Bunny - Heath Ledger!Joker x Fem!Reader
(Part 5)
Pairing: Joker x Fem!Reader Joker x Reader with Anxiety
Word Count: 9030
Warnings: Joker, possibly manipulative behaviour, toxic relationship(ish)
Summary: Y/n needs to go back to uni after being away for so long, but she has no idea what she is in for
(MASTERLIST) (Part 4) -
A/N: It has been a hOT minute for me to get around to this one, i am sO sorry guys 😭 I've been so caught up with life *big things* and also just writing other fics, but i had a little birdy in the ao3 comments asking me when im dropping the new chapter *ho* lol, so got my ass on it, sorry guys, haha This one, again, is also pretty short, but I didn't have much planned for this chapter anyways, so here it is! hope you enjoy this part :P
-
It had been a couple of days since Joker’s dramatic return, and the safe house had turned into something almost domestic. Y/n was finally back on her feet, the fever gone, her colour returning, and her energy no longer drained with every blink.
She’d spent those days holed up with Joker, who rarely let her out of his sight. He’d lounge on the couch, flip TV channels, or scribble in his notebooks while tinkering with weapons and possible bombs, while she curled up beside him, watching his restless behaviour.
But Y/n knew she couldn’t stay hidden away forever. She had classes, lectures, assignments, new content and whatever she had ignored in the past week.
So when she brought it up, “J…I need to go back uni this week.”
Joker’s reaction was exactly what she expected. “…Do you have to?” he drawled, a comedic pout on his face as he was slumped on the couch, still in full makeup but dressed down in a ratty tank top and boxers, looking both ridiculous and oddly at home.
Though as unserious as his expression, the fact of the matter remained. He didn’t like this idea one bit.
“Yes,” Y/n said firmly, folding her arms, standing up from her seat across from J. “I can’t just drop uni, mid way through the year, J. And…I need to keep some kind of normal.”
Joker sat up slowly, his eyes beady as he stared at her. “Normal?” he began fidgeting with his hands. “Bunny, you’re with me. Normal packed its bags and skipped town the second you hopped in my van.”
She sighed, pushing her hair back nervously. “I know. But I can’t just…do nothing. I’m here on a scholarship, and they might drop me from the course if I don’t attend. I have to go back.”
For a moment, he just stared at her, that grin curling across his scarred face, though there was no humour in it. He leaned back again, tapping his hands against his knee. “…And what am I supposed to do while you’re off in a classroom, Hmm? Sit here and, uh…twiddle my thumbs, wait for my Bunny to come skipping home with her homework?”
Y/n rolled her eyes, stepping closer to him. “Just…go back to doing what you usually do.” Her words were lighthearted, but the unspoken meaning lingered heavy between them. She was talking about his life of crime, though she couldn’t quite bring herself to say it outright.
Joker caught her wrist as she tried to pass, tugging her down to sit beside him. His hand stayed on her wrist while his other rested behind her. “…I don’t like it.” His tone had lost its theatrics, now something low and serious.
Her heart softened, but she still held her ground. “Listen…I have a two week break coming in a couple weeks. I know you don’t like it, but just let me get through what I need to and then I’m all yours.”
He tilted his head, his nose grazing her cheek. “Mm. I don’t just dislike it, Bunny. I hate it.”
Y/n sighed, letting out a breathy laugh. “I need to go back to my dorm too, J...”
If his stare had been sharp before, it was downright cutting now, the painted grin now something mocking. “What?”
Y/n exhaled slowly, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. Talking to him sometimes really was like talking to a stubborn child. “I pay to stay at that dorm, J. I’d actually like to use it. And being stuck out here? It’s like forty minutes just to get to Uni. It’s not the big deal you’re making it out to be.”
Joker tilted his head, the huff he let out sounding more like a growl than a laugh. “So what–you’re telling me this is about money? About convenience? Hmm?”
“J, I’m not gonna argue with you about this,” Y/n said firmly. “Tomorrow I’ll leave from here, go to Uni, and then head back to my dorm. Okay?”
Joker’s brows lifted, his grin tugging wider as he leaned in close, though Y/n couldn’t tell if it was warm or a warning. “When’d my Bunny grow claws, hmm? Acting all eh…tough now, careful, or you’ll convince me you don’t need me at all.”
Y/n’s cheeks flushed instantly, her earlier confidence faltering. She looked down, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. The corners of her mouth twitched, wanting to smile but too shy. “That’s…not what I meant,” she mumbled, unable to look him in the eye now.
Joker tilted his head, amused by the sudden change, eyes glittering as if he was savouring her flustered reaction.
“Not what you meant?” Joker echoed, drawing the words out. He leaned in closer, his nose almost brushing her cheek again, his voice dropping low. “Sounded a whole lot like my Bunny thinks she can boss me around now.”
Y/n tucked her head down between her shoulders, her fingers twisting tighter in her sleeve. Her heart was hammering so loud she swore he could hear it. “I’m not…bossing you. I’m just—just saying what I want.”
Joker let out a raspy chuckle, amused more than anything. His hand slid along her jaw, tilting her head up just enough so she couldn’t hide from his gaze. “Mhmm. And look at you. Acting like some uh…bigshot, but the second I look at you—” his grin widened, sharp and knowing, “—you get all shy on me again.”
Y/n’s lips parted, but no words came out. Her face burned under his stare, and she had to bite down on a nervous whimper threatening to give her away.
Joker studied her for another long moment, then suddenly backed off. The sharpness in his eyes dulled, his grin falling into something more easy. He clicked his tongue and leaned back, releasing her jaw as he stood up.
“Eh,” he muttered, waving a gloved hand. “Do whatever you want, Bunny. Go to class, stay at your dorm, play house with the little college kids…don’t matter to me.”
