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This was not how you were expecting your evening to go.
The man grabbing your chin in his hand and looking at you with dark curiosity wasn't a total stranger - you'd seen him once before, in the little cafe you worked at. Looking at something it seemed only he could see across the table; cracking jokes and smiling shyly, gradually becoming more comfortable. With what, you didn't know.
The eyes were what tipped you off. Large, sort of a seaglass green smattered with dark gray and maybe even a little bit of blue, rimmed with long, dark eyelashes that you'd honestly kill for. You'd seen them when he walked up to the cash register to pay at the cafe. They seemed wary and distant; not all there - which was probably the case, seeing as the guy had spent the last hour chatting with some invisible person and causing the people at the tables around him to cast wary glances his way and shift uncomfortably.
You wouldn't have known it was the same man if not for the eyes. He walked and moved like an entirely different person. He'd waded through the angry, frothing crowd with his chin up and eyes forward. He held his shoulders straight, and he had a spring in his step. His suit and parts of his makeup were a bright, eye-catching red. He looked confident and sure of himself and if you were being honest, it looked really fucking hot on him.
And when you see something you like, you stare.
That's how you got yourself into this mess - pinned up against the brick wall of an alley deep in Gotham, the smell of cigarette smoke burning your lungs and your thighs clenching helplessly together as who you now knew as Joker stroked his rough thumb along your cheek, grinning - all because your taste in men is fucking horrible and you couldn't help but stare. You hadn't even realized you were doing it before you felt a hand snatch you around your wrist and drag you into a nearby alley.
Joker looked at you for a second longer, his gaze flicking all over your face, from your parted lips to your wide eyes and tinged-pink cheeks before saying "you're quite a pretty little thing, sweetheart," with an amused grin.
And, shit. You really could not afford to keep getting turned on by men who could probably kill you within five seconds.
You weren't stupid; you'd seen his likeness on the news. You could very clearly see the gun, hooked on his pants pocket, the handle just barely visible. It shouldn't have made you shiver with anything other than fear, but it did.
Through your arousal, you tried to hold onto some semblance of logic - you did not want to get involved with him. He was dangerous. You should leave now.
For whatever reason, your brain didn't cooperate.
"Th-thank you," you stammered, eyes trained on the cigarette held lightly in his teeth. He grinned a little wider, big and open. You spotted one tooth that was crooked. "You're shy though. You don't need to be. We could've been having so much fun by now if you hadn't waited for me to notice you were staring. Not very subtle, by the way." He smirked and you bit your lip.
"No, I didn't want to - oh..." You trailed off, not knowing what to say as his lips met the underside of your neck, hot and textured from his face paint. It wasn't even a turn off. If anything, the fact that you were most likely gonna get fucked by a guy in makeup was... somehow exciting.
Shit, no. This was wrong. This guy was a murderer.
You strained a little against him. He didn't back off... Not that you were exactly expecting him to, anyway.
When he blew smoke out on the spot he'd been nibbling at, you let out a little noise at the warm sensation. Your hands crept up into his dyed green hair. You felt curls, and gripped onto them lightly. Whether to pull yourself closer to him or rip his body away from you and run away, you didn't know.
Joker moved farther down your neck, nipping a little at your collarbone and eliciting a yelp, much to his delight, as he let out a quiet giggle. He suddenly tore your button down open, the first few buttons at the top clattering onto the cobblestone ground. Your chest was hit with slightly chilly air, but before you could protest, he was on you again.
Long, slender fingers rolled your sleeves down your arms and peeled the rest of the shirt off your body. He tossed it haphazardly behind him, pushing you further up against the brick wall. Your spine dug into it a little, sending little sparks of pain up your back and making you ache even more. Joker started working his knee in between your thighs. You let out an embarrassing little mewl as his thigh brushed against your clothed pussy. You felt the gun briefly, and in a split second of fight-or-flight adrenaline, you jerked against him suddenly, pushing him back weakly.
"Aw c'mon, sweetheart. Don't be like that," Joker growled lowly, fixing you with a look that made your knees shake. The corners of his lips were turned up.
He grabbed your chin once again and his gaze bored deep into yours. You tried to turn away, but he forced you to look at him with a snarl.
"You're in too deep now."
