Cortina."

Y/n’s fork paused halfway to her mouth, her stomach flipping as she heard the words. A purple Ford Cortina. Her car. She knew he would search for it, but she didn’t really think about what that would entail. 

"Authorities and gang members speculate that the vehicle in question may be linked to illicit activities, possibly connected to the drug trade. Given the Joker's relentless pursuit of this particular car, investigators believe there may be a significant reason behind his interest."

Y/n's breath caught in her throat. So Joker had been trying to track down her car. The realization sent a chill down her spine. He was tearing through Gotham’s underworld, using any means necessary to find it. And if the news was anything to go by, he was leaving a trail of battered bodies in his wake. She could only imagine what Joker might do when he found the guy who actually took it.

Y/n couldn’t help but find it a bit amusing how everyone speculated that Joker’s relentless hunt for the car had to do with drugs, money, or something valuable hidden inside. The authorities and gang members alike were convinced there was a darker motive behind his obsession. But the truth? The Joker was tearing through Gotham's underworld simply because Y/n was upset about losing her car. 

All this fear and bloodshed, and it wasn’t over money or a drug deal gone wrong, it was just because Joker wanted to track down the guy who took her car and make him pay.

-

Y/n was deep in sleep when she felt a shift in the room, a faint sound of the window creaking open, followed by the softest thud against the floor. She stirred, half-aware, when a familiar presence loomed over her bed. Suddenly, she felt fingers gently brushing her cheek, a cold touch that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Bunny," Joker's voice whispered into the darkness.

Her eyes fluttered open, heart racing as she saw his pale face inches from hers, illuminated by the faint light from the street. "J?" she mumbled groggily, rubbing her eyes. 

"Wake up, sweetheart. I’m taking you somewhere." His voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, as always. He crouched next to her, his hand now resting on her shoulder. 

Groggy and disoriented, Y/n sat up in bed, her eyes barely open as she pouted. “J, it’s too late to go out,” she groaned, her voice heavy with sleep.

Joker, unfazed, strode over to the pile of clothes strewn across the floor. He sifted through them with purposeful movements until he pulled out a pair of pants, which he tossed onto the bed. “Get dressed before I have to do it for you,” he said, his tone commanding.

With a reluctant sigh, Y/n tossed off her covers and struggled out of her pajama shorts, wriggling into the track pants Joker had given her. She shuffled over to him, her movements sluggish. Joker crouched down beside her, helping her into socks and shoes with a quick, messy touch.

“I’m taking you to my hideout,” Joker announced, his voice carrying a note of excitement as he tightened her shoelaces.

Y/n’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Huh?!” she exclaimed, her confusion evident.

Ignoring her reaction, Joker finished with her shoes and guided her toward the window. “Let’s go!” he urged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“I’m not climbing out of the fucking window!” Y/n protested, her voice loud with alarm.

With a chuckle, Joker removed her large purple coat from the chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Trust me, Bunny,” he said softly but firmly, “it’ll be worth it. Now, come on.”

Joker's grin widened as he gently but firmly urged Y/n to climb onto his back. “Come on, Bunny, up up!” he said, settling her comfortably. He held her legs around his waist securely, making sure she was steady.

Y/n, her heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and excitement, wrapped her arms around Joker’s neck and closed her eyes tightly. She tried to ignore the dizzying sensation of the height and the rush of cold air as she felt him step out the window.

Joker's movements were smooth and deliberate as he expertly climbed out of the window, his strong grip keeping them both secure. He maneuvered carefully down the side of the building, his confidence evident in every step. The city below looked distant and blurry to Y/n as she held on, her breaths coming in shallow, controlled gasps.

With each passing moment, the steady rhythm of Joker’s descent, combined with his soothing presence, helped to calm Y/n’s nerves. She felt a strange sense of safety despite the precarious situation. 

When they finally reached the ground, Joker gently lowered Y/n to her feet, turning to face her with a triumphant smile. “There we go. Safe and sound,” he said.

Y/n took a deep breath, slowly opening her eyes to the dimly lit streets of Gotham. The adrenaline was still coursing through her veins, but she couldn’t help but smile at the exhilarating escapade.

Joker’s hand found Y/n’s with a firm yet reassuring grip, his gloved fingers wrapping around hers with a sense of purpose. “Come on, Bunny,” he said, leading her through the dimly lit alleyways of Gotham. The city’s nighttime sounds buzzed around them, but Joker's presence made the chaos feel distant and controlled.

They approached a familiar van parked inconspicuously against the shadowy backdrop of Gotham. The van’s dark windows and battered exterior made it blend seamlessly into the night, a stark contrast to the vibrant city lights.

Joker guided Y/n to the sliding door on the side of the van, giving her a gentle nudge to help her step up. “In you go,” he said with a playful wink. Y/n climbed in, her heart still racing from the excitement and the earlier climb.

Inside, the back of the van was surprisingly well-organised. A few cushions and blankets were strewn about, creating a makeshift yet cosy space. Y/n settled onto the soft surface, glancing around with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

“You’ve made it nice in here,” Y/n remarked.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way for my Doll,” Joker replied.

Joker followed her in, sliding the door shut behind him with a quiet click. He turned to face her, his expression a blend of satisfaction and mischief. “Comfortable?” he asked, his tone light and teasing as he took a seat next to her.

Y/n nodded, still processing the unexpected turn of events. “Yeah,” she said, her voice tinged with both awe and amusement.

Joker grinned, leaning back against the wall of the van. “Good.”

“J?” Y/n asked softly.

Joker hummed in response, his gaze fixed on her.

“Why are you taking me to your hideout?” she asked, curiosity laced in her voice.

“Need a little help with some...inquiries,” Joker said vaguely

Y/n sighed, knowing that was all the answer she'd get from him. There was no point in pressing for more. Still, a part of her wasn’t concerned, she trusted him in her own way. She knew Joker would never deliberately put her in danger. At least, not anything she couldn’t handle.

The van ride was shorter than Y/n expected, probably because Joker’s henchman refused to slow the fuck down. The vehicle sped through Gotham's dark streets, swerving around corners with reckless abandon, zooming through redlights. Y/n gripped the seat, her knuckles turning white, while Joker sat unbothered, clearly used to shit driving.

Before she knew it, the van screeched to a halt. The back doors creaked open, and Y/n stepped out, barely keeping balance. 

“Why couldn’t Rocco drive instead,” Y/n muttered to herself.

Her eyes tried to adjust to the dimly lit scene. Large shipping containers loomed in front of them, stacked high and scattered across the docks. Joker’s hideout was tucked between them, barely noticeable among the industrial sprawl.

“Home sweet home,” Joker grinned, helping her stand still.

Joker strode confidently ahead of the group, his long coat billowing behind him as he led Y/n through the maze of shipping containers. She trailed behind, her eyes scanning the dimly lit scene, while his henchmen fell into place around her like silent shadows. There was a tension in the air, but none of it was directed at her.

The people inside Joker's hideout were all armed, weapons strapped to their sides or held casually in their hands. Some wore clown masks, others bare, but their attire was surprisingly basic, unlike their leader. Yet, as Y/n passed through the hall, not a single pair of eyes met hers. No one dared to glance her way, as if her presence was something they had been strictly instructed to ignore.

Joker must’ve said something to them beforehand. The thought made her feel both relieved and a little unnerved. Even in his world of anarchy, he had ensured that she was untouchable here. She quickened her pace to catch up to him as they neared a large, rusted metal door.

Joker pushed open the heavy, rusted metal door with a dramatic flourish, stepping inside and gesturing grandly with both arms. "Ta-da!" he announced with an exaggerated smile, his voice echoing off the steel walls.

Y/n stepped in behind him, her eyes widening at the sight before her. The room was dimly lit, the smell of sweat and blood hanging thick in the air. In the center of the room were three men, each strapped to a chair, their faces swollen and bruised beyond recognition. Blood dripped from their mouths, their clothes torn and stained. They looked barely conscious, heads slumped forward, held up only by the restraints binding them.

"Look at ‘em, Bunny! Didn’t they clean up nice?" Joker said with a maniacal grin, walking up to the men and giving one of them a light tap on the cheek, though the man barely reacted. He turned back to Y/n, watching her carefully, as if expecting a reaction, something between shock and awe.

Y/n, though startled, knew this wasn’t out of the ordinary for Joker. She exhaled quietly, her eyes flicking from Joker to the beaten men and back again.

"These guys," Joker continued, pacing in front of them like he was showing off trophies, "have been asking all the wrong questions... But lucky for them, we’ve got the right answers. Ain't that right, fellas?" His laugh echoed in the room, chillingly casual in contrast to the gruesome display in front of them.

Y/n stood frozen at the entrance of the room, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in the scene before her. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, fingers digging into the fabric of Joker’s coat as her eyes darted between the bloodied men. Her knees felt weak, and a wave of fear and nausea surged through her. She had never been this close to Joker's brutality before, seeing it from afar was one thing, but being here, in the midst of it, was another entirely.

She felt herself shaking, her breath catching in her throat as her mind raced. What was she supposed to do? 

Joker, noticing her reaction, moved over to her, his sharp grin softening into something more comforting. He placed a hand on her shoulder, fingers curling gently as he pulled her closer. 

“Hey, hey... it’s alright, Bunny,” he murmured, his voice unexpectedly soothing despite the horror around them. He tilted her chin up, making her look at him rather than the beaten men. “You’re safe. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Y/n swallowed hard, trying to calm the tremors in her body, but her fear was overwhelming. She couldn’t stop shaking. Joker’s grip tightened, firm but not harsh. His eyes, though gleaming with mischief, held a strange sort of reassurance. He wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her. Not while he was there.

