Summary: You had moved on from Gotham, from your home, from your marriage. There was no point in staying, so you left. However, when you are pulled into an interrogation for a case about the Joker, you realize your past may not be so far behind…
This is what it looks like when he’s fuckin the hell out of you from behind
Sorry but I’m such a whore for him
Fuck imagine his hands on your hip bones, gripping your love handles and fucking you deep while you watch over your shoulder… all that can be heard are your whimpering moans, his ragged breath, and the soft slapping of his vest against your ass as he pounds you hard… he looks down at you, dark eyes under all that makeup, and he growls, “You like that, don’t you? Fucking slut.” You moan and nod, incapable of forming a proper response because it just feels so good. His meat massaging your tight walls with unrelenting thrusts… you reach between your legs to stroke yourself, your back arching as your every nerve seems to light on fire with pleasure…
Mister J’s girlfriend escaped from a high security prison two days ago and the authorities have no idea how it happened: the truth is the outgoing investigation has reached a dead end. This highly classified matter can’t find a reasonable explanation for the prisonbreak following a series of baffling events.
The Vault
“Yes?” the CIA inspector Daniels wiggles in his chair at the faint knock, aware the individual requested for today’s classified briefing is on the other side of the door.
“FBI Special Agent Kane is here,” the secretary announces before letting in the impeccable suit.
“Sir!” he greets while the woman makes herself scarce because she knows they won’t talk until she’s gone.
“Lock the door,” the inspector growls before inviting Kane to take a seat. “Did you read the file?” he immediately goes straight to the point.
“Yes, sir. I did.”
“The reason why I called you…Mmmm…there are several aspects of this situation we did not include into the original report.”
“I figured,” Kane’s answer prompts the inspector’s urge to share the extra information he’s eager to pass along. “You’re familiar with The Joker’s plans to rob Gotham National Bank three months ago went down a different path than expected.”
“U-hum,” the FBI agent acknowledges.
“The seif was equipped with a sensor enabling an explosion to take place as soon as someone stepped on at least 5 pressure plates leading to the main vault: there is no way to get to it unless you walk on them; a secret feature only the bank owner, Bruce Wayne knew about and security team leader that installed this feature. Wherever The Joker got his info, of course it didn’t include any of this: there’s no blue print mentioning such trigger. Obviously, after the fact, now we know about it,” Daniels sighs, frustrated. “The blast was meant to seal the exit, trapping thieves until cops were able to apprehend them. Something went wrong because the detonation messed up half the vault also: The Joker got caught in the explosion and died from internal injuries while his girlfriend survived since she was further inside the metal box.”
Kane wonders if new details will emerge soon thus he pays attention to the projection screen displaying images behind the inspector.
“This is where the SWAT team found The Joker and Y/N,” the inspector indicates the north corner of the vault. “She managed to pull him from under the rubble and he was pronounced dead at the scene: head resting in her lap and still holding her hand. They had to break his fingers in order to separate them. Y/N was in shock, didn’t react in any way besides uttering the words: ‘ I would have… eventually.’ Since in custody, she’s been into a catatonic state, didn’t say a word besides mumbling the same phrase a few instances.”
“What does that even mean?” Kane frowns.
“Probably nonsense,” the inspector types on his laptop in order to show the FBI agent intriguing facts that baffle him.” What you are about to see defies any explanations we came up with so far, that’s what we need the FBI input on the whole affair.”
“Certainly,” Kane agrees, wondering about the video depicting you sitting on the bed in your cell dated 3 weeks post incarceration.
“The medical assistant was trying to collect a blood sample,” the inspector narrates. “As you can see, he’s quite rough, not exactly the standard procedure.”
“Holy…!!” the FBI agent exclaims when the nurse unexpectedly flies over the room, violently crushed against the bars one second later.
“Six broken ribs, fractured shoulder and a twisted ankle,” the aftermath is presented to Kane. “Y/N didn’t move, she didn’t react in any way. What do you think caused that?”
“I’m… I’m not sure…” Kane mutters in disbelief.
“There’s more,” the inspector clicks nexton the video file and continues: “This occurred 2 weeks after the incident in the middle of the night at 12:07am. Y/N’s prison gate suddenly unlocked and she got up from the bed, walked outside and roamed the East corridor until the personnel seized her.”
“Was this maybe an inside job?”
“Nope, tripled checked and everyone was cleared; it wasn’t an inside job. She got moved to a more secured area, same thing happened,” the camera footage displays Y/N cell door suddenly opening in the middle of the night and her walking out. “And she got moved again… voila!” Daniels puckers his lips at yet another puzzling circumstance of the detainee strolling outside her cell, shortly recaptured afterwards.
“Did you scan for hardware or software malfunctions?” Kane asks, although he’s confident they did.
“Over and over; the equipment is the best quality, no errors encountered. So you understand our dilemma. And the night she escaped… that’s the cherry on top!” the inspector takes a deep breath, replaying the video that bothers him more than anything else in his entire career. ”The segment you’re about to witness is the burden of my existence for the moment,” the 51 years old huffs. “Two days ago, at 11:08 pm, the gate to her cell opened. In the same time, the ambush created by The Joker’s henchmen trying to breach security in order to get her was in full bloom,” the screen split in half illustrates the carnage simultaneously unfolding with your breakout.
“What is that?!” Kane gestures at the images, fascinated.
