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Chapter Text

The crisp chill of the night air was extremely unpleasant against your skin, icy cold biting into your goosebumped covered flesh just barely concealed under your raunchy attire. Dressed in a low cut tight fitting black lace dress that displayed your cleavage and staunchly hugged your curvy figure in the most appealing way. Complete with tall clear platform heels that you'd spent nearly three hours practicing walking in before you came. It wouldn't be a good look to faceplant in public in the new heels you just purchased a few days prior. If you were honest, you'd picked them because they made you feel like the baddest bitch on the planet with each step you took. Moreover, it wasn't that often you were invited out to party and got to dress up nicely with a face full of makeup.

Honestly, you wish you were a girl that always looked good in selfies or just naturally pretty enough to keep constantly updating your social networking pictures. Unfortunately, you happened to be one of those girls that gets spruced up once every four months and every other day you looked like you haven't slept for ten nights.

You and your friends - Candice and Diamond had been standing in line to get into one of Gotham City's most famous nightclubs for about ten minutes and they were nearly at the guarded entrance. Luckily they'd arrived at an earlier time, according to Diamond the line would usually stretch around the corner and most people wouldn't be able to get in after a certain time. While two were still overly excited and enthusiastic about a night on the town, you were more or less neutral about the venture, especially since it was so chilly out.

The three of you were celebrating your long awaited visit to the city after not seeing each other for years after they'd moved away from New York to New Jersey. Although Candice and Diamond were actually blood cousins, even though you all considered each other childhood friends, with you being their honorary cousin by default. When people asked you usually told them that you all three of you were related.

The general chatter from the line and faint thumping from the music on the inside was keeping you distracted for a few moments as you waited impatiently for the bouncer to allow more people in, shifting on your feet.

Another breeze caused a shiver to make its way through your body, making you wrapping your arms even tighter around your frame, forcing your attention out of your thoughts. As a New York native, you should be well adjusted to cold fall temperatures such as this only you really just prefer warmer temperatures and just plain hate the cold. Having caught one too many common cold's by being both underdressed and overdressed. By this point, you were pretty much over it.

Once the big burly bouncer allowed access into the entrance, you nearly wept in relief as warm air engulfed your tense form. There wasn't even time to luxuriate in the feeling before your breath was taken away at the sight of the club. And it truly was a sight indeed.

"Damn. I knew it was nice but I didn't know it was this nice." Diamond laughed, her eyes also overlooking the exquisite embellishment of the establishment.

The club was definitely the most lavish establishment the three of you had ever seen. Neon and strobe lights were blaring radiantly high above on the mirror like ceiling which beheld the myriad of dancing bodies on the dancefloor. There were barely clad women dancing on raised circular podiums with metal poles. It instantly reminded you of an exclusive boutique nightclub type vibe.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get on the dancefloor and shake some ass." Candice stated as she took hold of her friends hands and lead them unto the brimming dancefloor, dancing along the way.

For the next hour or so, Diamond, Candice and you friends dance and throw back drinks like nobody's business. Frankly, you'd lost track of the amount of embarrassing snapchat videos that were taken in the process. The night was turning out way better than you expected it would be. It was crazy since you weren't that much of a drinker in the first place and didn't exactly have the best tolerance for alcohol while your friends were already seasoned drinkers by the age of eighteen. You were mildly surprised that your feet haven't started screaming in distress with how much moving your were doing both on and off the dance floor.

While Diamond was currently preoccupied grinding on a guy she'd recently hit it off a couple of months ago with on the dancefloor - Candice was drinking and chatting it up at the bar with the bartender much to your surprise. Usually she wouldn't be bothered to give any guy the time of day, you briefly wondered what kind of magic powers this guy had to have to get her attention. Regardless, they seemed to really like each other despite being complete strangers.

Desperately needing a break and not wanting to cockblock in any way, you'd done your own thing by standing off near the bar and the dancefloor to keep a close eye on the other two. You felt entirely responsible for their well-being, since you knew how lit your friends could get if you let them. Besides someone needed to be sober enough to guide them back home and you weren't feeling all that tipsy to the point of being incoherent just yet. You did, however, have to go use the bathroom.

Carefully attempting to maneuver your way through the crowd of moving bodies towards a set of open double doors being illuminated by a bright pink, a few people still managed to bump into you despite your efforts. A woman turned to give you a stank look, lips fixing in sneer which you recuperated in full. You had absolutely no intention of fighting in a club, in city you'd never been in, and risk being thrown in jail but that didn't mean you wouldn't. You were never above any behavior where someone could get their ass whooped for trying you.

Fortunately, the woman was smart enough back down and go her separate way before things could get really ugly between the two of you.

After passing through the adjoining doors looking down the long tinted hall for the bathroom and running into about three locked doors, it took little to no time to summarize that you were indeed lost. After going up some stairs and roaming through the winding corridors, you were now positive that you wouldn't be able to find your back back into the club area with your friends despite being able to still hear the music pounding in the background. Now horribly irritated after wandering the hall for the past five minutes, you were just prepared to give up when the sound of a hushed tone reached your ears. Somewhat curious and in need of some help, you followed the voice until you came to a door that was slightly ajar, the sound of your heels clicking like horseshoes.

Peeking your head around the corner you observed a closed off, partition like area that overlooked the entire club as a whole - to you it look like an exclusive VIP section. Although the view was limited you could precisely make out about two figures talking amongst themselves, obviously they were doing business. One man regular looking businessman dressed in black suit, perhaps a politician of some sort. The other, however, was an entirely different story.

Poised and seated comfortably in a large chair that resembled a throne, his features were beyond striking. With sleek green hair and pale skin and the most beautiful crystalline blue eyes you'd ever seen. There were expensive looking rings on his fingers and gold chains around his neck. The man was adorned in a button up white dress shirt and perfectly pressed slacks. His bow tie was undone, hanging loosely near his openly exposed upper chest which was decorated with various tattoos. His steady, unwavering gaze spoke volumes, he was pissed about something. What it was exactly - you hadn't the faintest clue.

You realized that you shouldn't be snooping on this interaction any further but the noisiness on your part was begging to know more. To know what exactly was going on. A low growling voice brought you out of your musing and back into the fold as its tone filled the space with menacing authority.

"You know if I didn't know any better Mr. Wilson...I'd think you and your associates were stealin from me."

You watched as the other man scrambled frighteningly for an explanation. "Of course not! We would never even think of stealing from you!"

"Oh I don't care what you're thinking of. All I know is that totals are coming up incorrect. And that means someone is fucking with my property." He snarled as he leaned in close. " You don't fuck with my property."

You could see that other man pale and tense up anxiously at the words that mirrored a threat. By this point you knew you had no business continuing to spy and yet you still didn't move. Even the man when pulled out a purple gun from the holster you didn't even notice was strapped across his broad chest.

You realized you had no idea who these people were and what kinda shady activities they were into but you could gather that clearly the strange looking man was the other man's boss.

"You don't wanna get on my bad side do ya?" He asked lowly, patting the gun against the scared man's head.

"N-no sir."

A high pitched laugh rang out in response. "Are you sure? Are you really, really sure?" He gibed, leaning into the man's personal space, gripping the man by his jaw painfully to which the man could barely nod.

"Frost. Hand me the pliers."

"Ya see. I'm having a little trouble believing you right now. I can't believe a word that comes out of your disgusting liar mouth." He sneered. Even when the tool was placed in his hand he didn't once stop taking. "Oh I know! I know how you can prove it. Your trust to me."

The pliers were then waved in the man's face. "Why don't you give me a great big smile?" He proposed, his face lively with clear elation. "Go on. Give it to me. Let me see those pearly whites!"

You could see the man's face already severely contorted and the grip of his face obviously wasn't going to be loosened, how he was going to try and pull off a smile was beyond doubtful.

When the man attempted to give his best impression of a smile, the pair of pliers were shoved near his mouth, tightly clamping around a tooth before it was yanked out altogether. The sight and cry of pain startled you enough to force you to pull your eyes away and lean against the wall in disbelief. Whoever these guys were, you didn't need any more convincing that they were in fact the real deal. This was a dangerous thing you were doing.

Shoving the shaking man back into his chair, the pale man briefly inspected the forcefully yanked out tooth in his possession. "Well then...now that you've proved your trust to me. I think we all can rest assured that the money will be delivered on time and that we won't have another mishap like this again. Are we clear?"

"Y- yes sir." The man answered, his mouth filled with bleed.

"Good. Cause I won't have this conversation a second time. Now get the fuck out. You're ruining my good time." He commanded, waving an impatient hand.

The man hurried towards the door in and panic which you quickly scrambled to hide behind, watching as he ran down the hall, most likely to find the exit. Frankly, you should've followed him but you had chosen to risk stupidly another glance into the room. While the strange man was ordering his goons, you noticed that his attention had been drawn elsewhere when one of them cut him off to inform him of an issue. Leaning in closer, you followed their gaze to a row of screen monitors that were unequivocally connected to various cameras in different areas inside the club. One monitor you noticed in particular was clearly focused on a hallway, the very same hallway you could be seen eavesdropping in.

