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it was a normal night for you; work was hectic, as usual for the diner. you pulled into the parking lot for your complex, grateful that your asshole of a neighbor isn't home yet to take your spot.
you were lucky to get an apartment in a decent part of Gotham, the tips you made were what set you up pretty well. Of course, you had some help from your family, but you were proud to say you landed here on your own.
locking and closing the door behind you, you took notice that one of your pictures from your hometown was slightly pushed to the side. you immediately tense, fight or flight mode activating in your mind.
you've been in Gotham for three years, and you never had a one on one interaction with any of Gotham's criminals. now, you have been involved in threats and hostage situations, but those were thugs sent by the big honchos themselves.
you call out, "who's there?" straining your ears for any out of place noises. any creak, stir, or pop, anything .
instead, you were met with deafening silence. maybe…maybe you were just paranoid. living in Gotham where a colorful clown is a major threat can do that to any sensible person.
sighing, you pulled off your apron and plopped onto the couch. grabbing the remote and flicking on the TV, your heart stopped at the reflection before the nightly news came on.
no…no fucking way.
you swallowed hard, expecting anything to hit you on the back of the head, but all you could do is stare at the corner of the screen, focusing on any hint of purple or green.
because you could've sworn you saw the Joker standing right fucking behind you .
Vicki Vale's voice was nothing but static in your head as you slowly turned your head and–
nothing.
you would have chalked it up to how much you're keeping up with the news, and how the Joker had recently escaped Arkham, yet again , but if it weren't for the smell, the goddamn burning chemical smell, you surely would have left it alone and laughed at yourself.
but you weren't in any laughing mood now, and probably won't be after this.
you slowly stood, scanning your living room before the giggling started.
giggling.
the straight up laughter left bile in your throat.
"oh, do forgive me. you looked like you needed a reason to look crazy -eeheehee !"
you shot your head to the left, mouth agape at the sight of the clown himself.
he laid back against your front door, the one that was locked , arms and ankles crossed. he looked comfortable, his red smile plastered lazily on his pale white skin.
your mouth was open in pure fear, wishing to say anything at all, but the Joker's presence seems to be taking any sort of control you might have thought you had. he stared at you for a moment before moving towards the picture that was moved, "you're not from Gotham, are y-"
he was cut off by one of your school books being thrown directly at his face. he took a step back, shocked from the contact. his gloved hand met his cheek, where a bruise was quickly forming and scowled at you.
".. ow. "
"get," you heaved, adrenalline kicking in, “the fuck ,” you backed up, looking for any other possible exit–or even a weapon. “ out. ”
He scowled at you for a second more, then gave the most charming smile you’ve ever seen from him. “you know, I’ve been watching you. you’re quite the interesting little minx.” you heaved; all that paranoia was valid. “..how long..?” what did he mean? he's been watching you?
why
was he watching you?
“honestly, I couldn’t tell you,” he chuckled, “lost track of time.”
the Joker rubbed his cheek, his eyes never leaving you. it felt suffocating, and by God did you want to wipe that smirk off his horrid face. “you’re studying forensic science. you have an internship with the big comish himself, you keep in contact with your family, you’re out with your friends nearly every week–you’re living the life compared to most gothamites.”
his attention went back to the picture, “but you, my dear, have it easy, because you’re not one of them,” he looked up at you, the pet name leaving you in cold sweat, “you came to Gotham for school, right? a better option and learning experience!”
God does he ever shut the hell up? “they’ve warned us about you,” you shuddered, slowly making your way to your kitchen; you have been since he opened his mouth. you tried not to move too much while his eyes were on you. you wanted to scream because he just wouldn’t look away. but of course, you had to say something to grab his attention.
before you could take your turn, he flipped the picture on it’s front, staring you down, eyes nearly lidded. “have they? or have you just found me so alluring?” you bit your lip, which was quivering. “don’t forget, darling–”
the clown’s eyes flicked to the kitchen, then back to you, “I’ve been keeping my eyes on you .”
your body ached from how tense you were, just from how tense this whole thing was . still, you chuckled in your throat, trying to mock him. “you suggesting something?” he chuckled right back. “only that you’ve taken some files of mine that really shouldn’t belong to you.”
blunt. there’s something else. you know better. “the hell do you care for?”
his smile never faltered, however, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared you up and down. you needed a weapon, fast. you can tell he’s getting impatient. “I have this wonderful idea, a game, just for us to play! you have access to formulas and equipment that I need, so–”
as he began to go on a tangent again, you quickly turned and bolted for the kitchen, which was only a few steps behind you. but of course , the Joker’s bony hands gripped your arms, tucking them behind you and slamming you into the counter. “now that’s just rude .” you kicked your foot back, hitting his shin hard.
he jumped, loosening his grip on you. you twisted around, quickly kicking him again, allowing you some air to breathe for just a moment. he leaned over, placing his hands on his legs. looking up, the Joker looked feral as he smiled at you again, “you’re good with your legs.”
you yanked a knife from its compartment behind you, holding it steady while aiming at him. you had no idea what you were going to do, but you are going to do it to survive. we don’t just live after a visit from the Joker himself.
upon seeing the knife glinting from the light, aiming directly at him, his whole demeanor changed. he stood up tall, eye boring into yours. he tilted his head, “and what are you going to do with that?”