Perhaps the strangest part of it is that he didn't say it in a menacing way - it was almost a giggle.
He pulled the revolver out and moved his other hand down to your throat, pinning you against the brick wall. He pressed the barrel onto your forehead, right between your wide eyes.
That was it. You were gonna die, all because you couldn't keep your eyes off him. Shit.
I'm fucking stupid. I'm dead.
You didn't dare breath.
Joker held you there for a moment, shirtless and shaking, before mercifully trailing the gun down to your chest and under your bra strap. The cold metal made you flinch and let out a little squeak. In one quick, fluid motion, he yanked it back and snapped your bra off. "Fuck!" You hissed quietly as one of the straps whiplashed against your skin. It stung.
"Language, sweets."
And with that, he shoved the gun into your mouth, right up to the revolving cylinder. You grabbed his wrist out of reflex, the taste of metal and gunpowder making your eyes water.
"Show me how you do it."
You hesitantly met Joker's gaze again. It was uncompromising, but curious and amused. He was having fun with this. It felt very randomized - like he wasn't used to doing this but didn't give a shit anyway. He seemed to be improvising, experimenting.
He was right - you were in too deep to back out now.
You let your tongue trail around the barrel, gingerly at first, Joker watching carefully as he started to ease his thigh between your legs again and squeeze your throat slightly. You gradually started lapping and and sucking at the gun's barrel with more rigor, watching Joker's eyes carefully as the barrel got wet with saliva. The metallic taste was strangely only making you wetter, along with the puff of smoke he blew into your face. The thigh slowly grinding against your crotch wasn't helping.
Joker pressed the revolver briefly farther into your mouth and held it there for a moment, making you choke a little around the metal before withdrawing it and harshly tapping both of your cheeks with it, twice, as you coughed.
"Oh, there we go. Knew I could get some whore out of you." He giggled and put the revolver in his pocket.
Fuck.
You whimpered incoherently before Joker squeezed your throat again, took his cig out of his mouth between two fingers, and pressed his lips into yours.
And holy shit, you did NOT expect the feel and taste of grease paint on your lips to be such a fucking turn on.
You could feel it smudging against your skin and a little in your mouth as he aggressively kissed you. It was messy - he was no expert, but he wasn't shy about it. There was no bravado or showiness. He tasted like cigarettes, something weirdly spicy and autumn-ish you couldn't quite place, and of course paint. It was an intoxicating mixture that had your thighs clenching around his. You could feel how hard his cock was against your hipbone, and a warm shiver made its way up your spine. Yeah, you were gonna regret this. But damn if you didn't think it'd be worth it.
You broke away to breath, just long enough to pant "please, please. Please."
He looked at you for half a second, his gaze half-lidded and burning into you, before he took one final drag of his cigarette.
It was like a switch flipped.
Your skirt was ripped down and you felt a searing-hot pain bore into your chest as Joker pressed his cigarette into the supple flesh. You let out a cry of pain that quickly turned into a moan as he pinched the spot on your breast between two fingers and blew his smoke into your mouth, kissing you roughly.
"Shut it."
You were sure your face was a mess by now. The little makeup you had worn to work earlier that day had probably smudged and faded, not to mention the white, blue, and red grease paint undoubtedly smeared haphazardly across your face, chest, and neck. You reckoned you looked like a regular masterpiece painted up like that. You grinned into the kiss, breathily moaning as his hand slipped into his pocket, got out the gun again, and rubbed the barrel (still slick from your lips) over your panties. He then gave them the same treatment as your bra, and resumed toying with your pussy with the barrel. You spread your thighs out, knees threatening to give out.
Eh, it was fine. You didn't like that pair of panties anyway.
You were fully naked, and by this time, Joker had shrugged off his suit jacket and had it slung over his shoulder. The thumb from the hand around your neck hooked into your cheek and dragged your mouth out into a crooked smile. "You have a nice smile," he said, looking deep into your eyes with his own wide ones, and you weren't entirely sure what to make of it.
You had no time to ponder though - Joker looked away just as quickly as he'd bored his gaze into you. He moved the gun away from your clit, much to your dismay. You sighed and tugged at his hair as he pointed the gun away from you both.