“You recognize any of ‘em?” Joker asked, his voice smooth, but laced with a hint of danger. He gestured lazily to the men in the chairs. “One of these guys…is the prick who took your car, Doll. Which one? Huh? Take your time.”

Y/n’s eyes flicked nervously toward the men, her pulse quickening as she tried to focus, to remember the face of the man who had shoved a gun into her back. Her stomach churned as she scanned each bloodied face, her fear growing by the second. She clenched her hands into fists, trying to still the shaking.

"I-I’m not sure," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but Joker’s fingers on her chin turned her face to meet his gaze again.

"You’ll figure it out, Bunny," Joker said, his grin widening as he stepped back. "I believe in you."

Y/n felt her heart racing as she desperately tried to recall the face of the man who had stolen her car. She scanned the bloodied faces of the three men strapped to the chairs, her mind racing yet blank. The fear gripped her, tightening around her chest like a vice. She hadn’t turned to face her attacker that day, all she had was a fleeting impression. Now, the bruises and welts made it impossible to recognize anyone.

Biting her lip, she fidgeted with her nails, a nervous habit that had developed over the years. Each of her movements was a mixture of anxiety and frustration. She glanced back at Joker, who was now leaning against the wall with an expectant look. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion as she shook her head, silently pleading for an escape.

“You don’t know, Bunny?” he asked, his voice teasing yet tinged with a hint of disappointment. She nodded again, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach.

Joker straightened up. He turned back to the men, clapping his gloved hands together. The sound echoed through the dimly lit room, causing Y/n to jump, startled by the sudden noise. 

“Looks like you’re all gonna face the punishment!” he declared, his tone gleefully ominous.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him approach the trembling figures. Her heart thudded louder in her ears, each beat amplifying the rising tension. “Might wanna turn around, Bunny…” he advised in a low, gravelly voice that sent shivers down her spine.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Y/n spun on her heels, not wanting to witness whatever Joker had planned. But the chilling sounds that erupted behind her were unmistakable. The first scream pierced through the air, raw and filled with terror, and she instinctively shoved her fingers into her ears, desperate to block out the horror unfolding just a few feet away.

The echos of pain reverberated through her body, and she fought against the rising panic within her. Each scream seemed to etch itself into her mind, a haunting reminder of the world Joker inhabited, a world she was still trying to comprehend.

Y/n stood frozen in place, her body trembling uncontrollably as the terrifying screams filled the air. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, blurring her vision and stinging her cheeks. The sounds behind her were a cruel reminder of the darkness that lurked in Joker’s world, a reality she had only glimpsed at before now.

She bit her lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. The warmth of fear flooded through her, wrapping around her like a suffocating blanket. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to disappear from the situation, to escape the horrifying reality unfolding behind her. 

“J…please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound. But the words felt hollo she knew he was lost in his own excitement, reveling in the chaos that he thrived on. 

Y/n’s heart raced, each beat echoing the dread that filled her. She wanted to turn around, to stop him, but she felt paralyzed by fear. The tears began to fall, trailing down her cheeks as she desperately tried to quell the rising tide of panic.

“Please, just stop,” she murmured to herself, hoping that the power of her words would somehow reach Joker, that he would sense her distress and reconsider. But deep down, she feared that he was too far gone, too enveloped in his sadistic joy to listen to her cries for mercy. 

The room seemed to close in on her, the weight of the situation pressing down harder with every agonizing second. She felt so small, so helpless, trapped in a world she didn’t belong to, as tears continued to fall.

As the unsettling sounds of distress echoed through the room, the heavy metal door creaked open, interrupting the violent scene. A figure stepped inside, a tall, muscular man dressed in a dark jacket and jeans, his face marked with the grime of the streets. He hesitated for a moment, eyes darting to the trembling form of Y/n before focusing on Joker, who was still reveling in the fear he had instigated.

“Boss!” the man called out, his voice cutting through the noise. “We got a hit on the car!”

Joker paused mid-motion, turning his head slightly, though the glint in his eyes hadn’t faded. The man who had entered looked nervously at Y/n, noting her shaking form before turning back to Joker, eyes darting between the gruesome scene and his unsettling leader.

Joker’s grip on the nearest man loosened, and he slowly straightened up, a wicked grin spreading across his painted face. He wiped the blood from his gloves, flicking it off to the side as if it was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

“Well, well, Bunny,” Joker drawled, turning his attention away from the bloodied men and back to Y/n, who was still shaking, her eyes filled with tears. He strode over to her, ignoring the mess he’d left behind. “Looks like we found your ride.”

Y/n’s breath hitched as he gently cupped her chin, lifting her tear-streaked face to meet his. “No more tears now, hmm? You’ll get what’s yours.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek before glancing at the man who had brought the news. “Show me.”

Joker reached for her side and gently placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the exit. Y/n's legs felt shaky beneath her, still trembling from the horrors she'd just witnessed, but she followed his lead, her mind clouded with fear and confusion.

"Come on, Bunny. We’re done here," he said softly, though his tone carried an edge that left no room for hesitation.

Y/n felt his hand tighten slightly as they approached the door, his presence offering a strange sense of security in the midst of her unease. The henchmen in the room stepped aside without a word, avoiding eye contact as they always did, heads bowed in silent deference. 

As they walked out, Joker kept his arm steady around her, pulling her closer as they passed through the rusted doors and into the dimly lit hallway. Y/n’s breath felt heavy in her chest, but with Joker leading her, she didn’t dare look back at the screams and chaos they left behind.

Once outside the room, the night air hit her face like a cold slap, grounding her slightly as the noise from the other side of the door faded away. Joker leaned down, whispering into her ear with a teasing smirk, "Told you I’d take care of it, Bunny."

Y/n nodded, still too shaken to speak. Joker helped Y/n into the back of the van with a firm but reassuring grip, and then climbed in after her. Rocco was already behind the wheel, adjusting his mirrors and starting the engine with a smooth, deliberate motion. Y/n could already tell that this ride would be different from the wild, reckless journey that brought them to the docks. Rocco wasn’t the crazy, pedal-to-the-floor type, and the knowledge that he’d drive with some level of sanity brought Y/n an odd sense of comfort after the mess she’d just been through.

Joker settled beside her, stretching out casually like they were heading to a late-night diner rather than retrieving a stolen car. His calmness, while unsettling, made her feel a little more anchored in the moment. The van pulled away from the warehouse slowly, the rhythmic hum of the engine cutting through the tension that lingered in the air.

Y/n glanced over at Joker, who was staring out the window with a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. As they wound through the quiet streets of Gotham, her nerves gradually settled, though a sense of dread still lurked beneath the surface. She knew they were heading toward the location of her stolen car, but what would happen when they got there? She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to find out.

Y/n leaned back against her seat, trying to shake the images of the beaten men from her mind. Joker, however, looked relaxed, his hands drumming lightly against his knee, as if this was just another night for him.

Rocco pulled the van into a slow crawl as they approached the location. Y/n's eyes darted out the window, scanning the area nervously. It was an abandoned lot, scattered with debris and lined with broken streetlights that flickered weakly in the darkness. In the middle of the lot sat her car, the familiar purple Ford Cortina gleaming under a dim light. Too pristine, too untouched, too perfect.

The van came to a gentle stop, and Rocco shifted into park. Y/n’s heart raced. Something wasn’t right. Everything about the scene felt too neat. The car was just sitting there, almost like it had been gift-wrapped and left for them.

Joker sat up, his usual smirk fading as he surveyed the area, eyes narrowing. Y/n swallowed hard. Even she could feel it. It was a setup. A trap, perhaps. The whole thing felt staged, like someone was waiting for them to make the first move. The silence around them was heavy, too heavy for Gotham's rough streets. 

Joker’s fingers drummed against the side of his leg, faster this time, his mind clearly working through possibilities. Without turning his head, he spoke, his voice low. 

“Stay here, Bunny.”

Y/n’s gut twisted as she glanced nervously at him, unsure of what would happen next. Something in her told her this wasn’t just about retrieving a stolen car anymore. 

Joker slipped out of the van with a calmness that contradicted the tension crackling in the air. Rocco stayed in the driver's seat, his eyes shifting to the rearview mirror, making sure Y/n was still there. She felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

From her spot in the van, Y/n could see Joker approach the car with slow, deliberate steps. His silhouette was sharp against the dim light that cast long shadows over the lot. He circled the Cortina, eyes scanning every inch of it like he was expecting something to jump out at him. His movements were careful, precise, like he was reading the scene for any sign of a trap.

Y/n held her breath, her fingers gripping the edge of the seat tightly. She had a bad feeling about this, everything was too still. Her heart pounded in her chest as Joker stopped in front of the car. He turned his head slightly, just enough to catch Rocco’s eye, a silent signal passing between them.

Rocco tensed, gripping the steering wheel. Y/n could feel the shift in the air, the anticipation building as if the whole scene was waiting for someone to spring the trap.

Suddenly, Joker’s hand shot out to open the door of the Cortina, and as if on cue, the sound of tires screeching against asphalt filled the night air. Several black cars surged into the lot from all sides, headlights blinding as they formed a rough circle around the Cortina, and Joker.

Y/n gasped, her fear confirmed. It was a trap.