This horrible realisation coupled with that fact you know you'd now been caught made panic rush through your entire frame. Before the men could even turn on you, you hurriedly raced down the hall in the direction you'd watched the bloodied man run, feet pumping so fast you forgot you were even wearing high heels.

Despite previous difficulty, you managed to find the main room in a blind panic, moving through the crowd briskly, not once caring if you bumped into anyone at this point. Once you reached the bar, you ordered a drink to ease your frayed nerves, downing it in an instant. You just needed a quick drink and you would find your friends and leave this place. You prayed to God that they wouldn't be able to find you in the crowd. Keep a low profile was your best bet.

"Well, hello there beautiful." You recognized the voice immediately, the blood in your veins chilled. "You know it's really impolite to spy." The very sight of him standing near, flashing memorizing metal teeth makes you tense up and your chest tight. You didn't miss the fact that he was flanked by multiple men, his subordinates you saw in the back.

Immediately, you tried to come up with a plausible explanation. "Listen, I'm really sorry about that. I got lost on my way to find the ballroom and I was planning on asking for help when I heard voices."

"Is that so?" He purred, head tipping a fraction, smile never leaving his face. "Why don't you ah, accompany me back to my office." He suggests, placing an icy hand on your lower back, pristine blue eyes dangerously inviting. You already knew you didn't have a choice since he was already guiding you towards the back once more. There wasn't even time to decline and tell him you were responsible for looking after two other people who, speaking of which were nowhere to be seen. This was just your luck - to be find yourself in this sort of trouble on your first night in the notorious city of Gotham of all places. Talk about a night gone wrong.

"Uh...okay." You mumbled lowly, allowing him to escort you back to the forbording office, the men with him were instructed to wait outside and the door closed with a haunting clink. Instead of retaking his place in the grand chair, he chose to sit on a nearby plush looking couch, lighting a hidden cigar from a silver box. Extending a hand towards the place next to him in a bid for you to take a seat. Which you did quickly.

Once again, you began to think of ways you could to talk yourself out of the current predicament. "Um. You look familiar. Have we met before?" It wasn't a lie or a tactic. He really did look somewhat familiar to you. Like you knew him from somewhere.

"Oh I'm sure if I'd met such beautiful little lady like yourself before I would've remembered." He answered with sinister charm coating every inch of his voice. "What's your name little lady?"

You hesitated for a few moments, watching as his eyes narrowed a fraction. "It's _." You said. "What's yours?"

"Oh. You can just call me...Mister J." He remarked with a smile."

"Mister J huh? Is that short for something?"

"You ask too many questions little lady." He sung.

"You asked me a question first."

Mister J frowned, not at the comment but at the lack of fear on her face. He was beginning to think she did not know how he was exactly. And that bothered him. He wasn't all that concerned with her spying on him and his cohorts as he should have been in the moment. He'd decided that she was too much of a novelty to punish. Besides...there were other things she was good for.

"Where ya from little lady?"

"Well I'm from down south but I've lived in New York my whole life. I'm here visiting some friends I haven't seen for years. They thought that coming to this club would show me a good time." You explained.

Mister J let out a boisterous laugh. "I'm certainly honored that they would chose my club to come to for enjoyment."

In the back of your mind, you thought he might have owned this place. It certainly explained a great many things.

"Oh is that right?" You didn't like how hard his eyes were regarding you at this moment. It was making your body flush and its temperature rise steadily. You were attracted to him there was no doubt about that. But after all you'd seen tonight, you'd determined that he was bad news. Really. Really bad news. Additionally, there was nothing appealing to you about sleeping with a complete stranger right after the two of you just met. And in this case your discomfort was magnified by ten.

"Are you enjoying my wonderful establishment so far."

"Yeah. It's just that... after a while it got a bit boring. I mean the music is great and the scenery is nice but besides people-watching there isn't really isn't any exciting going on. It got tedious really quick for me."

Placing tattooed hand over his heart, the man made a hurt face. "My my my how you wound my pride. If it were anyone else I'd feel insulted. Though I respect your honesty."

You could feel his hot breath as he leaned in closer to your flushed face. "But don't you worry one bit. Oh I can provide you allll the entertainment you'll ever need."

"Thank you but I respectfully decline." You said.

"Little ladies who get caught snooping around don't get to make those kinds of decisions. Listening in on issues you shouldn't. As far as I'm concerned...you're in big trouble with me." He teased, through his tone was deadly serious.

In that moment, your heart dropped to your feet. You knew how men in a position of power operated - if you denied him his wants, it could very much spell calamity for you. In a last ditch effort, you attempted to convince him to let you walk away.

"So um...my friends are probably worried sick waiting for me to get back to them. I need to head back now."

"They're fiiinnnneeee. Sit back down." He urged. "Have a drink with me."

"I can't. I didn't tell them I was leaving and-"

"Don't make me ask you twice beautiful." His tone sounding much darker, the lighter expression on his face seemed as if it had changed at the drop of a dime into something much more threatening.

When he saw the expression of your face, Mister J put out the cigar in an elaborate ashtray on a nearby table. "I am what's known as a man of hard countenance."

"W-what does that mean?" You asked.

"It means when I tell someone to do something, they fuckin do it. Understand."

At that your brows knitted together, smart mouth offering a response before your brain knew what was happening. "I understand. I understand that there's not a man alive that can tell me what to do."

Eyes narrowed menacingly Mister J regarded her with a disapproving gaze before red lips broke into a smile. "I like you little lady. I like you a lot. Let's play a little game."

One of your brows lifted in question knowing that his intentions were entirely sinister. "What kind of game?"

"A fun game. A follow instructions game."

It dawned on you - the kind of man he was. He was not the man you stole from, not the man you spy on, and most certainly not the man you play games with. You shift uneasily on your feet but decide to take the bait anyway. "Okay. What's it called?"

"Hmmm let me see." He said mockingly, as he pressed a hand to his chin pretending to contemplate his clear already made choice. "Let's play...simon says." He stated evenly, looking over your confused expression and long blinking eyelashes. "That's a fun game right?"

For the people dueling out the demands perhaps.

"Now why don't we start with a beginner trial huh?" He insinuated with a smile, metal grill making a full reappearance. "Simon says...listen to everything Mister J tells you to."

Your didn't dare offer a single defiant rebuttal lest you be missing a few teeth before the night was over. And you happen to like your teeth very much. So with great reluctance you gave a small barely noticeable nod.

He released an excited laugh, perking up immediately and watching her expectantly. "See! We're already off to a great start!"

He licked his lips when he made his next request. "Simon says turn around and face the opposite direction."

It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he was leering at your backside. Not even remotely surprised when two hands massaging the plump round globes, since one of the most notable features about you was your ass - which attracted all sorts of attention. Mostly unwanted. Only now you were feeling incredibly shy with all the attention he was giving you.

"So tense...let me see what I can do about that."

It was then he turned you around and directed you to sit next to him on the sofa in one swift movement almost making you dizzy. Bewildered you stared wide eyed at his somewhat handsome but mainly unusual visage, now fully aware of his sudden change in bearing.

Just what is happening right now? You thought.

Every muscle in your body suddenly tensed as he released you and you watched quietly as the man retrieved two glass and filled them with an expensive looking alcohol beverage. The brown liquid swirling smoothly in the glass as he poured it then offered it to you.

"Here. Let's have that drink now." The moment blue eyes met your hazel ones, a coldness started building in your form as you beheld his unchanging expression beheld scandalous intentions that he no doubt planned to inflict on you. By this point, you could only hope he'd let you leave after you both shared this drink together. Since your gut was currently screaming at you to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.

With a heavy heart you accepted the drink, the glass feeling weightless and cold in your anxious hand. The man lifted his glass in a toast, waiting for you to repeat the action before you both threw it back. Unbeknownst to you, he was watching as you took a small sip and didn't quite finish. Mostly because this was probably the strongest drink in the world and wasn't that easy to gulp down.

A lone hand reached out to stroke your exposed thigh lightly. "Such beautiful brown skin…"

"Thank you...I guess." You shrugged, you hadn't meant for your answer to come out like you were questioning the nature of his observation, it just so happened to sound that way.

"Sweet gorgeous gal...would you like my company tonight?"

One of your brows raised at this. "Aren't I already in your company?"

Mister J clicked his teeth and wagged a finger at you. "Not in the sense that you mean."

You didn't exactly know what that meant so you turned your gaze to the glass in your hand, grip tightening minutely around it. It looked appealing enough to smash over his head but you doubted you'd live long enough to be able to tell about it.

In your reverie you weren't paying any attention to the subtle movements he was making until it was too late.