“You noticed?” the inspector bites his lip at the disturbing revelation. “It appears there’s someone in front of her and she follows. This is a thermal picture: only Y/N; you switch to normal transmission, it seems there’s a person guiding her through the maze of hallways in order to avoid being captured. This is infrared: just her, you change to normal view… I’m positive you can conclude for yourself.”
“I’ll be…” Kane leans over on his chair, totally absorbed into the mystery. “What the hell are we looking at?!”
“Beats me, that’s why we require FBI’s aid on this rather delicate matter until we recover the fugitive.”
************
I would have…eventually
They were actually The Joker’s last words, the last sentence he ever said to you. Authorities might believe what Y/N kept repeating was a bunch of gibberish, yet for her it meant something: a phrase related to J’s stubbornness and his unwillingness to comply with the simplest request.
“I know you love me, you don’t have to say it,” you’d lecture an indifferent boyfriend.
“Here we go,” The King of Gotham would acknowledge his ordeal, listening to your tirade nonetheless.
“It’s obvious you do, don’t try to deny it!” you would get so worked up it amused him. “If you don’t want to articulate three words, fine! But what you can do is draw a stupid heart next to mine,” Y/N’s finger would eagerly scribble a heart on the steamy mirror after taking a shower. “Then I’ll be 100% assured of your affection.”
“Who?!” J teased as he was drying his hair with a towel. “And why are we having this conversation in the bathroom?!”
“I’m trying to make it easy for you, ok?” you would hiss, annoyed. “It’s a fair compromise!”
“Very easy,” The Joker grinned. “Let me see…” he cracked his neck like he was preparing for some elaborate workout routine. “Hm…” J debated and shortly there was a little obscenity next to your masterpiece.
“Really?!” the angry woman stomped out of the bathroom with The Clown shouting:
“Come on, Pumpkin. I need practice!”
He needed practice alright; you gave him numerous chances for him to make it up to you. Did he? Naaaahhh.
After weeks of him refusing to fulfill your demand, you gave up on the idea because it was useless: J was a stubborn mule and he wasn’t going to participate in your mind games out of pure spite. You stopped the ritual and of course, The Joker had to underline his affliction:
“How come you don’t bless the steamy mirror with your heart, Princess? I couldn’t wait to exhibit my skills each day!”
“Yeah, with crap! Pretty clear to me you don’t take it seriously. I’m done!” you brushed him off although it was upsetting The King of Gotham was a jerk regarding an issue that was very important to you.
“I would have…eventually,” J found it wise to justify his cockiness. “You’re the one that quit, it’s your fault our art project won’t come to fruition!” he blamed you for his failure to yield.
“Do you think it’s easy to encounter love and keep it?” Y/N inquired and that’s when he realized you seemed hurt.
“Why do you keep on brining this up, Pumpkin?” it was his turn to bite. “I tolerate you, that should be enough.”
“Tolerate me?!” your voice trembled. “You tolerate the weather, J! You tolerate allergies, spicy food, a holiday you can’t stand, you name it! I’m your Queen and at least you should admit you have some feelings for me. God forbids you do that though!”
“What feelings?” the sarcastic Joker puffed.
The slammed door made him roll his eyes.
“Tough crowd,” his majesty maliciously chuckled, super excited he made you snap out of your silly scheme to admit a truth he believed was an aberration.
**************
Heart You stretch your legs under the comfortable blankets, the reality slowly settling in.
6am… so early… but you can’t sleep any longer. It’s quiet at the hideout you were hauled to after the gang came to break you out of the high security prison three days ago.
Weird things happened and your brain has difficulty processing some events; most of days you spent incarcerated were numb, dull and repetitive due to being stuffed with meds supposed to help with your frail mental state.
J was gone… How could anything replace him?…
And then Frost didn’t make any sense when he disclosed the guys were dumbfounded when they bumped into you on the 1stfloor; you told them one of them guided you towards the exit but Jonny insisted nobody made it that far inside the building. The squad forced their way in and it wasn’t easy to make it where you met them: the prison was a fortress!
Plus…you were the only one knowing the passwords for a lot of online accounts and locations for The Joker’s stash, so they had to organize an ambush: your men wanted to get paid and continue to get paid regardless of their boss’s demise. As long as Y/N is alive, the show can go on. The problem is that the show sort of halted for The Queen, no desire to continue with anything. At least for now…
“Are you awake?” Frost makes his presence known.
“Yes, I’m awake,” your nose emerges from under the covers and Jonny reckons you look exhausted.
“Barely touched dinner,” he points at the take-out box left by your bed the previous evening.
“I’m not hungry…”
“You have to eat, Y/N,” Frost settles a new container with breakfast from your favorite restaurant on the nightstand, deciding to test the waters. “If you don’t eat, you’ll…”
“…Turn into a monster,” you finish what J used to tell you on a regular basis: he always insisted that you have to munch on food because he didn’t want to deal with your temper while having an empty stomach.
The sad smile on your face gradually vanishes, giving way to tears and Jonny hands over the Kleenex box he spotted on the floor.
“Do you want me to get rid of some of his things?”
“No,” you shake your head, blowing your nose in the tissue. “His things stay.”
“As you wish.”
“Any updates on what they did with him?” you sniffle and unfortunately Jonny doesn’t have a clue.
“No, nothing yet. We are trying hard to discover if he was cremated or buried in a cemetery.”
“Do you believe he’s in one of those freezers they have in morgues?” the devastated Y/N searches for a comforting answer and Jonny has a hint on why she’s so restless: The King of Gotham hated being cold.