The words stung, but his tone wasn’t angry, just oddly flat, dismissive in a way that made Y/n’s chest tighten. She watched him pace toward the other side of the room, shoulders hunched, one hand raking through his faded-green hair.
He didn’t look back at her.
Y/n pushed herself up off the couch, her body still aching faintly from the last week but steady enough now. She moved quietly around the room, gathering her things into a small pile, her bag, her notebook, the sweater she’d left draped over the arm of a chair.
She kept her focus on her belongings, keeping herself busy so she wouldn’t notice the heavy weight of Joker’s eyes burning into her back. He hadn’t said another word, but she could feel him watching, could almost hear his grimace.
The silence stretched until the loud creak of the door broke it. Rocco shoved it open with his shoulder, lugging a massive paper bag that smelled of old oil and salt.
“Dinner delivery,” he announced. The heavy smell filled the safehouse, a welcome contrast to the tense air that hung between Y/n and J.
Y/n dropped her half-folded shirt and made her way toward the kitchen, Joker trailing lazily behind her. Rocco dumped the bag on the counter and started tearing it open, containers of noodles, rice, and fried chicken.
Y/n shot him a small smile and a ‘thank you’ as she reached for one of the containers, Joker’s gloved hand darting in at the same time to snatch it away, his laugh smug as he grabbed it before she could. She glared at him before grabbing the next container.
Eventually, the three of them drifted back into the lounge. Y/n sank onto the couch, Joker plopping down beside her with his legs sprawled wide, while Rocco claimed the creaky chair.
The television flickered on, casting its harsh glow. The news anchor’s voice filled the room. “It’s been a week since the infamous Joker escaped police custody. Authorities report no sightings, and surprisingly, no recent criminal activity linked to him has surfaced.”
Y/n froze with her food halfway to her mouth, her chest tightening as the footage played of flashing sirens and Joker being hauled in chains. The reminder of that night made her throat go dry. Beside her, Joker leaned back on the couch, without a care.
The anchor droned on, speculating about whether Joker was “lying low, planning something bigger, or already making his next move.” She felt the weight of Joker’s presence beside her, the way his smirk widened at the mention of him being “in hiding.”
“In other news, Gotham’s own Bruce Wayne has once again made headlines for his generosity, donating a significant amount toward Gotham University’s scholarship funds and several departments, continuing to warm hearts across the city.”
A clip of Bruce Wayne shaking hands with board members played, his perfect suit and bright smile practically glowing under the flash of cameras.
Joker let out a scoff. “Pfft. Wayne.” He grumbled. “Golden boy of Gotham, throwing money at the poor little students and their university.” His red smile couldn’t hide the scowl that plastered his face.
“Hey! I’m one of those poor little students.” Y/n frowned at Joker.
Joker’s eyes narrowed at the footage of Bruce. “He’s an even bigger Joker than me.”
Y/n rolled her eyes at Joker’s attitude, popping a fry into her mouth as she leaned back against the couch. It was odd, watching him get so riled up over Bruce Wayne of all people. He didn’t usually waste his energy on the rich and famous unless he was planning to blow something up.
Maybe it was because Wayne was always plastered across the news, grabbing Gotham’s attention. Joker hated when the spotlight shifted anywhere but him, and it showed.
Y/n grabbed the remote without another word, changing the channel over until the screen switched to some random 90s film. Joker’s head snapped toward her, eyes wide.
“Hey, I was watchin’ that,” he barked, pointing at the TV.
“You were getting agitated,” Y/n shot back, leaning back against the couch. “And I don’t wanna deal with an agitated Joker tonight.”
With a huff, he dropped back against the cushions, arms crossing over his chest like a sulking kid. He muttered something under his breath, the kind of grumbling that was half complaint, half threat, but not meant to be taken seriously. His eyes stayed on the screen, though every so often they slid sideways toward Y/n, debating whether to pack a shit about it or not.
The movie played, the plot lost on Joker. Rocco had slipped out some time ago, muttering something about being back in the morning, leaving just Y/n and Joker in the crappy apartment. Y/n’s head dipped to the side, her eyes fluttering closed. She shifted once, trying to fight it, but within minutes she was out cold, her breathing soft and steady.
Joker glanced over at her, the glow of the television painting her face in shifting colours. For a long moment, he just sat there, watching her. Then, with a grunt, he stood, moving closer. He slid his arms beneath her carefully, scooping her up against his chest. She stirred faintly, but didn’t wake, her head dropping against his shoulder.
He carried her to the bed in the corner. Lowering her onto the mattress, Joker pulled the blanket over her, tucking it around her sides as gently as someone like Joker could. For a second, he just stood over her, watching her chest rise and fall. The usual manic glint dulled, replaced by something softer, like she was the only thing in Gotham that could still hush the chaos in his head. He let out a low breath, before finally straightening and slipping back to the couch, leaving her to rest.
Grabbing the remote, Joker lowered the volume of TV. His gaze shifted quickly to Y/n on the bed before grabbing his latest piece of weaponry he’s been modifying and tinkering away.
-
It had been a long while since Y/n had woken to the sound of her alarm, and the old acquaintance was far from welcome. She groaned, dragging herself upright and pressing the phone screen to silence the annoyingly upbeat tune.
The room was quiet, eerily so, and the usual presence of Joker or his goons was nowhere in sight. With a relieved sigh, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and began the slow process of getting ready. The warm water during her morning wash felt almost indulgent, a brief comfort in the midst of her creeping unease, and breakfast was pleasantly mundane, something normal in her now unusual life. But as she started packing her bag, the weight of the day ahead hit her. She would be returning to university.
Ugh…university.