In a move that was too fast to fully comprehend, a strong arresting hand captured your jaw and a pair of lips crushed unto yours. Shocked beyond comprehension, you could do nothing but sit in acute silence, complete incapable of resisting. Before long a long tongue forced your mouth open, expelling the contents of what was in his mouth into yours.

The bitter tasting alcoholic drink did its part in washing the small pill down your throat and into your stomach, just as adrenaline began its damaging trek through your system. Pulling back and staring down unto your startled, shaken face, once more flashing gleaming metal.

"That's it gorgeous, swallow it down...I promise it'll make you feel good."

Straightaway panic reached the forefront of your mind turning your somewhat sensible but desperate thoughts deleterious. "What did you give me?" You asked, a hand shooting up to your mouth.

He leaned back on the sofa, an arm thrown carelessly over the back of her side of the couch, like he didn't just slip her what was likely a drug. "Oh just a little something to calm your nerves. It's sure to help you, ah, relax. You won't have to worry about being so tense anymore."

He chose to slide closer and you tried your best to lean away without it being noticeable. "Consider the pill as just a little kick for measure...besides I can make you feel even better." He whispered in your ear, hot breath encouraging the unmanageable trembling.

That's when you started to feel the effects kicking in - your muscles to soften and mind to delay for a short time. There was also a slight change in your visual perception, it was like you were watching things take place from the inside of a long dark tunnel through everything was greatly enhanced. The worst part you presume is - the unbearable heat that's slowly overtaking your frame from the inside out with a vigor that was causing a faint sheen of sweat to developing on your forehead. A tingling sensation in your genitals was telling it all - he has given you some sort of aphrodisiac.

You gripped your thighs together uncomfortably, a large blush forming as you began gasping in strained breaths in a desperate attempt to relieve an unidentifiable ache.

"Do you know what beautiful women do to me" Mister J's rich voice queried lowly and you felt a chill run through your form. His smile slightly fading away. "Maybe I'm asking the wrong question. Do you know what I do to beautiful women?"

Every crevice of your mouth was licked and tasted as you felt his hand drift down between your legs to tease the quivering flesh there.

"There's nothing wrong with causing a little chaos everywhere you go. Otherwise the world would be a boring place. So dull and mundane."

"See me...I like to sprinkle a bit of havoc here and there from time to time. Wreaking things that people consider most important - just to give them multiple perspectives in life. You might not understand it now but you will."

But not before making you a lewd offer that sent shivers up your spine. "Even more so, wreaking things is just embedded in my nature. So what do ya say little lady? Wanna get wrecked tonight?"

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Although it was mainly a color filled blur, the car ride was spent being kissed, touched and groped sensually. Of all the things that could've possibly happened, you had no idea that the beginning of your interaction with one another would ultimately lead to this.

The next thing you knew, you were dropped unceremoniously on a king sized bed with silk sheets in a notably lavish bedroom. Mister J stood appraisingly above you smiling down with lascivious intent like you were his prey; making your stomach knot with anticipation. You could tell he would make good on his promise of wrecking you as you peered up at the man from under fluttering lashes. Heat was still pooling in your tummy, igniting a fire that threatened to burn your entire body alive, already feeling like your body was afloat and would melt into the sheets.

You panted into the air, your body teaming with all sorts of euphoric sensations. That pill had you feeling effects you couldn't even describe let alone handle, leaving you practically aching for any sexual contact.

You willed him to say something or more properly do something. Anything.

"Are you going to stand there staring at me?"

He lets out a tumultuous laugh at your bold, taunting choice of words, like it amused him, which it clearly did. Then he gave you a look of hunger and lust in his luminous blue orbs. It spoke volumes. Tonight he would have his fill of you. Even now you could make out a very noticeable rise within the fabric of his slacks. After another second of brazen glaring, he leaned down to kiss and lick her exposed neck passionately.

"You don't even understand do you? The things I'm gonna do to ya?" He husked into your exposed ear before flicking a wet tongue into it.

Mister J's strong ringed fingers gripped your chin, leaning down to crush his lips against yours while the other ravenous hand hiked up your dress up over your stomach. He then pulled back to look at you - uttering words that had your heart beating furiously. Your panties were thoroughly soak by this point.

"I'm going to fuck you in ways your mind cannot possibly comprehend."

You blushed at the raw dominance in his growling voice, the mere greedy undertone of it had your throat going dry as his eyes visually caressed the expanse of your excited features and state of mind. To be under the control of a dangerous man like him was...exhilarating.

Mister J's shifted so that his weight pressed intimately against your body and a strong, restricting hand imprisoned both of your wrists above your head roughly. "And to think you've gotten yourself in all this trouble because you wanted to snoop around in other people's business."

Heady blue orbs carnally assessed your chest heaving, gasping for the air you could could barely draw in.

Mister J's bigger form pressing you firmly into the lightness of the bedding. A rough hand fisted your curly tresses, effectively keeping your head where he wanted it, not allowing movement of any kind. He watched hungrily as your dazed eyes wandered around. His fingers circled indulgently over your clit, successfully coating his fingers in your wet essence of desire. A lone finger caressed over the sensitive walls of your cunt with tormenting languor.

"You're enjoying this aren't you? Dirty girl."

You were still panting to the point you were practically struggling to catch a single breath, which was nearly impossible to properly take in.

"I can do anything you want me to." "All you have to do is ask."

You were a sucker dominant men, men who could and would forcefully break down your cheeky, impertinent behavior and reduce you into a pathetic display of of simpering submissiveness. In the back of your mind, you knew that the moment he slid inside you - all the taunting and games would end abruptly. Any defiance would be shattered effortlessly.

Suddenly you felt callused hands sliding up your thighs and beneath your dress; pulling the fabric up and over your head before finally throwing it clear across the room. Completely baring lace panties to the room and to his leering, lascivious gaze.

Like him staring at the sight of your unclothed pussy for the very first time, you could see the yearning intensify on his features as of course you were not unfamiliar with the intricacies of sexual activity.

You feel the heat of his breath against your seeping clit, as he spread your legs wide open and pushed then up towards your shoulders. He dives right in with no hesitation, sucking the delicate nub in his ravenous mouth. Practically bathing you with his tongue. Almost immediately you were mewling and squirming fingers digging into the fabric beside your hips.

"Ohhh….ah."

His tongue was lapping at you like his life depended on it, prodding every inch of your folds, soaking you in saliva. Your head thrashed fiercely against the pillows, chest heaving at his ministrations, whining eagerly for more. Both hands came up to open your legs wider before one ultimately slid over your heated flesh. Using pressing a thumb unto your pleasure bud gently. Two fingers slipped inside your tight, wet you chanced a euphoric, heavy-lidded look down at him - you were met with an equally lustful gaze as he devoured you with lethal intention. Truthfully, it was the most scurrilous scene you'd ever found yourself in - possibly in your entire life.

For the moment you could at least tell that foreplay was not all that much appealing right now as the man appeared far too horny and anxious to indulge or wait. At least on his own part. Your body's natural lubrication and his excessive saliva would have to do.

Pulling away and forcefully ripping open his expensive dress shirt in a single movement, the skin of his chest was on full display. The man had a lovely physique, skin like a perfectly carved marble in a museum. Head still swimming in obvious forced jubilation, you made out the sound of a belt buckle being undone and after a brief glimpse his dick sprang free, massive and heavy between you both.

Searching hands settling over your narrow hips in an attempt to keep you grounded at the right angle as he eased his way in. Pressing his engorged mushroom head against your waiting, sopping wet opening. Inch by thickened inch the man slipped into pillowy warmth, watching intently as your face twisted in both pain and desire. Eyes screwed shut as you struggled to adjust.

You didn't have have the capacity to worry about him using any sort of protection. The drug had made logically thinking impossible. That's how fucked up you were at the moment.

The man clenched his jaw; the heat of your body clutching and massaging his dick like a divine vice.

The feeling of which was indescribable - an enticing feeling that had your body feeling hot and fiending for more.

Fullying guiding his length in a careful yet impatient fashion, the man rose up on his knees, readjusting his hold on you as as began steadily moving. Blue eyes burning with primal hunger, appreciatively scanning the expanse of your curvaceous body.

Wanton fervent moans filled the room, your face overflowing with agonizing rapture. Core tingling with decadence that had spread throughout your entire body, bundle of nerves located between your legs was aching something fierce. The drug definitely amplified the feeling and effects of pleasure tenfold, leaving you incredibly sensitive like you were floating on a cloud of mindless lust.

It was sensual - incredibly sexy. His dick covered in glistening juices and watching as it disappeared and reappeared inside your tight, unyielding body. The blunt stimulation was almost unbearable for you to endure, letting out a deafening wail of delight, body spasming uncontrollably each time.

