Joker (1)

((A/N)): Request from justfandomtrash ; usually, I save requests for the newest update, but I don't have any inspo for what this 'shot was previously, so I moved it ahead. Also, I've kept you waiting long enough RIP, sorry. 


Heads up, I'm making this one (1) exception because I had inspo for it ahead of time, but I usually only write for Heath Ledger's Joker and the Valeska Twins. As a Jason Todd stan and as someone who's really fuckin tired of all the men in my life justifying their shitty actions because "tHe jOkEr iS mY hErO" and "i rElAtE tO tHe jOkEr"... yeah, I'm not a fan :/


Still, this idea has been sitting around in my head since I got the request, aRE YOU READY KIDS


*PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE MIND THE WARNINGS*


Warnings: age gap, mentions of smut (really racy, but not explicit), getting caught (oop-), unhealthy relationship (not abusive, just unhealthy), and the Joker refers to himself as daddy one time only, I swear


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"Darling", your lover purrs, uncrossing his legs and standing up to greet you.


Your lover.


You can't call him your boyfriend, like this is a normal relationship between two normal people.


You slept together once, sought him out again against your better judgment, and ever since had been stuck in the cycle of seeing the man who gave you a thrill and a half, and a whole bunch of feelings you shouldn't have. He was like a drug, wildly unpredictable, and so different from your day-to-day life; you couldn't help but keep returning to him.


And just like taking drugs, this was wrong.


One, he's a criminal. A very well-known, highly dangerous, and actually, genuinely, insane criminal.


Second, there's a significant age gap.


He's already 16 years older than your brother, and there's the third point.


Your brother is Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy Prince of Gotham. You two are the only remnants of one of the most powerful families in Gotham, all eyes are on you at all times.


If the media were to find out that you, Y/N Wayne, had been seeing the Joker, your family name would be tainted. And that affected Bruce and Alfred, not just you.


It frustrated you that society wasn't changing its ways anytime soon, that you had to be the one to find a way to be with Jack, but for all the lows in whatever your relationship was, the highs were well worth it.


You kept your arms folded across your chest.


"You said this place was closed", you said pointedly, finally loosening up when Jack kisses your cheek.


He pulls a chair out for you with a flourish, and you sit down across from him, glaring.


"You said you wouldn't do... any of this while I was with you".


He waves his hand at the hostage waiters and waitresses, chefs, and managers huddled in the kitchen, surrounded by his goons.


"I'm not going to kill them, darling", he reasoned, his permanent smile not giving you any reassurance. "Well, not yet, anyway".


You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.


"At least give them space. Lock them in the kitchen, just get your men to leave them alone, Jack".


He whistled with two fingers, signalling his goons to back off before reaching for the champagne bottle at the middle of the table.


"Anything for you, I suppose...", he drew out the "suppose", stretching it almost sarcastically.


His smile was like rubber, stretched out and stuck in that position, permanently, testament to his dip in the acid vat. It was unnerving, but you got used to it. All part of his charm.


He watched you with that smile, never taking his eyes off of you while he poured, even when the glass over-filled and champagne seeped into the white tablecloth.


"How was your day, dear?" he drawled.


Your eyes flicked down to the glass he was still pouring and then back up at him in a signal you knew he would catch, if he wasn't planning on ignoring it.


"It was fine. Normal". You almost put an emphasis on the word "normal". You accepted your glass and took a small sip. "And you?"


"Delightful", he responded dazedly, still staring at you.


You knew what he wanted. Affection was a rare thing to come by in your relationship; it had been built on sex, and it revolved around the carnal act.


What did you expect from the Clown Prince of Crime?


"Not here", you say, finishing the last of your drink.


"Oh, most definitely not here", he agreed, walking his fingers across the table to take your hand. "You're mine. Only I get to see you like that, isn't that right, darling?"


And there it went. You were already set for the night ahead.


You squeezed his gloved hand.


"Home. Now", you grit out.


Jack's smile stretched even further.


"That's my girl".


Sweeping an arm around your shoulders, he guided you out of the restaurant. To anyone else, it would look like an affectionate gesture, but you knew it was an act. Everything was, with him.


