Archive of Our Own

For roughly a year now, you have been in a situationship, for lack of a better word, with Gotham’s most wanted man, the Joker. From the moment you crossed paths, you became his somewhat safe haven, though he would never articulate it this way. Through the months, he would secretly see you after the night, crashing at your place to sleep during the day, while you carried on with your much more common life.

While you knew the risks involved in hosting such a dangerous criminal, you always welcomed him with open arms. The moments spent together were almost normal; he would excitingly explain his ideas, share one occasional meal with you, get ready before leaving for work, and even spend some time with you.

Most days, you would hear him coming home in the early hours of the morning, when it was still dark and silent outside. Moving silently like a cat in your apartment, you would hardly hear him crawling in bed, if not for the movements of the covers, until you would feel an arm brushing your skin, holding you tightly. Sometimes, the excitement still running freshly through his body would make him undress you, kiss you, caress you until you would wake, already panting and ready to welcome inside of you his erect member, fingers, or any other thing he deemed fit. Once his essence spilled, he would quickly fall asleep in your arms, satisfied.

Despite the somewhat normal elements of your daily life, being romantically involved with the Joker was nothing like a normal relationship. There were no dinners at the restaurant, no going out with friends or family, and no discussion of the future. He would, however, show you that he cared differently; taking you on top of high buildings of Gotham to observe the starry night or bringing you to underground places you ignored the existence, showing you like a trophy to his men, who would not dare touching one strand of your hair.

Yet, you craved some sort of normalcy, a reminder of the reality and depth of your relationship. And no matter how many times he bit your neck while thrusting inside of you, no matter how passionate his kisses were between two moans, not once did you hear him pronounce the few words that would make your relationship more tangible. And this year would be no different.

Though, it was not because you were fully aware of your situation that you were used to it, and the most romantic day of the year reinforced your melancholy. Perhaps it was your pride talking, but you refused to sink into a bottomless pit of self-pity on Valentine’s Day. As you spent most of the day alone at home, you desperately fought the tears, your annoyed looks at the romantic movies playing on television, even your disappointed sighs at each hour passing.

Until enough was enough, it was time to take matters into your own hands. During the afternoon, you passed in front of a lingerie shop. Contemplating the models, from the more classic pieces to the most delicate and intricate works, you wondered which one was the best for you. Reluctantly at first, you finally decided you would at least feel beautiful for him, regardless whether he would notice it or not. It took you half an hour to find the right model, before you left the shop content with your acquisition; a beautiful deep red lace ensemble composed of a bra and panties.

During the evening, you focused on your sultry ritual, consisting of a warm bath, applying lotion on your soft skin, making sure your hair looked right, and finally wearing your inviting lingerie, covered in a not so innocent silk robe. One last look at the mirror confirmed your beauty.

The rattling sound of the key in the lock startled you, and quickly you took position on the bed, falsely reading a novel, feigning indifference, in the almost obscurity of the bedroom, merely illuminated by the lamp on your nightstand. For a brief instant, you realized how predictable, how blindingly obvious you were, but decided that this was just as good. Not all games needed to be subtle.

At the sound of his footsteps penetrating the appartement, your heart raced. It was terribly difficult to act natural and wait for him to simply discover you, but you knew it would be worth the wait. He finally reached your bedroom and raised his eyebrows in surprise, his eyes shining at the view of your delicately sheer nightgown, not leaving much room for imagination. A bright smile illuminating his face comforted you in the idea that your efforts paid off.

– Well, what do we have here ?’’ He cooed, throwing his coat on the chair of your desk, loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves. You lifted your eyes from your book and looked at him, feigning ignorance. He slowly crawled in bed, his hands spreading your thighs, making you straddle him, and took your book from your hands, throwing him away, still observing you with burning and starving eyes. 

– I was reading that, you know ?’’ You playfully commented, knowing full well he would not believe you one bit.

– Oh, I’m sure you were’’ He growled, untying the thin belt of your nightgown, like he would open a gift –and what a gift it was, when he discovered your provocative lingerie flattering every intimate part of you. At the view of your inviting body, he sighed and licked his lips. You laid on your back, observing him getting aroused; his eyes widened, his pupils were dilating, his breath was irregular. One hand was caressing your thigh, while the other was caressing your hair.

– All for me ?’’ He asked in a deep voice that made you shiver. You slightly smiled, and felt immensely confident, frisky even.

– You like it ?’’ You innocently replied, fluttering your eyelashes, making him laugh. He passed a hand underneath you to pull your body and removed your nightgown, which he promptly threw away. His fingers ran on your thighs, as he was contemplating your body, detailing every part of you.

– It just misses one thing’’ He whispered, amused, fumbling into his pocket until he took out a tube of lipstick. At the view of the shiny object, you bit your lips in anticipation. With his thumb, he removed the cap and twisted it until his signature red color appeared. His other hand grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him.