Her stomach twisted at the thought, and a strange twinge of guilt and anxiety settled in her chest. Maybe Joker had been right all along, she didn’t really want to go back. Questions ran through her mind like a storm, unrelenting and powerful. Did people notice her absence? Would they talk about it when she gets there? It had been so long since she last attended class that the very thought of stepping onto campus felt foreign, exposing.
A shiver ran up her spine, not from the morning chill but from that gnawing sense of discomfort that seemed to settle into her bones whenever the outside world reminded her of its expectations. She gripped her bag a little tighter, wishing she could just stay in the quiet safety of her room a little longer.
No, she needed to do this. She had earned her spot in the course through sheer effort, a scholarship funded most of her education, and she was paying for her dorm every month. She couldn’t let fear or hesitation win. She was going. Slipping her bag onto her back, she inhaled sharply, holding the breath, her chest puffed out proudly.
She was going back to uni, and she would be fine. She had to be.
A shaky exhale escaped her lips as she stepped out of the safe house, the cool morning air hitting her face. For a moment, the city felt vast, stretching in every direction, unfamiliar and imposing.
And then she stopped dead in her tracks.
How the fuck does she get to uni from here?
Y/n let out a tired sigh and pulled her phone from her pocket, fingers swiping across the screen as she checked the local railways and bus schedules. She mapped out her route, trying to piece together the most efficient way to get to uni without getting lost.
If she walked to the nearest bus stop, she could catch the 23 to the train station, then hop on a train into the CBD. From there, she could either grab another bus or walk the rest of the way. It wasn’t perfect, but it would get her there.
Determined, she pulled her bag higher on her shoulder and set off toward the bus stop. The air was brisk against her skin, her nerves buzzing with each step. Once she arrived, she decided not to sit on the bench, questioning its cleanliness, scanning the street for the familiar flash of the approaching bus.
It didn’t take long before the 23 appeared around the corner. Her chest lifted slightly, a rush of relief and anxiousness washing over her. She pushed herself forward, waving her hand as the bus slowed to a stop. The digital display on the front confirmed it, right bus, right direction. A small, triumphant smile curved her lips.
Climbing onto the bus, Y/n paid her fare and walked toward the back, finding an empty seat by the window. The bus shook beneath her feet as the bus pulled away from the curb, but almost immediately, that uneasy twist settled back in her stomach.
Was this even the right bus? Should she have just walked instead?
She exhaled slowly through her nose, trying not to look as anxious as she felt. Pulling out her phone, she opened her maps app, eyes darting between the screen and the passing streets outside. The route number matched—she was pretty sure it did—but what if it didn’t?
Her mind started spiraling with every turn the bus took.
What if this isn’t the 23? What if it’s the 23B or something weird like that?
She pressed closer to the window, reading every street sign she could catch, comparing it to the bus route on her phone. Everything looked right…but the doubt gnawed at her anyway, sitting heavy in her chest as the city blurred by.
That’s when she spotted the familiar train station signs past the window. Relief flooded through her. Finally, something was going right! Until the bus suddenly took a turn away from the station.
Her stomach dropped. Her eyes snapping to her phone in panic as she frantically zoomed in on the route map. Had she missed the stop? Was it going the wrong way? Was this truly the wrong bus?
Then the bus stopped. Y/n’s head shot up, heart still racing…only to realise the bus had simply looped around to stop on the opposite side of the road, right next to the station.
She let out a shaky breath, half a laugh at her own nerves.
Grabbing her bag, she rose from her seat and made her way to the door. “Thank you,” she said quietly to the driver as she stepped off, the door shut behind her and the bus driving off, leaving her standing there in front of the train station.
Y/n made her way down the worn concrete steps into the train station tunnel, the air cooler and a strong smell of probably piss. She followed the tiled corridor until it opened up to the platform. Pulling out her phone, she checked the timetable, ten minutes until the next train.
She moved to stand just past the timetable board, careful to stay out of the way of anyone who might want to read it or simply walk past. The platform wasn’t too busy, just a few people scattered along the benches. Her class wasn’t until later in the afternoon, a nice time to avoid the busy workday.
Fiddling absently with her phone, she scrolled through social media, until her screen lit up with ‘Unknown Caller’.
Her thumb hovered over the screen. It could be him. But it could also be some scammer or a wrong number. It wasn’t saved, so it wasn’t her business. She let it ring out, pretending she hadn’t noticed. The call ended, leaving her staring at her reflection in the black screen.
Then, not even five seconds later, it started again. ‘Unknown Caller’.
Her pulse jumped. Yeah, it was definitely him.
With a small sigh, she swiped to answer and lifted the phone to her ear, lowering her voice so she wouldn’t disturb the few people waiting nearby. “Hello?”
The familiar gravelly tone broke through the phone static. “Where are you, Bunny?” Joker.
Y/n sighed softly, already bracing herself. “Train station,” she said, voice low.
There was a pause on the other end, followed by Joker pulling the phone away, muttering something under his breath, then coming back on the line. “I thought I told you to stay put,” he drawled, clearly irritated.
“I have classes, J…” Y/n replied.
“If you were that desperate to go, I could’ve had someone drop you off,” he shot back.
She frowned. “No one was there.”
“You could’ve waited,” he spoke through his teeth.
“And be late? No thanks,” Y/n countered, tone flat but firm.
There was a low, guttural sound on the other end, Joker grumbling, clearly displeased but running out of arguments.
That’s when Y/n saw the train approaching, the screech of metal against rail echoing through the tunnel. She held at her phone and huffed. The last thing she wanted was to be that person, loudly chatting on a call while on public transport.
“Gotta go, train’s here,” she said quickly.
“Wha—” Joker’s voice cut off mid-word as she ended the call, sliding her phone into her pocket. He’d be pissed, sure, but that was a later problem.
