his queen
- joker!rafe cameron x villain fem!reader
a/n: inspired by the joker and harley in suicide squad but a little less toxic (lowkey obsessed with it)
the dim light of the club bathed the room in a murky haze of reds and blues, the air electric with pounding bass and the clink of glasses. but none of that mattered to him. not the noise, not the bodies moving around the room, not even the wad of cash burning a hole in his pocket.
the joker’s bright blue eyes were locked on her.
she moved in the center of the floor like she owned it, and maybe she did. every sway of her hips, every arch of her back was deliberate, intoxicating. the way she laughed, sharp and wild, sent a jolt straight through his chest. his queen. his chaos.
sitting in his booth, a drink untouched in his strong hand, he leaned back, draping one arm over the edge of the velvet seat. his signature smirk curled across his face, beautiful yet dangerous, but his gaze softened in a way it only ever did for her.
she twirled, hair whipping around her face, and when her eyes caught his for just a second, he felt it like a punch. he gripped the edge of his glass, the tension in his chest mounting. how did she do that to him? bring him to his knees with just one look?
“boss, you good?” one of his henchmen muttered from nearby, his voice tentative.
rafe didn’t even bother looking at him. his focus was all hers. “good?” he echoed, his voice low and dripping with that dangerous charm. “oh, i’m more than good, barry. that—” he gestured lazily toward her, his rings catching the dim light. “that right there is a masterpiece.”
she laughed at something or someone too close to her, and his smirk twitched. one thing about him was that he didn’t share well, and she knew it. he could see the game she was playing, feel the tug of her invisible strings pulling him in. it wasn’t fair, but he loved it.
toxic? sure. obsessive? definitely. but he didn’t care.
when she finally found her way back to him, her breathless smile daring him to say something, she slid onto his lap as if she belonged there. cause she did.
“enjoying the show, rafey?” she teased, her voice dripping with mischief, knowing she’s the only person he’d ever let call him that.
his tatted hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer, his grin sharp as ever. “you know i can’t look away, doll. you’re the fire, the spark and i’m just the poor fool who keeps getting burned.”
she laughed, throwing her head back, and he watched her like a man possessed. feeling a sense of pride as he watched her necklace with his initial glittering in the light. “is that what i am to you?” she asked, brushing a hand along his sharp jawline.
“you,” he murmured, his voice a low growl now, “are everything. and you’re mine. don’t you ever forget it.
and she wouldn’t, because even as twisted as they were, the joker’s love for her was the one thing that was undeniably real.