“Boss!” Rocco yelled, his hand already reaching for a gun stashed under the dashboard. Joker didn’t flinch. Instead, he straightened up, his head tilting with that familiar, unsettling smile curling his lips. The chaos was brewing, but Joker looked like he was about to enjoy the show.

The screeching tires belonged not to gang members or rival thugs, but to police cars. Dozens of them, their lights flashing violently against the dark backdrop. Y/n's breath hitched in her throat as she recognized the unmistakable sirens piercing the tense silence. These weren’t just any vehicles. It was Gotham's Police Force, and they had Joker surrounded.

Joker’s eyes gleamed with twisted delight as the police vehicles formed a barricade around him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t retreat. Instead, he straightened up and flicked a glance toward the flashing lights, his smile widening like this was all part of the plan.

Rocco cursed under his breath, his hands gripping the wheel tighter. "Boss, it's the Gotham MCU," he growled, already reaching for the gun stashed under his seat.

Y/n’s heart was pounding so loudly she thought it might burst out of her chest. She stared at the police cars, her hands trembling as fear overtook her. This was bad, really bad. 

From the distance, officers began spilling out of the vehicles, guns drawn and aimed directly at Joker. They moved like a well-oiled machine, creating a blockade that left no gaps. The realization hit Y/n hard. They had set up a trap, and Joker had walked right into it.

"Step away from the vehicle with your hands up!" one officer shouted through a megaphone, his voice distorted but authoritative.

But Joker? He only laughed. That spine-chilling laugh echoed through the lot, a sound so unsettling that even some of the cops shifted uneasily. Joker turned his head slightly, as if to make sure Y/n was still watching. Then, without a hint of fear, he raised his arms slowly in the air, playing along.

Rocco looked back at Y/n, his face a mixture of worry and anticipation. "Stay low, and don’t move. Got it?" he barked, his voice low and urgent.

Y/n nodded, but inside she was spiraling. Her stomach churned, her pulse raced. How were they going to get out of this?

Joker must have made a subtle hand gesture, quick, nearly imperceptible. But Rocco saw it. He cursed under his breath and reluctantly tucked his gun back under the seat. Y/n glanced between them, confusion swirling in her chest. 

“What…what’s going on?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rocco’s jaw clenched as he turned the key in the ignition. Without another word, the van roared to life. Y/n's confusion deepened, but before she could even process it, Rocco slammed his foot on the gas, and the van jerked forward. 

“Wait!” Y/n gasped, her hands bracing against the seat as the van sped away from the scene.

Her head whipped back, heart hammering in her chest as the distance between them and Joker grew. She could see the police closing in on him, all their focus trained on capturing Gotham’s most notorious criminal. None of them even glanced at the van speeding away. 

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, eyes widening as she watched Joker stand there, calm and collected. The flashing lights, the shouting officers, none of it seemed to faze him. In fact, he was smiling.

Through the haze of panic, Y/n’s vision locked on him as the police neared. And there he was, standing completely still, his gaze never leaving hers. That familiar, wicked grin spread across his face as if he’d orchestrated the whole thing. Like this was just another one of his games.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as the reality of the moment crashed over her. He was letting her go. Letting her escape. But at what cost? 

Her fingers gripped the seat, knuckles turning white as they sped away, the van tearing through the streets of Gotham, leaving Joker to the police.

-

A/N: OoOoOoOooo, J's been caught~ and poor Y/n still don't got her car back :C Thank you for reading this part, and thank you for being patient, I really appreciate everyone 💚 Not too sure when I'll have time to write the next chapter, but we'll see thank you again 🫶

[gh0stly-pages]

Out of Our Minds (Part 1)

Ledger! Joker x f!reader (18+)

CW: just swearing for now :)

Summary: You’re a psychiatrist at Arkham, and have now been assigned to the most recent of Batman’s enemies, the Joker. You’re already barely getting by, but this new patient poses a challenge. If you can get him to show progress he’s getting better, then you might get a raise. If he doesn’t seem to be getting anywhere, then you’ve lost your job. You’re prepared to work extra hard to help him but the Joker is nothing like what you’ve expected. Everyone warns you how he’ll get inside your mind, crawl under your skin.

They might be right.

Next part

Notes: I’m not sure if there’s an audience for this, this is lowkey kinda just guilty pleasure for me, but I hope some other people will enjoy this series :) I’ve always wanted to see a Harley Quinn in the Dark Knight universe, so in this fic, you are Harley (well, similar to her, lol). Obviously there’s no cannon Harley-type character in the Dark Knight trilogy so this is all made up, and I’ve taken bits and pieces from different DC Harley’s, plus their relationship with Joker, so look out for that :) So, just have fun with it, hope you enjoy!

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

Time seems to move slower at Arkham.

You adjust your coat, having barely swiped in just minutes ago but already it feels like hours and you’ve only just gone to the main office space and grabbed a cup of coffee. The coffee tastes disgusting, but you’re running off little sleep, so you down it quickly. Even from the office, you can hear the screams, cries, and rambles of the Arkham patients in the distance. You’ve been working here for two years already and still haven’t grown used to the constant roar of madness. You’re not upset over it though. You’re here to help these people, to help make sure the people in your city of Gotham are well. So, in a way, you welcome the noise. But that doesn’t mean you're fond of it, nor does it mean it lets you sleep.

Most people you talk to (which is very few, considering you’re always working) tend to judge you for choosing Arkham of all places to work. And, you’re honest with them, it certainly wasn’t your first option, but they pay well enough so that you can rent a decent apartment and you’ve quickly grown to enjoy the challenge it poses. It’s the higher-ups and the fear of being fired at any minute that makes the job truly a chore at times. But people will be assholes, and you’ve come to accept that.

When you’re done with your coffee, you toss the cup in the trash, grabbing a folder from out of your bag. It holds all your notes and the files of all the patients you deal with. You’ve got quite a few patients to meet with today, each with their own unique problems, their own unique story. You look over your notes, leaning against a wall when one of your bosses enters the room.

“Hello, y/n,” says Robert Dale, hanging up his coat on a rack to the side of the room. He’s a squat little old man who helps manage the asylum, keeping track of all the psychiatrists. He certainly isn’t the kindest of bosses, and you’re sure he only keeps you around because you’ve learned to just go with whatever the hell he and the other big Arkham bosses say. Sure, you can be easily submissive, but it’s that or the streets. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

You frown. That can’t be good. Everytime Dale talks to you, it’s either to demand, critique, or complain. “Good morning to you too, Mr. Dale,” you mumble.

He takes a deep breath and stuffs his hands in his pockets. “You’ve been watching the news, I presume?”

You nod. Who hasn’t? You live in Gotham, for crying out loud, and there’s almost too much crime to keep track of as of recent. Especially ever since that Batman showed up, some kind of masked hero who you never got the hype over. “Of course.”

“You see all that stuff about…the Joker?”

The Joker. The Clown Prince of Gotham. Chaos incarnated. A rowdy clown criminal facing up against Batman. He had just been caught by the Bat a week ago, and the news had been all over the case, wanting to know where he was sent next. Where he was being held. If he would ever come back… “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“See, he’s been being held up in Blackgate, but he is now officially joining our little…family.” He said the word darkly, snorting. Your breath hitched in your throat. The Joker? “Anyways, he is a bit of a, and I'm sure you know this, tough nut to crack. He arrived here yesterday, in a solitary, high security cell and we’ve been looking for a proper person to… attend to him. We sent in a few of our other psychiatrists as a sort of test, seeing who he fits well with.”

“Right,” you bring yourself to say, even though your whole mouth feels like it’s filled with sand. The Joker. Here. At Arkham. “And?”

He sighs, running a hand through his graying hair. “Every single one of them left that room different. Some were crying, others looked shell shocked. Batman told us Joker was going to be hard to deal with, but we weren’t quite expecting something of this level. He bends the mind, tries to break you. Twists the way you think until you don’t even know who you are. Gets under your skin. So, let's just say, we’re looking for someone strong enough to take on our special little patient.”

You know where this is going, and even when Dale says the words, your mouth still drops. “I’m assigning you to the Joker, Miss l/n. You’ve always been up for a good challenge, and are very good at listening to our orders.”

Right. So I don’t get fired and end up homeless or working for some crooks. “Mr. Dale, I have other patients I need to attend to today and I have no room to fit in-”

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand. “I have already swapped your ten o'clock appointment so you can meet with the Joker. This is very important, Miss l/n, and you wouldn’t want to fail us, would you?”

As easy as you find it to work with your patients, the higher-ups are much harder for you to manage. “No…”

“Then it’s settled, you’ll be meeting with Joker at ten today, every other day, or more if necessary. You’ll file reports after every session on how your patient is doing, and if we see any progress, well, we may just have to raise your salary.”

Now that catches your attention. You didn’t even know a raise was possible. Especially not for you. You’ve been working so hard your whole life for what feels like nothing but now? Now, maybe all that work will finally pay off. “Mr. Dale, thank you. Thank you so much-“

“Don’t get too excited. If our patient doesn’t show any progress, well… we might have to let you go.”

At that, your entire face falls, your shoulders slumping. “What…?”

“Well, we’ve been needing to make a few cuts on psychiatrists and anyone might be subject to getting kicked.” He smiles and pats your shoulder. “But don’t worry, I have full faith in you.”

His words do nothing to soothe you as your heart pounds heavily in your chest. The toughest patient, all your responsibility, and you have to make him better under a certain amount of time or else? Shit. They were practically setting you up for failure. No. No, you can’t think that way. You’ve dealt with tons of patients, and every single time you’ve managed to get good results. This will be the same thing… “It- it’s a wonderful opportunity, thank you. I won’t let you down.”