“I hope not…”
“Me too,” you keep wiping your eyes whilst the subject is redirected towards an interesting twist.
“We’re all over the news. The authorities are trying very hard to find you and they offer 1 million dollars to anyone that has any valid information on your whereabouts.”
“Screw them,” you dismiss Frost’s attempt to cheer you up. “I think I’ll take a shower and then I will spend the day in bed.”
“Don’t forget breakfast,” he takes the hint and makes himself scarce as you whisper:
“Yes, dad.”
Y/N drags her feet on the carpet, the objective of enjoying a hot shower on a chilly, early morning constituting the highlight of the day: not too much to be excited about with everything that transpired following The Joker’s death during the heist.
You turn on the water and sneak behind the glass panels, the droplets quite invigorating and you surely need the boost of energy.
A faint clatter noise makes you scout the bathroom.
“Frost? Is that you?”
No reply. It wouldn’t be Frost anyway, he’s not the type that would invade your privacy unless there’s an emergency.
You come out of the shower, the thick steam concealing what you are about to find; as your fingers reach for the toothbrush, you finally notice it: a heart on the foggy mirror.
You’re uncertain how to react since logic defies any interpretation you could come up with about how the drawing ended up here. Unless…
“J?… …” you hesitantly scribble a similar shape before bursting into tears.
The truth is The Queen might not know where The Joker’s body is, but one thing is clear: his heart is where it belongs.
“Curses That Don’t Exist” happens to be one of Y/N’s favorite books and despite the title indicating the maledictions aren’t real, something weird occurred: the hex she wished upon her former boyfriend came true. The woman might not be a sorceress, yet her broken heart turned The Joker into the unlucky recipient of his own self-made hell.
Which curse you wished to come true you ask? It’s very simple: the jinx enabling the one that broke a heart to be incarnated into unhuman life forms 7 times while awaiting atonement. If the cursed person won’t feel any remorse for what they have done by the time he/she reaches the 7th metamorphosis, they will forever be trapped as that last creature.
For The Joker it happened 3 days ago: he was chased by cops after a bank robbery went wrong downtown Gotham City and found himself surrounded on the bridge passing Yukonison River. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide so the unique solution was for him to abandon the vehicle and jump into the treacherous waters.
J never emerged from under the waves because the hex kicked in: he found himself trapped in Y/N’s gravitational field and knowing how much guilt he feels for anything, quite doomed to have his fate sealed by the curse.
1. Skunk
Oh my God, did you panic or what?! You were watering the flowers in the backyard when you saw the skunk charging your way; you threw the hose away and rushed inside, slamming the patio door closed. The animal kept screeching at the entrance, relentlessly clawing the wood frame; it made you wonder if it had rabies or something. The Joker was actually shouting your name, not that you understood:
“Y/N!!! Y/N!! It’s me, let me in! Something eerie is going on! Y/N! It’s J!!! Y/N!!!!!!”
Since you lived near the woods outside Gotham City, you fed a few cute skunks often venturing on the property but that particular specimen didn’t seem familiar.
“Y/N!!! Y/N!!! It’s me, please let me in!” J kept begging and stopped for a few moments. “What the hell is that odor??!!” he sniffed the air towards his tail and gasped. “Holy crap, I stink!!!”
The revelation was quite a shock for the usually very groomed and nice smelling Clown Prince of Crime, thus the 3 baby skunks showing up to see if you left food for them didn’t help.
“Dad!! Dad!!!” they clung to him and The Joker got pissed at the little ones.
“Get lost! I’m not your dad!!! Y/N!! Y/N!!!! Disappear you pests!” he tried to bite them when the real parents scouting the yard for their youngsters saw the scene and attacked J because they perceived him as dangerous.
He split immediately, unwilling to fight the couple already scolding their children:
“What are you kids doing?! I told you not to talk to strangers! We only trust the nice lady that leaves food for us!”
“Sorry dad, we were just messing around…” the oldest apologized and their mom shrieked at their father:
“This all your fault, you spoil them too much!”
In the meantime, J sped up towards the fence and the hex decided he was too far from you, thus he was pulled back by Y/N’s malediction.
2. Spider
This one was really short lived.
You were quite startled by the crazy animal’s behavior, yet it was gone. Thank goodness!
You span on your heels with the brilliant idea of chugging some water from the fridge when your heart skipped a beat: the biggest, nastiest spider you ever saw was moving its creepy legs on the wood floor, swiftly intending to get to you.
“Y/N!!!! Y/N!!!!!” The Joker yelled. “I’m freaking out!!! What’s happening? Help me! Help me, Y/N! Wait, wait! It’s me!!!!” your ex panicked when you grabbed the closest object from the coffee table: your “Curses That Don’t Exist” book. “Hey, don’t! DOOON’T!!!!” Bam! you dropped the tome on the unfortunate recipient of your rage.
“Aaaahhh!” you screamed, appalled. “Take this!!!” you stepped on the publication to make sure the monster won’t escape from under it. “Ha-yaaa!!!” you did it again for good measure, then carefully lifted the book and there was nothing to see.
“Shit!” you bit your lip while searching the premises for the culprit. You could have sworn you got him!
You got him alright, but his body disintegrated as a result of the curse and J woke up in the backyard transformed into another avatar.
3. Snail
Took The Joker two hours to move 3 inches; although the grass wasn’t tall that wasn’t the point. He saw you gardening among the flowers and vegetable patches and strained his tiny lungs to the maximum during a hopeless race with the curse.
