#ledger!joker fanfic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harlesluvsyou · 6 months ago

Text

🃏─────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

#ledger joker smut #heath ledger joker #dc joker #joker x reader #joker smut #dc comics #heath ledger #joker x y/n #joker x you #smut #dc smut #lemon #ledger joker x reader #ledger!joker #fanfic #batman #writing

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anitalenia · 6 months ago

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. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. 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 ☺️)

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butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 3 months ago

Text

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 🫶

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

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misfitgirlwrites · 9 months ago

Text

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

#joker x reader #the joker x reader #jerome x reader #jerome imagine #jerome valeska x reader #jeremiah valeska x reader #joker fanfiction #the joker fanfiction #joker x you #ledger joker x reader #leto joker x reader #jared leto joker #heath ledger joker #joker fandom #dc fanfic #the dark knight #suicide squad #gotham #gotham x reader

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gh0stly-pages · 2 months ago

Text

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 ;)

#dc joker #joker x reader #L! joker x reader #ledger joker x reader #heath ledger joker #ledger joker #dark knight joker #dark knight joker x reader #Heath ledger joker x reader #dark knight #dark knight fanfic

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j0kers-light · 2 months ago

Note

Hey light! I've had this scenario floating around my brain I thought I'd share. So Joker was having a really rough week and his mood swings were horrendous. Plans he'd spent weeks on were ruined and didn't go well at all. His henchmen were more annoying and tiresome than usual. One day he breaks down, curls up in bed, and has a good cry, thinking he was home alone. Y/n comes home and catches him but decides not to let him see her because it would embarrass him and make him feel way worse. She just watches in silence from afar.

This is probably wayyy out of character but I love it when J gets to show emotion poor guy 🥺

His Lighthouse: Mood Swings (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Mood Swings - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER UPDATE!

Hey hi anon!! 🖤✨

I haven’t been called Light in a while, almost forgot that's me lol 😭😭This ask is definitely wayyyyy out of character however have no fear, Chaos is here! I can always make something work. Here's something short and sweet treat to munch on while I work on the chapter updates! I hope you enjoy anon!

If you wish to be a part of the His Lighthouse taglist, (or His Angel) do let me know via comment, ask, or a quick direct message! 🖤✨

Nothing was going as he planned. It was one thing after another.

The plans he spent ages on perfecting were ruined, tensions were at an all time high, and to make matters worse, his goons were screwing up left and right.

Normally Joker would have killed any signs of weakness, but he couldn’t get rid of his entire payroll. How was it possible that everyone was annoying? Even Frost wasn’t off the hook. At least he had the decency to acknowledge his mistakes and apologize.

No one else did and that irked J even more. Either everyone was an idiot, or the universe had it out for him.

Honestly, it could be both. It was turning out to be a really rough week with no end in sight.

There was some hope when a revised plan was going well; however, it was quickly ruined by none other than Batman. Joker could not get ahead. He was this close to pulling his hair.

He had to get away before his demons started airing the place out.

The whispers were getting louder and louder. ‘Stab him, strangle them...’ and his fingers itched to obey.. until he saw your disapproving face appear in his mind.

His Light would be devastated to find out his no killing streak reverted back to zero. He was doing so well too!

For your sake, Joker managed to curb his urges, but after one of his goons screwed up and almost leaked the main hideout’s location online, enough was enough.

Joker could not handle anymore. He forcibly removed himself from the situation with a clear destination in mind: your penthouse. He sought out your peaceful bubble, perhaps you could turn his bad mood back around. Joker had to get away before he did who knows what.

And just Joker’s luck, his misfortunes followed him home. He was convinced he was cursed because this week was officially the worst.

He struggled to open your front door (of all days the key would get stuck and that was after dropping them) he felt like a raging bull. Joker saw red and he needed an outlet to purge this negative energy into. He wouldn’t dare place it on you.

No, he needed to be alone to sort this out. He felt a headache building and strangely enough, his eyes were tingling. Joker refused to believe he was going to cry.

No matter how horrendous his week was, Joker was not a crier. He refused to be weak in front of anyone and that included you.

That thought made him pause in the foyer. Where were you anyways?

He called out your name—only for silence to echo back. Of all the days you weren’t home.

J didn’t know if this were a good or a bad thing. He was glad you didn’t see him like this and yet, he kinda wished you were here to educate him on what to do.

You were aptly named his lighthouse for your skills in leading out of the darkness. And right now, it was so dark, Joker couldn’t see the end of the tunnel. His mind was fighting against him and his emotions were getting the better of him. He didn’t feel like himself.

He kicked his shoes off and ran a hand through his green tresses.

Your penthouse was pristine, a big burst of color and steeped with a whimsical flare.

A candle burned safely in a votive nearby and its soothing scent went completely over Joker’s head. He was just too far gone for the little things to calm him down. It would take a herculean effort to get him back sane.. at least back to his normal sane self.

You always demanded cleanliness and order. Everything had a place and right now, Joker felt like he didn’t belong. He considered trashing the place. The thought was too tempting to pass up.

As much as Joker told himself to behave, he stomped his way down the hall, breaking anything his hands could get a hold of.

Once he entered the bedroom, he snatched a pillow off the bed and screamed into it. He remembered you saying once that it was a great way to relieve stress, but he still felt the same afterwards. Did he somehow do it wrong?

His clown makeup was smudged all over the case, and it got his mind thinking. Yelling into a pillow was stupid. He quickly tore it into shreds.

The imported feathers floated in the air, and they provoked his inner desire to destroy more. He knew you would be angry.

Well touch luck, Joker was angry too.

The other pillows suffered the same fate as Joker tore through the room like a tornado.

He would suffer the consequences of his actions later, each tear, every crack, satisfied the demons screaming in his head. A little broken furniture was better than a pile of dead bodies. He hoped you would understand.

His rampage went on until he was out of breath and was slowly coming to his senses.

Sadly, Joker was still as angry as before. Nothing was working! Joker kicked over the decorative ottoman before belly flopping onto the bed.

Surprisingly, it survived his initial rage and despite his better judgement, Joker let out a gut wrenching yell that ended in a rare sob.

Joker thought he was stronger than this. He royally failed for letting his emotions get the better of him. This week really took a toll on him, and he had exhausted every method to calm down. All except one.

Joker was powerless against the sudden wave of sleepiness taking him under after his rare show of emotions.

He clung to the last pillow that smelled of you as you watched on from the doorway.