The train slowed to a stop in front of her, and the heavy doors parted open. Y/n stepped forward and found an empty seat near the window. She adjusted her bag on her lap, glancing around the half-empty carriage. A few teens, a woman with a pram. Normal people, living their normal lives.
As the train started back up, she let out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. For the first time in weeks, she would be going back to uni, everything back to the way it was.
-
By the time Y/n’s train pulled into the CBD, the afternoon sun had already begun its descent. She stepped off onto the platform, slipping through the flow of commuters and students making their way out of the station.
Walking to the stop to take the bus from the CBD up to campus, she stopped short. The bus was packed. Students had already filled the seats and were now standing, holding onto rails. She blinked, took one look at the line of people still to get on, and shook her head.
“Yeah, nah,” she muttered under her breath, adjusting the strap of her bag.
Walking would take about ten minutes. Not ideal, but her class wasn’t for awhile anyway, as she liked to be early, and it was better than being in such a tight bus.
Her sneakers scuffed lightly against the pavement as she made her way toward the university. She noticed how the people walking the streets turned from businessmen in suits to students with full backpacks. Y/n’s chest tightened a little, it felt weird being back among it all after being at some apartment hideout for ages.
But as the glass buildings of the university came into view, a strange calm washed over her. This was normal. Ordinary. Mostly safe.
Y/n made her way up the familiar path toward the main courtyard, the centre of the university, where students usually lounged on the grass or at tables. But as she got closer, something was off.
The usual chatter was replaced by whispers, and the crowd seemed denser than usual. Then she saw them, two white vans parked along the courtyard edge, thick black cables trailing across the concrete, and people adjusting cameras.
Her brows furrowed. What the fuck is all this?
She slowed her pace, slipping through a group of gossiping students trying to film on their phones. Her answer came a moment later when a sleek black car rolled in through the courtyard entrance, the kind of car that didn’t belong anywhere near a university campus. The chatter instantly spiked as it pulled to a stop right in the centre.
The door opened and out stepped Bruce fucking Wayne.
Y/n froze, caught halfway between confusion and disbelief. He was dressed to perfection, of course. Dark suit, expensive watch flashing in the sunlight. The reporters swarmed instantly, microphones raised.
What the hell is he doing here? She thought, crossing her arms. Sure, he’d donated a fat stack of cash to the university, as it said on the news last night, but did he really have to show up in person, with all this drama?
Y/n rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. “Yeah, because a press conference is exactly what we need for higher education…”
She stayed back near the edge of the crowd, half-curious, half-annoyed, watching as Bruce Wayne flashed that golden-boy smile and started shaking hands with some professors who came out to greet him.
Y/n decided she’d seen more than enough of this billionaire and turned away from the crowd, slipping out of the courtyard toward her lecture hall. She checked the time on her phone, still thirty minutes before class started. Perfect. That gave her a little breathing room to just sit, relax, and catch up on what content she’d missed.
Finding a quiet spot in the corridor, she dropped her bag beside her and sank down to the floor, leaning her back against the wall. She pulled out her laptop and opened her notes, scrolling through the weeks she’d been gone.
There was a lot. Missed readings, half-read slides, and lecture recordings she hadn’t even started. Still, she tried to focus, fingers absently tapping against the keyboard as she read through the material.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, time sort of slipped away as the hallway slowly filled with chatter. When she finally looked up, more students had gathered outside the lecture hall, talking quietly, checking their phones, waiting for the doors to open. It couldn’t be long now.
Then, she noticed them. Polished black shoes stepping into view. Her eyes trailed up from the shoes to an expensive suit, and finally to the face that owned everything. Bruce Wayne.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
She blinked, watching him stride casually through the hall like he didn’t already have half the city watching him outside. What was he even doing here? Visiting campus was one thing, but what was he doing in this department?
And then, as if on cue, his gaze flicked toward her.
His eyes met hers, steady and direct, not arrogant, not cold, but searching. He even offered a polite smile, the kind that probably melted most people on sight.
But he didn’t look away.
Y/n’s stomach twisted. Why is he staring at me like that? she thought, forcing herself to glance back down at her laptop, pretending to type.
And when she dared to look up again, Bruce Wayne was walking straight past her, right into the lecture theatre, alongside her professor.
Y/n blinked, oh great…now he’s in my lecture theatre.
As the doors to the lecture hall opened, the low sound of whispers surrounded her. Students began filing in, likely chatting about Bruce Wayne’s unexpected appearance. Y/n gathered her things and slipped in among them, weaving through the rows of seats.
Her eyes darted toward her usual spot. Sliding into the seat, she set her things down, feeling that small comfort of her familiar space.
She pulled out her laptop, placing it on the desk, ignoring the buzz around her. When she looked up, though, her stomach did a slow, uneasy flip.
Again, the Bruce Wayne looking directly at her.
He stood at the front of the room beside the professor, the two of them speaking, but he eyes were on hers, over the professor's shoulder.
She looked away quickly, darting her eyes around like she hadn’t caught him—maybe he wasn’t even looking at her, maybe her brain made that up. Still, it didn’t settle her unease.
The noise around the room quieted as the professor made his way to the lecturer's desk and turned on the mic, tapping it to get everyone’s attention.
“Alright, everyone,” he began, voice vibrating through the speakers. “Let’s get started. Today we’ll be covering this week’s core topic–” He gestured toward the projected slide, going through the list of learning objectives. “But before we begin, I’d like to introduce our guest speaker.”
Y/n leaned back in her chair, arms crossed loosely, watching as the professor gestured toward the billionaire standing beside him.
Of course. Guest speaker. What the fuck could he possibly be speaking about?
Bruce Wayne stepped forward as the room clapped politely. He sent back his public-facing smile. He didn’t even need to introduce himself, but of course, he did.