“Y/NNNN!!! Help me!! Y/N!!! I’m over here!”
You were minding your own business, totally immersed into your task when you noticed the minuscule creature barely advancing on the ground.
“Hey buddy, what are you doing in the sun, hm?” you picked J up and gently placed him under the apple tree. “Stay in the shade.”
The King of Gotham attempted to get your attention to no avail; Y/N was distracted by the deers emerging from the forest bordering your house.
“There you are; I’ve been waiting for you,” you giggled and snatched the basket filled with apples put aside for them. They all approached waiting for their usual treats as The Clown protested his fate.
“Y/N!!!! Please don’t go! Help me!!! Umph!” he yelped when the crow resting on the branches above spotted the delicious snack which shortly ended up in its beak. “Let go you pile of germs!” J admonished as the bird flew with the prey and the jinx didn’t allow any delays: when the bird was too far from you, puff! The snail vanished.
4. Dog
You just finished the apples for your cute visitors and the crow that wanted to eat the snail landed on your shoulder, cawing up a storm about the ordeal of losing its afternoon feast.
“What’s wrong?” you caressed the velvety feathers since the raven did this on a regular basis: you found him in the forest two years ago with a broken wing, thus you took him home and nurture him until he was healthy. You set him free, but the raven kept returning, often bringing shiny gifts stolen for his savior. You have a box filled with treasures: coins, jewelry, buttons, keys… Even bones.
In time, more crows gathered around the property which is nice because they take care of rodents. Plus, one could say you have your own murder of crows. How neat is that?
The crow split once the barking was heard from the other side of the fence. You snickered at the bird’s reaction, loudly inquiring:
“Rex, is that you?”
The German shepherd belonged to your neighbor two miles up from your residence and loved to wonder off to see Y/N a few days a week.
Actually, it wasn’t Rex barking: it was The Joker as a curly poodle imploring for assistance.
“Y/N!!!! Help me please!!! I’m not sure what the heck is happening! Y/NNN!!! Do something!! Stop sniffing my butt, weirdo!” he snapped at Rex who was actually there also, taking interest in the newcomer. “Squirrel!!!” J detected a fur ball in the acorn across the street and couldn’t hold in in: both canines dashed to catch the menace.
Unfortunately, that meant he was too far from you and whoosh! he disappeared, heading towards his next reincarnation.
5. Squirrel
J materialized in your pine nut tree, assiduously shoving seeds in his mouth without realizing.
He watched Rex enjoying the food and water you offered, then he came to his senses.
“What the fuck am I doing??!!” he spat out the seeds then crawled down, making a run for it. “Y/N!!!!Help me!!! Y/N!!!!”
Rex’s ears went straight up and he shrugged at the sight of a nuisance he liked to chase.
You laughed while the dog chasing the fluffy squirrel all over the place; you wouldn’t have probably been amused by The Joker’s screams though.
“Y/N!!! Quit it, you stupid dog!!!First you sniff my butt and now this??? Y/N!!! I have to talk to you!! Y/N!!! Help!!”
The King didn’t have an opportunity to get close to you; the solution was to jump over the shed and scamper into the forest. When he was to far… puff! Gone and back to Y/N.
6. Mosquito
“Poor baby,” you caressed Rex’s big head, giggling. He kept whimpering, upset he lost his toy. “You should leave the squirrels alone, they don’t want to play with you.”
Bzzzzzzz, you perceived the sound, yet you didn’t see J. Bzzzzzzzz….
“Y/N, I’m completely flipping out!!! You gotta help me!! Y/N!!”
Everything you discerned was a bunch of bzzzzzz, bzzzz, bzzzz… the insect landed on your wrist.
“A-ha!” you slowly moved your fingers from Rex’s soft coating. Slap! you caught the offender and when you gazed under your palm… zero, zip, nada. How strange…
No doubt you managed to seize the mosquito: that only meant J’s incarnation was done and he hopped into the next one.
7. Cat
This morning you found a cute gray cat on the patio, meowing at the sliding door until you opened it.
“Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow,” the pet sneaked inside the house, sniffing the air. The Joker was whining about his hardships to a woman that didn’t comprehend nor was aware of whom he was.
“Hey kitty,” you bent over and scratched its side.
“Maaaawwww,” the cat yawned, super exhausted after such eventful adventures.
“Who do you belong to, hm?” you searched for a collar and there was none. “Com’ere, “ you lifted J up in your arms and he touched your mouth with his left front paw.
“Y/N, it’s me!!! It’s J!”
“Aren’t you friendly?” you kissed the pink cushions, smiling. “Let’s see if any of the neighbors lost their cat. You don’t look familiar,”’ you concluded because you’re acquainted with all the pets in the area.
“Maaaw, maw, maw.”
Also a meowadded for the hell of it.
“You’re talkative. What are you saying?” you chuckled and picked up the phone, dialing the numbers of all the people residing around you. Nobody reported any new pet or male cat missing.
The King almost fell asleep in your embrace but something got his attention.
“Oh my God!” he gasped and darted on the kitchen table when he saw a slice of Y/N’s Scrumptious Royal Apple Pie on a plate. How he missed the taste of his favorite desert! His ex-girlfriend was an excellent cook and baker– pretty much everything she prepared became his favorite. She made the recipe before they were together, yet once they were an item she added a crown made of dough for The King of Gotham right in the middle of the pie. That’s how Y/N Scrumptious Apple Pie became Royal too.
There was no trace of a crown now and hasn’t been for the last 7 months, not that it bothered J.