Your poor clown was hurting.

You weren’t ignorant to the levels of stress Joker was going through this week. His nights were longer, his tolerance weakened to the point he almost snapped at you a few times.

Nothing ever went Joker’s way with the constant perfection he demanded for his criminal heists. He put too many expectations on himself and his goons.

No one was perfect, case in point, you watched helplessly as Joker broke down. You would worry about cleaning up later. Your heart went out to Joker, who was so far removed from human emotions that he didn’t know he was having a meltdown.

He didn’t even notice you coming home, he was so overwhelmed.

He acted like a wounded animal, lashing out while on the verge of tears. Have you ever seen Joker cry before? The details didn’t matter.

You didn't dare to confront him during this rare lapse of character. He would be embarrassed and lash out, thus making things worse.

You wisely waited in the shadows. When Joker was down for the count, you stepped into the bedroom to offer your silent support.

You set your purse down and sighed at the mess Joker left behind before climbing into bed. J flinched in his sleep when you reached out for him but he slowly relaxed when his subconscious realized it was you.

His Light was finally here to help whatever was ailing him.

You cooed softly when Joker tightened his grip on you as his breathing picked up. You didn’t want him waking up.

Right now, he needed all the rest he could get. He was like a toddler all tuckered out after a tantrum. You let him sleep on your chest as you raked your hands through his green tresses.

And when Joker woke up hours later in your arms, you simply smiled at him and wiped the dried tears from his cheeks. “You feeling better, J?”

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happy74827 · 5 months ago

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Writing? ❌

Editing your favorite Heath Ledger character after watching a movie with him in it? ✅

Song: Sydney Sweeney — Ken Carson

Movie: The Dark Knight (2008)

Character: The Joker

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ladypups · 10 months ago

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Competitive Love

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

: ̗̀➛ Joker x villain!Reader

CW: obsessive joker, stalker4stalker, m*rder/harmful topics, degrading Batman, fluff;

He thought you two were competing for the spotlight. Competing for his attention… Bruce was dumber than he looked. He thought blowing people’s heads off was a signal of someone trying to get his attention. For the Joker, sure it was, but for you.. You just really wanted to annoy the bat.

The Gotham moonlight illuminated on your face as you taunted the masked man. He could hear your mind-numbing voice, just couldn’t see you. It made him quite angry. “You’re an angry man aren’t you?..” Your voice echoed through the street. “Let go once in a while..” A chuckle added onto your sentence.

“You’re just like him.” The Bat uttered. You seemed to know who he was talking about. An idol of yours, the person he thought was your competition. “Is that a good thing, or bad thing?” You spoke softly, finally meeting his gaze, emerging from the shadows.

“Are you really asking that question?” He looked at you, squinting his eyes. You shrugged your shoulders and the sounds of your footsteps echoed. “Theres no such thing as a dumb question, right?” Your head cocked to the side. A smirk plastered on your face, and he absolutely hated it.

He hated it so much that his fist had to come in contact with your face. Your head jerked back and your feet stumbled on the ground. You touched your bleeding lip, smearing the blood on your lips. “Am I making you mad?” You asked, your gaze focused on his eyes.

The Clown Prince of Crime had eyes for you. His goons would show him the chaos you caused to this city whenever they found new information about you. Seeing yours and his face plastered next to each other on the news always made him grin widely.

Sure, you felt the same exact way. Before you stepped into the spotlight, you were watching the news each night seeing what he did to Gotham that day.

He made sure his goons always had an eye on you. He knew where you were at all times, and you always knew where he was. You two always planned to crash where the other was going, the bat absolutely hated it. He could barely deal with 1 Joker, he couldn’t deal with 2.

“C’mon.. Hit me like you mean it!” You said, shouting at the vigilante. “You don’t want to, do you?.. You know he’s going to show up.” He growled at you. His posture adjusted and he started to leave. “Now that I mentioned him, you’re leaving? You’re a pathetic hero. If you’re just gonna walk away, should Gotham even trust you to protect them?” He ignored you, or at least tried to.

Clapping could be heard in the distance, echoing through the alleyways. You could hear his laughter, the sounds of his goons laughing too. “About time you joined the party.” “Oh I’ve been watching the show for a while..”

“You adore me that much, huh?” He chuckled and walked closer, staring into your eyes. He grabbed your chin, making you look at him (like you already weren’t (ｰｰ;)) before wrapping his other arm around your waist.

“I think you already know that answer.” He said, adding a chuckle onto his sentence. You wrapped your arms around his neck, one hand messing with his hair. You could hear one of your female henchmen in the distance whisper-screaming, “It’s about to happen!!”

You grabbed the back of his head and pulled his lips into yours, his grease paint smearing all over your lips. You felt his hands travel up your back into your hair, before he dipped you into another kiss..

Finally, you knew what his lips felt like. His scars felt nice, felt comforting.. Your lips separated from each other and you felt lovestruck, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” He stated and you looked at him with a smile.

“I know.”

#joker x reader #joker x you #joker x y/n #heath ledger joker #Heath ledger joker x reader #the dark knight #batman #x reader #fanfic #ladypups

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into-crazy · 2 years ago

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nights like this

Ledger!Joker x Reader drabble

Summary: You climb into bed with J for some snuggles.

Warnings- none, J style fluff, ages 18+

I was in the mood for this, so I wrote it. Who doesn't love a little soft J every once in a while, right?

It had been an extremely exhausting past couple of weeks for Joker. He came very close to being captured by the Batman, and he'd done everything in his power to make sure that didn't happen. So when he was certain that he was finally in the clear, he came straight home to you.

J has been asleep for hours since he's been back. He was extremely exhausted and went straight to bed after he ate. It's currently half an hour until midnight, and he'd arrived earlier in the afternoon. So he's been out for some time. You gave him time to recover, seeing how this is the first time he's properly eaten and slept in days. However strong and incredibly stubborn as the man is, his mind and his body can only take on so much before he needs a break.

You always take care of him when he comes back. Such as checking his body for injuries, making sure he gets cleaned up, preparing him something to eat, and anything else that he needed. Now of course, J never made you do these things. You do them because you want to. Because you care about him. He accepts the things you do for him, and he doesn't take advantage of your caring nature. Not that you would allow him to, which is one of the many traits he likes about you.