He laughs and walks off. “I sure hope not.”

___________________________

“I’m here to see the patient.”

The guard looks up at you through his sunglasses and smirks. He uses the gun in his hands to point at you, and you step back. “Ah, so you’re the one they decided on to fix up this lunatic?”

“We don’t refer to them as lunatics, sir. And, yes, I’m Doctor y/n l/n.” Digging into the bag on your shoulder, you pull out your ID and hand it to the guard.

He glances at it once, bored, before grabbing his walkie talkie. “It’s Doctor y/n l/n you’re expecting, correct?”

The garbled voice on the other side responds back. “Correct.”

The guard looks back up at you. “Gimme your bag, please.”

You’re a bit startled, but give him your bag. Already, before even getting to this checkpoint, you’ve been through two whole security checks, and were definitely not expecting another. This Joker guy really is trouble. That just makes you panic even more. Trouble is hard to tame. The guard rummages through the bag a bit before nodding and handing it back, clicking on his walkie talkie again. “Doctor is clear for entry.”

A click noise sounds, and the door opens, leading to yet another room with another door with two more guards standing beside it. You jump as the door behind you clamps shut, and the two guards hardly flinch. The one to the left moves forward, holding something out in his hand. “This is your panic remote. See the green button right there? Press that when you’re done with your session or you need to get out. Got it?”

You grab the remote, looking at it closer. “What about the red button?”

“That’ll set off a gas that’ll knock the Joker out cold.”

Oh. That doesn’t sound good. You’ve dealt with some pretty nasty people but nothing ever this intense, nothing that needed this level of precaution. “Okay… Wait, won’t the gas get to me too?”

The guard shrugs. “Eh, yeah, but you’ll be fine. The doctors will fix you right up.”

You tuck the remote away in your coat pocket. “Right. Thanks…”

The other guard who hasn’t spoken a word until now enters some kind of code into the pad on the door and it swings open. “Good luck, sweetheart.”

The nickname makes you cringe but you step forward and bow your head. “Mhm.”

As soon as you step inside, the door slams closed, and you’re left to face the man everyone has been whispering about.

And there he is, sitting behind a table, looking up at you. The first thing that strikes you is his face, which lacks any makeup, and you don’t know if it shocks you because you’ve only ever seen him with his makeup on or because he appears human. Not quite the monster he’s made up to be. His skin is slightly tanned, his eyes brown and dull, his hair curled and askew down to his neck. Although he doesn’t have his makeup, there’s faded green hair dye still at the tips of his hair. His signature purple coat and suit has been swapped for a straitjacket. You try to look only into his eyes, but instead you flush and look at his mouth. His mouth, gosh. Without the smeared red makeup, you can see his scars so clear, the mangled flesh titled up into a smile on either side of his lips. Whatever caused those was nasty. Always smiling.

Bringing yourself to move, you carry yourself to the table, sitting down in the chair across from him, and you try and pretend your heart isn’t hammering. As you sit down, his eyes trace your everything. It makes you feel like some kind of animal. Is he studying you? Plotting your death? Horrible, but who knows with a man who is all unknowns? You clear your throat. “Uh, hello there, Joker. Can I call you Joker?”

He frowns and licks at his lips, smacking them together. At first, you don’t think he’ll talk, but it just takes him a second. “Well, what else would ya call me?”

You’ve heard him speak before, on the television, in those frightening hostage videos, but it’s more chilling in person, his distinct voice causing you to shudder. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. “R-right. Joker. I’m Doctor y/n l/n. Feel free to call me y/n, though.”

“Y/n,” he says slowly, as if tasting the name on his tongue. You resist shuddering again. “You’re the one they assigned to, ah, fix me up?”

You nod. “That’s me. But please, don’t think of it as fixing you. Think of it as helping you.”

“Help,” he spits out the word. “Whatever ya wanna call it. Sure. What ever happened to those other people they sent to see me the other night? They were all just so fun to play with.”

His words have a lot of bite behind them. Dale warned you about this. He was going to mess with you, and have fun doing it. “I believe they weren’t prepared to attend to you.”

“Awwww, did I hurt their feelings?” His voice is dripping with pure sarcastic sadness. He even feigns a frown. Then he breaks into a wide grin, giggling madly. “Well, if words are gonna hurt them that badly, maybe, uh, they’re in the wrong work field, huh?”

You make sure your face doesn’t move a bit. Play. It. Cool. Besides, progress doesn’t come from backing down. “We all have our strengths. It doesn’t matter what happened to them though, what matters is that I’m here now.”

“They really threw ya to the wolves, Miss l/n.” His tongue traces across his teeth. “Lucky for you, I won’t bite. Yet.”

You try very hard to ignore him. He probably does bite. “Today is gonna be a short meeting. Testing the waters. Now, we’ll be meeting every other day, so don’t feel like you need to open up to me immediately-”

“Me? Open up? If ya wanna open me up, you’re gonna need a big knife.” When your face falls, he leans forward and laughs harshly, a laugh laced with insanity. “Ha! Tough crowd, it seems.”

Already, he’s testing your patience. But you’ve faced worse. Or at least, you’ll pretend you have. “Mr. J, please-”

“Mr. J?” The Joker sits up straighter. “Heh, I like that. Makes me sound, uh, all fancy and stuff.”

“Mr. J,” you say again, this time harsher. “Today, I just want to get to know a bit about who you are. This is our first session so I’m not expecting too much. We don’t have to dive into the crimes, or your past, but I just wanna get to know a bit about you.”

He snorts. “Why?”

“I’m trying to help, Mr. J. I can’t help you if I don’t know… well, you. Not to mention, we have absolutely nothing on you. No files. No previous history. You’re a bit of a mystery.”

“Ah, a mystery.” He licks at his lips a few times before licking at the inside of his cheeks, no doubt tracing along his scars. “And you wanna solve me.”

“No, I just want to learn a bit more.” You reach into your bag and bring out your clipboard and a pen, clicking it once. “Now, where would you like to start? Maybe your childhood? Your job before your crimes?” His face contorts, and his nostrils begin to flare at such personal questions, so you try and tone it down. Before he lunges at me and chokes me to death. “It’s okay, we can start small. What are your interests?”

His shoulders drop a bit. He rocks back and forth in his seat, humming in thought. It’s weird, really, to see him like this. Not blowing something up, or filming himself raming about some kind of new evil plan he has. “Hmmm, well, I like, uh, a good joke every now and again. I like, hm, ah, a good tussle. Blades. TNT.”

You scribble it all down, right with a question mark and a frowny face. None of that sounds promising. “Right…”

“What’s wrong, doll? You seem…” He smiles gleefully. “Upset.” His T’s are pronounced harshly.

Doll. You should definitely correct him, to tell him to call you by your name, but you decide to let it slide. “No, I’m just… taking it all in. So you like weapons. Jokes. Is that how you decided on your name?”

He smacks his lips. “More or less.”

“Okay. Right. And the whole clown thing, your persona-?”

“Persona? Ha! This is aaaallllll me, dollface.”

“Right. So, the clown thing, how’d that come about? Your makeup, what’s the reason for it?” As you say it, your eyes fall to his scars, the way his lips lick along the very edge of them, and when he catches sight of this, he glares.

“Ah ah ah,” he coos darkly. “We won’t be getting into that today.”

You swallow hard. “Okay. It’s fine. One day at a time.”

He nods and leans forward, and it’s like his eyes can see into your very soul. “Ah, enough about me, huh, doll? Tell me about little ol’ you.”

You frown. “We’re not here to talk about me, Mr. J.”

“Oh, you’re not, but I would like to hear a thing or two about the person I'll be spending lots of, uh, personal time with.”

The way he says personal time, with an almost ferociousness to it, makes you break out in goosebumps, and you’re thankful for the coat covering your arms. “Hm, fine. What do you want to know?”

“Oh, ya know, a bit of this, a bit of that.” He tosses his head around. “How’d you end up in a shithole like Arkham?”

You take a deep breath. Does he seriously care to know? Or is he messing with you? Knowing what you know about him, you’re sure it’s the latter. “Well, it’s always been my passion to be a psychiatrist. I love Gotham and I wanna help its people.”

Joker leans back. “Hmmm, you’re one of those little doctors, huh? Wanna get everyone all fixed up so you can feel like a little saint?”

That takes you aback. You resist the urge to glare. Stay calm. You’re trying to help. “No, I don’t want to be a saint. I just want to-“

“Make yourself feel better? Wanna, uh, be able to give yourself a pat on the back and say ‘look at how amazing I am’? Puh-lease. Nobody really wants to help because they’re selfless.” He leans in. “We’re all selfish, every last one of us. So don’t lie. Nobody likes a liar.”

If you were anyone else, you might have wavered. So this is what they meant when they said Joker was a tough case. He had flipped the tables and started trying to analyze you. Well, you were tough enough, and you weren’t going to back down. You look him right in the eye. “You have a very interesting world view, Mr. J. But if I was just doing this for myself, we wouldn’t be seated here today.”

“Oh, but you didn’t choose to be here, they stuck ya in with me.” His eyes widen. “Seems your bosses aren’t too fond of ya, doll. Or are you just so stuck beneath their boots that you didn’t even question them?”