He silenced you by pressing his lips into yours once again and, without so much as flinching or diverting his attention from you at all, he fired the gun into the ground a couple meters away.
Shit, it really was loaded.
You convulsed, startled, as the sound reverberated in the alley, and Joker took the opportunity to nibble at your lower lip. Your mouth was again filled with the taste of tobacco and paint and metal. Your body had frozen up for a moment following the gunshot, and he yanked your hand back up to his hair. Whether the metallic taste was from the gun or from your own blood, you couldn't tell. He let out a low groan as your fist once again tugged on his hair. "So good," He muttered, almost to himself. He let an odd chuckle against your lips and resumed the action between your legs with the gun, but this time the metal was hot.
You let out a groan as you felt pleasure shoot up your spine from your pussy at the new sensation. You could feel him grinding against you. "Please! Fuck me, please!" You felt as if you were going to explode from the tension he was slowly piling on. How was this the same man from the cafe?
His lips stilled against yours, as did the gun between your thighs. He chuckled against you. "You're really asking for it," he said in a low voice with a little lilt, and you bit your lip.
Before you could respond, you heard a small zip, a rustle, and a groan as he freed his cock. You weren't the type to typically like sucking dick, but if he'd asked you, you would've been on your knees in a heartbeat.
Without taking his searing gaze off you, he rubbed his tip against your soaked pussy, before murmuring "jump." Your brain stuttered for a moment, lost, before he tapped your ass, and it clicked. You hopped up and he caught your thighs around his arms, holding you up against the brick wall. It scraped your back, making you whimper. You needed to be filled now.
Luckily, Joker didn't waste much time.
With a little bit of stretching and shifting, he guided himself in. He groaned at the sight.
"Fuck," he hissed, fingers digging into your thighs.
"Watch your mouth," you breathed with a shit-eating little grin. You knew exactly what you were doing and what you were asking for.
Joker's grey-green gaze shot up to yours, like he didn't expect backtalk. "Oh, doll," he sighed, a hint of a snarl in it. "You're in for it now."
He entered you harshly, making you cry out suddenly as he stretched you out, not giving you time to adjust to his size. "Ah, shit!" You hissed as he filled you up and fucked into you.
"Don't. Tell. Me. What. To. Do," he growled, pounding up into you between each word for emphasis. His fingers would surely leave marks on your thighs and you knew you'd be sore for a few days after. But God, you loved it.
He picked up the pace, brutally fucking into you and growling animalistically into your neck as his teeth grazed your collarbone. You could feel the smile on his face, and your eyes shut tight as the spring coiled in your body threatened to release.
"Sh-shit! Shit, I'm-" you cried out, tears pricking in your tightly shut eyes. It was all too much. "Do it," Joker snarled, and you felt a bit of flesh tear on your shoulder as he bit it. He growled as you groaned and whimpered before your mouth silently dropped open, almost unable to make any noise as your orgasm hit you like a truck.
Your legs shook around his waist, knees jerking, as your hands gripped his hair so tight you thought you might rip it out. You let out a strangled noise of ecstasy, and that was enough for Joker to lose himself in you.
He came hard, thrusting deeply and rhythmically inside you, making you ache as you clenched around him. He let out a groan, brow furrowed and eyes clenched tight in pleasure as he emptied himself in your pussy. You both were panting, sweaty messes as you came down from your highs.
Your heavy eyelids fluttered open, and for a moment, you saw Joker's eyes hold a little bit of softness and uncertainty, like the man from the cafe had taken over for a moment. He glanced down briefly, almost as if he was suddenly shy, before harshly coughing out a chuckle, ducking his head and hunching his shoulders like it took him by surprise. He blinked a couple times and met your gaze again.
"Here." He slid his arms out from under your thighs, setting you back on firm ground. Your legs wobbled, and you had to grip his wrist for balance.
"Whoa," you said listlessly. "Jesus Christ." Your head spun and you smiled hazily.
Joker grinned, and it was strangely bright and open. "You're fun." He played with a strand of your hair that had fallen in your sweaty, makeup-smeared face.
You giggled lightly, taking a deep breath.
"You're not so bad yourself."
Maybe there was more to Joker than what the news said. He was interesting - your curiosity was piqued...
...and you were never really scared of clowns, anyway.