While J slept, you'd tidied up around the place and used a good amount of your time to relax. Doing what you would normally like to do when you have the chance. It was relaxing, and you felt much better knowing that J was home. But eventually, you began to miss him. Even though he was right in the other room, you couldn't help but start to feel lonely. After all, it had been a few weeks since you've had any form of intimacy together. And you wanted to make up for that. Taking into account that he's still sleeping, you decide to just get into bed and cuddle up next to him.

The bedroom is dark as you walk in. Your eyes gradually adjust to the darkness while you tiptoe your way over to the bed. You find J widely sprawled out on his back under the covers. His soft snores indicate that he's probably in a deep state of sleep.

It had taken a long time for J to get comfortable and trusting enough to fall into a deep sleep around you. In fact, you can still recall the very first time that he did. Treasuring that moment forever in your heart, as it officially established his complete trust in you. So now when he goes to sleep he relies on you to watch over him. That is the only case in which he'll be able to get a good amount of rest. He's made it very clear that when one of you is asleep, the other is awake. Under no circumstances will he go to sleep at the same time as you. Because then no one would watch over either of you, and that would put you both in a vulnerable position.

Regardless, you have no intention on going to sleep. You only want to lay next to him, to be close and feel his warm presence. However, as a precaution, you set an alarm for thirty minutes from now on your smartphone. Just in case you happen to doze off.

You slip off your bottoms and toss them to the side. Left in your shirt and panties, you move carefully under the covers. Trying not to wake J in the process. You slide yourself in the area directly under his arm, getting as close to him as you possibly can. Luckily, your movements don't seem to disturb him one bit. He must really be out cold. Since you've made it this far, you use this opportunity to wrap your arm around his torso. That way, you can hold on to him.

After making yourself comfortable, you let out a sigh of relief. Finally. It was an effort well worth it.

You look up at J's face and simply stare at him. He had taken a shower recently, so his face is without his signature makeup. His scars are even more visible when he doesn't have all that paint covering them. You can't help but find them to be even more beautiful every time you see them. His body is warm, and he smells so good. Even after using your cleansing products does he still retain his own distinct scent somehow. You hope it'll always stay that way. Moving your hand to his chest, you can feel it steadily rising and falling with every breath he takes. You close your eyes and bask in his peaceful embrace. With every passing second, your chest swells with enormous amounts of love and adoration that you have for him.

J has never told you he loves you. But you'd like to think that somewhere inside of him he feels something close to love. And that's good enough for you.

You press your nose into him in attempt to feel him even closer. Holding him tighter and wishing your body could melt into his own. Your movements seemed to have roused him from his deep slumber. Shifting and stretching his limbs as he awakens.

He opens his eyes, blinking a few times before looking around and then down at you. "Mm, hello there."

"Hi J." You smile up at him.

"How long have I been out?" He yawns deeply at the end of his question. His voice deep and husky from sleep.

You trace your finger along his chest. "A few hours. Seven or eight, maybe. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to climb in bed with you."

"Missed me that much, huh?" J laughs. He doesn't mind that you're here with him. In fact, he likes feeling you pressed against him like this. It's been a while since he's felt you too, after all. He nudges you playfully, "don't go falling asleep on me yet, doll. I'm gonna need another hour or two."

"I won't. I only wanted to hold you for a bit. A few more minutes then I'll get up, I promise." You assure him. "Go ahead and get some more sleep. I know you need it."

J hums and closes his eyes. Moving his arm to wrap around you better, so that he can hold you more comfortably. His hand rubs comfortingly up and down your back a couple times before resting there.

You lay still in his grasp as he falls back to sleep. Head resting cozily on his chest, listening to the harmony of his breathing and the beating of his heart. Sounds you love hearing together. It's not every day you get to hear them. So you capture every bit of it that you can. Nights like these are ones you hold on to. They're where you feel at peace. The only downside is that you know that you'll have to get up eventually. That sooner or later J will get up, and eventually leave again. There will be nights where you get to lay like this, and some where you won't. As it has always been. That's what it's like loving the Joker.

But for right now, you don't want to think about eventually. You'll just bask in the warmth of this moment. Staring off into the darkness, in the safety of J's arms.

#into-crazy #heath ledger joker #tdk joker #the dark knight joker #ledger joker x reader #ledger joker x y/n #joker x reader #joker x y/n #ledger!joker #ledger joker #the dark knight #fanfic

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rose-and-thorn-fanfics · 2 years ago

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My fav fanfic blogs (besides my own *cough cough*)

@6lostgirl6

@wroteclassicaly

@armyangxls

@rottent33th

@there-goes-thefighter

GO FOLLOW THEM! And most importantly, REBLOG THEIR MF FICS!!!! 🩷✨🩷✨🩷✨🩷

#fanfic #writing #fanfic reading #fanfics #joker fanfiction #ledger!joker fanfic #michael langdon headcanons #michael langdon fic #the lost boys fanfiction #lost boys #lost boys 1987 #slasher fanfiction

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noirgl0w · 8 months ago

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Twisted Chords — The visuals

Being a failed rockstar in the midst of Gotham didn't give you many chances to carve out a space in a society dominated by pop. That's why you were condemned to spend night after night playing at the corner bar, with a recurring audience of three people. Your mistake was not knowing who owned that place, and even worse, not knowing whom you were at odds with.

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gotham25052 · 24 days ago

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Dark Waters

Part 4

The Wave, Gustave Courbet

Contents: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Author's note, 12/8: I am so excited to share Part 5, but just had a really rough training week with work and need more time for editing. I should get it out sometime this week, and then I will probably be doing additional parts every two weeks, to be on the safe side.

Let's just get into it, I love this week's chapter.

TW: 18+, violence, non-consensual touching

Dark Waters, Part 4

He made darkness his secret place; his pavilion round about him were dark waters and thick clouds of the skies. Psalm 18:11

The air was fresh and cool. Annie was sitting on one of the larger boulders in the stone seawall late at night, watching the endless waves breaking against the rocks. It was windy; a storm was brewing. Summer was quickly giving way to fall. Her hair blew free, tousled by the wind.

Gotham was slowly returning to normal as more and more stores opened, and her work had even come back from its hiatus. Restaurant hours were limited and events were few and far between, but there was plenty to do - she was one of the few employees who had stayed in the city and was available to work. With less events, the job was more tolerable, and she almost appreciated the return to a typical routine. But the break from her income meant that she was even further from being able to pay her bills.