Now he was really reading you. How could he tell? Was he just that good at digging into people, or were you just too much of an open book? Whatever it was, you pushed it aside. Don’t give in. You’re not doing this for your bosses, you’re doing this for you. “You’re very observant. But again, we’re not here to analyze me. We’re here to talk about you.”

He shrugs. “Whatever you wanna say, doll. But don’t worry,” he says, licking his lips, “I’ll figure you out before you even get anywhere with me. In fact, I think I’m already getting a good guess.”

“Please, Mr. J, I’m the psychiatrist here. Now, our session is coming to an end-”

“Pity.”

“-but I have one last question before our session ends.”

“Go ahead, doll.”

“If you were to describe yourself in one word, what would you use?”

“Ha! Easy. Chaos.”

“And, why does this word define you? Why do you want to be chaos? What do you get out of it?”

He shakes his head. “Ah ta ta, that’s more than one question, doll face. Now, before you leave, lemme, uh, ask you the same thing. What word would you use to describe me?”

His question takes you slightly off guard. There were tons of things you could say. Insane. Wild. Crazy. But those would describe the Joker he was outside, the man that fought the Batman. Whoever you were looking at now was clearly more than that. “Intriguing.”

With that, the Joker's face split into a wide smile. “Ah, now that’s a new one. I think I might actually come to enjoy these, ah, little sessions.” He tilts his head. “I expect you’ll be going now?”

You reach into your purse and grab the remote. “Yes, Mr. J. Thank you for your time. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

He’s smiling so wide now, the tips of his scars almost touch his ears. There’s something about his smile. It’s not horrible, not at all. It’s mesmerizing.

“I can’t wait.”

___________________________

That night you can’t go to bed, but not for the same reasons as usual.

Most nights, as you settle down, you’re pulled from sleep by the phantom echoes of the screaming of Arkham patients. Other nights, you’re up for hours thinking of different ways to help your patients. But tonight, you can’t be bothered to think about anyone but the Joker. Dale was right. Already, he’s creeping into your mind, settling beneath your skin. You should be frightened, really, but your mind just wanders with fascination. No, you definitely will not be getting sleep tonight. Instead, you grab your laptop and type in your patient's name. If he won't tell you anything himself, then you’ll get to the bottom of it.

You end up reading about him for hours. Intriguing, indeed.

End notes: see you next time ;)

[k4marina]

too far in || j.r

for that anon that requested this, i like the way you think. ;)

synopsis: just a snippet of your relationship with the joker

warnings: joker (bc he deserves his own warning), sexual/suggestive themes, angst ig, my spelling probably.

fem!reader x joker

you really couldn't pinpoint when or how it started. it's almost as if he'd always been there; by your side in your bed. you knew it was wrong. having these.. relations with gothams most wanted was a sure way of having either gcpd on your front door or batman, and if the time came you hoped it was the former.

tonights no exception either. it's late, way past anyones bedtime. you're in your bed, sleeping after a long day of work when you felt the bed dip. something that always left you mesmerized was how he never made a sound. you'd only know he was there if he wanted it to be known, otherwise he would just blend into the shadows.

no words are exchanged, you don't need too. you both know what he wants and you have not problem giving it to him after all, you want it too.

he slips in you so easily like all the other times. his cut and callused hands sending shivers throughout your body, jagged nails gripping onto your flesh.

his hips are rutting into yours, leaving you breathless. depending on the time of night or on how much energy you both had it was either slow and somewhat meaningful or crude and animalistic, you just couldn't decide which one you'd prefer.

the only sounds he would make would be low groans and pants or the occasional dirty talk or instructions, never being one to make useless chit-chat, "that's it baby, right there," "what a filthy cunt, just taking my cock in" "imagine what people would say if they found out what we were doing."

you on the other hand were left hot and bothered. moaning whenever he'd hit that right spot, whimpering when his nails or sometimes teeth would clamp down on you, whining every time he'd finish and leave you empty.

when you wake up he's never there, but you know that he was by the smears of red and black grease paint on the pillow next to you. you'd push down the hurt you'd feel in your chest. it's okay. it's for the better. anything more or with him and your life is basically ruined.

but you knew, you were far too deep into him.

[love-fictional-ppl]

Heath Ledger’s joker as a bf

Pairings: joker x fem!reader

Warnings: language, joker (he needs his own warning) marijuana, blood, criminal activities🥸 smut, etc.

A/N: requested by my home girl😭🤞 (h/c) is hair color

SFW:

On the occasion he gives you a gift, just remember he didn’t pay for it

Both of you dying your hair together and then getting into a hair dye fight where in the end both of you are covered in green and (h/c)

Will force you to rob a bank with him atleast once

If, IF he showers he will make you join him

He smokes/takes Eddies so going to McDonald’s in the middle of the night is a routine at this point

Nighttime, dancing in the rain in Gotham together

Batman impersonations are your inside joke

Sharing your intrusive thoughts with each other and laughing about it like it’s the most normal thing ever

He will not go to the hospital unless he’s shot really badly so most the time he will have you help clean him up after getting into with Bruce.

If you ask him to do his hair or make up (not clown make up) he might say yes but only after a certain exchange iykyk

Will not tell you his real name until like 8 months into your relationship and he does it in the most random and casual way ever. It makes me giggle so lemme play it out for you😭

You’re sat at the table in the kitchen eating cereal while reading the newspaper, Joker sleeping still or so you thought.

“Jack.”

You jump out of the chair landing on the grown, on your ass. Looking up you see the joker standing in the doorway. You annoyed now half-shout, “Who tf is jack?!”

“Me,” he responds simply, “my name is jack.”

“Oh. Well next time don’t scare me!”

Randomly asks shit like “would you rather your brain in a cockroach’s body or a cockroach’s brain in your body?”

Does not filter himself in public so strangers do get details about your sex life

AND SPEAKING OF WHICH

TIME FOR THE NSFW PART

NSFW:

He definitely is a fan of doggy style, when you do doggy he like to put you in a chokehold

Likes to tie you up

He’s dominant that’s a fact, if you want to top him you gotta plead a little bit

Will ask to try new things a lot

Loves getting head more than giving it I feel like

Likes to cum in you or on your stomach

Overstimulation king 👑

Has a mushroom tip🫥

Tbh gives no fucks about ppl being around like he has fingered you in front of a train full of people

He hates condoms but doesn’t want kids so you better be on the pill or ready for the consequences

Degrades you and call you shit like:

“Slut”

“Whore”

“Cock sleeve”

“Cum dump”

But he also will mix nicer pet names in like:

“Pretty girl”

“Hot stuff”

“Sugar”

“Baby”

“Good lookin’”

He sucks with aftercare ngl

Most he’ll do is bring you water and cuddle a bit

Tbh that’s all I can think of😭😭😭

[j0kers-light]

Chaos I’m begging you I and my sanity need answers! We all know J is a fucking simp but how did he get like this? I doubt he’s the love at first sight type of guy like in general did he have a oh shit I like this girl moment? I need your thoughts

Hey hi my sweet anon! 🖤✨

I’m assuming this is for outside of my series because Joker clearly shows how he developed into a certified simp. SO! I feel this is a head canon I need to fill? Yes? No? Haven’t done this in a while so pardon me 😗 please enjoy. 🥹

Let’s discuss! 👩🏽‍💻

1000% agree with you, Joker is not a love at first sight kind of guy. He actually threatened you the first time you met. Not exactly romantic but moving on 👀

Look in the dictionary and an example of slow burn would be Joker. Just be patient love.. it’s worth it.

It takes him ages just to tolerate you, let alone develop strong romantic feelings, so when it does eventually happen?

Oh girl. It’s so much bigger than The Big Bang.

Joker can be in the midst of a shootout and he just looks up at the ceiling smiling to himself.

“I love that silly girl.”

Everyone side eyes J because he just shot someone in the head while debating which bouquet of flowers you’d like better.

“How many should I steal? A dozen? A thousand? Should I start a garden?”

Normally people are kinder, etc. when they’re in love. Not J. He becomes more unhinged. 🙃

Joker is a monster in love. Every action he does is for you. You are constantly on his mind and there is no other frequency.

Joker has a reason to fight, to maim, to destroy because all the bad he does, you’re waiting at home to forgive him for it.

You shower Joker in your love—blissfully unaware he’s corrupting himself on purpose over and over for this sick form of praise.

You make J feel good. You’re a drug he can’t get enough of.

He knows you’ll kiss his bruises. He knows you’ll wipe away the blood. Joker knows you’ll cup his scarred cheeks and treat him like he’s the victim.

Of course he acts out to get your attention!

He looks forward to getting hurt because his Light is the best nurse ever with your pretty eyes gazing at him or your soft hands making things right.

And when you kiss the pain away??? He’s a sadist for endangering himself just for a kiss.

Joker loves almost getting captured because you cling to him for days never letting go. The sex that comes from those desperate clingy moments..

You’re the only person in the world who cares about Joker so it’s only fair that he’s obsessed with you to return the favor.

It’s toxic, unhealthy, and wrong but Joker cannot help himself. He just 👁️👄👁️ sigh.

Joker does not love you in the same sense that we do, to him it’s a deep devotion, a compulsive need to possess heaven on earth (you) all for himself.

No one else can have you. No one else deserves you, and if we’re being honest, neither does Joker.

But he’ll rather die than live in a world without you.

[misfitgirlwrites]

The Joker Masterlist

I feel like I have enough fics to make this its own separate post, and I'll add the link to the masterlist instead :)

Where else do I write?