“Good afternoon, everyone,” he began smoothly. “I’m Bruce Wayne, though, I don’t need much of an introduction.”
Y/n rolled her eyes at the comment. Sure, he was donating generously to many charities, the university even, but he was still an obnoxious billionaire.
He smiled faintly, nodding before continuing. “I’m here today to talk about some of the recent scholarship opportunities that the Wayne Foundation is sponsoring, particularly for this department. Gotham University has always been a place of—” His voice dragged on, and Y/n wasn’t listening.
He went on about funding departments, community programs, and other partnerships with the university.
“—And I’m proud to say,” he continued, clasping his hands together, “that several students already here at Gotham University are recipients of these scholarships. It’s a privilege to support their work and learning here.”
That’s when his gaze drifted, somewhat purposeful…searching? And for a second, it landed on her.
Y/n froze.
It wasn’t long, barely a moment, but it was did land on her. His eyes caught hers, and she felt her stomach twist.
No way. She must have imagined it. There was absolutely no reason he’d be looking at her.
Her scholarship was through a standard application process. She’d never met him, never spoken to him, not even an image attachment. He wouldn’t even know her name.
Still, her mind raced. Why did it feel like that glance lingered a little too long?
She blinked, tearing her eyes away, pretending to type something on her laptop. She must just be overthinking it, like always.
Because there was no way Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s golden boy billionaire, knew who she was.
Y/n kept her eyes glued to her laptop, desperate to look busy, to look normal, anything to stop thinking about Bruce Wayne’s lingering stare. She tapped at the keys, nonsense, random letters, anything to look occupied.
Then she caught sight of herself in the black screen. Her laptop wasn’t even on. The screen was black, a mirror reflecting her own stressed-out face while her fingers moved over the keyboard like an idiot.
Great. She must’ve looked stupid to anyone sitting behind her, fake typing on a laptop that was clearly not on. She exhaled sharply through her nose, ready to roll her eyes at herself, when something in the reflection made her freeze.
A figure.
A few rows behind her.
Someone she knew far too well now.
No…no way. It couldn’t be—
She snapped her gaze from the reflection and quickly glanced over her shoulder.
Her stomach dropped.
Rocco.
Broad-shouldered, battered appearance, sitting a few rows back like the world’s worst attempt at blending in. He wasn’t even pretending to be a student, he looked like a bodyguard shoved into a place he didn’t belong.
Rocco moved the moment she caught him, snapping his attention away from her in the most suspicious way possible, turning his head like he’d always been deeply invested in the poor bloke behind him.
Y/n shook her head, turning back around.
A short, disbelieving scoff left her before she could stop it.
Of course.
Joker was keeping tabs on her.
In her lecture.
Unbelievable.
Un-fucking-believable.
Y/n sat through the rest of the lecture, though not a single word from the professor actually made it into her brain. Her mind was locked on one thing, and one thing only.
Rocco. In her lecture.
She spent the next thirty minutes staring straight ahead, planning exactly how she was going to confront him without making a scene, or punching him in the throat.
Finally, the lecture wrapped up. Students immediately gathered their things, the folding chairs flipping back to slap the walls, and chatter filled the room.
Y/n snapped her laptop shut, slung her bag over her shoulder, and stood. She made her way to the end of her row, waiting politely as other students poured past her down the stairs. She nodded people on, gesturing with her hand, allowing them to carry on when they’d stop for her to enter the flow.
The second she spotted Rocco trying to blend in with the mass, head down, shoulders tucked, Y/n moved.
She stepped right into his path, cutting him off so abruptly, he just about ran into her.
She crossed her arms. Tilted her head just slightly. Rocco froze, he didn’t even look up, his eyes trained on the stairs. He tried to step around her.
She shifted again, blocking him.
“Uh…hey,” he muttered, grinding his teeth awkwardly, already sweating.
Y/n didn’t blink. She just stared.
“Didn’t know you enrolled uni,” Y/n said flatly. “First time student?”
Rocco let out a long, defeated sigh, shoulders sinking. No point pretending now, he’d already been caught.
Y/n stepped a little closer, voice low. “What the fuck are you doing here? Did J send you?”
Rocco finally straightened, crossing his arms like he was trying to reclaim some dignity. “What do you think?”
Y/n exhaled sharply. “How long have you been following me?”
“Well…‘follow’ ain’t exactly the word I’d use,” Rocco said, scratching his chin, thinking. “I lost you ‘bout…four times? Maybe five. You walk fast, little lady.”
“Then stop,” Y/n snapped.
“I can’t.” He lifted his hands defensively. “Boss’s orders.”
Y/n huffed out a tired laugh. “Well, get lost again. Leave. And tell him I don’t appreciate being babysat without my knowledge.”
“I can’t—”
She pointed toward the exit, jaw clenched. “Go.”
He frowned like a scolded dog, then grudgingly turned and trudged down the stairs, muttering something under his breath as he followed the tail end of the crowd.
Y/n let out a long, exhausted sigh once Rocco vanished, then finally turned to head down the stairs with the rest of the students. She just wanted to get outside, take a breath, maybe scream into the void.
She made it down two steps before—
“Y/n.”
Her name spoken by her professor.
She froze mid-step.
Her heart plummeted to the floor.
Was this because she hadn’t been paying attention? That couldn’t be it, he couldn’t even see her laptop from down there, and he never cared when half the lecture hall was on their phones. But maybe…maybe this was the one time he’d decided to care? Maybe she’d done something? Maybe—
What the fuck was going on?
Her heart was pounding as she slowly walked down the remaining steps. And then she saw it, why her stomach twisted even harder.
Bruce Wayne was still standing beside her professor.
Great. Amazing. Now she was going to make a fool of herself in front of the city’s hottest billionaire bachelor.