In the city, she could feel a shift. Things were not what they had been. A distrust seemed to float in the air. It was invisible, but everyone knew it was there. The leaders and institutions of Gotham had failed its residents. When the food shortage happened, people had at first expected someone would come and rescue them, but no one did. Batman had not been sited since Dent became mayor, and the police were busy looking for the Joker. People felt abandoned. She didn't feel sadness in the air, though - it was anger.

Life seemed surreal for her after the crisis. She now had a constant reminder of the Joker's attention - two of his men had appeared posted at her door for the last few weeks. When she woke up in the morning after the night the Joker had spent sleeping in her apartment, she had been relieved to find him gone but surprised to see that the men had stayed, lounging in the hallway. The Joker had shrugged off the visit from Benjamin, but it seemed that he had decided to take precautions. Seeing the men made her uneasy every time she left her apartment, but she accepted that there was nothing she could do about their presence.

On the days she worked, just as in the past, what she enjoyed was the commute. She felt somehow freer when she was on a bus or walking in the city, and she often visited her favorite spot for watching the water. She had decided to stop today despite the late hour.

Her thoughts drifted to her work. It was all right at the moment, but she wondered how long Gotham Culinary would stay open in this newly unstable world. The hiatus had been devastating for the business, and the current shortages meant that they were not able to meet clients' exacting tastes at events. The wealthy of Gotham still expected all of the same luxuries as before the crisis, and they felt the company was liable for anything that was missing. She sighed, feeling the weight of the consequences if she were to lose her job. She had such a hard time even getting work in the first place when she had arrived in Gotham. Coming from a closed, isolated community, she had no credit, no job history. She shivered to think of what would happen if she could no longer pay the rent and lost her apartment.

Suddenly she became aware of a strange sensation - she had felt the wind whipping her hair around before, but now it seemed like something was gently pulling on sections of it instead. She felt a presence behind her and quickly turned around to face whatever was there.

She gasped as she recognized the figure - it was the Joker, but without any makeup adorning his face. It was jarring to see him without his mask. The normality of his appearance and the perfect symmetry of his features were out of sync with his fiery eyes, opened slightly too widely as he regarded her shocked expression. The lower half of his face was camouflaged by a thick scarf. But now he smiled and the far corners of his protruding scars peeked out on each side of the plaid material. He wore a simple black jacket, a common style for men in the city.

"I've been here a long time, playing with your hair. You must have been thinking about something… important," he said, the familiar voice out of sync with his present appearance.

He leaned in closer to the side of her face, his scarf falling down slightly and exposing his scarred lips. He looked as if he was telling her a secret that was only between the two of them.

"You know, people will think we're lovers, here on the rocks, watching the water." The words sent a chill down her back, and she looked around, realizing that he was right. Only a few people dotted the seawall on this stormy day, but none of them would have taken a second look at the young man and woman sitting on the rocks close together, talking. She felt like she couldn't catch her breath.

"Why don't you turn around so I can play with your hair again, kitten. We can talk like lovers do." He said it with a sarcasm that gave the words a vicious edge.

She turned back to the water, and he began gathering her hair into a ponytail and letting it go again, pursing his lips and making a "pfff" sound, imitating an explosion, whenever he let her hair down. She could feel his fingers touching her ears and neck as he organized the strands and then let them go again.

Her posture was rigid, on alert. After some time he said, "Why do you come here to the water? Why aren't you at home in your snug little bed?"

She was silent, finding it hard to put anything into words as she tried to comprehend the fact that even here, out in the open, he was still in control. The few people who had been loitering on the rocks were gone now.

He grabbed her hand suddenly, interlacing his fingers with hers as if they were simply holding hands, and she felt the familiar end of the nail file outlined on her index finger. She froze.

"Talk to me, ok?"

She nodded, unable to speak. He let her hand go and she made an attempt to say something. She whispered a breathless "I… come here…"

"That's good, I'll give you time, I have plenty to do to keep me busy," he said soothingly. She was always shocked at how quickly he could change his tone. His voice now was like velvet, and though she knew it was all just a show for him, the false softness of it did somehow comfort her and give her some strength to start talking. He was now combing her hair with his fingers, gently raking them through the wind-blown strands.

She started more audibly, "I like to come here to see the waves. I don't know why. At night… I think I like the way the light plays on the surface. It changes all the time."

"Mm-hmm," he muttered, seemingly distracted by a particularly thick section of hair he was running through his fingers.

She had never tried to put into words what she liked about the black depths of these strange waves, but now it seemed she would have to. "The waves at night, they look so solid, like glass - but they are moving, changing shape all the time. I can't see through them, and yet I know there is so much depth to each of them. It's impossible to measure them. If I were to reach in, I wouldn't be able to even touch the other side of the wave. And then I think about how each of them is only just the surface, the water is a hundred times deeper than the wave. And I guess I get lost in the depth and I feel - kind of - lost and free at the same time. Like I've forgotten about everything that has happened, everything that is on my mind…"

He dropped the strands of hair and leaned in confidentially. "Me too," he said.

She was surprised and turned around to see his face, wondering if his words had any touch of sincerity. His dark brown eyes looked at hers unflinchingly as usual and his face was inscrutable. It was impossible to see his thoughts, with or without the makeup.

"Ok, just relax, you don't need to talk anymore. Let's look at the water."

He continued to play with her hair for some time, and whether it was due to the crashing waves, the exhilaration of the wind, or the simple passage of time, she calmed down and her posture relaxed again. She lost herself in watching the churning surface of the water.

Suddenly she came back into the moment, realizing that her head was now being forced from side to side. He had taken to tightly gathering all of her hair, using it to pull her head to one side, and then the other, as if he were experimenting with how far he could turn it. She said carefully, "I don't think this is what lovers do."

"Some do," he said. But he stopped, pulling his hands away.

"Well, we must come here again sometime, but now I think it's time to go," he said with overdone politeness. She looked around, realizing hours had passed and the first rays of morning sun were creeping over the water on the horizon.

"I'll walk you home," he said, leaving her no room for comment. They climbed up the rocks. He straightened his scarf and took her arm in a courteous manner, but he had a steely grip that she knew would be impossible to break away from. And yet she didn't feel trapped with the autumn wind whipping around her and the open, early-morning street in front of them. It seemed so simple, as if he were meant to be walking beside her here. She struggled with the idea, recognizing that she was next to the most dangerous monster in Gotham - he was pulling the city apart even as they strode calmly together in its streets. She felt some sense of relief as she noticed that he was in fact taking her toward her building.

