damaged by your touch | [ joker x reader ]

INIMICAL

Started writing 08/18/2016. Non-gender specific reader.

The sun slunk just below the horizon, a soft pink hue drifting over the city of Gotham as the steady hum of traffic and pedestrians resonated in your ears. The cold metal of the bus stop bench was like ice seeping through your jeans, the air starting to chill as the sky darkened. The dim light of your cellphone through the darkness was the only light, save for the flickering street lights. Your bus was supposed to arrive soon, and you were thankful, because the musty smell of oil, piss, and rain water was starting to make you feel a bit nauseous. Finally the headlights of the public bus appear, and the hiss of the vehicle stopping reminds you to get off the bench and get on. You were exhausted, and frankly not prepared to deal with anyone's shit right now; so once you got on the bus, you headed as far away from anyone else as possible.

Taking a seat close to the window and only three rows back from the driver, it was a relatively quiet location, and seeing as it was almost nine pm, the bus was relatively quiet as well. Your apartment was only about 4 stops away, so it would be a quick bus ride. You glanced down at your lap, but noticed a newspaper lying on the floor of the bus. You raised an eyebrow and picked it up, glancing at the headline.

THE JOKER: GONE FOREVER?

You smiled. Who the heck was scared of a guy like him? He was a thug, he shot people, but it's not like he's everywhere all the time. The odds of running into him in this big city were close to none, except for if you worked in a bank or jewelry parlor. Plus, the guy fetishizes clowns, or whatever. What kind of wackjob kid was this guy? He was probably the kid who ate crayons in elementary school and upgraded to sniffing markers in junior high. From what the article says, he's gone without a sighting for weeks now. I guess that means good news for Batman, who you've never actually seen either, besides from the photos.

"Whatcha readin'?"

You jumped slightly, looking behind yourself at the man who you could've sworn wasn't there a moment ago. You lifted up the newspaper and smiled weakly.

"Just the news. Nothing too exciting." You spoke up, doing a quick once-over on the man. The first thing that stuck out to you was his hair: it was bright green. The next thing was the fact that he had so many tattoos, some even on his face. Not a great move regarding business opportunities, but depends on his business, I guess. The third thing... Was his eyes.

His eyes were dull, like blank slates. If you looked too long, you could feel the psycho start to seep into your pores. His grin was even more unsettling, seeing as it was paired with that crazed, yet blank, look.

He tsked, pulling you out of your assessment. He slunk into the seat next to you, his arm around the back of your seat. You took this small time to glance and see he was wearing a maroon button-up and black dress pants, paired with three gold chains that hung around his neck like trophies.

He leant down close with a big grin, revealing the grill you hadn't noticed before. You suddenly felt exposed, and you slid further away from him and pressed yourself against the window.

"Could I have some room, please? I just- I'm not a huge fan of people getting this close to me." You murmured weakly, gripping your bag for dear life.

He suddenly reached his hand out and ran it through your hair, tilting your head towards him as the aroma of cologne and blood mingled in the air. He hovered his lips over your ear, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he whispered,"Go to sleep, my sweet... You have a big day tomorrow..."

You furrowed your brows and stared at the man before a pinch on your throat was felt.

"Hey-!"

Your eyelids felt heavy, and the next thing you knew, the familiar plastic of the seat and the cold bus window faded into the darkness. The last thing you saw was the smirk on that man's face, his eyes boring holes into the center of your skull.

. . .

A gentle breeze tingled against your bare skin, the soft jingling of wind chimes sounding as you stirred awake, groaning and moving to stretch.

A sharp snap forced your wrist to stay down, your eyes flying open and your breath was knocked out of you. Darkness enveloped your eyes, your pupils dilating to accommodate to the dim lighting of the room. You were strapped to a metal operating table, the supple leather slicing into the weak flesh of your wrists, ankles, rib cage, and head. The breeze you felt was from the whir of broken fans among the damp warehouse, the jingling of wind chimes was the sound of chains clinking against each other. Your breath heightened, your eyes darting around as you struggled to escape from the leather, whining as the bonds dug further into your skin.

The steady beat of boots on concrete sounded as you wrestled to break free, your breath erratic as your heart pounded.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" You shrieked, and the boots stopped. You ceased to struggle in your bonds, your breath ragged and your heart pounding.

Silence.

The silence encapsulated you, the steady clinking of metal on metal resonating in your ears. Your eyes darted back and forth through the darkness, your heavy breathing loud in the silence.

You whimpered as cold fingers slid down from the top of your head to your neck, the jagged edges of the rings on the fingers sunk into your skin, nails gently scraping along your shoulders and collarbones. A voice cut through the silence, a mere breath's away from your face.

"You're so sexy when you're all... Hot and bothered..." Teeth tugged on your earlobe and you held back tears, whimpering quietly.

"Please... Please stop..." You rasped out, sniffling and squeezing your eyes shut.

You could hear his grin spreading.

You jolted as a hand gripped your face tightly, your eyes snapping open in fear. The man's crazed eyes bite into yours as he drawled with a smile,"You don't get to tell me when to stop. I tell you. You are MINE until that Bat Bitch pays his dues!"

The man smacked his red lips and grinned, revealing the horrifying grill-laden smile of his as he walked around the table. He was shirtless, flaunting tattoos that made your mind scream for you to run. The gold chains hung over his toned chest, purple gloves adorned on the hands that a minute ago were gripping your face so tightly it felt sore.

The man leant over the table and held your face gently with his hands, smirking,"You're going to be daddy's little plaything from now on, hm?"

You shook your head as much as you could within the restraints, whimpering and jostling around. "I don't even know you! Let me go!"

The man froze and his eyes went wide. A grin slowly spread over his face.

"Haven't you heard, darling? I'm the Joker."