"Oh, would you look at that that...is that your sweet spot beautiful?" He cooed, as you looked up at him in a pleading stare. Grip tightening when he didn't receive an answer immediately afterwards. "Fuckin answer me...now."

He started pounding into you; hips slamming into yours roughly, sliding to the hilt in one smooth push each time. The heady sensation of your body entering a fever pitch was as unavoidable as it was welcoming. "Oh yessss! Yesssss!"

There was no doubt in your mind that he was enjoying the sex as well. The wet squelching and moaning seemed to be music to his ears. "Yes! Sing bitch sing!" He urged, increasing his porngraphic actions and laughing at the way your body reacted.

Your body contorting and squirming beneath the merciless, depraved assault, too blissed out to do anything more than take it. His dick was making every nerve ending within your overworked body come to life.

You pressed sweaty, shaking palms unto his chest, in a desperate effort to get him to lighten up on his heavy thrusting but all that was seemingly anger him. A squeak of surprise left your lips when he gave a sharp thrust.

You couldn't recall a single instance where you were screwed so thoroughly. Mister J was fucking you hard and deep - to the point were you had to resist screaming.

"Move that fuckin hand." He growled.

Both of you were drenched in sweat.

He began an even pace of short stroking that had stars dancing across your vision as he nonchalantly ignored your pleas for reprieve.

"Please." You cried out.

"Please what?" The man asked between hard slams, forcing you to let out a weak, drawn out sob.

His hand slid into your curly locks hard enough to crane your neck painfully as you writhed. "Oh god!"

A smirk broke out across his face. "Mister J will do just nicely."

Tension began unraveling deep in your tummy, surges of glorious pleasure slowly ingraining on your sanity. For you it was mind-bending exhilarating ecstasy. Your gushing pussy on the verge of exploding and sending you into another dimension. The pleasure rapidly driving you into a shuddering climax. After several more firm slams your back arched up from the bed, releasing a shriek into the space as the man continued hammering viciously.

His handsome visage smiling down at you was the last thing you saw before you blacked out entirely...

Chapter Text

Waking up from the stage of prolonged consciousness never felt like more of a task than it did in the moment. The first thing brought to your attention was how warm and snug you felt cocooned in the sheets. Your eyelids felt incredibly heavy as they slowly lifted over your unfocused eyes in the space of the bedroom. It was obvious that you were waking from a very deep slumber as a dull pain around your forehead reminiscent of a migraine, encouraged an intense sensitivity to any minimal light. Squinting against the light, it took a moment to summon strength to your limbs in order to move. The muscles in your back, hips, and legs were awfully sore and tight. Considering the type of night you had, this wasn't really all that surprising.

Standing near the bedside was a stone-faced man wearing a black suit. He looked as though he'd been waiting for you to wake up for quite some time. The thought was creepy enough without having to notice that he held a phone to his ear as he stared down at you.

"Boss she's awake now." He spoke quietly to someone on the other end of the phone.

You took a moment to wait for your full awareness to come back before noticing that you were lying in a king-sized bed enveloped with silk pillows and soft linens. Even something as simple as sitting up proved to be somewhat difficult and you groaned with the effort while positioning the sheets over your naked chest. Glancing around the bedroom itself was enormous. A glamorous chandelier hung from the center of the room and there was elaborate furnishing in several areas of the rooms. Overall, the room possessed a very masculine feel to it. There were other mysterious doors attached to the room but you weren't in the mood to snoop around. The original task of finding your friends and going home took precedence over everything. With no bedside clock, there was no way telling whether it was morning or afternoon. However, if you had to guess, there was a huge chance that you slept past twelve.

"Yes sir, I'll make sure she does." This practically solidified the suspicion that someone was giving him orders to carry out. Providing instructions on what they wanted you to do. Almost instantly you had a theory of who that 'someone' might be.

You turned your wandering gaze up back towards the man's impassive face that was watching your every move like a hawk. Waking up to this unknown man made you realize that your green haired lover was nowhere in sight. Frankly, you'd never heard of a one nightstand that wasn't there the next morning. Truly, that was the least of your problems. Just where the hell are your clothes? You expected them to be scattered across the floor only to be surprised that they were not. Your phone just so happened to be missing also. As if things couldn't get any worse.

"Hey." The tone of his voice had you giving him your full attention. "Get up and get dressed."

One of your eyebrows lifted at the rude demand, you likened it to the way in which a dog was given a command by their expectant owner. For several seconds, you merely stared in disbelief, was he being serious right now? "Excuse me?"

Closing the phone and placing it within his suit jacket, the look on his face portrayed nothing but disgust and sheer agitation. As if you weren't worth his time. "Get up. Put on your clothes."

"Are you asking or are you telling?"

"Telling. Now get up."

"I don't even know where my clothes are." You explained to him, irritation mounting with each second.

He moved to procure your heels and clothing from a place near the end of the bed away from your line of vision. Throwing the items carelessly on the bed before crossing his arms expectantly.

This action made you realize just how close you were to lashing out at him in frustration. Could he not afford to spare you at least a minute of privacy. Having made the distinction that this guy was really high up on the asshole scale. Something told you that he was probably used to talking to women this way and treating them disdainfully. "I can't get dressed with you watching."

The sneer on his face and body language informed you that he would not be leaving the room or allow you any privacy to demeanor in which the man regarded you made you feel like absolute shit.

Taking a hold of your possessions, you hugged the thin bed sheet to your form once more, waiting for him to do something over than stare at you in your current state of undress. "Turn around."

"No." He said in a low, heated growl.

"I'm not getting dressed until you turn around." You firmly stated, prepared to protest for as long as it took to get him to heed your demands.

Mr. Asshole narrowed his beady eyes at you, silently contemplating whether or not it would be worth the trouble to throw you out completely naked rather than simply give you what you wanted. "Make one wrong move and you'll regret it." The man lowly growled, opening his jacket to reveal a holstered gun as he turned in the opposite direction.

What a patronizing asshole.

You hurriedly eased from bed as if you were being timed, slipping on the surprisingly untorn dress before fumbling with your tall heels.

Your phone showed not one single text from either of your friends. This meant that they either had to be hungover or were currently in the same bizarre predicament as you. Neither of which was comforting. One thing was for certain, this was one of those awkward times you were looking forward to the walk of shame.

Anxiety was kicking in hard and you were starting to feel trapped. It suddenly occurred to you that you were probably in a worse situation than original thought, waking in an undisclosed location not being able to remember much of the night before. One thing was for certain, that this was your very last one night stand for life. In fact, your 'one night stand' was not normal in any sense of the meaning, being drugged and all. The lines of consent were definitely blurred by a wide margin. The man, if he could even be referred to as that, was not normal. Truthfully, you gathered that when you watched the guy rip a man's teeth from his head.

Suddenly both doors to the bedroom opened to admit two suited, stoney-faced men.

"Get her out of here." Mr. Asshole ordered them with an arrogant wave of his hand.

The men promptly heeded the order without hesitation, both securing a grip on your upper arms and began leading you out of the room. These actions are what caused you to clench your teeth so hard that you thought they might chip. You didn't know the men from a can of paint and yet here he was grabbing you and treating you like the scum of the earth. With you being forcefully guided out of the bedroom, it was only a wonder that you didn't trip and fall flat on your face. You could only move so fast in high heels. There were a number of times where you nearly stumbled and they simply kept moving with any consideration to your well-being.

You attempted to voice your distress to them and how rough they were treating you. "Hey...could you not.."

"Shut up."

"No you shut up! You're hurting me." You snapped.

Considering that it might not be the smartest idea to mouth off to armed men, your lack of fucks to give was a possible contributor. They were being rude as hell and the question was could you deal with it until you found safe harbor. Getting home was more important right now.

The grand interior of the house included stylish decor and high quality furnishings chosen by the owner - whoever that may be. You had to give props where they were due. The homeowner had a great taste. It made you wonder what they did for a living - probably robbed banks. Observing other closed off rooms, asymmetrical designs, and fascinating wall art pieces. The predominant colors seemed to be purple and black with brilliant hues of gold adding to the opulence. You were more than shocked to behold such luxury. This was your first time seeing such a sprawling estate up close. Still no sight of the tattooed man.

The men continued to direct you down a large winding staircase leading to the first floor. In the foyer's threshold stood a beautiful marble fountain, clear water softly cascading in a mesmerizing fashion. The sound melodic as it reverberated in the surrounding area. If you weren't so busy getting roughly escorted out of the place, you would've stopped to admire the decor. A set of tall double doors served as a grand entrance to the mansion and a perfect inspiration for any architect.

The sunlight and cold breeze was welcoming as it swept over your brown skin, insighting chills and goosebumps, a reminder that your freedom was near. A black car was already parked with a driver and another man waiting to take from you from your current tormentors. A dark, hood-like material was placed over your head to incapacitate your vision before you were shoved into the back of a darkened Mercedes. The action played out much like a kidnapping scenario you'd seen too many times on television. Once the car began moving, you fidgeted in an effort to calm your nerves. Having your vision obscured made everything so much worse. You grew more uneasy as the seconds turned to minutes. Just where were they taking you? It wasn't like they knew you were staying with friends.