“jesus fuck , do you ever shut up?! what else would I do with a knife, you sick bastard! I’m gonna gut you for even entering my apartment –”
Joker groans , then has a fit of giggles, “I do love the spunky ones.”
you shouted in frustration before throwing yourself at him, aiming for his pretty white neck. but, as you should’ve expected, he easily dodges the attack, pulling one of his many daggers. luckily, you were quick enough to avoid a serious wound, but he sliced your hip up pretty bad. you hissed from the pain, twisting into the burn. the Joker simply giggles, overwhelmed with joy and excitement. reaching your arm around his back, you were quick to stab him in the back of his shoulder. he groans again, right in your ear, and you impulsively twisted the knife before ripping it out.
“ darling ,” he breathes. a part of you can’t believe that you just did that, another part of you wanting to itch at your own wound. “you sure do know how to leave a girl hanging.”
“fuck you, you sick prick. I’ll–” then, you giggled. it was impulsive, you didn’t mean to rhyme. Joker’s eyes widen a bit, before he giggled with you. you yelled again, “shut the fuck up!”
“ heeheheahaa …you rhymed. I love a good rhyme."
"I really don't give a fuck." you grunted, twirling the bloody knife in your hands. not a threat. a promise.
one that he hopes you'll keep.
when he says your name it sends shivers down your spine, "you're absolutely nasty , has no one ever taught you to respect your elders?"
you leapt forward, catching him off guard, slicing him due to him tripping over his own feet. quickly, you guide the tip of the knife to his arm, and pinned him against the wall, slightly putting more and more pressure onto the knife that was pricking his arm.
he's breathing heavily now, and you're not sure from what exactly. the same could be said for you. he smiled down at you, his face looks like he doesn't have a gaping wound in his shoulder, but the bruise that had formed left a warm feeling in your chest.
"so…will you help me, toots?"
the Joker shouted in pain as you drilled the knife into his arm, feeling the tip of it scrape your wall. he sighed, almost dreamily, as he confessed, "you're everything I want Batman to be."
"well, I'm not him."
you let him catch you off-guard this time as he switched your positions, holding a new dagger up to your throat. he was going to kill you.
"obviously," he mused, pressing you further into the wall. "you've marked me up pretty good, it's not fair that all I've done is a cat scratch."
"go to hell!" you spat.
the clown hummed, buzzing with excitement. you quickly lifted your knife before he twisted your wrist, knocking the bloody thing onto the floor.
you yelped, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. you really were about to die, huh?
then as the tears began to fall he leaned in closer, pressing the dagger painfully to your neck, then–
cold, red lips were on your own. unbelievably, you whimpered against him, egging him on.
this was gross, this was disgusting.
yet you kissed him back with so much force, both of your lips would be bruised. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, scratching and picking at the stab mark you gave him. it filled you with pride knowing that you left something like that on the Joker.
he removed the dagger to kiss you deeper, and again, you disgustingly let him, only for him to stab you in your abdomen.
Joker knew where he was hitting. he would have killed you by now if he wanted to.
no, he wants you alive. he's getting your help one way or another, and he's not taking no for an answer.
he stabbed you where you would live, just a friendly little reminder of this night. of him. pressed up against you, knife in your stomach.
fuck, it hurt. you continued to cry from the pain, but pulled the Joker more and more into you, as if the two of you would fuse together.
he pulled the knife out, as well as pulled himself back. his lipstick was ruined and you made a note to wipe your face off before looking in any mirror later.
if you're still alive after making out with the Joker.
both of your bodies were pressed flush together, both of you were breathing pretty damn heavily, and both of you glared at each other, but Joker still smiled through it all.
his eyes were blown, right in front of you, and it scared yet thrilled you all at once.
you hated this. you hated that he was here. you hated that you kissed him back. worst of all you hated that you hated him for stopping.
"...I'll help."
he gave a cheeky grin, like he knew you'd say yes. of course he did. he's been stalking you for, probably, months.
at the end of the day, this was just one of your fantasies.
"wonderful!" he didn't move, he continued to talk right in your face. "I'll be back with a list, I'll need you to get me those items–"
you hated it when he talked. so you socked him in the stomach. he lurched forward, his head resting on your shoulder as he heaved.
his laughter was deafening when he gripped your arms again and slammed you repeatedly into the wall. you felt something warm run down your nostril, hoping it was blood instead of a runny nose.
you assumed it was blood, since the Joker seemed to follow it with peaked interest. once it reaches your lips he was back at it, trying to drink up whatever he could.
you were both horribly out of breath, but it seemed like the two of you were deprived of something.
you didn't care. not anymore.
he quickly pulled back, punctuating each word with a pinch to your face. "tomorrow. list. I need the equipment, darling." then went back to being all over you. or were you all over him?
god it was all just so overwhelming. his scent, the pain, the blood, his lips, his voice.
his hand reached up and gripped your cheeks, even as he was kissing you roughly. he pulled back only to mumble in your ear, "understand?"
his other hand prodded at the stab wound he left, almost like he was flirting. still, you flinched from the pain, but nodded anyway.
"words." he peeled some skin off of your stomach, causing you to groan in a mixture of pain and something else.
"dammit…fine."
he kneeled down slowly, not looking away from you at all . his hands rested on your hips, squeezing at the cut from earlier.
"good..now! you've been putting on quite the show for me," he kissed at your stomach wound, eyes lidded, smile eager.
"but I've always preferred a two-person show ."