She marveled at how easily such a character could blend into a crowd by removing the garish paint from his face. Other than being slightly overdressed for the fall weather, he appeared as a completely normal Gothamite strolling along in the early morning hours.

He noticed her studying him. "You know, before long, the mayor will have more of a reason to hide his face than I do." The corners of his scars appeared again above the scarf.

Her stomach dropped. She wasn't sure what he meant, but what would things be like if everything was turned on its head, if there was some kind of change in the power structure of Gotham?

"What are you afraid of?" he said, noticing her apprehension.

She struggled to vocalize what was bothering her.

"If things change… I don't know what will happen. I won't be able to go to work, I won't be able to pay my rent…"

He dropped her arm suddenly, stopping his steady gait to turn and look at her.

"Why do you want to live like that? Wearing yourself out every day to barely survive in this city? Are you happy following the plan - the plan that says you need to work yourself to death and live from day to day? That comforts you?" His voice was choked with anger.

She stepped back, surprised by his sudden outburst. His scarf had come undone while he talked, and she could see his whole face now, filled with frustration.

"Is that what you want, Annie? To be born at that little hospital over there," he gestured into the air in the half-light of morning, "and then they'll put you in the ground in that cemetery over there." He gestured into nothingness on his other side. "That's enough for you? They'll just put you in a box and cover you with dirt."

She looked on silently, his words sinking into her consciousness and bringing up thoughts that had come to her before in moments of exhaustion. What was the purpose of all this? Why did she toil every day, seemingly for nothing? If she had been somewhat comfortable, she might be able to blissfully ignore his words, but her everyday survival was pushed so close to the edge that she couldn't turn away. Society had given her nothing to hide behind. No matter what she did, she realized she could never pay the bills. She felt suffocated, like Sisyphus at the bottom of the mountain looking up at his never-ending task.

She felt the breeze on her face again and came out of her reverie. He was starting to draw attention with his loud voice and animated manner. She became alarmed as she turned to see two police officers rounding the corner.

She said quietly, "bend over toward me." Something in her voice made him obey intuitively. She looped the scarf back around his neck and face, covering his identifiable scars. She pulled him down to sit with her on the apartment steps, and they watched the officers walk by, barely noticing the young woman and the man with the scarf. He raised his eyebrows, and she could tell he was smiling.

"I'll… go now," she said, and walked up the steps to her building. He let her walk away, watching her disappear through the open doorway.

She saw the shipments of food outside her apartment building almost every day now. The supplies sent to Lower Gotham had increased tenfold, even though the situation now was not nearly as dire as it had been. She knew why. She had seen it on the small TV in the lobby of the apartment building, she had heard it replayed on her bus rides - a leaked audio clip of Mayor Dent that must have been captured during a phone call at the beginning of the crisis.

There was the muddled sound of someone explaining that the first food shipment to Lower Gotham had been stolen, and then Harvey Dent's voice, clear as crystal: "What happened to the first shipment? Those rats in Lower Gotham, we can't send anything down there. Cut the shipments to Lower Gotham by half, and there will be less for them to steal." An impatient viciousness in his voice made it sound different from his usual public speeches to the people of Gotham, but it was clear to any listener that it was Dent. No one knew who had captured and leaked the audio, but everyone assumed that the Joker had orchestrated it.

The newspapers had a field day. It seemed that once the crowd began to turn against him, there was no stopping the rising tide of bad publicity. The newspaper headlines became more and more outlandish. "White Knight to White Rat: Harvey Dent's downfall," "Harvey Dented: What the Damage Means for the Next Election," "Public Enemy #1: The Joker or Harvey Dent?"

The Joker had eviscerated Dent's reputation and almost certainly ended his political career. The mayor was already on the hunt for him, and this attack on his career was so personal, so brutal, she recognized that Dent would probably do anything to get his revenge. And the thought made her uncomfortable. She struggled to put her finger on why - if the Joker was back in Arkham, that would remove a dark shadow from her life. But something about it bothered her. Maybe it was her aversion to having her own freedom curtailed that made her hate to see someone as wild and free as the Joker trapped in a padded cell. Maybe that's why she had protected him from the police when she wrapped the scarf around his scarred face. She had trouble understanding her own feelings, but she felt a strong uneasiness when she thought of what a power-hungry politician might do after his hopes for success were dashed.

She had been sitting near the window, running over the recent events in her mind, when one of the men stationed in the hallway opened the door. He was carrying a small, old-fashioned suitcase. He set it down just inside the doorway, his explanation offering few details: "He said to use this stuff and put on the dress by eight." The man returned to the hallway immediately after making the announcement.

She had almost gotten used to the Joker's men standing watch outside her door day and night, but they never communicated with her. Now she seemed to have an assignment and felt anxious as she opened the suitcase. In it was a rolled-up garment bag and hair and makeup products. It looked as if someone had walked into a store and quickly emptied the cosmetics shelves into the open case. Her brow furrowed as she realized that was probably exactly how the products came to be here.

She unzipped the garment bag hesitantly and inside saw a glamorous red dress, sparkling with beads and embroidered sequins. She quickly turned away, fear returning as she realized she would have to wear this in front of the Joker. What was his plan? She doubted he was taking her out on a date. Despite her agitation, the thought almost made her laugh. In this world turned upside down, dressing extravagantly and going out with the Joker seemed somehow less distressing than it did a few weeks ago. It was more a surreal image in her mind and less a blank void of terror.

She really had no choice and began to look through the other items in the bag. Although there was every type of makeup imaginable, there were only a few hair products - a dye kit and shampoo. She accepted that he must mean for her to change her hair color.

As the afternoon wore on into evening, the more she prepared, the more nervous she became. At first it seemed like this must just be a dream or a trick of her imagination. But when she saw herself change as she combed the dark auburn dye into her hair, added makeup, and put on the dress, it became much more real. The dress only made it worse, as it was an off-the-shoulder style with a revealing high slit on one side. It was form-fitting but still seemed slightly too loose on the shoulders. The fit was slightly off, just like her always-askew catering uniforms.

She gave the makeup and hair her best effort, but she knew it wasn't perfect. She wasn't used to dressing this way and only used the most basic makeup when she was assigned to serve guests at the restaurant or at parties. She finally gave up and simply sat down to wait for him to arrive. The weight of the unknown pressed down on her, making her wish she could somehow escape but knowing that she couldn't.