Who could've thought that your first night in Gotham would turn out like this?

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Candice lived in a quaint little two bedroom apartment on a nicer, more decent side of the city. This side in particular, nowhere near extravagant, only adequate. Walking into Candice's two bedroom apartment never felt so pleasant than it did in that moment. Candice was slumped messily over the couch. Diamond on the other hand, didn't even make it to the other couch and was laid out on the carpet with a thin blanket barely covering her sprawled form.

Diamond was the heavy drinker of the group, Candice was a bit of a mild drinker while it ultimately didn't take much for you to get drunk. As a matter of fact, it was practically common knowledge that you weren't capable of holding your liquor well.

Opening the blinds to let some sunshine into the dimmed room, you started to wake your friends. "Rise and shine sleeping beauties."

"I feel like my kidneys are shutting down."

"I think I'm dying. Somebody call 911." Diamond groaned, clutching a couch pillow to her chest.

You snickered at this.

Candice snorted loudly before grimacing and placing a hand over her forehead. "Please don't laugh, I'm already fucked up."

"So dramatic."

"I wonder which drink was the last straw. The henny or the dusse?"

"You mean the 'do whatever you say'?"

They knew that no matter how many times she tried to convince herself that she would never touch another bottle, the trio knew Diamond most certainly would. And there was no amount trying to convince them would change that fact.

While you weren't hungover per say, you were definitely still feeling the effects of the unknown drug slipped to you.

Usually, when a circumstance like this happens, the three of you would laugh about it the morning after. The mood lighthearted and humorous. Turns out it'd been a grueling night for all of them and honestly they all needed a system detox.

"Both of you need to drink some water. Stay hydrated enough to flush out your system. I can make us some herbal tea to ease the headaches too." "Candy where's the tea?"

"Top drawer on the left."

Despite the fact that it was past noon and you'd woken up a little while ago, you could feel the visages of a sleep still putting at you. You could feel a short nap coming on.

Handing them cups of tea and bottles of water, you explained, "I want y'all to hurry up and recover. There's still things I want to do and places I want to visit before I leave tomorrow. I won't spend the rest of the day laying around."

"Scratch that, I wanna talk about where you snuck off to last night."

"No, the question is, where the hell did YOU go?"

"Look, I was busy catching a wild penis."

"What the fuck?"

"I nearly hit it off with the bartender."

"Nearly?"

I ended up throwing up on him and ruining the night. Luckily I'd already told him where you lived before I got plastered or I probably would've gotten thrown out on the street."

As your friends wasted no time gossiping about the parts of the night they remembered. You didn't really feel inclined to discuss your hookup/assault. The experience had left you with an excessive amount of strange feelings that you weren't willing to explore. How could you have a conversation with your friends about undergoing the ordeal you barely recalled? How could you tell them that you were drugged? If you told them, it would no doubt bring unwanted complications and you didn't need that kind of trouble in your life right now. Furthermore, you were relieved they were too distracted by each other's stories to call back any attention to how you avoided speaking about yours. For the sake of not alarming your girls and ruining the visit altogether, you opted to push the entire experience to the back of your mind and keep it a secret.

"I hear Joker was at the club last night."

Lifting an eyebrow, you wondered who she might be talking about. The name certainly sounded familiar. "Who's Joker?"

The two of them looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "You know, crime prince, green hair, pale skin?" Diamond added.

"And don't forget the metal teeth."

"If I'd known he was there then we would've picked a different club. You know how fuckin crazy he is."

The description fueled a new shock factor, things were adding up in your head, coming together like puzzle pieces. Desperately trying to come to terms with that fact that Candice had just very accurately described all the features of your paramour for the night. It was haunting. You refused to believe it. At this point, you were anxious because you only thought your brain was being rational.

As your clueless friends steadily conversed, your mind was working overtime putting two and two together. It all started to make sense, the shady encounter where you witnessed him pulling out another man's teeth, the multitude of crude henchmen at his disposal ready to do his bidding. All of it came to a reasonable yet crushing realization that had you shaking. On a whim, you pulled out your phone and initiated the first google search - the outcome devastating.

There were various articles and news reports detailing how the man had murdered and committed so many atrocities leaving nothing but destruction and chaos in his wake. You saw pictures of him committing horrendous deeds with nothing short of glee edging into his features. He'd murdered scores of people. The 'Clown Prince of Crime' they called him. Most of the reports talked about a prolonged feud between a figure who dressed like a bat. That certainly explained the bizarre green hair color and deathly pale skin that made it appear as though it was deliberately painted white. He definitely wasn't the normal type that usually attracted your attention as there was nothing normal about him. He possessed an unnerving charm that had the ability to send electricity throughout your body. All while being the most infamous criminal in Gotham City. How could you have not known?

Jay's words were still echoing in your mind continuously.

"See me…I like to sprinkle a bit of havoc here and there from time to time. Wrecking things that people consider most important - just to give them multiple perspectives in life."

And that he did. At the time, you had no idea what that phrase meant. But knowing what you know now, he was definitely a man of his word.

You still feel those piercing blue eyes burning into yours intensely.

"So what do ya say little lady? Wanna get wrecked tonight?"

Your blood ran cold. Growing up, you'd witnessed many high school girls falling head over heels for drug dealers and violent criminals just for the rush it gave them. Observing how the women struggled and lost control over their lives quickly. You could safely say that you were never one of those girls and you certainly hadn't planned on becoming one ever. There was nothing any criminal had to offer you other than a lifetime filled with misery and regret. And Jay was no different.

You wished you could find some kind of solace in giving him the benefit of doubt but you saw nothing but as you scrolled and scrolled - you saw nothing but continuous examples of how the man was nothing but a violent sociopath. To top it all off, you'd slept with him - while under the influence of drugs.

It took a while before you realized that you were staring into space, letting your mind race uncontrollably. Of all the women in the club that night, he chose to turn his attention to you and take you home. Although you did spy and witness him engaging in illegal activities then fled when caught. Though you weren't exactly sure if sleeping with a person would ensure their silence after catching them doing questionable acts.

He expressed admiration for your body and attitude. If it weren't for the unique circumstance, you would've felt used.

You had to be careful thinking of your own thinking patterns. The way you manifested things people would think you were a magician.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

From your perspective, Gotham City was such a dark, dismal place to live in. Not only that but Gotham wasn't exactly what you expected in terms of prominence, it just seemed so terrible you wondered how people choose to live here. Surely there was a more peaceful, safer city to reside than this godforsaken place. Of course, every city had some rough, poverty filled neighborhoods but this just felt ridiculous. Apparently, crime ran rampant within the gloomy metropolis. The dark clouds up ahead, hinted that it would probably rain later on. Why Diamond and Candice would want to live in such a depressing city was beyond your comprehension.

Nevertheless, you forced the girls to bring you to what looked to be a mall or long stretch of department stores within walking distance of the apartment. There were a lot of people walking around from store to store, their clothing providing an in-depth into the person's tax bracket and what they could afford. Additionally, the stores were at all not what you were expecting. All you saw was Gucci, Prada, Fendi, and Balmain. And you couldn't afford to shop at any of those brands.

"Where the fuck are the normal stores, where normal people, with normal bank accounts can shop?" You irritatingly demanded to your amused friends who looked as if they wanted to laugh directly in your face.

Candice played a hand over her mouth to hide her grin. "These are the normal stores."

"No they're not. Where's the fucking Forever 21? Windsor? A Hot Topic for god sakes!?" You insisted, arms extending in a questioning fashion.

"Oh this isn't that type of mall. This is like...where the rich folks come. Here the best places to shop are online only."

Craning your neck at an odd angle, you regarded both of them with looks of belief. "Could you have told me this before we walked all the way over here?"

"I mean...you're the one who wanted to go so bad." Diamond chimed in having gotten a hold on her giggles.

"This isn't funny. Both of you are assholes and you're on my shit list until further notice."

"Lighten up. I'll make it up to you when we get back to the apartment. Well, at least now you can sight-see."

"Sight-see what? Shit I can't afford?"

"There's a nice food court though."

Shaking your head and rolling your eyes, you slowly started to walk around. "Shut up."

The three of you walked into a few stores here and there but made sure not to linger long since the employees would get antsy expecting you to buy something.

"You guys go on, I need to use the restroom."

You were still a little put off by the fact that there wasn't a Forever 21. Two security guards with a gun at their hips stood at the entrance looking every bit tired as opposed to intimidating.