Naturally, you sensually pursed your lips and closed your eyes. You felt his hand caressing your face, then the cold lipstick delicately gliding on your lips, adding multiple layers of shiny red on the thin skin of your mouth. It felt like a subtle and sensual caress. When he removed his hand, you opened your eyes, staring into the depth of his hazel eyes.

– Better ?’’ you cooed. Your nerve made him smile widely, before he chuckled, and nodded his head.

– Not yet’’ he answered in a deep voice, putting the lipstick on your nightstand, and caressing the skin of your thighs.

He lowered his body and kissed your neck softly. You hummed at the caress of his lips against your skin, and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, rolling your hips against his lap, noticing his already hard erection through his pants.

A warm hand slipped under your back, unclasping your bra, revealing your soft breasts. He cocked an eyebrow, visibly aroused by your bare skin, a sigh escaping his amused mouth. Without further ceremony, he lowered himself and took your breast in his mouth, licking it, kissing it, nibbling on it. The delicious mix of sensations made your stomach burn; your cunt, already wet and throbbing with anticipation, was now drenched in desire for him. The tip of his tongue rolling on your nipple made you sigh, until he passionately sucked on it, turning the soft moans in an urging plea. Meanwhile, a free hand played with your neglected nipple, rolling it between his fingers.

His name became a melody you kept singing between two moans, filling your room with delicious sounds, accompanied by his soft thrusts against your aching cunt. While the anticipation made you out of breath, he kept decorating your body with red marks of lipstick.

He mercifully let go of your breast and lowered his touch, until he reached to your stomach, that he licked, kissed, devoured, marking it with his red tinted lips. Satisfied with the mess he created, he removed himself, took the lipstick from your nightstand, and began tracing forms on your body, stomach, breasts, shoulders; from your position you could not see what it was, but the ticklish sensation was a subtle torture for you, craving his deeper touch.

You felt the texture of his lipstick gliding on your feverish skin, like a painting brush on a blank canvas. There were swirls, lines, circling your belly button, caressing your nipples, coloring your breasts, slipping on your stomach. He looked amused, biting his lips, muffling an occasional chuckle, and finally contemplated his work. Your watery eyes, burning with need, and your blushing cheeks made him smile, proud even.

Once he was finished, he put the lipstick back on the nightstand. Delicately, he removed your last piece of fabric, your panties, revealing your throbbing and drenched pussy. At the view of your folds covered in juices, a gentle moan escaped his mouth. Steadily, he grabbed your thighs and lifted them, adjusted his body, then lowered himself.

The contact of his warm and soft tongue on your folds immediately made you scream. He tucked a strand of hair that was getting in the way behind his ear and lapped your juices. The pleasure, intense and raw, made you roll your lips, crying his name, which only motivated him more, as he sucked on your inner labias before pushing his longue tongue inside your burning entrance, closing his eyes, only enjoying the music you made and your sweet taste.

His hands were caressing your thighs and stomach as his tongue fucked you, before he went back to sucking on your folds, and swollen clitoris. He retrieved one of his hands to effortlessly insert two fingers inside of you, while his mouth was solely stimulating your bundle of nerves, alternatively licking and sucking on it.

The pleasure of his fingers curling inside of you made you scream and beg him for more, your back arching, now a slave to his touch, as your fingers disappeared in his green curls. He inserted another finger in you, fucking you fast, licking your juices and sucking on your clitoris, when you felt your orgasm coming.

– J, I’m close !’’ You screamed, inviting him to fuck you with his fingers harder. 

– Come for me, doll’’ He replied between your folds, one hand caressing your inner thighs. At his words, you felt your walls contracting, spasms in your body, and you screamed as you orgasmed. The Joker waited until your last moan to slowly remove his fingers out of you. He then crawled back on top of you, brushing his fingers on your mouth, making you suck on them lovingly.

– See how good you taste ?’’ He whispered, his eyes shining even brighter.

After a moment, he removed his fingers from your mouth and rolled on his side, looking at you with tired eyes. You could tell how exhausted he was from his day, yet he took the time to worship you. You smiled at him, then kissed his gleaming lips.

– I better clean myself before going to bed then’’ You playfully said, leaving the bed and heading to the bathroom, where the view of your decorated body startled you. Your body was covered in love marks from his kisses, drawn hearts and words. "Beautiful", "Mine", "Perfect" were written all over you with lipstick, along with one smaller sentence on your stomach: I love you.

Your fast heartbeat filled the room, and tears shined in your eyes, as you washed the makeup on your body, now filled with immense joy. Once done, you crawled back to bed where the Joker seemingly passed out, and softly kissed his lips. 

– I love you’’ you whispered.

– Love you too, darling’’ he answered, half asleep.