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It was expected, really. A man with as much power as him would of course seek out someone else powerful. We had different kinds of power though. His power was achieved through slaughter and violence and any other evil deed you could think of. His power was achieved through fear. My power was achieved through my voice. I had the people of Gotham’s hearts and minds wrapped around my finger. I wrote most of the Gotham Gazette, you see. I tell the people the “truth”. Whatever I write, they believe. That’s my power.
So, there I was sitting in my tiny one bedroom apartment, waiting for one of the King of Crime’s goons to show and strike up a deal. What I didn’t expect was for the King himself to make an appearance.
As soon as the bright purple van pulled up outside my building, I had a gun in hand and a blank expression on my face to hide my fear. I flopped into an armchair so I wouldn’t fall over from terror as I heard them walking up the hallway. I twirled my handgun in my nimble fingers.
There was a bang on the door and then seconds later the door was blown off its hinges as the Joker’s men barged into my cramped apartment.
“Drop the gun or we’ll shoot!” commanded one the men fiercely.
“Shoot me then because I ain’t dropping my gun,” I drawled and prayed to every deity I knew that they didn’t hear the quivering of my voice.
The men stared at me in shock and one of them cocked his weapon before a maniacal cackle filled the room.
“Oh I like her.” the voice whispered.
My back straightened ever so slightly as I glanced around for the Clown.
“She’s feisty,” He growled. “I like feisty.”
He then stepped into my view and I saw the man I hadn’t been anticipating to show. His hair was a bright, artificial green that matched his pale, artificial skin. He wore a dark purple suit that only just covered the ink that stood out on his ghostly body. He hard sharp features and dark makeup that made him look strangely eerie. But there was something else I hadn’t anticipated; He was beautiful. It was obvious in the sharpness of his jaw and the arrogant glint in his eyes that ignited an unwanted fire in the pit of my stomach.
“Now [y/n], we can do this the easy way or the fun way,” he grinned wickedly.
I must’ve been a masochist because his deep, playful tone made me want to fucking straddle him. He made me feel powerless even though I knew he was here because he needed my help.
"O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!" I replied with a cocky smirk that made me ignore my fear.
He seemed to clock my reference because he started laughing like a lunatic.
Then, he shot me.
I swore profusely as he continued to laugh. It wasn’t fatal – right in the foot - but it still wasn’t very fucking nice.
“I’m the one who makes the jokes here.” he said with a coy smile.
I glared at him as he snapped his fingers to summon a medic to deal with my bleeding foot. Then, he started to talk business.
“You run the Gotham Gazette, correct?” he continued as I nodded, “I want to be in control of what gets printed in that newspaper of yours. You already control the people’s minds and they don’t even know it. I want you to write about me. I want you to get the people to fear me once more.”
“What-” I started but he interrupted me.
“People don’t fear me as much as they used to. The Bat’s the reason for that but if you start writing about how terrifying I am…well that would be awfully fun,” he finished with a grin.
The King of Crime was smarter than I anticipated. It was a good plan. Everyone read the Gotham Gazette so everyone would see what I wrote. Although I had no clue as to why he wanted to conjure so much fear in people. I guess that’s just what the Clown King did when he was bored. It made him all the more intriguing. A mysterious spark in my mind-numbing life that was ready to set my soul alight. And I didn’t mind getting burnt in the process.
So I said, “Ok. I’ll do it.”Joker told his pals to go get into the van whilst he finished up. I still had my gun in hand; completely unused throughout the entire conversation. Joker looked at me as if he knew that I never intended to use it on him. We were in silence as I gritted my teeth through the pain in my foot and he simply watched me. He seemed to be reading me with an unclear expression on his face.
“I can’t read you very well,” he confessed finally. “You’re a mystery to me.”
That gave me the upper hand.
“Sorry for your loss, you highness,” I remarked.
Was it stupid of me to make another comment after just getting shot? Possibly. Did I care? Apparently not. And apparently the Joker didn’t seem to care either because he just smiled. He strolled up behind my armchair and rested himself on the back.
“You seem like a challenge,” he breathed into my ear softly. “I like challenges.”
He sent shivers down my spine and sent invisible insects crawling along my skin. I hated how my body betrayed my cool exterior when he came near. His chalky hands came to rest on my shoulders and I let out a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding. Warmth coursed through my system and I couldn’t think a single coherent thought. It was bliss.
He plagued my dreams. I imagined his cock torturing my insides and leaving bruises for days. I imagined taking him in my mouth and him fucking my throat. I felt desperate for him like a caged animal and I couldn’t escape. He was addictive and just the mildest thought of him gave me a high that I couldn’t control. It was better than any drug I’d ever experienced before.
The next time I saw him was a little more interesting.
I was walking home late from work when someone grabbed me from behind and pulled me into an alley. I tried to scream but the unknown person wrapped their hand around my mouth so I resorted to biting their hand so hard that they knocked me on the head with something hard and cool.
I woke up slumped in the chair of a bright green and purple office with the King of Crime sitting opposite me.
“You were hard to catch, little lady” he said whilst wagging his finger at me condescendingly.
I sent him a grim smile as my head throbbed from being knocked out. He returned a look of mild sympathy.
“Whichever meathead thought it was alright to hurt my girl won’t get away with it” he muttered menacingly.
My heart fluttered when he said “my girl”. I wasn’t his girl…was I? No. He’s using me. He’s mocking me. Surely he didn’t mean it.
The Joker came to face me and knelt down so that we were face to face. His obsidian eyes bore into mine with a fierceness that sent me insane. He didn’t seem up for talking today. All he did was look at me as if he were searching me for answers.
I stayed still and tried to focus on anything but the man kneeling in front of me, staring into my mind intensely. Involuntarily, I leaned forward a millimetre before realising what I was doing and the Clown gave me a coy smile. I started to dart back but the Joker gripped onto my shoulder and I melted at his touch. He leaned himself forwards too until we were so close that I could feel his breath fanning my face. Then, I closed the gap.
It started soft with his eyes still open as if studying me but quickly the heat intensified and his tongue twisted into my mouth and his grill clashed against my teeth and his hands were feeling any bit of exposed skin he could find as I slid from my chair onto his lap. I grasped onto him as if he would disappear any second. His touch was intoxicating and any rational thought flew out of my head as the Joker (THE JOKER) pressed his body up against mine in a desperate attempt to get any closer than we already were. I rubbed against him and moved to take off his jacket but he simply chuckled into my mouth.
“Ah ah ah,” he tutted as he broke apart our kiss and looked at me with an amused glint.
I was panting hard and surely he could feel how wet I was yet he simply stood as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened and began discussing what specifically I should write in my article.
What a challenge indeed this would be.
And so it went on. Each time we met, we would discuss our evil little plans, exchange flirty banter and if I was lucky, he would kiss me until I was throbbing and my panties were soaked but it never went further. He teased me for weeks on end until one glorious Saturday night.
A van showed up outside my apartment and for some reason I walked outside in a black dress that was more than revealing. Frost sat in the driver’s seat and looked me up and down but said nothing as we drove out of town to the Joker’s headquarters.
I walked into the Clown’s office without knocking and he looked up with a grin.
“Are you all dressed up for little, old me?” He whispered and my heart went into frenzy when I saw the desire in his dark eyes.
I smiled coyly at him. Everything was a constant game with no rules to him. Sometimes it felt like I was only one step ahead of him and other times it felt like I was miles behind. The game was exhilarating nonetheless.
“[y/n] I don’t wanna play around right now.” he growled, “I want you. I want you naked on the floor and begging for my cock.”
He was intense and fierce and I could not say no.