“No kitty, no!” you reprimanded and tried to separate the cat from the food. “I don’t think that’s good for you!”
The deep growl coming from the impromptu visitor warned he won’t put up with it.
“Fine, suit yourself. If you get sick it will be your fault.”
You supervised the beast scarfing down the pastry, then once his belly was full The Joker stretched and was instantly removed from the table.
“This was an exception, mister. You’re not allowed on the kitchen table, ok?”
“Meooow,” J got cozy in your arms again.
“You’re a handsome fellow, aren’t you?” you studied your new protégé. “Such blue eyes! My former boyfriend had blue eyes…” Y/N pouted and grumbled. “And a PHD in bullshit.”
“Maaaww,” the sharp teeth sunk in your skin.
“Ouch! Hey! No! Bad kitty!” you squeezed the furry cat and he released his hold. “Mister, I’m having seconds thoughts about keeping you for the moment!”
“You asked for it, Y/N! I don’t have a PHD in bullshit! I’m purposely being perfect, understand?…Ugh, I didn’t mean to bite you! You have to help me! Please Y/N!” The Joker lamented and you found it adorable the animal reached for your face until the whiskers tickled your cheek.
“Aren’t you vocal?” the smirking woman untangled her white hair from the cats’ claws.
Y/N’s hair turned white in her early twenties and never dyed it; she said some people pay money to have silver locks thus she kept it natural.
“Are you thirsty?” you carried your companion across the living room towards the bathroom where you turned on the water in the sink for him. “I’ll get you a dish, ok? This is just temporary.”
J licked the water in a frenzy as Y/N abandoned him and went on the couch to watch a movie and relax. He found you sipping on your coffee so he curled up in your lap, exhausted.
“Comfortable?” you pated the blue eyed monster purring on your knees. “At least you like my thighs, unlike my ex,” you frowned at the memory. “I caught him staring…I think he hated my thighs. They’re not exactly small…”
“What?” J was suddenly alert. “No, I liked your thighs; that’s why I was glaring!”
“You’ll like sleeping on my tummy too. I definitely don’t have a six pack. I think he detested my tummy,” the increasingly annoyed Y/N raised her voice. “Well, he can enjoy his perfect Bianca! If he didn’t like me the way I am it’s his loss!!”
“What are you taking about?!” the meowing wouldn’t stop. “I liked your tummy! When did I stated otherwise?!”
The truth is he didn’t say a word about it either way which later translated into you believing he detested your body each instance you noticed him averting his eyes when caught staring.
“It’s my cousin’s fault!” you huffed, irritated to the maximum.
Richard aka Panda has been on your shit list since you and J broke up because he always bragged about what an amazing cook you are, thus his boss had to find out for himself. That’s how it all started then it ended up in flames. Definitely no glory.
Y/N seized the cell phone next to her, snarling in the mike:
“You need to go outside?” you asked at the excruciating noises.
The Joker fought your decision; nevertheless, he was left on the porch without too many options besides mooching nearby waiting for you to let him back in.
Meanwhile, a flock of sparrows landed on the trees close to your house, chirping questions for the deers walking on the path leading to the apple shrub:
“Hey, hey! Can you tell us if this is the place where the witch lives?”
“U-hum,” the majestic buck with huge antlers replied at more wildlings being drawned to her.
“We made it, she’s here!” the flock joyfully chirped and one of the small fawns was curious about the conversation:
“Dad, is the lady that gives us apples a witch?!”
The buck bowed his head in sign of respect, explaining to the little ones: “Of course she is. She just doesn’t know it yet.”
AN: we’re just gonna. pretend hoyt keeps a mini fridge in his office. for the sake of simplicity. thanks. Originally a list of headcanons but I kinda drew ‘em out and turned them into a scenario. Thank you for your patience.
Summary:You love Arthur, and Arthur loves you - and neither of you could stand to see the other hurt. Arthur always so adamantly defended you and stood up for you when you failed to do so for yourself, but you began to feel as if maybe - maybe- you weren’t doing yourjob of defending him like you should’ve been.
Luckily, one day in Arthur’s haze of exhaustion does he forget something at home on his way to work one morning, and you decide to bring it to him - giving you the perfectopportunity to give those who handle him roughly a small piece of your mind.
Words:4041
Neither you nor Arthur were very assertive.
Though both of you could be when the time came for it, very quickly was it learned that more often than not, it was best to just let things go, in Gotham; everyone knew that it was best to just avoid the fight that would inevitably come with confrontation - avoid the problems, the anger, and the violence that seemed to be lurking around every corner. No one in the city liked to accept responsibility for their shitty behavior, and any sort of criticism - whether warranted or not - only led to more anger and violence, and neither you nor Arthur had the energy to deal with it on most days.
The passive attitude the two of you had long since adopted was both a blessing and a curse for the two of you; a blessing as you could so easily let things go and not letting them fester and bother you for days to come - but also a curse, as that passiveness was often taken as weakness- and being perceived as weakonly tempted others to try and take advantage of you. They’d think that they could just push, and push, and push- that they could just walk all over whomever they pleased, and that the one who was weakwould just sit there and take it without any form of argument, push back, or resistance.
In a way, it was almost comical. Where the two of you lacked in standing up for yourselves individually, did the other one come in. You both knew what it was like to be hurt and abused, and from your love for each other came the desire to protectthe other and keep them safe in the streets of the city. You wouldn’t stand to see your other half get hurt and exploited - and so you’d readily and happilystep in to stand up for them if they were having a hard time doing so for themselves. Perhaps a bit of an unhealthy dynamic, but one that worked for the both of you and usually kept either of you from getting hurt.