Wattpad | Ao3 | Fanfic.net | Quotev

IMPORTANT LINKS

Writing Request Info | Commissions Info | General Masterlist

UPDATED 3/30/24

CW Guide

🔞 | Smut

💀 | Gore

✨️ | Fluff

💔 | Angst

THE JOKER (Heath Ledger)

We'll Laugh Together Masterlist

Til' Death Do Us Part Masterlist (Sequel)

Overprotective!Joker x Reader ✨️

Mistletoe ✨️

Don't Tell Me You're Jealous 🔞

Joker Having A Crush On You/How Would He React ✨️

NSFW Alphabet 🔞

Rainbow Hair ✨️

100 Degree Adventures 🔞

Clumsy Bunny ✨️ | x reader ver.

Ace 💀 ✨️ | x reader ver.

THE JOKER (Jared Leto) [I NO LONGER WRITE/TAKE REQUESTS FOR THIS CHARACTER]

Late Night Inconveniences 💀 ✨️

ARTHUR FLECK

Arthur Fleck/Joker Having A Crush On You/How Would He React ✨️

NSFW Alphabet 🔞

Deep Breaths 💔 ✨️

Arthur with a Touchy-Feely S/O ✨️

JEROME VALESKA

Rain 💔 ✨️ | Ice Cream (Part 2) 💔 ✨️

Speeding Ginger ✨️

Cart Rides & Samples ✨️

Let's Rob A Bank! ✨️

New Year's Destruction ✨️

Jerome with a Cheerful S/O ✨️

Just Picture Them with Their Heads Blown Off! ✨️ | x reader ver.

Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better (Valeska Twins) Part 1 | Part 2 🔞

Until We Meet Again ✨️ | x reader ver.

One More Time 🔞

Height Exceedment ✨️

JEREMIAH VALESKA

Death By Pleasure 🔞

Pre-Spray Jeremiah Having A Crush On You/How Would He React ✨️

You're Mine (Post-Spray Jeremiah) 🔞

Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better (Valeska Twins) Part 1 | Part 2 🔞

Dream Blurb ✨️

By now I've 100% put my focus on other fandoms, but any request for The Joker is welcome ALWAYS

[montimer]

Tdk!Joker x hero!reader hc's

Gn!reader,pretty much yandere

The first time he meets you in gotham. Another dark night, another cruel crime of his about to succeed, until you came in. Saving the hostages before bats.

Lets just say, he is a bit impressed. Neither his goons or his not so friendly nature made you back down.

As your about to go up to him, bats appears and you decide to leave the clown to him.

He of course gets an interest in you. He wants to and will find out more about you.

He lures you to his smaller crimes so he can chat with you.

While chasing him, he still talks as he looks back making sure you are behind him.

The falling in love part happens as he gets more friendly with you. There's just something in you that makes him want to see you more and more. Maybe its your strangely kind nature, or your fighting spirit, perhaps you got a good humor.

But when he tells you a joke and he suddenly hears you giggle, it makes him frown. Not a single person has ever dared to act so freely his way.

He denies the feeling of falling for you. But soon he has to realize it won't go away so easily.

When you save him or decide not to beat him up so bad, he feels somewhat nice. He can't tell, but he loves and hates it at the same time.

He tries to woo you in his own weird ways. Like killing the people who wronged you and hinting at that it was him. Or giving a flower to you. Even giving you his iconic joker card and saying "Call me" while winking.

He'll be staring at you often, just quietly. Or he'll throw in some pick up lines in a middle of a fight. He'll deepen his voice and tries to come as close as he can to your ears so he can seductively whisper into them.

He can become jealous easily. Anyone who he thinks is getting more attention from you than he gets must pay. You belong to him, only to him. Even if you don't know that.

He'll stalk and follow you. Having a weakness is a big no for him but in this case he'll try to ask you first instead of killing his obsession.

He'll kidnap you and have a long talk about why you are here.

After stating hes in love with you and knows almost everything about you, including your identity you feel hopeless.

He let's you have like a week of thinking of what your answer will be. You really thought he wasn't serious when he flirted and give you flowers.

There is really no way out of this so you agree to be with him. He seems pleased with your answer.

"Good dear, i knew you were smart enough not to deny me. You see uh, let our differences not make us part ways. Soon you'll see why i choose you to be mine. I'll let ya go, IF you promise you'll be good..got it?"

[ledgerserious8]

..My Masterlists..

A Fact : Me as fan of heath ledger doesn't mean that i can't write for any another actor but most of this imagines is about him

My Wattpad..

Heath Ledger Imagines :

Break up with Him

Meeting your ex boyfriend

Roses from your lover

In the prison of the joker

Patrick want your heart

The joker fighting with batman

Heath survived because of you

Your boyfriend becomes playful

Joaquin Phoenix Imagines :

Interview with him

Waking up your boyfriend

Your neighbor is arthur

Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) Imagines :

Trust Issues from Bruce

He's Your Home

He's fighting the joker for you

Your boyfriend is so sick

Smut Imagines (soon) :

Put A Love (Patrick Verona)

Birthday Gift (Bruce Wayne)

Note : this post will keep getting updated or edited time by time in the future i will add a lot of characters and actors

Have 4 Nice Day..

[jokeringcutio]

would you ever write for TDK joker? craving something reader/ledger joker - would you ever write for him? maybe she asks to see him without his makeup and she’s totally dazzled by him, tells him how beautiful he is, touches his scars gently (I mean, he is heath ledger with some scars without it, so it tracks😍😅) and he softens

Yes. (Short Drabble follows below:)

Rating: Mature? No Explicit Smut (yet). Just some loveliness. ~*~

You watched from the shadowed corner of the hide-out, the dim light flickering across the Joker's slouched silhouette as he shuffled in. Exhaustion hung on him like one of his tailored jackets, shoulders sagging, his chaotic day etched into every line of his body.

"Rough day?" Your voice cut through the stillness, a blade wrapped in velvet.

He grunted, a non-committal sound that vibrated against the peeling walls. He faced away from you, hands reaching up to smear away the clownish facade with a stained cloth, movements slow and deliberate. The smeared white gave way to tired skin beneath, the green paint-streaked water darkening the basin.

"Chaos reigns," he murmured, the words almost lost as he wiped the last vestige of makeup from around those sleep-deprived eyes, revealing the man beneath the monster.

You stepped closer, the space between you charged with an electric current. The air felt thicker as your gaze traced the contours of his face – yellow teeth, the sallow skin, the embodiment of neglect. No wonder he had never dared to show you his face before, how he kept himself hidden from both you and the rest of the world.

A shame, really. The rest of the world was missing out.

Seeing his unmasked visage, there was something painfully human about him that took your breath away.

"Joker..." It wasn't just a name; it was a revelation, whispered with a reverence that surprised even yourself. "You're beautiful."

The word clung to the damp air, a truth laid bare. You saw him, truly saw him beyond the chaos. Not just the demon that the world portrayed him as, but someone who touched upon the divine. There was beauty in his darkness, a captivating allure in the raw edges of his insanity.

And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, the agent of chaos stood still under your gaze, the world outside the decrepit walls of the hide-out fading into nothingness.

Your hand reached out, tentative as a whisper. Fingertips grazed the jagged landscape of his scars, grotesque and tender all at once. The touch was featherlight, tracing the history written in his flesh, the story of a smile carved by brutality.

He softened.

“Why hide this from me?” The words came out in a breathless whisper.

The wordless exhale of breath, a silent surrender. There, in the dim light, the Joker's eyes flickered with something unnamable. Not joy, not peace. A flicker of humanity amidst the turmoil.

"Liar,” he breathed, the sound a caress against the stillness.

"Beautiful," came the echo of your own voice from moments before, now reflected at you in his voice. His hand lifted, the gesture slow, purposeful. Cold fingertips danced across your cheek, a stark contrast to the warmth blooming within you.

Laughter bubbled up, nervous, shy. Your heart a staccato against ribs. You let him draw you nearer, his grip ghostly on your hand.

He was touching your face with such reverence, studying you with his darkening gaze. It made you feel like jelly under his touch. He had called you beautiful before, but this time, to hear it as an echo of your own words, felt wrong. You were no liar. You’d spoken the truth.

Joker was, without anything to hide behind, beautiful. The most beautiful man you ever saw.

His lips met your palm. Scar tissue, rough and uneven, pressed into your skin. A delicious shiver coiled down your spine, your core pulsing with desire.

"Beautiful," he murmured again, his gaze holding yours captive. And in that look, the world tilted, madness and sanity blurring into a heady mix.

"Joker..." Your voice faltered, drowned in the intensity of his eyes.

"Shh," he silenced you, the sound soft as the brush of moth wings. "Just feel."

And you did. You felt everything.

You trembled, the room's chill a stark contrast to the fever in your veins. "Make love to me," you whispered, the words a loaded gun.

He didn't speak, actions speaking volumes as he moved with a predator's grace. Clothes discarded, whispers of fabric falling to the floor. A hush before the storm.

Your bodies collided, a crash of thunder in the silence. His hands, commanding, insistent, mapped every inch of you, claiming territory. You arched into him, a willing conquest, the world reduced to the space where skin met skin.

Passion flared, raw, and unbridled. Each movement was a sentence in the story you wrote together, punctuated by gasps and moans. The Joker – no longer a specter of chaos but a man ablaze with desire - moved with a singular purpose.

You clawed at the sheets, each breath a plea, each touch a promise. He complied, a give and take that danced on the knife-edge of madness and euphoria.

And then, stillness.