Yippee!
She forced her legs to carry her the rest of the way, trying very hard not to visibly implode as she approached the two men.
Y/n stopped in front of them, clutching her laptop to her chest like a shield. Her professor gave her a kind smile, hands folding behind his back.
“Y/n,” he repeated her name, “Mr. Wayne was asking about some of the scholarship students in this class, and you were the first to come to mind.”
For a second, Y/n was convinced she had misheard him.
Bruce Wayne.
Asking about…her? Well, not exactly her, but still.
Her brain short-circuited.
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open just slightly, a mildly startled look on her face.
She managed a stiff nod, because she definitely couldn’t trust her voice not to betray her. She could already feel the heat creeping up her neck and into her face, that awful, familiar warmth that showed up every time she had to talk professionally, or to new people.
“Miss L/n,” Bruce said politely, dipping his head in greeting, “it’s good to finally put a face to the name. Your academic record is…impressive.”
Face to the name? FINALLY? The fuck they been talking about?!
She swallowed hard, nodding again, still unable to speak. Her hands had gone clammy around her laptop. Her face probably looked like a tomato left out in the sun.
The professor chuckled lightly. “Y/n’s been one of our strongest performers.”
She kept her expression frozen, smile-less, word-less, statue-like. Not on purpose, she was just too afraid to make any sudden movements.
Bruce’s gaze stayed on her a moment too long, but she was too overwhelmed to read it. Too hot in the face. Too busy trying not to combust right there at their feet.
Bruce’s polite smile didn’t waver as he shifted his attention fully to her.
“So, Y/n, may I call you Y/n?” he asked.
She nodded quickly. “Yeah.”
“What minor courses are you taking?” he prompted.
“Stats,” she answered, voice barely above normal speaking volume.
“Stats,” he echoed, as if tasting the word. “And is that an interest or do you want to take that knowledge further?”
Y/n answered quickly, “I just need the points..”
Bruce waited for her to elaborate, but she just stared at him, wide-eyed, lips pressed together in a small, anxious line.
When it became painfully clear she wasn’t adding anything, he smoothly moved on without missing a beat.
“Well,” he said, hands slipping into his pockets, “your professors speak highly of your work. And your scholarship reports reflect it too, something that’s rare, especially in students balancing off-campus challenges.”
Her face heated again. She had no idea what “off-campus challenges” meant, but she prayed to every god that he didn’t literally mean the Joker.
Why the fuck would he mean that? He doesn’t know that.
“Yeah,” she murmured.
Bruce waited, again, for her to elaborate. Maybe a “thank you,” or “it’s been hard but I’m trying,” or literally anything. His expression was open, patient, encouraging even.
She stared back at him, mentally screaming.
After two long seconds, Bruce’s polite smile twitched, just slightly, like he was suppressing a chuckle at how thoroughly she was shutting down this conversation.
He moved on once again, effortlessly moving past the awkwardness.
“Are you planning on applying for any of the new research placements I mentioned?” he asked.
“Uh…maybe.”
It wasn’t even a real answer. Just a quick, easy answer to finish the conversation. She didn’t even remember what he said at the beginning of the lecture.
Bruce nodded like she’d given him a full, articulate paragraph.
“Well, if you do, I’m sure you’ll be a good candidate.”
She blinked back at him. “Okay.”
Again, silence.
Again, Bruce giving her a moment to say literally anything at all.
And again, nothing. Just Y/n standing there like a bug on a wall.
Finally, Bruce gave a soft, understanding exhale. Not annoyed. Not disappointed. Possibly…amused?
“Thank you for your time, Y/n,” he said warmly. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
She nodded, again and forced out, “You too,” hoping she didn’t sound like she was choking.
Bruce offered a final small smile before Y/n turned to make her way out of the lecture theatre, thinking too hard about how she looked walking away.
Was she walking too fast? Too slow? Should she have used the other exit?
It wasn’t till the door closed behind her that she let herself breathe.
Okay. It’s fine. You didn’t die. You just stared at Bruce Wayne like an idiot and answered every question like it was a hostage negotiation. Totally normal. Totally fine. You’re fine.
She ran a hand down her face.
God. Kill me.
And then she saw him. Again. Rocco.
Hands in his pockets. Whistling terribly. Pretending like he just happened to be there.
You’ve gotta be kidding me.
He perked up slightly when he saw her, like a dog that wasn’t supposed to be on the couch but definitely was.
Y/n closed her eyes. Breathed in. Breathed out.
Of course, he was still here. Of course, Joker had him stationed like some shitty security guard.
She opened her eyes and muttered under her breath. “…Fantastic.”
Rocco gave her a tiny wave.
She did not wave back. Just walked past. “Come on,” she said, tired.
He fell into step beside her immediately, because of course he did.
“You took a while to leave,” Rocco muttered, trying for casual.
Y/n didn’t even look at him. “Rocco, I swear to God, if you keep talking to me, I will actually throw myself off the building.”
He shut up real fast.
Y/n kept walking, rubbing her temple with the heel of her hand. Her pulse was still embarrassingly loud in her ears.
She felt Rocco glance sideways at her a few times, like he wanted to say something, explain himself, maybe, or joke, or offer sympathy, but the warning was still in the air, so he wisely stayed quiet.
When they reached the hub, she stopped and turned slightly toward him, arms crossed.
“Are you taking me somewhere,” she asked, “or are you just here to annoy me on company time?”
Rocco opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again.
“…Boss said I’m taking you back to the hideout when you’re done.”
She stared at him. He winced, bracing for her reaction. “Of course you fucking are.”
Y/n didn’t give him a chance to argue, not even a breath.
“Nope,” she said flatly, already turning toward the main path that led off campus. “I’m going home. To my dorm.”
