Quarentene with Ledger Joker, please
This is a request but I’m personalising it for @jokershyena because I love her and I want to give back some of what she does for me. So: female pronouns, some sensuality, the name ‘Lilith’ and other personal details used with permission.
Ledger!!Joker @nothing-but-a-comedy @justahyena @anyatheladyclown @mijachula @joker-daddy @rinbyo @imightaswellnotexistatall @vladtoly @joker-is-my-hero @liz-rdwitch @enigmaticandunstable @ledgerskitten @tsukiakarinobara @germansarechill @ezziesworld
With the fatality and infection rates of a new virus sky high and the number of confirmed cases within Gotham growing even higher by the day were you on the edge of a panic attack just from watching the news for only five minutes. You dreaded to think of the actual statistics, for only confirmed cases could be recorded within the news.
There were over a thousand cases in central Gotham alone and for that reason had the entire city been placed under quarantine for an indeterminable amount of time. You and J lived together (or rather, the apartment was leased under your name and J came and went as and when he felt like it) which meant that, for the duration of the lock-down were you forced to be together.
I found the silver lining to all of this was your thought as you clicked the television off, leaning back against the sofa so that you could stare up at the ceiling. Absentmindedly did you begin to count the cracks, squinting in concentration. You shook your head every time you lost count and began again, always from the same corner. You always lost count at the same crack, too, and the definition of insanity crept into your mind.
It, too, found itself discarded with a firm shake of your head.
“You look as,” J plopped himself down on the sofa beside you, chucking his legs up on the coffee table, crossing his arms over his chest, “Bor-ed as I feel.”
You hummed and leaned sideways, crashing dramatically into J’s chest. “Hold me. Protect me from the virus.” Your words were dramatic, but an edge of fear crept into your voice and J picked up on it immediately. He huffed laughter against the crown of your head as he accepted your less than subtle question for a hug, his arms loosely encircling you. Dissatisfied were you, for you clambered into his lap and seated yourself upon his muscular thighs, your arms looping around his neck as you nuzzled into the warm crook of his neck. Oh, but he was a heater.
“The virus ain’t gonna get’cha, doll,” Joker squeezed his arms around you in comfort as he said, “Not so long as ya’ wash ya’ hands and keep away from peo-ple.” J cackled, his breath hot against the top of your head, the small hairs moving with his exhalations and making you shiver.
You smirked against the skin of his neck, pursing your lips to press a chaste kiss there. “Does that mean I gotta stay away from you?” You made as if to move and J didn’t like that one bit.
“No,” J growled, pulling you even closer to him so that your knees were brought up toward your chest, your kneecaps resting against the back of the sofa, “I am not people.” He spoke the word with real venom, as if he was insulted by the idea that he was a mere person; a plain nobody who could be found on any corner of Gotham’s filthy streets.
“True,” You grinned, raising your head from his neck to press a kiss to the very corner of his mouth, your lips so light and gentle out of fear of irritating his scar that J barely felt it. He groaned in irritation and tilted his mouth towards yours, desperately for more than a ghostly kiss, and you giggled as you gave him what he wanted. He pouted, for you had still only pecked his full lips with your own.
“Jeez, what’s a guy gotta do to get kissed ‘round here, huh?” J grumbled, the corner you had kissed seconds ago was now quirking upwards in amusement.
“You’re such a drama queen!” His jaw dropped just slightly in indignation but you sobered him up with your next words, the words you had been intending on speaking all along. Only he could so thoroughly distract you, even when he was the topic at hand. “You’re not a person, no - you’re more than that.”
A quizzical look as J wondered if finally you had cracked. He still had yet to figure out if he was a good or a bad influence on you. You were becoming more like him every day and again did he puzzle over whether it was a good or a bad thing. Still, who cared? He didn’t.
You trailed a hand across the back of his neck, your cool fingers raised goosebumps upon the hot flesh and J shivered as you trailed your hand around to his clavicle, down, down his chest, to rest over his heart. You pressed your hand down hard and met his intense chocolate eyes with your own as you said, “You’re a human, J, just like me.”
J’s eyes slammed shut and he squeezed them tightly. His sinful tongue, which made dampness begin to pool and collect in your undies already, darted out to lick the corner of his full lips, and his jaw muscles clenched. You had struck a nerve within your chaotic clown, a place which he always denied being there but in moments like this was it more than obvious.
J was just a man, but he wasn’t like any other. He was wild and untamed, unpredictable at the best of times, raw and passionate, chaotic and loud and so dangerous that people were right to be scared of him, if only because he was something new and undefined; people had always and would always fear that which they did not know or understand, though the citizens of Gotham didn’t want to understand J in all of his multi-faceted complexities. His anger and lack of sanity (though you thought him to be the most sane of all) was only the facade for the decades of hurt and pain; from his time in the military, to the true origin story of how he acquired those macabre scars, to the loss of his wife upon coming home, to dealing with PTSD while re-adjusting to civilian life and who knew what else alone… He had always been alone through all of it and the result was the man upon which you were sat.
When J opened his eyes some time later, which was marked only by the rising and falling of your chests; as you inhaled did he exhale, his eyes were ablaze with fire. His hand crept up to grip the one which rested over his chest, and he slid his fingers into the spaces between your own.
“My hyena. Mine.” J’s arms tightened around you as he pulled you in to a tight one armed embrace, burying his nose into your neck as he sunk into you while you cackled like a hyena; you had always been quite good at impersonating them and it was one of the things J loved about you. As you inhaled deeply to begin another cackling refrain did J lift his head from your neck, his hand joined with your dropping from his chest so that they came to rest between your bodies; laughing along with you. Your shared laughter - loud, chaotic and my, how you both thrived in these conditions - rang loudly off the walls of your high maintenance, expensive apartment and created a melody worthy of only its creators.
“Yes, J - I’m yours. I’m all yours. And you’re mine. I love you. I love you so much.” You were breathless from laughing, from love, from life as all thoughts of debts and bills and viruses slipped out of your mind, chased away by the overwhelming love which you felt for your Joker, your clown.
“I’m yours, Lilith,” Only yours, always and forever. “The hyena and her clown.” J’s dramatic flair displayed itself once more in the way his intense chocolate gaze penetrated yours, his smirk growing steadily by the second. Oh, how he loved you in his all own ways.They were small and obscure and you had had to learn to look for them, but there they were, waiting to be found and savoured as only a girl like you could.
The word sent a warm fuzzy feeling to the base of your spine and you shifted forward on J’s lap. He growled. “Don’t start something ya’ can’t finish, dollface.”
“Who says I can’t finish? Ladies first.” You smirked and leaned in to kiss J, his lips hot and heavy against your own, his tongue demanding and his hands were splayed open wide, exploring fingers touching as much of you as he could in the same moment, so hungry and longing for you was he. He was a clingy man, was J, when he was comfortable. He only ever felt so free, so liberated with you.
“Mm,” J purred against your lips as his hips bucked, sending his erection straight into your core. You were so wet that he could feel you even through your jeans and it only made him more thirsty for you. “Let’s - ah - put that to the test.”
Yes, there was a killer virus outside of these four walls which you were forbidden from leaving until further notice. Yes, you had a hell of a job on your hands keeping J inside the apartment until that notice had been given and yes, you were scared and stressed and tired, but you had something that no one else in Gotham had.
Being together felt so simple, so right, almost as if… Almost as if you were meant to be. In short, you had your Joker, and he had you, and together was there no storm that you couldn’t weather.
stormborns
germansingergirl