Afterward, you lay entwined, a tangle of limbs and labored breaths. The silence was delicate, a gossamer thread weaving through the aftermath.

"Did you ever imagine..." your voice drifted, a feather on the wind.

"Imagine?" he echoed, his chest rumbling with a low chuckle.

"Us. Like this." Your fingers traced idle patterns on his chest, daring to explore the man beneath the monster.

"Never," he admitted, the word almost lost between you. "Chaos doesn't plan."

"Yet here we are," you mused, the irony not lost on you.

"Here we are," he agreed, his eyes searching yours for a truth you hadn't spoken.

"Will you show me your face more often?" you asked tentatively, seeking his eyes.

"Why would you want that?" The question hung in the air, a thin veneer over deeper inquiries.

"Like I said,"  you whispered. “Beautiful.”

A grin curled his lips, the scars uncurling like the petals of a flower. Gorgeous, your mind provided.

“If your reaction will always be as intense as this, I just might.”

"Good." A simple affirmation, yet it carried the weight of worlds colliding.

"Good," he repeated, tucking you closer to him.

The kiss he placed on top of your head felt like heaven. ~ AN: I haven't been well enough, but once I am, I definitely want to write more for this man. I love his little insane ticks, the licking of his lips, all his mannerisms. Definitely would love to write more about him. But to everyone who didn't get the memo, I am ill (it isn't a flu or a broken leg or something that will go away on its own, it won't go away in a few days, it needs treatment and possibly surgery and time, so keep your fingers crossed that everything will end well so I can write more for all of you lovelies out there.) ♡

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

Old Scars (Part 1)

Ledger!joker x reader

Fem!reader is kidnapped by the joker and his henchmen while just trying to get a moment's reprieve from her boring, soul-destroying job ✨️

Tw: I mean, we all saw TDK, right? I'd say this is on the same level/rating. Kidnapping, violence, mentions of minor characters (not J) being misogynist/threatening SA, reference to past traumatic injury. Beyond this i'm not sure, i'll update these when I write more.

🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏🃏

I stared despairingly at the huge stack of paperwork my line manager had just slapped down on my desk. I sighed and bit the inside of my cheek. None of my male co-workers had to deal with her extra work. This was such bullshit.

"Ah, you are a life saver, (y/n). What would I do without you?"

Her own work, probably, I thought to myself, sighing in exasperation as she left me to my souless cubicle.

By the time i'd finished up, it was getting cold out. After taking a detour to try and stave off the inevitable return to my shitty apartment, I found myself in front of a particularly expensive shop. My feet were aching from the heels my backwards regional manager insisted on the female admin staff wearing and my head hurt from the tight bun my hair was scraped into. His smirk was etched into my brain, as were his vile words on his latest visit.

"You're a very attractive young lady, even with your face like that. Your body makes up for it."

I felt pure rage rising up again at the memory. It was the way he's said it as though he truly believed it was a compliment. The laughter of my coworkers rang in my ears. To them it was all a big joke and I was just too uptight to appreciate it.

What I wouldn't give to see the area manager humbled one day... but that was pure fantasy and I knew it. I wondered what he'd buy with his overinflated christmas bonus this time, while we were all given a meeting to explain why they couldn't justify a minor pay rise to ease the cost of living crisis in Gotham.

The twinkling lights of the high end window displays were a beautiful contrast to the bleary grey outside, and after another hellish day in the purgatory which was the cubicle farm, my heart warmed a little. Everything in the store was definitely well out of my meagre price range, but the inner child in me was drawn in to look at all the pretty evening dresses and jewellery. I shrugged to myself, figuring there's never any harm in window-shopping and a little indulgent fantasy. Even if I could afford any of the opulent dresses, half of them were really ball gowns, and what events was I ever invited to where you'd need a dress like that? No, those sort of parties were for Gotham's social elite - charity fundraisers, galas and that sort of thing, no doubt.

I was half expecting a staff member to immediately spot me in my regular civilian garb and herd me back out of the door like a stray dog but they seemed to be dealing with a particularly difficult customer at the tills. She was waving her arms around and pulling a "do you know who my husband is?".

I stifled a laugh at the image of her, in her ridiculous fur coat shouting frantically and looking like she was about to give herself a anyeurism, if the prominent vein on her forehead was anything to go by. I turned away from her soap operatics and back to the rails of clothes in front of me. I gently touched the fabrics, marvelling at the softness of the richest velvet. Gazing at cool silk like rippling water; nothing like the cheap imitation the rest of us were accustomed to. I got drawn into my own little world imagining who might wear each dress and for what occasion.

"Can I help you with something?"

The voice pulled out the rug on my little escape instantly. I felt anxiety rising in my chest but resolved not to panic completely.

"Oh, I was just browsing..." I said, faking the best dismissive tone I could.

"You're sure, I'd be more than happy to help. Do you want to try anything?" She pressed, a friendly tone rather than the suspicion I had anticipated.

Perhaps my work suit was giving a higher-end impression than I had realised... or maybe she was new here.

"This one is particularly lovely, don't you think?" She gestured to the garment I unknowingly had a hand on, pausing as she'd approached. She wasn't wrong, it was a rich purple, ridiculous really, with layers and layers of tule skirting, but somehow the fine cut and quality of the fabric, and the detailing made it look classy rather than like something out of 'my big fat gypsy wedding'.

When was I ever going to get the chance to try on a literal ball gown? I decided to play into it, after all, I could always say I needed to go away and review my options. They couldn't make me buy it.

"It is lovely," I murmured.

"Do you want to try it on?"

"If it isn't too much trouble..."

Before I knew it, I was being whisked into a dressing room. The shop girl came whirling in with the dress and began unfastening it for me.

"Shoe size?" She asked briskly.

I hurriedly blurted out my answer and she dashed back onto the floor.

I kicked off my uncomfortable work heels and removed my blazer, skirt and scarf. Somehow I felt even more like an imposter standing there in just my undergarments and a pair of tights. I hurriedly pulled the dress up and held it in place. Before I knew it, she'd returned and began fastening me up at the back.

I gasped, both from the air being pushed out of my lungs as she cinched the hidden corsetry, and in awe at what I saw in the mirror. I had never had particularly wonderful self-image, but since the accident, I'd really shrunk into the background. I had always been shy, but i'd become a total wallflower these days. I hated the public-facing parts of my job - if it was telephone or email correspondence, people couldn't react in their myriad shitty ways to my facial scarring, but sometimes I was on front desk duty. Those were the worst days for me.

She made a minor adjustment to my hair, pulling a few strands loose around my face. To my surprise, she hesitated as she saw my scars up close, but didn't recoil, or pull more hair out to try and hide them. Her delicate fingers lingered for a moment, hovering above where my eyebrow was split into three by the forks of red lightning which were still deeply scored into my skin. I had mostly made my peace with it, but it was other peoples' reactions to my face that caused me the most pain. The grimaces, the staring, looking startled, regarding me with pity, strangers asking me what happened, it could all just be too damn much some days. It was a rare and beautiful thing to have someone not react negatively in some way.

I knew I was lucky to still be in the land of the living, and that I was in remarkable shape considering what happened that day, but it had left an inescapable mark. I anxiously ran my fingers over my temple, over the metal plate holding my skull together somewhere beneath the skin. She pulled her own hand back away slowly.

"You look beautiful, miss," she smiled with a genuine warmth that made me begin to believe it. It seemed as though she could sense my sudden swell of insecurity.

The shop girl was young, couldn't be more than sevetneen or eighteen, and I prayed that she somehow retained her gentleness in a city as ugly as Gotham.

"Thank you," I said, tearing up a little.

The dress itself was surprisingly lightweight and not like some kind of Victorian horror complete with a hoop skirt. Instead, it looked quite modern, and had a lot of volume in the skirt due to the layers of tulle fabric, which meant that you could still dance with ease. I did a little twirl for good measure, watching how it flowed and moved around my form. The shop girl smiled at my childlike delight.

Unfortunately, my elation was shattered in an instant. A chorus of screams and panicked shouts, followed by a spray of gunfire hit us like a slap to the face. The shop girl's eyes widened in confusion and panic, and I grasped onto her arm to steady myself. We strained our ears, trying to make out what exactly was happening. My brain was struggling to make the jump from the moment I had just been experiencing to the very real danger we were now thrust into.

After a couple of agonising seconds, there was another round of shots, and I heard a gruff male voice shout;

"Everybody get down!"

"Try to stay calm," I whispered, my own voice shaking.

I herded us into the corner of the booth and desperately gestured for her to undo the corset, not wanting to have to run for my life in the stupid dress. I could hear crashing and footsteps, as though the place was being ransacked and bit the inside of my cheek as the girl shakily tried to loosen the cord for me.

"Check in the back, we don't want anyone calling the cops!" came a voice which sounded unsettlingly close by.

Suddenly, someone burst through the door into the dressing room. We froze, praying whoever it was, wouldn't round the corner, but sadly it was too late. The scraping metallic sound of the curtains of each booth being flung aside echoed around the room. I counted each one, feeling as though my heart had stopped beating altogether, sick with anticipation. They were going left to right, and would reach us soon enough.

The curtain to our booth was torn to the side, and an enormous man stood in the light. The shop girl let out a yelp of terror as she huddled behind me with her head in her hands.

"Found two hideaways!" He yelled out, lurching forward to grab at us.

In a blind panic, my body blocking him from the terrified girl behind me, I kicked and struck out like a feral street cat stuck in a trap. I got a few solid kicks in but was ultimately not match for the man towering over us.