In your time together, Arthur had stood up for you time and time again; at the market, when a woman roughly shoved you aside without any hesitation or apology so she could cut in front of you in line, then again on the street minutes later when you’d had insults and slurs thrown at you by total strangers just because they felt like it, and then that time on the subway when someone decided that they didn’t like how you glanced at them for a fraction of a second and tried to start a fight. Arthur hated far little else as much as he hated seeing you get hurt and disrespected, and so out of what seemed like nowhere would he become bursting with a type of energy and confidence that you rarely ever saw, sticking up for you without even a hintof that same insecurity and hesitance that typically kept him from helping himself in similar situations.
It was sweet of him, but how angryyou’d get at yourself for not being able to do the same for him nearly as much as he did for you. Arthur never came right out and saidthat anyone was tormenting him or anything, but judging by the way he spoke about his days at work with the occasional mention of a name or two, you had a feeling that he wasn’t exactly very well respected at Haha’s - or, really, anywhere he went, for that matter.
Just from his stories alone did you know how much of a domineering bullyhis coworker Randall could be, and how he always passed it off as just him havin’ a laugh with his boy and that of courseArtie knew he was just playin’; how much Hoyt overworked Arthur, using any excuse he could to underpay and berate him for things completely unrelated to him, and how Penny - Arthur’s own mother- would often totally ignore Arthur’s own needs and wants, so self focused on herself that she apparently failed to see any problem in dismissing and belittling her own son’s dreams and goals, completely undermining how hardworking and deserving he truly was.
While just being aware that it happened hurt you, it didn’t pain you nearlyas much as it did to know Arthur seemed to just let that stuff happen - but deep down, you knew that wasn’t really the case. You knew what would happen if he stood up for himself; it would just open him up to more ridicule, more bullying, more harassment - none which anything that Arthur needed to deal with more. It was much less of him just lettingit happen, and more of him being powerlessin the face of it, the more you thought about it. Powerless and vulnerable - two things you hated to think of him as.
In a way, you were angry at the city itself and those around him who you had no doubt saw the mistreatment as it happened - but did nothing to help. As guilty as the perpetrators were they, in your eyes.
But Arthur’s struggle to stand up for himself and the voyeur-esque attitudes of those around him didn’t mean that youhad to just sit there and let it happen, too.
Ever since the two of you had begun dating, you’d both been on top of making sure that the other took care of themselves properly, and that included making sure they were eating well. You knew how Arthur rarely had time at work to stop in anywhere and eat, and how he had even less pocket money than he did time, so you picked up on making small, easy lunches that he could grab on the way out the door to take with him. They were always simple things; sandwiches, leftovers from the previous night packed securely in Tupperware, occasionally you’d bake some cookies and send a few of those - just random, small, easy things that you could afford, and Arthur appreciated them more than he could even begin to express. He almost broke down into tears the first time you presented him with a lunch you’d packed for him; a brown paper lunch bag, the top of it rolled in securely, with your bubbly handwriting reading Artiewith a big heart across both sides.
This became a routine for you, and most nights a week you’d take an extra few minutes to prepare something for him. He’d always ask if he could help, feeling ever soguilty that you were going out of your way to care for him, but you always brushed it off with a shrug, telling him you were doing it because you lovedhim - as well as tossing in a playful comment here and there about how what you were making him was a top secret surprise so he was temporarily banned from the kitchen while you did so.
He was always so good about remembering to grab what you made him, but one morning after a night of actually managing to sleepand subsequently oversleeping, so exhausted was he that on the way out the door he forgot to grab what you’d put together for him. By the time you opened the fridge realized he’d left it behind he was already long gone, but given the fact that his workplace was only a five minute walk and a 15 minute bus ride away and you had the day off you figured the least you could do was bring it to him, and so you slipped on your shoes and jacket and set out.
The commute was uneventful, but the closer you actually got to Haha’s, the more did a sinking feeling settle into the pit of your stomach; a nagging, gnawing, almost warningpang of anxiety that seemed to be telling you to brace yourself for whatever you were going to have to put up with once you arrived. It was the feeling you typically had when you were about to pass by a rough looking group on the street, the same feeling you got when you knew you were about to run into trouble - and you knew that the trouble your subconscious was trying to warn you of was most likely Arthur’s coworkers.
And once you actually arrived at Haha’s did you wish you’d listened to it and braced yourself better.
For starters, there was no response when you rang the bell. The sign taped on the door felt like it was almost taunting you; HaHa’s Talent Booking Agency, Please Ring Bell, with a crudely drawn arrow pointing to the doorbell that was either so quiet no one heard it, or totally out of service and thus, useless.
It was frustrating - it was nearly nine at that point and you knew that Arthur had a gig early that morning, so the chances of him still being there were incredibly slim and you didn’t want to leave his things with anyone but him. It took a good minute of debate, but you mustered up every bit of courage you had and with a deep breath pulled the door open. You wanted to go in, find a safe place to leave his lunch, and leave. Nothing more, nothing less.
Immediately did the air of the interior slam you in the face; it was warmer than the air outside was, and thick and heavy with the hazy scent of cigarette smoke and mildew slamming you in the face. An unpleasant greeting, and you held your breath on the way up the stairs and through the hallway until you ended up in what you figured was the main room.