Rocco blinked. “But! I’m supposed to—”
“Don’t care.” She lifted a hand dismissively without looking back. “I’m not being dragged back across the city after I already left there. I’m tired. I’m embarrassed. I’m going home.”
“Y/n—”
“You can tell him you lost me again,” she called over her shoulder.
He made a defeated noise, but she didn’t slow. She cut through the courtyard, past the film crews packing up, past students chatting on benches, her bag heavy on her back as she walked home.
By the time she reached the front gates of the university, she glanced back once.
Rocco stood exactly where she left him, hands on his hips, looking like a man about to get yelled at by two different people for two different reasons.
Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
Y/n turned away and kept walking, heading towards the university halls.
-
Y/n pushed open the door to her dorm room and stepped inside, letting it close behind her with a soft click.
The familiar tiny space, with her single bed, cramped desk, and minimal storage space, but it never looked so comforting.
She dropped her bag to the floor and let out a long, frustrated sigh, rubbing her hands over her face. She walked straight to her bed and flopped face-first onto it, muffling another groan into the sheets.
What a fucking day. Bruce Wayne in her lecture. Rocco following her.
Finally. Peace. Quiet. Alone—
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She froze.
She rolled over and pulled her phone out, staring at the caller ID. “Holy shit,” she muttered under her breath. “Didn’t even wait an hour.”
She answered, clearly unimpressed by whatever conversation she was being dragged into. “Hello?”
Joker’s voice came through immediately. “Open the window.”
Y/n blinked, heart jumping somewhere between dread and disbelief, she pushed herself off the bed and to the window. She grabbed her curtain, hesitating for one second.
“You gotta be kidding me…”
She pulled it open. And there he was.
Joker. Pressed up against the window. Full makeup. Purple coat. The painted grin stretched wide across his face, his makeup grinning but not him. But his actual expression was flat, downright annoyed at her.
“Hiya, Bunny.” He wiggled his fingers in a wave. “Miss me?”
Y/n let out a groan as she opened the window for him.
“Oh my god…are you kidding me, J? It’s barely been a few hours!”
Joker’s painted grin didn’t move, but his eyes narrowed in playful offence.
“Aww,” he tilted his head, “sounds like my Bunny doesn’t wanna see me no more.”
She rolled her eyes and turned away, heading back toward her bed with every intention of ignoring him. But she didn’t make it two steps. A gloved hand hooked around her waist and yanked her back, pulling her flush against him with an effortless tug.
“Oh no, no, no,” Joker murmured, lips brushing her ear. “You don’t get to just walk awa—”
“You had me followed?” The question sliced right through his cocky tone.
His grip paused, but never loosened. Y/n turned her head slightly, enough to see the shift in his expression. The faint flicker of irritation.
Her voice was quiet, but it hit like a shove. “You had Rocco in my lecture.”
Joker blinked once, slowly…then smirked.
“Thought he needed an education.”
She pushed herself out of his arms, stepping back with anger written all over her face.
“So what,” she huffed, “I can’t even go to lectures alone anymore? J, what do you honestly think is going to happen?”
Her voice wasn’t yelling, but frustration was wrapped around every word. He spread his hands, shrugging like she was the one being dramatic.
Joker just rolled his shoulders in a lazy shrug, turning away from her, his boots scraped softly against the carpet as he wandered around the room.
“I don’t know, Bunny…” he said, pacing in a loose circle around her. “Anything could happen.”
He flicked a look at her from the corner of his eye, grin widening.
“Someone might…hurt you.” He turned his head, antagonising her. “Or try to steal you uP. Y’know how this city is...”
He paused behind her, his breath brushing against her hair.
“Like your old friend, uhh…what’s his name…” A snap of his fingers. “Max?”
Y/n went still, and a shiver trailed up her spine. Max. His face, his terrified eyes, his body crumpling to the ground—
Joker’s laughter echoed off the walls. Her stomach twisted, the memory sharp enough to cut. Joker leaned forward just enough for her to feel his chest against her back, his now against her cheek.
“Mm. Yeah. Him.”
Y/n’s throat tightened. “J…”
Joker’s head tilted, looking at her face over her shoulder. He walked back into her line of sight, hands behind his back, rocking on his heels.
“Remember what happened with him?” he asked, almost cheerfully. “Hmm?”
But it wasn’t a question. Both of them knew what happened, and why.
Y/n’s heart kicked painfully in her chest. Max’s face flashed in her head. Joker leering over him. Her breath hitched.
“J…please,” her voice cracking despite her best effort to hold it together.
He just smiled at her. He knew he got her.
“I—” She swallowed hard, nerves on edge. “Okay…I get it, I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry.”
Joker’s features softened, his entire act dropping as she gave in.
“That’s my Bunny.” Joker hummed, satisfied with her answer, and reached out to ruffle her hair. Playful, almost affectionate. But Y/n stiffened instantly, shoulders going rigid.
He noticed. Of course he noticed.
“Relax,” he said, already turning away, “you look like a scared little kitten.”
Then he wandered over to her bed and flopped down with a dramatic sigh. The mattress dipped under his weight, springs creaking. He sprawled across it, arms out, legs apart, taking up all her space in seconds.
Y/n lingered there for a moment, unsure what to do with herself. She scratched at the back of her neck awkwardly, eyes flicking anywhere but at him.
“So…Rocco tell you much?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
Joker stretched, hands behind his head. “Told me a little something…about a uhh…billionaire.”
Y/n groaned and rolled her eyes. “Are you talking about Bruce Wayne?”
Joker snapped his fingers and pointed at her, grin widening. “Bingo.”
Y/n didn’t bother to stop her eyes from rolling. It’s what she found herself doing most of the time she spent with Joker. She could barely keep one stable emotion, constantly jumping from one to another.