"Let's go!" he said as he entered the silent apartment. He flicked on the lights. She had let the room go dark as the sun set, lost in her apprehension for the Joker's arrival. She blinked and looked toward him. He seemed to have refreshed his face paint and looked exhilarated, as if he was ready for a night on the town.

He looked at her closely. "Uh, hmm. This isn't too convincing," he said, noticing her simple hair and basic makeup. "Where did you put everything? I'll help," he said hurriedly. He grabbed the bag and kneeled in front of her as she sat in stunned silence.

"You don't go to many parties, do you?" he asked. He was adding a generous amount of lipstick, and she knew he didn't expect a reply. He applied more color around her eyelids and chose the darkest mascara.

"I almost forgot, I brought something for those eyes," he said. He produced a small container from his jacket. "We should have done this before the makeup. Have you ever worn contacts? Oh, never mind," he said, not waiting for an answer. "Just open your eyes." She did her best to pull her eyelids apart, afraid of the consequences if she didn't do as he said. He put the brown contacts in expertly and was done in a moment. She felt the foreign sensation on her eye, but it was not painful.

"There" he said, motioning to the other side of the room. She crept into the bathroom to look into the mirror and found that he had done an expert job, although it was perhaps overdone. The face appeared strange to her, like it was that of some foreign visitor and not her own.

"Let's go, we'll be late, Annie." He rarely said her name, and it jarred her to hear it as she walked toward the door.

"I'll take care of the keys," he said as he opened the door for her, exaggerating his gentlemanly act. She walked through, and he hurried her out of the building and toward a waiting car.

She found herself in the back seat with two of his men, the Joker sitting up front with the driver. The interior of the car smelled musty, like it had been hidden in an old garage or storage unit for a long time. The Joker seemed to be giving instructions as they sped away. She realized that he was probably guiding them through the streets carefully in an effort to avoid the checkpoints the mayor had set up during the food crisis.

It was clear that they were coming into Upper Gotham, and she looked toward the sparkling skyscrapers. If she hadn't been so nervous about whatever errand the Joker had her on, she would have enjoyed seeing the lights of the city appear to flicker as a flurry of snow blew through. It was a little hint of the season before the real cold set in. She disliked the frigid air of the city in winter, but the sparse flakes falling now were charming, softening the often harsh lines of Gotham.

"Well look at that, we're here," he said from the front. She recognized the building. The catering company she worked for had staffed several dinner parties here. It included a few popular event venues plus a news studio on one of the upper floors. She noticed a sign for a Wayne Enterprises charity ball. Had the Joker come to crash another of Bruce Wayne's events? She thought she had seen something in the news about this being the first event hosted by Wayne since the disastrous fundraiser where she had met the Joker.

"I've worked here before," she said as everyone but the driver exited the car and headed toward the building.

"Well, this will be a different experience for you, kitten. Now you're unrecognizable, you're one of them. You're valuable because your clothes are valuable. You're a rich, beautiful, young woman. They will really… care about you."

"I don't know if I can play that role for you," she said cautiously, knowing she would never blend in with wealthy Gothamites.

"Oh, you can, just wait," he said ominously.

They entered the building and quickly made their way through an empty hallway on the main floor. He brought the two men and Annie with him onto an empty elevator.

"Let's see - 20th floor I believe," he said as if they were going on a tour of the building. She could see from the control panel labels in the elevator that the GCN news station was on the 20th floor. She grew even more confused.

"Don't worry, you'll be perfect," he said, noticing her wide eyes. In one quick motion, he had her in his grasp, his arm around her shoulders and the switchblade to her throat. She wrenched her body to the left, away from the knife, but it was no use. He regained control quickly, as if he was used to this posture. "Hmm," he said calmly as if he was considering what earrings would best complement her dress. He quickly reached up with the knife and cut the tie keeping her hair pinned back. It fell immediately in a messy cascade. She could hear him inhale deeply. "That's perfect," he said with satisfaction. The elevator doors opened.

The news was broadcasting live, so most of the staff were in the newsroom. Very few people were in the hallway. Those who were quickly ducked and ran, noticing the guns the men held and the terrible image of the Joker with a knife to the throat of the woman in the sparkling red dress.

The Joker half lifted her, half pushed her as he strode forward. She tried to move but her reactions were sluggish, as if her body was unable to process what was happening. They entered a large lobby area, also mostly empty. "That was good, very convincing," he purred in her ear as they entered.

He pushed her through the lobby at a quicker pace, and she found herself able to move again, stumbling forward as she came out of her initial shock. As they moved, he kept her held tightly - there was nothing she could do but keep going. He had given her a small forgiving space between the knife and her neck so that she could move her head, but the blade still shined there menacingly.

She realized that there was absolutely nothing she could do - it was as if she just had to come along for the ride. She had a surprising rush of exhilaration and her body relaxed in his arms. Something about being led along like this - she had no power over what would happen or which direction he would choose, and she felt like a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She didn't get to decide what to do at this point, or even to move under her own power. She had no decisions to make. He lifted her over the few steps from the lobby into the next hallway. She heard a whisper in her ear. "I knew you'd like it."

An uneasiness came over her as she realized he was right. She felt some kind of bizarre freedom in his arms. How many other things did he know about her that she didn't know about herself?

Soon they came to the large glass newsroom doors. He knocked politely, as if the room's inhabitants couldn't already look out and see the disturbing image of the Joker and his companions. One of the Joker's men moved his gun into position to shoot the glass, but someone quickly opened the door, while others panicked and hid under desks and behind camera equipment. They entered the room, and it became deathly silent. "I decided we'd try GCN tonight," he said, sitting Annie down in the news director's chair and motioning one of the men to keep her at gunpoint there.

"Hello, James," the Joker said, grabbing the front of the anchor's shirt and pulling him up from his position hiding under the desk, settling him back onto his stool. "Let's get the cameras going, please!," he yelled as he took a standing position on the opposite side of the desk. One of his men gestured at the camera operators with his weapon and they quickly complied.

"You're on air."

"Good evening! I'm here with, uh, James tonight." The anchor sat there with his eyes unfocused, obviously in shock.

"I was happy to see that the mayor came to his senses and decided to share some food with Lower Gotham. That was really so considerate of him. But it turns out that it's too late. Harvey didn't care about feeding you - why does he need to worry about policing you? All these checkpoints, it's really getting tiring for me and my men. Harvey Dent needs to remove the checkpoints, or I'll get rid of them for him. I'll put on a fireworks show that Gotham will never forget."