The room itself wasn’t what was bad, considering it was Gotham city and most buildings needed a good bit of repair, but the atmosphere itselfwas what made you feel more sick to your stomach than the air that was thick with scent of cigarette smoke and sweat did.
Most conversation came to a halt, voices trailing off and words cut short as everyone’s attention turned to you once the creak of the floor under your footsteps was heard. Men in their thirties, forties, and probably even fiftiesturned to look at you; some of them looking amused, some annoyed, and some undeniably hungry.
You smiled, albeit incredibly awkwardly, at them, hoping that a friendly disposition would be enough to stave off any sort of crude comments any of them may make, and as you were about to speak up and ask where Arthur was, two words into your question were you interrupted by a particularly large man on the other side of the room.
“Oh, well, well, who d’we got here?” He thumbed at the suspenders that held up his oversized red trousers as he sauntered over to you, a lazy, lopsided, poor attempt at a friendly grin spread on his face. “You lost, sweetheart?”
It took most of your self restraint to not roll your eyes at the name, and instead you kept up your smile. “Oh - no, actually. I’m here for someone, but I don’t see him -”
“Yeah? Who around here could you possiblywant anything to do with?”
Yet again did he interrupt you - but in that second did you realize who heactually was. You knew that this was Randall, and he fit the exact image you’d had in your head of him: tall, sleazy, and obnoxious - but you weren’t about to let him have his way with you like he so often did others.
Straightening up, you looked him in the eye as any trace of geniality that was once present vanished from your face. “Arthur. I’m his girlfriend, and I need to see him for something.”
A handful of the men scattered around the room choked back laughs. A quick look around showed that a good chunk of them found your comment funny enough to scoff at, most uncaring that you’d caught them smirking at the apparent utter absurdity that Arthur Fleck had a girlfriend. They couldn’t believe it, and Randall especially seemed to get a kick out of how unlikely it was.
“Aw, c’mon,” He reached forward to nudge your shoulder with his hand, a poor attempt at being playful. “Artie’s not here right now, but I’m surehe wouldn’t mind sharin’ with us. Why don’t you come sit with us? We’d love to meet you.”
You stepped backwards. “No, thank you, really. I’m just here for Arthur, and I have somewhere else I need to be. Is there someplace I can leave this so he’ll get it?” You held the bag up for a second long enough so he could get a look, but you absolutely did nottrust any of them enough to leave Arthur’s belongings anywhere near them. Considering how often they teased Arthur, you figured it wasn’t too far fetched to assume that they’d have no issue fucking with his stuff, and the suspicion of it alone was enough to make you immediately distrust the lot of them.
Not even taking the hint, Randall continued on. “C’mon, don’t be such a stick in the mud, sweetheart. You can leave it with us, yeah? I’m dying to know what you brought our Arthur.”
TheirArthur. It was a comment you had to once again stop yourself from rolling your eyes at, but by that point you’d had well more than enough. You’d made it clear you didn’t want to leave it with them or stay there with them, yet he just kept pushing. One thing you hated was someone who couldn’t - who wouldn’t- take no for an answer.
“You know,” You stepped up to him, ignoring the fact that you couldn’t properly square him up considering he had at least half a foot on you in height. “I know I don’t reallyknow you that well, but from just this interaction I can already tell that Arthur is more of a man than you could ever even dream of being. At least he can take no for an answer - something you should work on, sweetheart.”
You spoke sweetheartwith a spat of venom; enunciating it condescendingly enough to get the point across. This was the first time you’d even met the guy, but just from his presence alone could you tell that even if it weren’t for already knowing what he put Arthur through that you stillwouldn’t like him. He wasn’t an ass in a blunt, high-school bully type of way; rather it was a subtle, almost passive aggressive, domineering form of teasing that seemed to put those around him into some strange position of submission so he was left free to poke fun at them however he pleased - modeled perfectly so any retaliation could be shrugged off with an excuse of “C’mon, I was just kidding around.”
“Is there anywhere I can leave this?” Your impatience was evident at this point; your foot tapping, and you were hesitant to make any eye contact with the men as you looked about the room. At this point you just wanted to get out of there - you hadn’t intended for any of this to happen today, and while you were almost mad at yourself for being so rude with Randall and causing such a stir, you weren’t in the mood to put up with this situation orhim, and to say he deserved it would’ve been an understatement.
Of all the men in the room, while most of them were large in stature, it was ironically enough the smallest of them that seemed to be able to find it in him to respond to your question. A small, balding man of about four feet tall who stood at his locker, quietly watching the exchange before he reached a hand out, pointing towards the hallway behind you. “Hoyt keeps a spot in his office, you could leave it with him. I’ll let Arthur know when I see him.”
With a smile and an appreciative nod of your head, you turned around and headed down the hallway, ignoring the chatter of the men as you left. Thankfully, the section of the building was small and apart from the descending stairs and a doorway right at the top labeled Restroom, there was only a short hallway with a door at the far end - the peeling, chipping letters spelling O fice stuck to it.
You knocked, and through the window of the door could you see that - whom you presumed to be Hoyt - either didn’t hear you, or couldn’t be bothered to respond. With the nature of the place it wasn’t too out there to assume it was most likely the latter, but not wanting to be rude you knocked again - only for him to shout an irritated “What?” from his desk, muffled through the door as he couldn’t be bothered to look up as you pushed the door open.
“Can I help you?” Finallydid he look up at you, taking his eyes from whatever he was writing and focusing on you.