“Please. He was asking about my scholarship or whatever. Some kind of opportunity.”
Joker mirrored her eyeroll with an exaggerated one of his own, head falling back dramatically as he groaned loudly through his open mouth.
“Ohhh sure, opportunities,” he muttered, tone dripping with jealousy he didn’t bother to hide.
She stared at him flatly. “You can’t possibly be jealous of a man talking to me about scholarship opportunities.”
Joker lifted his head, eyes narrowing just enough to show he absolutely, 100%, without question was. Y/n huffed and crossed her arms, giving him a look that was meant to be reassuring but came out mostly tired.
“J…you seriously have nothing to worry about. I have zero interest in Bruce Wayne. None.”
Joker’s expression eased, just slightly, before he leaned back on his hands, giving her that smug little look of his.
“Well, obviously.” Then, with his usual theatricality, he added, “It’s only natural you’d be attracted to a man who could make you laugh.”
Y/n blinked at him. “J, you freak me out most of the time.”
J snorted out a laugh, sharp and amused as he lifted a shoulder in an easy shrug. “Yeah, well uh…keeps things interesting, don’t it?”
J quickly pushed himself up from the bed, pulling at his coat lapels. Then, without even looking at her, he spoke.
“Pack it up, Bunny. You’re comin’ home with me.”
Y/n blinked. “No…no, I’m not. I live here. This is my dorm, J.”
He finally turned his head, eyes cutting toward her with that slow, predatory look, and that never meant anything good. “Didn’t ask where you live. I said you’re comin’ with me.”
Her throat tightened. “J…I have classes tomorrow. And tutorials. And people might actually notice if I disappear here.”
He stared at her, unblinking.
She tried again, a little weaker. “I’m staying. I’m…staying here tonight…and the rest of the week.”
The silence was thick and heavy. His jaw clenched once and she felt her palms start to sweat. Y/n hated when J got quiet like that.
Her heart thudded. “Please don’t get mad,” her voice was so small as she spoke.
J made a rough, grunting noise like he was restraining about ten different reactions at once. He dragged a hand down his face, pulling at his makeup.
“Bunny…” his voice low with warning. “You really like to make things uh…difficult.”
J sat up slowly, palms braced on the mattress. He stared right at her, his eyes burning through her, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek.
Then he huffed out a short, sharp breath.
“…Fine.”
Her eyes flicked up.
He had looked away from her now, wiping his dirtied hands on her sheets.
“If you uh…wanna stay here so bad,” he muttered, voice flat in that dangerous, unreadable tone, “then I simply won’t bother you.”
A beat.
“For…” he scrunched his face up in mock thought. “A while.”
Y/n’s heart dropped. “J…”
He lifted one shoulder in a dismissive shrug, still studying nothing in particular, her wall, her desk, anything except her face.
“That’s how it’s gonna be, Bunny. You don’t want me, hmm? Then I’ll give you what you want.”
His tone wasn’t loud. Wasn’t teasing. Just…cold in a way that made her stomach twist.
“No drop-ins. No calls. You can enjoy your uh…little student life.”
“J, that’s not what I meant,” she said quickly, stepping toward him.
“Sure it is.” He finally looked up.
She opened her mouth, panic rising, but he stood up in one smooth motion, already pulling his coat straight.
He turned toward the window like he was really about to go.
“Wait—” The word slipped out of her before she could stop it.
Joker paused mid-step, one hand already on the window frame. He didn’t turn around right away. For a second, she thought he wouldn’t at all, and that thought hurt far worse than his anger ever had.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeves. “That’s not…I didn’t say I didn’t want you here,” she said quietly. “I just…I need to do this. For me.”
Still nothing.
Her chest felt tight. “You—I’m not choosing uni over you. I’m just trying not to lose everything else.”
That did it.
He let out a breath through his nose and finally looked back at her. The sharpness was still there, but something else crept in beneath it. Irritation.
“Tch,” he clicked his tongue. “You’re real good at sayin’ the right thing too late, Bunny.”
He straightened immediately after, any trace of hesitation snapping shut like a door. He didn’t even argue. That almost made it worse.
“Do what you gotta do,” he said flatly, already turning away. “Go to class. Stay at your dorm. Be real responsible.” A humourless scoff followed as he reached the window. “Don’t worry about me, Bunny.”
Her heart was pounding. “J—”
“Nope.” He cut her off. “This is what you wanted, right? Space. Normal.” Only then did he glance over his shoulder, dark eyes glinting beneath smeared makeup. “So you got it.”
He climbed onto the sill, then paused just long enough to add, “Don’t wait up,” before disappearing into the night.
The breeze coming through the open window suddenly felt colder, leaving the room feeling much emptier than it had a moment ago.
The quiet hit her all at once.
Y/n stood there for a long moment, staring at the window like he might reappear any second now, like some cruel joke of his. The city hummed outside as nothing happened in her room. It all suddenly felt wrong. Too normal.
She sank down onto the edge of her bed, hands curling into the fabric of her sheets. This was what she’d asked for. Classes, quiet, a dorm room that didn’t smell like oil and gunpowder.
Y/n looked down at the greasepaint Joker had left on her sheets, running her hand over it.
I did the right thing…He won’t be gone for long…He won’t.
She tried to tell herself over and over.
Y/n curled in on herself, pulling her knees to her chest, staring out the window, still hoping to see his stupid smile pop back through, because no matter how many times she told herself she’d made the right choice, the ache in her chest didn’t ease.
If this was what doing the right thing felt like… she wasn’t sure she liked it at all.
-
comments and reblogs are appreciated
A/N: a lot of stuff and nothing at all is happening at the same damn time!! lol anyways, i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and look forward to what is to come again, sorry for taking so long thank you so much 💚