"Quit struggling you stupid bitch," he spat, striking me across the face.

Dazed, and with my eye stinging already, I felt another pair of hands grasp me and haul me out into the open. The barrel of a gun was quickly jammed into the small of my back.

"Stop causing trouble if you want to live," he hissed.

A third figure appeared and roughly forced the girl to her feet as well.

"This one looks so scared she might piss herself," he chuckled.

"Leave her the fuck alone," I muttered through gritted teeth.

"Ooo, you got a mouth on you, huh, rich girl?" Said the one holding me at gunpoint.

"Mm the boss ain't gonna like that, maybe we should gag her," one of his companions snorted.

"Nah, leave it. I wanna see what he does if she gives him any back talk," crowed the third one.

They marched us out onto the marble of the shop floor. Both shoes had come off the moment i'd started to struggle against our attackers and the tiling felt cold as ice beneath my unsteady feet. I saw that there were three other men holding up the cashiers and the handful of customers as they huddled together in one corner.

"Look what we found in the back," announced the biggest of the three men, shoving us forward.

It was only then that I noticed everyone's attention seemed to be drawn to one man, a man who I couldn't yet see, on account of him facing away from us as he nonchalantly rifled through the nearest rack of clothing.

He was a fairly tall man, perhaps a little over six feet, wearing a long coat. It was well in need of a wash, covered in dirt and ashy, yet still obviously purple in colour - though perhaps not the vibrant purple it once was. His hair could best be described as messy; a straggly mop of green waves, with his natural brown hair showing through at the roots and in patches. His body language was odd, the way he held himself, with his shoulders hunched, unsettled me.

As he turned around, to see what his henchmen had brought in, I felt a pang of total despair. I recognised his streaky painted face from a recent news broadcast, and I knew instantly that we were in deep trouble. This was the man they called 'the joker'. I could hear the poor shop girl sobbing behind me somewhere, barely hiding her sheer terror.

"Ah more guests for our little party," he exclaimed, his voice and intonation seeming as erratic as his physical movements.

"What you want us to do with them, boss?" Grunted the shorter goon to my left.

"Put them with the others," he gestured, stalking forward.

I turned to watch as he approached the shop girl, my heart in my throat.

"And who do we have here?" He asked, in a tone mimicking gentleness, which was even more unsettling than his usual, more sinister way of talking.

"S-sarah," she choked out between sobs.

"S-sarah? What's wrong s-sarah? Are you s-scared?" He cooed, practically circling her like a big cat.

I felt sick watching him toy with her, and anger began to rise in my chest. Sarah nodded defeatedly.

"Please don't hurt me," she whimpered, unable to look him in the eyes.

"Oh now why would you think we are gonna do that?" He exclaimed.

She didn't seem to know how to answer.

"Just do everything we ask, and some of you will live," he grinned patting her on the head, "put her with the rest," he gestured dramatically to the others in the corner.

His goons did as he asked and shifted her to where the others were cowering in the corner. I bit my tongue as his attention now shifted to me.

"My my, what a pretty dress, I love the colour," he purred, barely three strides away from me now.

I said nothing, hoping he would somehow just lose interest. There was still the largest goon stood beside me, pistol jammed into my lower spine so I didn't want to antagonise either of them.

He got close enough to reach out and touch me, pulling off one of his leather gloves with his teeth. The red painted smile, already smeared and smudged, left its mark on his finger tips with the clumsiness of his action. I was trying very hard to keep a steady breath, refusing to panic as I knew it would only worsen my situation.

"What's the matter? Are you shy?" He asked, that fake empathetic tone creeping in again.

"No, I just don't find that a hostage situation lends itself to free and easy conversation," I snapped back, unable to suppress my anger fully.

He tilted his head to the side, a glint in his dark brown eyes as they searched my face, scanning, analysing. In defiance, I stared right back.

In my struggle with his henchmen, my face had become half obscured by the hair which had come loose from my bun, and my hands being behind my back, I had not been able to move it out of the way.

Suddenly breaking his stillness, he reached inside his coat pocket and withdrew a knife. The switch blade swung open with a characteristic clack. I bit my tongue even harder to try and subdue my panic.

He reached out his ungloved hand to rougly grasp my face. Everything within me was screaming to struggle free, to run for the hills, but I was stuck. I'd be shot down before I made it two steps, I knew that.

"You are beautiful," he mused, " tell me, does this," he moved the knife barely an inch from my face, "does this, scare you?"

I grimaced, unable to stop myself from recoiling at his skin touching my own.

"Do you ever wonder what life is like for the ugly?" He asked, flatly.

Undeterred by my shrinking away from his touch, he roughly used his fingers to comb my fallen hair back away from my face. Once the curtain of hair was lifted, my scars were revealed, and his face took on a curious, unreadable riot of emotion for a split-second.

"What's the matter, am I not as beautiful as you thought?" I muttered sarcastically, wanting to pre-empt his inevitable mockery.

He clearly liked to pick people apart, to try and tap into their biggest fears, so it seemed a sure thing that he would have plenty to say about my face. This only made me all the more dumbfounded when he put away the knife and his grasp on my face melted into something altogether tender.

His fingertips gently brushed over the deep valleys of my old wounds as though he was trying to read my story. I felt him follow the fork from my hairline at my temple all the way down, bridging my eye, down my cheek to the point mid way along the lefthand side of my jaw where it ended. As he did so, I saw for the first time up close his own grisly scars which formed a sort of permanent smile. The makeup he applied over the top made it harder to see from afar just how extensive they were. I knew from my own experience that the wounds had been more than skin deep, into deep muscle tissue. You could tell by how raised and pitted they were.

The man holding me at gunpoint seemed not to have picked up on this sudden change of pace, as he had plenty to say, even if the joker didn't.

"I shoulda warned you, she's a butterface," he chuckled, "you should do the other side to match, I already made a start," he gestured to the split eyebrow and puffy eye he'd given me on my good side.

The joker's body language rapidly changed again. I felt him tense up, even in his fingers against my cheek. It was as though every fibre in his body was taught suddenly, like he was a rubber band about to snap. His eyes seemed to darken, his irises almost like black pools against the black paint encircling them. I was suddenly very afraid.

He looked down at my face with an air of detachement, his tongue flicking against the inner corner of his lip.

"Would you excuse me for a second, doll?" He grinned, before his smile dropped flat again the moment he straightened up to full height.

"Give me the gun," he comanded of his goon.

"But boss..." the burly man protested, before removing it from my back and reluctantly handing it over.

There was a deafening crack and the smell of gunpowder filled my nostrils as my ears rang. Some of the hostages cried out in fear and for a moment I thought he must have shot me. I stumbled on the stupid dress, falling to the floor with a crash, dazed, my ears still ringing as I rolled onto my side, preparing for my seemingly imminent death.

Unexpectedly, my vision began to clear and the ringing dimmed down enough that I could try to collect my thoughts. I became aware of another figure in front of me on the floor. Someone was roughly pulling me upwards, trying to get me back on my feet.

"Up you get!"

Suddenly, I managed to re-engage my muscles enough to stand, swaying on legs that felt like jelly.

"There you go, see? You're fine," came a low voice to my left, practically right into my ear. I blinked hard as I began to make sense of what had just happened.

The joker shifted so that he was stood in front of me again, and gripped a hand under my jaw so that he could look me in the face. He turned my somewhat vacant face this way and that, as though he was checking I was still in there.

"Whoops! Probably should've told you to stick your fingers in your ears," he wheezed with laughter, releasing my face and waving the gun around casually.

My lingering confusion was cleared up when I realised the other figure on the floor was his own man. The others looked on, some unfased, some clearly very uncomfortable at this sudden decision to remove him from the equation entirely. He had shot him point blank, I couldn't bring myself to believe that it was in reaction to his insults. Surely this was just some kind of mind game going far beyond my comprehension... I didn't feel reasurred, I definitely didn't feel flattered, if anything it just showed the true unpredictability of the psychopath in front of me.

"Right, now that minor... detour is over, I want you all to stay calm, while we execute out little plan," he comanded, gesturing to the hostages.

Two of his men forced grenades into peoples shaking hands, pulling the pins so that they were forced to hold on to them, or risk them detonating. They produced a roll of duct tape and wound it around each pair of hands, so there was no chance of them tossing the grenades away from the group either. The others continued to stuff duffle bags full with the cash from the registers, and the jewellery from the display cases. I cursed the slow response time of the GCPD, although there was never a gurantee that their arrival wouldn't cause more of a bloodbath, since so many of them liked to shoot first and ask questions later. They had far too lenient of a threshold for 'collateral damage'.

I was expecting to be forcibly handed my own grenade, but instead the joker gestured to me. The way in which he waved me over was completely antithetical to the situation unfolding around us; it was so casual, as though we were long-time friends. Not seeing another choice, I gingerly approached him, and he, losing patience, roughly grabbed me by the arm and yanked me closer to him.

"These lovely people can stay here, but, uh, you..." he lingered on the word looking me up and down, as he taped my hands together in front of my body, "you, are coming along for the ride".

"Why?!" Was all I managed to get out as he shoved me roughly toward the front of the store.

He laughed, sending a fresh chill down my spine.

"Well, we have an opening, consider yourself the newest member of our operation," he said in a congratulatory tone.

Before I could respond at all, my head reeling in total panic, I was being tugged out of the door with my arms feeling like they were going to pop out of the sockets.