“Oh, yeah, sorry - I was told there was a spot I could leave this, in here? It’s food, for Arthur.” You held the bag up, and Hoyt glanced between you and it, his eyebrow raised as he scrutinized you.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Arthur’s girlfriend.”
“Arthur.Girlfriend.” Hoyt laughed at that, shaking his head before he went back to writing, the cigarette that was smoking away in the ashtray stinking the room up. “Jesus, those are two words that don’t belong together.”
“How come everyone has such a hard time believing that Arthur could be in a relationship?” You knew you had to speak carefully; say the wrong thing, piss off his boss or one of his coworkers enough, and it wouldn’t be you in trouble - it would be Arthur who’d end up paying for it. “He’s great, he’s a hard worker and he’s really nice, unlike a lot of people nowadays. He’s taken for granted way too much.”
Hoyt only hummed in response, unamused. Sure.
“Imeanit, those guys out there are awful to him. You seriously don’t hear it?”
“Look, as long as they work and don’t get into trouble on company time, I stay out of it. They’re grown men and I ain’t their parent.”
“Hoyt, I know this is the first time I’ve been around here, but Arthur is one of the hardest workers you have here. He comes home exhaustedall the time, and rarely ever takes a day off. He hates causing problems, so the least you could do for him is tell the others to knock it off when they’re bothering him.”
You thought you could see the subtle bob of a nod from him, but you wouldn’t bet much on it. “You can put that in there,” He pointed with his pen towards the far corner of the room, where nestled between a stack of boxes and the window was a small, off-white, chipping mini fridge that probably needed to be replaced. “The others won’t mess with it if it’s in there.”
Once Arthur’s lunch was tucked safely between another brown paper bag and a Tupperware container with contents that you couldn’t discern, you offered little more than a hurried thank you to Hoyt as you left the room, turning left, hopping down the stairs and back out the door without looking back.
You never wanted to go back, but you hoped what you said had at least made some impact.
Whether Arthur was completely unaware of what you had done at Haha’s or he didn’t know how to bring it up you weren’t sure, but one thing you did know was how he seemed almost… lighter, that night. Usually, when he came home he was tired, dragging his feet as he was weighed down by both his fatigue and the stress that came just from living in the kind of city the two of you did, but Arthur seemed cheerful - almost giddy,that night. His shoulders weren’t slouched, and he wasn’t dragging his feet like he tended to from his exhaustion; instead, when he came through the apartment door, he greeted you at your spot at the sink where you were washing dishes by turning you from the counter, his right arm coming to wrap around your waist and his left hand to your face so he could kiss you in a deeper manner than he typically did when he came home from work, gracefully spinning the two of you so you were pressed between his body and the edge of the counters
Whatever was going on, you absolutely weren’tgoing to argue with it.
After checking in with each other did he excuse himself to the bathroom so he could wash off the remaining streaks of white greasepaint that clung to the sharp edges of his jaw, and you finished up the dishes, settling down on the couch, trying to think of options you could cook up for dinner as Arthur returned, taking a seat next to you.
“Thank you, again, sweetheart for bringing my lunch today,” Arthur said, his voice soft and his words grateful as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, taking a seat next to you on the couch. “I’m lucky to have you.”
“Oh,Happy,” Penny interjected before you could answer your boyfriend, her attention taken from the television by Arthur’s words and she looked towards the pair of you. “You forgot something again, and Y/N had to bring it to you?”
She had a certain look on her face - her eyes narrowed, her eyebrows raised as she scolded her son. You almost asked her what she meant by againas this was, as far as you could remember, the only time you had to bring Arthur something he forgot - but questioning didn’t matter. Not right now. You were already on a roll today, and you weren’t about to let Penny of all people now dig at Arthur, and tear down his good mood.
“Pen, Arthur is stressed, overworked, and exhausted. You can’t expect him to be on top of everything all the time,” You leaned back on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV as in your annoyance you couldn’t bother to look at her. “Besides, he deserves to have someone help him out. He’s always taking care of us and things here, and it’s only right that I look out for him, too. It’s unfair for him to have to do everything when he already works so hard.”
“Well, he always has been a hard worker. Maybe a little too hard, you don’t think I don’t see how tired you are all the time? Those sleeping pills of yours don’t seem to be working.” She said, redirecting her attention from you back to Arthur. “You’re lucky you have Y/N, she helps keep you in line.”
“I think it’s the other way around,” You laughed, though Penny was hardly amused. Arthur, as per usual, didn’t say anything about his mother’s critique of him. “I think Arthur’s taken for granted, way too often. He’s funny, and I have no doubt that he’s one of the best guys that a girl could ever ask for.”
You figured you should stop before your poor boyfriend at your side was reduced to nothing but a puddle on the floor, and you could tell how embarrassed he was from not only how adamantly you defended him, but how you spoke of his character as well, by how tightly his hand was holding your own, his face angled away from his mother and yourself.
You didn’t want to stop, though. If you could, you’d sing praises of him to the damn heavens themselvesif that’s what it took for your boyfriend to get the respect and recognition he deserved.
You turned to him, your hand cupping his face and pulling him to look at you as you brought your face close to his, whispering to him before you pressed a kiss to his lips -
“I mean it. I love you, Arthur. You’re one of the best, and one day everyone’s gonna realize it.”
Joker once said and I quote, “ Introduce a little anarchy. Upset the established order,and everything becomes chaos. I’m and agent of chaos. Oh, and you know the thing about chaos? It’s fair!”