The employees looked quite skeptical of the both of you the second you entered the store but ultimately said nothing about it. Truth be told, you and Candy had absolutely no business walking your asses in this boujee ass store as it was. The store held heaps of golden rings, expensive platinum watches, and sparkly necklaces. Though you had your eye on a pair of dangling ruby earrings, there wasn't a damn thing you could afford in the entire store. The thousand dollar prices tags solidified that. An older man, obviously the manager regarded you with a watchful eye, never once straying too far away from where you stood. Maybe if you told him that you were poor, he might leave you alone but you seriously doubted it. It was not your first time dealing with a prissy shopkeeper and it wouldn't be the last.

Even as a little girl, you never really owned a plethora of jewelry, especially the expensive kind like the ones you were currently browsing over. The only piece of jewelry you valued was a necklace once owned by your maternal grandmother. Anything beyond that didn't hold much value in your heart.

Ignoring how Candice humorously uttered 'Damn' at every single price, you spotted a beautiful 12 carat diamond as you quietly hummed to Bryan Ferry's 'Don't Stop the Dance'.

Out of the blue, the alarming sound of guns being cocked was heard in the quiet space.

It took a minute for you to realize that this situation was serious. All you wanted to do was look at jewelry you had no chance in hell purchasing, now you were caught in the middle of a robbery. Gotham was just full of surprises.

"Everybody on the fuckin ground!"

You and Candice hit the floor faster than anyone, a lifetime of being black prepared you both for a moment like this. While Candice gave you a look that said, 'I don't wanna say I told you so but', you were quick to give Candice a seething look that portrayed what you felt in the moment. One that answered, 'Save it'.

However, some of the customers didn't take heed to the demand, thinking it was some sort of joke. Without any warming, one of the robbers released a shot into the air, blasting a hole into the ceiling and effectively gaining the cooperation of the disbelieving clients who threw themselves onto the floor.

The men then took to pointing guns at the startled workers, ordering them out from behind the counter and on the floor, ensuring that they couldn't alert the authorities. A bit overwhelmed by the suddenness of the events, it was hard to comprehend what was happening. The scene was very interesting as it played out. One of them took charge of stuffing expensive watches and other jewelry in duffel bags.

You didn't know how, but you could tell that at least two of them were young by the way in which their voices shook as they shouted commands. Why couldn't the trio just walk in and snatch a piece of jewelry then run out like a normal person? It didn't take much to question why a person who lived in Gotham would see the need to want to commit armed robbery.

You briefly wondered if people outside of the store were aware of what was going on. If you had to bet on it, you would say probably not. The trio had obviously planned this out meticulously down to every last detail. Guards and high tech security systems wouldn't stop them from getting what they wanted. Who knows what they could do next. These men had the power and means to shoot everyone in the store but that wasn't their goal. Their goal was to get the expensive pieces and leave as quickly as fate would allow.

How bold do you have to be to rob a jewelry store in broad daylight? With masks and high powered weapons, you instantly deduced that this was the type of shit you expected to see in a movie.

The other unfortunate customers wore looks of confusion and terror as they cowered on the cold, freshly waxed floor in a strained effort to avoid stirring irritation from the robbers who began breaking the glass display cases housing the valuables. These men were doing a smash and grab before the authorities could be contacted. And since they sneakily rushed the store, no one had really had the time to properly react. There were different types of robberies but since this was an unsuspecting incident with unforeseen consequences - it was better for you and Candice to stay out of sight.

First of all, where the fuck were the police!?

Caught in a situation like this, a sane person knew better than to try and be a hero. Of all people, you didn't exactly possess the ability to stop a potential crime when it counted. Of course, you were courageous but you weren't superwoman. Everyone had a different fight or flight response to danger of any kind. People had to make tough decisions in a robbery situation - they could run, hide, or fight. As sensible people, you and your friend had made a decision. Not just that, but you both avoided speaking to one another in order to not draw attention to their hiding spot. Peeping over the counter, you both stared in disbelief at what was unfolding.

A trip to the mall shouldn't result in being held at gunpoint by some brazen crooks. You didn't like being in the vicinity to witness this random act of violence and you surely didn't want a semi-automatic pointing at your head.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

"Wait, so the guards robbed the store?" Diamond asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Robbers posing as guards." Candice corrected.

"Okay and then what?"

Rolling her eyes, Candice clarified. "For the last time, we were hiding behind a counter watching everything go down."

Tuning out the sounds of their back and forth, you placed a hand to your head in order to stop the forthcoming headache. You couldn't even stand to hear the details anymore. "This city is horrible. Don't even ask me to come back. Of all the places to live, why this one?" You remarked, wanting to talk about something else other than the robbery you witnessed earlier.

"Listen, if it wasn't for my job I wouldn't be here." Diamond dramatically insinuated with her long acrylics.

"Same."

After the incident at the mall, you pretty much came to the conclusion that you weren't enjoying your visit as much as you thought. More unpleasant things had happened in the past 24 hours than you could keep up with and frankly, it was mentally draining. It was hard to maintain the disposition of someone who was truly happy when they were feeling the exact opposite. Despite the fact that all three of you were able to find a morbid humor in it as you all lounged around the living room while the food on the stove in the kitchen. Since childhood, you've always loved the aroma of food wafting through any place of residence for a reason. Mostly because you found it comforting. It was nearing nine o'clock and the sound of rain pelting the window was easily distinguishable.

Diamond and Candice seemed to notice your lethargic behavior and commenced the operation of doing any and everything to lift your mood. Everything from cooking one of your favorite meals and dancing in the dark with glow sticks taped to their bodies. The sight was both ridiculous and amusing though it still managed to get a few cackles out of you. You had to stifle a laugh at Diamond dancing to Juvenile's 'Back That Thang Up' with the lights turned off before taking a quick video of it before she could notice. When she turned the lights back on, you laid your head against the back of the couch, endlessly scrolling through your social media pages, trying and failing to find another distraction from the awful mood creeping up once more. But there were only so many meme's you could stomach before they became annoying.

On the other hand, there was worry that perhaps your mood wasn't the result of your own doing, but the atmosphere you were in. The atmosphere that surrounded you. Gotham. The city held such a depressing hold on you, hanging over you like a thick shroud of darkness. There was nothing wrong with wanting to take your mind from any stress. You only hoped your mind stopped thinking of things you didn't have the energy to analyze.

You loved your friends so much it hurt. And therein lies the problem, if either of them found out what had happened last night - there wasn't any guarantee they wouldn't do anything drastic. The whole situation was a bag of worms you never wanted to open. By morning, you expected to regain control of your life before things got worse. Tomorrow you'd finally leave this city and everything could go back to normal.

An iMessage notification from an unknown number popped up on your phone just before you hit the side button to turn the device off. The timing, somewhat strange as you were just about to set the phone down. From the notification bubble, it appeared as though some had sent photos instead of actual messages. As a paranoid person who didn't even answer unknown phone calls, someone having your phone to send pictures was unprecedented. Not to mention, bizarre. Maybe you were putting too much thought into it. Someone had probably had the phone number, it was pretty common to everyone who owned a phone. You deliberated for a moment before opening your iMessage icon to sate your curiosity.

The world around you suddenly fell to the background, your friends' playful banter nothing but white noise in your ears. Oxygen trapped itself in your throat for long moments, heart beating loudly in your ears. There were pictures. Multiple pictures of you out with your friends at the mall a few hours prior. There were pictures of you walking in and out of stores and even close-ups where the perpetrator had gotten close. Some lunatic had actually followed and snapped unauthorized photos of you. It was beyond disturbing. Just who did shit like this?

When new pictures appeared and pushed up the other worrisome images, it was obvious that these were of a different sort. Your eyes widened to astronomical proportions, the sight seemed to take the very breath from your lungs. Considering the fact that you could only remember snippets of the events that led up to the sexual encounter, there was no way of telling when exactly the man had whipped out his phone and started taking lewd pictures and videos of you in various vulnerable states. But you knew it was from last night. There's no way that it wasn't. The sheer embarrassment that flooded your cheeks indescribable. Was this some sort of manipulation or coercion tactic?

Clutching the phone tightly with two hands, you expressed fear that if it were to fall your friends would get a glimpse of you in such a distasteful state. It took everything in you not to let your demeanor falter in front of them. Pretending as if nothing was happening was the hardest thing you ever had to endure at this point. Panicking would accomplish nothing. But how could you get around the fact that someone had suggestive content of you in their possession. No matter what this couldn't be overlooked. If this were ever to get out, you'd die on the spot. Your life would be over.

There was a message attached to the photos, a message that confirmed to you who sent it. You could almost hear his voice as you read it in your mind.

"You be good now gorgeous gal. I'll see ya real soon."

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: How to Disappear

xxxxXXXXxxxx

That crushing weight in your chest refused to recede, pulse beating loudly in your ears as you drowned out any background noise or conversation between your unassuming friends. The last thing you wanted was for your naked body to be posted on the internet. The effects on your life would be devastating. The very thought of having someone visually capturing you at your most vulnerable and exposed without your consent just didn't sit well with you. The nerve of him to film the depraved things he was doing to you while you were drugged out of your mind. Your memory of that night was still hazy at best.