The Joker's men motioned to him, letting him know that time was running short. The police had been alerted and were on their way.

He acted quickly, yelling "That's a wrap! Cut the cameras." He turned to the stunned anchor, putting his hand up to the side of his head and simply pushing him off of the stool. He fell in a heap on the floor, still not making a sound. "If the girl wasn't with me, I'd have my men blow your head off for being such a coward," he said in an exasperated voice.

He walked toward Annie and pulled her up by her shoulder, this time producing his gun from his purple jacket. He held it near her head but pointed it upward. She felt her heart skip a beat as she looked out the glass doors and saw two security guards appear with guns drawn, facing them.

The guards opened the doors but hesitated at the entrance to the newsroom. The Joker pulled his arm tight around her shoulders, making her wince. "She looks nice in this color, doesn't she? Would you like to see more red? Do you want me to decorate the walls with her?" he said, his voice sounding completely unhinged. She froze, uncertain of her fate now. Did she really know what he would do?

"She's from one of the most important families in Gotham, attending Wayne's event tonight. Do you want her blood on your hands?" he asked, half-dragging her toward the open door.

The guards were obviously nervous, likely having never seen anything like this before. The Joker pushed toward them with her, seemingly unafraid. When they were within inches of their weapons, the guards finally withdrew. They dropped the guns and backed away, watching the strange figures leave.

They brushed past the frightened news staff on either side of the hallway, half walking and half sprinting out of the building. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw that there were no police in the area yet, though she could hear distant sirens. "In the car," the Joker commanded the group, and they piled in to the back seat.

The car sped off into the night, unnoticed. The Joker gave quick instructions to the driver, taking them on a different route from the one they had used earlier. She was on the opposite side in the back, and she could see him in profile. He looked like he was making choices about which streets to take and pointing out locations to the man driving. She allowed her eyes to settle on his face as he smoothed back his unruly hair. He seemed to always know what to do, where to go, comfortable anywhere. He looked back at her suddenly, as if he sensed her eyes. She looked away, focusing her attention on the city lights and hoping he hadn't noticed how long she had been watching him.

The circuitous route finally brought them back to her building. She was starting to feel more comfortable now that she was at home, and she thought the Joker would likely move on now that he had delivered his message to Gotham. He unlocked the door for her and she entered the apartment. She felt a wave of apprehension when she turned around to find that he was following right behind her.

"Well, we dressed you so beautifully, but we forgot the best part," he said menacingly, as he closed the door and removed his gloves. She could only wait and watch anxiously. He unbuttoned his purple jacket and took it off, reaching into an interior pocket before he let it fall to the floor. The ruby necklace hung shining in his hands.

"How..?" she trailed off, shocked at the reappearance of the necklace.

"You think I don't have friends in the Gotham City PD?" he asked. Her blood ran cold as she realized he must know that she had talked to the police months ago. He only smiled and said, "Turn around, beautiful, I want to add the finishing touch to your ensemble." The image of him there holding the necklace ends in each hand stuck in her mind ominously, as if he was holding a weapon instead of jewelry.

To turn her back to him made her extremely uncomfortable, but she was even more afraid of the anger that seemed to be always seething behind his fiery eyes. And now he knew about her trip to the GCPD. Maybe simply obeying would satisfy whatever curiosity he had, and he would leave her in peace. She turned and he guided her with slow steps to stand in front of the bathroom mirror.

"Now lift up your hair," he said, his voice close to her ear. She carried out his request, shuddering as she felt his fingers dragging along her neck much more than should be necessary. She looked up, catching his eyes lingering on her skin with a focus that sent a chill through her. His eyes rolled upward to meet hers in the reflection and a slight smile crept over his face. He pulled the chain back against her throat a little too tightly, and her hands went up to her neck instinctively to protect herself.

"Don't worry, kitten, it's just a joke," he said dismissively. He loosened the pressure and simply tied the two broken ends of the necklace into a knot on the back of her neck.

The necklace was dazzling and matched the gaudy brilliance of the dress perfectly. It reflected the light in a thousand flashes onto the mirror and back into her eyes.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders as if he was proud of creating her current appearance.

She watched his reflection cautiously in the mirror. She could see his chest moving with deep breaths, and the fire in his eyes seemed somehow muted, clouded over. She could feel the energy in the room shift. His face changed, dropping the fake smile and light demeanor. His hand suddenly disappeared under the sleeve hanging off her shoulder, easily gliding under the bodice of her dress and taking a position dangerously close to her breast. She gasped and froze, breathing rapidly. She desperately searched her mind for some action she could take. He took his free hand and slowly traced the line of the necklace chain from the knot on the back of her neck down to her collar bone. For her it felt like time stopped and his hand would never come to rest. She watched him from his reflected image and suddenly noticed herself, a woman she barely recognized, in the mirror. Her hair tousled and the makeup slightly smeared, combined with the glittering red finery of the necklace - she felt somehow separated from herself.

She lurched backward with her body, in a futile effort to free herself. He easily kept her in his grasp in the cramped bathroom, his strong fingers digging into her ribs. She continued to try to wrench her body away from his hold, but as she struggled, she only felt more exposed.

"I can wait," he said calmly, running his tongue over the corners of his lips. She quieted again, catching her breath. He bent his head down to speak into her ear, never taking his eyes off their image in the mirror.

"Are you scared of what I might do," he said slowly and deliberately, "or are you scared of something…. else." He held her there for another moment, both of them focused on their reflection.

His hands were gone from her body as quickly as they had appeared. He slid out from behind her back and stepped around to face her, covering her view of the mirror with his tall form. She was frozen now, her body refusing to move.

He bent his knees slightly to lower himself so that his face was exactly even with hers. His eyes slowly rolled from her mouth up to her eyes and settled there with a calculating gaze. "How about a kiss?" he said casually, bringing his lips to barely graze hers. She felt chills radiate from the light touch down though the back of her neck and into the core of her body. His closeness was overwhelming. She turned her head away in shame. She couldn't even control her reaction to this man? He parted his lips slightly and backed away, clicking his tongue, putting his hands up in feigned innocence.

"Ok, kitten, I can see you don't want to play."

She leaned on the sink for support and hugged her chest in a protective motion. He put on his jacket, saying, "You can keep the necklace, but you'll need to take off the dress and leave it outside your door. My guys will pick it up. We wouldn't want you to have any evidence of our evening out to take to the GCPD the next time you go talk with them, would we?"