He ushered you into the black getaway car out behind the restaurant and once you were strapped into the passenger seat, you grabbed his face from across the console and kissed him, hard. You could feel his smile under your lips, skin powdery from the makeup he wore to conceal the pure white skin that would give him away if he set foot without it in public.


He reached a hand behind him, fumbling with the keys to get the car started. The engine was brought to life right as you were getting into the heat of things.


Jack pulled away, leaving you wanting.


"Ah, ah, ah, darling. You'll just have to be patient now".


Patience. Not a trait found in Wayne genes, according to yourself and your brother.


You jumped him the minute he stopped the car by his shitty little apartment. Inside, he kicked the door shut without a second glance, trying to keep up with your impatient desire for a high.


You pulled away only for air, letting him tug the neckline of your dress down, revealing your heaving chest to him. Another tug brought your bra down, leaving your breasts exposed. You didn't care, he had seen it all before, anyway.


Smile the widest it had been all night, he dropped into the armchair, patting his leg as a sign to sit on his lap.


"Come to Daddy, baby".


~


You woke up still in his lap, still in the armchair. Your chest was still exposed and bare... somewhat. You grimaced at that.


You were about to go clean yourself up and leave when Jack shifted beneath you, sighing, satisfied, and grinning up at you.


"Morning, Sleeping Beauty", he cackled at his own joke.


You rolled your eyes, about to push yourself up. He grabbed your arms, keeping you in place.


"Jack..." you began to argue weakly, still worn-out from the fucking you had just received.


It was bad enough you got your kicks with the Joker. You didn't want to have to stay. You just wanted to go home.


"I'm not finished with ya yet, baby", he growled.


Fuck it. You decided to just let him fuck you again and then head directly home after round 2, about to commence, when a sharp knock on the door had you scrambling off his lap and him reaching for a gun.


He fired one shot into the wall, a warning.


"Get the hell out of here, you old bat!" he yelled, keeping the gun aimed at the door. He had no idea that there was, in fact, a bat on the other side.


You didn't say anything, panicking only slightly.


Where the hell did my bra go?


Jack was looking pretty satisfied with himself, beginning to lower the gun and turn to you with a smirk.


"I think we got rid of 'im-"


BOOM.


You screamed as the door was kicked open with force, falling off the hinges. You could hear Jack laughing maniacally as he fired repeatedly at the door.


"WHERE IS SHE".


You recognized that voice. Poking your head up from behind the couch, you confirmed your suspicions.


Batman was in the living room, punching the living shit out of the Joker.


"She? Who's she?" he choked out through his laughter.


You felt your face burn when he held up your bra, dangled from one finger. You could see the mortification on your brother's face, even under the cowl.


"Perhaps you mean darling little Y/N Wayne?"


Bruce slammed his fist into the clown's face again. The crunching noise confirmed a broken nose. Making sure you were fully clothed, ignoring the mess Jack had left on your chest, you emerged from your hiding spot, eyes wide at the sight of Jack, already a bloody pulp, and Bruce, holding him off the floor by the collar.


"Br- Batman, stop!"


You could hear the yelling and the lecture to come already, could see first the relief, and then the ice flood your brother's eyes.


He stood up, not without slamming Jack's head into the floor.


"Miss Wayne", he said stonily. "Are you alright?"


God, you are not about to cry right now, your inner conscious screamed at you as you struggled and succeeded in keeping the tears out of your eyes.


"Yes. Thank you".


From the floor, Jack snickered.


"More than alright, I'd say-"


One last punch from Bruce took him out.


He shoved your bra into your hands and brushed past you, stopping in the doorway to look back.


"Come on. We're going home".


You glanced at your unconscious and bloody lover, left on the floor.


Lover, again.


You knew this day was coming eventually. Bruce was too smart to not be able to figure something was up.


The high was over. It was time to brave things on your own again.


Bruce was still standing in the doorway.


"Y/N".


This was it. You weren't ready to, but you left.


Safe in the Batmobile with your brother, who you could tell was giving you the cold shoulder, you didn't look back as you left Jack behind you. 

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