Being caught in the cross hairs with a crime lord of horrendous magnitude definitely classified as an occupational hazard. You had to be cautious and navigate the potential danger of the situation closely.

You typed a quick message. "Who is this?"

You were not at all surprised when he skipped the formalities and got straight down to business.

"You know who this is...my dick was inside you allll night gorgeous. I surely hope you didn't forget so soon. I can always remind you."

The hair on the back of your neck now stood at attention. The words were so filthy and vulgar, it was exactly the type of response you were expecting from him.

"That will never happen again. I know who you are." The infamous Joker. A man who radiated an aura of chaotic danger and who didn't play by the rules of society; wasn't capable of abiding by or even acknowledging civility.

"Of course you do. Everyone who's everyone knows who I am."

In that instant, you bristled at his mocking tone. To hear his voice again was chilling. "You have to delete those photos. I never gave you consent to take them." To make matters worse, you weren't sure you were capable of appointing legal help that would be willing to go up against such a dangerous character.

"And what makes you think I need your consent?" The implications of his callous words carried were a source of worry and contention with you. You felt nauseated and worse of all the fucker didn't seem to have the capacity to to think of your state of mind.

Panic surged through her to the point where it was too difficult to think properly, good thing defiance masked the fear in your voice. "If you don't delete them, I'm going straight to the police."

Obviously unconcerned with the threat or your subsequent distress, Joker responded with a playful, "Go right ahead. In fact, I'm thinking I might have them framed."

That statement really set the tone for the entire conversation. The man was wicked. He seemed to be deliberately blackmailing you with revenge porn. You remembered how he made you feel that night and it wasn't a justification for anything that was taking place now. Just listening to him snicker with delight made you wish that you'd never garnered his twisted affection.

The mounting frustration was well past insufferable for your state of mind. "You'd better delete those photos right fucking now!"

"I don't care too much for your tone doll face. You'd better correct it right fucking now." It was a clear threat. A threat you know he could make good on considering the type of man he was. If he could even be called a man. In all actually, you would never forgive him for slipping you a drug in the first place. Such a disgusting act was exactly from someone like him.

"Fuck you."

"You already did that remember?" It was as if his life goal was to fuck with people and you had to say that he was doing an amazing job. You got the impression that he got a major kick out of it too.

"No you drugged me."

"Semantics."

"Bullshit."

You phone lit up with a call from the unknown number soon after and you thanked god that the ringer was off. There was no way you could've predicted that he would be so bold as to call your phone and expect you to answer with no issue. The fucking audacity.

You pressed the side button to send it to voicemail, unsurprised when a second call was made right after. While it rung you send him another message.

Rejection would cause you to be in all the more danger than you currently were but there wasn't a chance in hell you would bow to his demands. Call it stupid, reckless, or anything else in between. You didn't give a damn. The domineering asshole wasn't allowed to play with your life in such a manner. You were too headstrong for that. Morality be damned. The Joker was bad news either way one tried to split it. It made you wish you'd never went in search of the bathroom at the club that night. And no matter how much you prayed to God that it would just blow over and be forgotten you knew that that would not be the case. He should've gotten his fill of you that night. This was too much for your normal little life.

"It's not up for discussion and I'm not going to bargain with you about it."

The second call soon went to voicemail and soon after another message came through.

"If you don't answer the fucking call you're gonna regret it." You barely had enough time to properly read it before the phone lit up once more. As careful as you could not to alert your friends, you silently went into the bathroom down the hall, locking the door behind you. With no more pretense for stalling, you had to take a few calming breaths before pressing the button and placing the phone to your ear.

"Good girl." Disparaging praise from his condescending lips made you recoil in disgust, heavy tension settled in your shoulders. "I knew you would listen. I was afraid that I would actually have to go through with what I planned."

While it was clear he had no problems taking advantage of you, if he even sensed a shred of emotional vulnerability or fragility he would waste no time capitalizing on it. He couldn't give you any fucking ultimatums. How in the hell would he have knowledge of your location? The thought of him showing up was petrifying and you didn't even want to chance it.

"I bet you didn't even tell your friends about us. I'd be more than happy to face fuck you in front of them."

"You're sick."

"Yes, people keep telling me that." You could faintly hear muffled screaming in the background. Was he torturing someone?

"What do you want?"

This was dangerous, being involved with him could potentially change the quality of your life and not for the better. The worrying part was that you weren't exactly sure of the scope of what he was capable of doing. His threats were not simply threats in your book. For some, his threats could mean a death sentence or worse. But what could be worse than death? The fear that you thought you'd pushed down had returned fully renewed and crept over you like a tidal wave while you did your best not to alert your friends of the peril you were trapped in at the moment. In your mind, there wasn't any benefit of informing them of what was happening. You couldn't force your problems unto them. It wasn't their job to fix it was yours.

"That is a great question! What do I want?"

The only thing you were remotely worried about was the consequences. What would happen if you pissed off the most vicious crime boss known to man? From the little you knew about him, you could ascertain that the man possessed an arsenal of tools he could use to make your life a living hell. You questioned yourself about this while anxiety simmered underneath the surface of your facade of normalcy. Containing your composure was evident. He couldn't be allowed to get you out of your element.

"Oh I know! I want you and I to become great friends. Close friends."

He was mentally deranged. He murdered and incited violence merely because it suited him. What right did he have to try and place binding on your life?

"That won't be possible."

"Its possible because I fuckin say so. Now close your fuckin mouth and listen."

He knew that you were indefatigably defiant and it was obviously something he liked. You had to wonder how much he knew about you beyond what you looked like naked.

"Little girls aren't capable of making adult decisions." he crooned. "But you already knew that don't ya?"

"Here what's going to happen. I call, you come. Simple as that. But don't be thrown off by that - I'll be sure to make it worth your while."

He wore cockiness and self-assuredness like outer skin and that bothered you more than anything. He was used to getting his way. Used to intimidating people. What was he getting out of this besides the enjoyment from tormenting you?

"Do hope we can play together again real soon. I'll be watching you." The line quickly went dead after that.

You didn't really feel like deciphering all the little riddles and innuendos that left his mouth. It all sounded like dialogue written for a villain and you were not in any mood for it. He wanted compliance that you weren't capable of giving. In practical terms, you did your absolute best to make it apparent that you had no intention of reciprocating his unwanted feelings and ensure that he got the message. He was out of his rabbit ass mind if he thought this was going to be prolonged in any facet. His motive seemed insidious from the get go. You wanted zero to do with him.

A look in the mirror showed your face oddly composed despite the storm brewing on the inside.

How were you supposed to sleep well after this exchange? Despite multiple attempts to shake it, your mind was still weighed down with dread. Least of all, you could not assume the life of a paranoid rabbit - you just couldn't do it. In fact, you were taught not to run away from your problems but face them head on. Even if this was an extraordinary circumstance. Only an idiot would try their luck with someone like him.

You'd rather not be burdened with stress and anxiety right now. The only logical thing you could do was ignore the threat, perhaps if you did that it would go away. Fade into nothing. Wishful thing but it was the best thing you could hope for. This town had taken so much from you and you'd only been here for two days. First thing in the morning, you would hop on the first plane back to New York where you belonged; where you should've stayed to begin with. People mess up when they delay their decisions and right now that was something you couldn't afford to do. From now on, if your friends wanted to see you, they'd better visit you in New York because that was no way in hell you'd come back to the god forsaken town.

How were you supposed to get a good night's rest while dealing with a fried brain?

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Having to wake up at the ass crack of dawn wasn't anyone's cup of tea. However, you did not mind at all. You were a hundred percent willing to miss extra sleeping time if you got home fast enough. Candice noticed how closed off you'd become since the previous night and started badgering you about why that was. She refused to let up until Diamond suggested that I was probably sad about having to leave. If only she knew how wrong she was. Still, you provided no explanation to confirm or deny their suspicions.

While you hugged both friends tight Diamond threw out a "Come back soon." and you responded with your best Joseline Hernandez impression. "You sound stupid. You sound stupid and you sound a mess bitch." The two of them laughed so loud that nearly half of the people in the airport terminal turned to look at the three of you. They wouldn't have to worry about your ass stepping one foot back to Gotham. Hell you were still stuck on being caught up in a robbery with one of them and the both of them weren't that phased about it. Anyone who grew up in a black with sense would've gotten the fuck on down much earlier. Your friends must have a screw loose to continue to live here. A good job wasn't enough to make you stay.

In your opinion, the place should be burned to the ground and sprinkled with holy water. If the clown prince had his way, which in all likelihood he would, he'd surely see that it did happen.