He left, slamming the door behind him.

Additional notes: This is fanfic, so of course I don't own any characters from The Dark Knight (Joker, Batman, etc.). The main female character is original.

#heath ledger!joker #joker fanfic #Heath Ledger Joker #joker/original female character #The Dark Knight #ledger!joker #joker x oc #joker #the joker #dc joker #heath joker #the dark knight joker #dark knight #ledger joker #fanfic #joker x original character #ledger joker x oc #the joker x oc #joker fanfiction

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justsomerandomfanfic · 2 years ago

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Strange - Joker X GN Reader

Title: Strange

Joker X GN Reader

Additional Characters: N/A

Requested by Anon (Thank you for requesting! this was a cute one to write, I hope you like it!)

WC: 1,177

Warnings: Reader gets lonely, J doesn't like feelings but J likes you, knives mentioned, J trying to be threatening, possessive J, slight angst, and fluff

The night was young. The soft sounds of the city could be heard throughout the quietness of your room. You continued to flip through your magazine, shuffling deeper into your bed, head resting on your soft pillow as you read something about the top ten trending hot topics. Halfway through the article, you began to get antsy, shutting the magazine. You let out a tired sigh, tilting your head back to look at the ceiling. You stared at the ceiling fan, spinning round and round as you just sat there. Looking beside you, you brushed your fingers over the cold side of the blanket; a deep purple, almost royal. It reminded you of him. You looked over at your door, slightly ajar.

You felt an immense feeling of loneliness sweep over you. It was strange that it came with such ease. J was still in his office, working on some plan to terrify and terrorize the entire city of Gotham. You sighed again before pulling yourself from your bed and walking over to your door. Pushing it open you slid your tired feet across the hall, being careful not to actually slip against the hardwood floors as you gracefully headed to J's office.

Your hand hovered above the handle, hesitating for a moment. J hated to be disturbed when he was working, but you wanted to see him, you needed to see him. Turning the handle, you slowly slid the door open, peeking your head inside. J was hunched over his desk, scribbling down something as he worked. His desk was dirty, covered with piles of papers, maps, and even one of his knives just haphazardly tossed around. J didn't look up as you wandered over, hands clasped behind your back as you walked around his desk, peering down at his work as you stood beside him while rocking on the balls of your feet.

Your hands were itching to touch him, it had been hours since he came home and shut himself in the office, and you wanted to cuddle with your Joker. "Hey," You said quietly as you leaned down and kissed him on the cheek; hopefully not getting any of his grease paint on you. J only grumbled, giving you a glare with his dark chocolate eyes before he resumed his writing. You bit your lip before you threw caution to the wind and grabbed J's free arm, lifting it up as you ducked under; sitting down on his lap. J growled, almost threateningly, before you let yourself get settled, wrapping your arms around his neck. His free arm looped around your waist, holding onto you tightly; possessively.

You snuggled closer to him, the smell of gasoline, gunpowder, and grease paint; It calmed you down and made you feel safe. You smiled softly as you sighed, the tips of your fingers running through his slightly greasy hair. "You need a shower, J… And new dye." You commented only to get a low hum from J as he concentrated on the notes and maps on the table before him. His fingers tapped against your waist, beating to an unknown rhythm as he worked. Oh, how you wished you could see into that brilliant mind of his. To see the inner workings, and find out what he was really thinking. You shook your head lightly before nuzzling into his cheek, inhaling deeply; enjoying the smell of smoke.

His eyes flicked away from his notes momentarily, "You got somethin’ on your face, doll.” He mumbled deeply, before going back to his work.

You sighed, leaning closer to him, closing your eyes. "Don't care, just want to be close to you."

J clicked this tongue to the roof of his mouth, "Well, aren't I lucky." He trailed off almost sarcastically, but you knew he felt differently as the arm around you gently tightened.

You grinned softly, your chest and cheeks feeling warm before leaning back further, your legs draped over J's. "I missed you…" You mumbled, your lips brushing against his shoulder, the material of his green vest scratching against your lips. Your voice sounded so small, like a child's. J grumbled, going back to his work, scribbling more nonsense down on a piece of paper fiercely. You sat there, your cheek resting on his shoulder as you shut your eyes; sleep slowly, peacefully overtaking you entirely.

~~~

J let out a small sigh, dropping his pencil on his desk as he looked down at you. Asleep in his arms. He felt his heart skip a beat as you shifted slightly in his arms. His fingers reached on their own accord, gently tracing your flushed cheek, watching as your eyelashes fanned over your cheeks; ticklish and fluttering. He scowled deeply, pulling his hand away. He hated the way you made him feel. Hated the way you got under his skin. How easily you could make him melt with just a look or whisper of your voice. Hated how he had no control over himself when you were around him. But most of all, J despised how much he cared about you. He felt weak.

He wasn't going to leave you though. You were his. No one else's. Ever. J gently moved his arm underneath you, scooping you into his arms bridal style before heading for the bedroom. You stirred briefly in his grasp but stayed asleep. The corner of his lips quirked up, eyeing the sight of his white grease paint on your lips and your nose. His eyes glinted mischievously, he'd wait until the morning to say anything.

Setting you down on the bed, more like tossing, you somehow stayed asleep as J grabbed the blanket and tossed it over you, making sure you were covered. J watched as you softly snored, turning in your sleep to his side of the bed unconsciously. J sighed, heading to the bathroom; shutting the door as he showered and washed off all the grim of the day away. Only fifteen minutes later did he emerge from the bathroom, hair dripping and a small towel around his neck. His purple t-shirt clung to his chest slightly as he tossed the covers open on his side, getting in bed beside you.

J laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling as he quickly felt you slide closer. Your arm wrapped around his waist, one of your legs hooking onto his waist as you practically laid on top of him. J pursed his lips, his tongue running along the scar lines in his mouth as he thought, before, like he usually did, wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly to him. His breath hitched a little as your hair tickled his chin, smelling strongly of strawberry shampoo. J nudged your head up with his nose before pressing a big wet kiss to your forehead. “Mine.” He grumbled lowly, staring down at you as you mumbled and smiled in your sleep, cuddling further into him. J felt that strange warm feeling wash over him again, filling every empty space he never knew existed.

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butterfly-lies-chase-them-away · 10 months ago

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Bunny - Health Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader

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

Word Count: 17,654

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What was she supposed to do with it now?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/n could do nothing but glare.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where's the seatbelt?" she asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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