The invasive searches and long lines were endured with more grace than you could've thought due to the fact that you were looking to hop on a plane and go home as soon as possible.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

You didn't have a single dream last night which by your own account was wholly uncharacteristic especially since you had at least one each night. It was probably for the best since your stress might've turned the dream into a nightmare. Truthfully, you hadn't slept that well at all.

The worrisome thoughts would not leave you for another seventy-two hours. In a situation like yours, it was normal - some might even say 'required' to be concerned about the outcome. By textbook definition - you were in fact sexually assaulted with the help of an unknown substance. The drug itself didn't seem to have any long lasting effects on your body. Though you couldn't say that you were traumatized verbatim, however you were immensely unsettled deep down in your soul. Everything wasn't so cut and dry and you were swept up in a whirlwind of confusion. This couldn't be perceived as something other than it actually was.

Contemplation of the situation at hand brought forth the question of 'what was to come of it?'. What now? Were you supposed to seek help about your experience? Your sexual assault? The words left a bad taste in your mouth even if you didn't physically speak them. Did you have to develop coping skills?

Who in the hell could you confide in about something like this? It would have to be someone you trusted, someone who wouldn't pry too much into the graphic details. That automatically excluded your parents and friends right off the bat.

You still needed time to effectively process the whole experience as it was if you were being honest. Even though you knew it couldn't be avoided forever. Something like this couldn't be pushed to the back of your mind and forgotten. One thing was for certain, you desperately needed to feel safer in your own body. By safe you meant mentally, emotionally, and spiritually as well. Your body didn't feel like yours any more. Almost like someone putting something on layaway at a store. Having never been in a position like this before, it would probably be difficult to to feel like yourself once again as weird as that sounded.

It had been a full three days since you were back home and you found that being productive only lasted in short bursts. You just were not full of energy. A dark cloud seemed to be lingering over you everyday since you'd returned and you were willing to do whatever it took to get rid of it.

It was mid January, all the colorful leaves were stripped from the trees leaving them completely bare. Outside the sun was being obscured by deep, gray clouds and you're thinking that it might rain within the hour. The mere thought is more refreshing to picture. You loved a good rain albeit that fact you would prefer it to be sunny to improve your mood. Frankly, the sky resembled Gotham's in a way - only that the sky here was temporary while Gotham's bleak visual seemed never-ending. You clenched your teeth when you realized your thoughts were shifting towards a dark place again. You didn't need to be reminded.

The various plug-ins around the apartment filled the space with the scent of white rose which you were surprised that it hadn't faded by now. You'd spent too much on them for them not to last long. Pushing your heavy bed cover back, you sat on the edge for a few moments before moving towards the small balcony where your potted plants were. If it did rain at least they would get water today. The wind chill was icy enough to where it immediately gave you goosebumps. The holidays were just about the only thing associated with the plunging temperatures and cold weather. Thanksgiving and Christmas were spent at your parents house with your little brother Josh who was four years younger than you. He brought his girlfriend to the house for the first time to meet your parents. You father only liked her because she slightly resemble Toni Braxton while you mother was just happy he brought someone home.

You felt the first small drop hit your forehead. You released a sigh of relief and moved towards the bathroom to get ready for your shift at work.

Your soft music playlist mostly consisted of songs from an underground artist named Laurel whom you absolutely adored. Her voice never failed to to soothe your chaotic soul in its time of unrest.

It wasn't hard to admit that you were still a bit shaken by the events of the past few days, in fact, it was relatively easy. You refused to have these troublesome thoughts hovering over your subconscious for too long. Could it be the shock of inevitable change that cripples you with fear and unease? After much time spent in a social setting, you often needed to spend even greater time alone as a way of recharging energy. You wonder why that is. Spending hours away from others was like a means of restoring one's self to a rejuvenated version - lest you struggle with the restlessness associated with a negative mind. Without this, you would not be equipped to deal with the weight of a hundred problems within a single setting.

You always need space to rest, to feel, to introspect and to express. That space leads to growth. Growth that would not be hindered by a man filled with infinite malice. When you left that city you were supposed to leave everything else behind as well. You were a genuinely happy woman, always humble to others, and speaking to maintain that happiness all throughout life. You were certainly the nicest and most welcoming or your friends.

Yet, you were a firm believer that everything happened for a reason. Was karma serving you a notice or something? What terrible thing had you done to deserve this you wondered.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

While it seemed to be an easy workload in the beginning - as time went on you quickly came to the conclusion that you weren't wired for an office job. However, you did see why some people preferred them. Essentially, you were not a manual labor or retail kind of person either. It was a fairly decent job and you constantly reminded yourself that there were people out there that had it worse.

Seeing the same visual setting everyday really took a toll on people you didn't care what anyone else had to say. There was a built-in coffee shop near the lobby area that you enjoyed going over to once in a while. Besides that the office setting wasn't really for you in the grand scheme of things. Everyday you showed up contemplating whether or not you wanted to call-in from the parking lot. Unless you planned to become a millionaire by tomorrow, then this boring eight hour job was where you had to stay for the time being.

Other than the one tolerable coworker you could hold a normal conversation with, the job itself was inherently repetitive and monotonous. Some days it was so quiet that you feared others could hear your loud thoughts. With your annoying short attention span, it was hard to focus on doing some mindless task for hours without your mind wandering off into the deep void of consciousness. Keeping yourself busy did make time go by much faster, if you were able to find something that is. Playing computer games instead of performing your tasks would ultimately result in your manager calling you into his office for a little 'talk' or rather him just using that as an excuse to hit on you despite the fact that he'd already been turned down numerous times before.

You'd received so many inappropriate comments and invitations it was a wonder how many times he would ask again before he finally gave up. If you caught him staring at your ass one more time you'd mush in the face. To top it off, you were certain that he was sexually harassing other female employees as well. Someone would be contacting HR soon, you counted on it.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

You refused to remain huddled in bed another day. Your mental health was at stake and you were determined to conquer the harsh realities of the world one day at a time. Instead you chose to only spend time doing activities that brought you some inner peace. One major activity consisted of doing wash day for your hair. Like most women, you needed to have your whole day clear. Wash day was like a sport for some people, you being one of those people. Having to detangle was probably the worst for you. You were mindful not to use the whole jar of conditioner since it damn near cost an arm and a leg. Instead of the usual thirty minute conditioning, you opted to leave it in for about an hour and a half.

Your apartment wasn't the most glamorous in the city but you took care of it like a mansion. You kept it tidy and smelling good all the time. As usual Josh grumbled about you going overboard about the decor of your place.

You'd gotten a pet fish because you didn't feel like responsible enough for a dog or cat. You'd had the colorful Betta fish that you managed to snap up from a pet store going out of business and had it for about a year and a half now. You named him Sammy since you didn't know if the fish was male or female. Sammy seemed pretty gender neutral. You didn't have to worry about a fish making loud noises, needing a bath, or needing to be taken out for a walk. Plus your carpet would remain unsoiled as well. With your modest funds, you tried to make Sammy's tank as lavish as possible. In the tank were accessories from amazon like a little house and fake ferns. It had become a little hobby of yours and you didn't play on stopping anytime soon. One thing you knew how to do better than anything else was spend money.

As you walked down the hallway leaving to the kitchen, your front door opened and you stopped dead in your tracks thinking someone had to have lost their mind if they would just walk into your home like this. You were just about to reach for a glass figurine when your brother's face came into view. He should be grateful because you were the undisputed dodge ball queen in middle and high school. Your throw would've landed him in the hospital and you would never hear the end of it from your parents.

"Don't just be walking in my house!" You bellowed. "You were about to get dealt with."

His signature goofy smile broke out over his face. "I told you I was coming by. Why is your door unlocked in the first place?"

He would decide to stop by while you were in the middle of deep conditioning your hair. As your little brother, you guessed it was essential for him to be annoying as all hell.

"Unlocked or not that doesn't mean just walk in."

"Yeah. Whatever. What you got to eat in the kitchen?" He asked, gliding right past you. This was normal behavior for him, to seek out the kitchen as soon as he entered someone's house. Josh could clean out someone's pantry quickly.

You rolled your eyes, following him. "I know you got food at your house. And don't touch my graham crackers either."

"I'm not gonna touch your old dry ass crackers." He said, opening up the refrigerator to look inside before snickering. "Why did you got that bag on your head?"

You settled comfortably in a chair near your small island. "Josh don't start with me. Why are you really here?"

Closing the refrigerator door, Josh opened a soda and took a sip from it, leaning back against the counter. "Shaina wanna move in with me but I think it's too soon."

Your eyebrows lifted up. "Ya'll have only been dating for like six months right?"

"Just about."

"Well, I think that if you don't want her to move-in then just tell her that."

"See that's the problem. She acts like she can't take no for an answer."

And now they got to the root of the issue. Josh has always had a hard time telling people no. He worries about disappointing others often. "Josh, she can't force you to do anything you don't want to do!"

"I know that it's just...I feel like I'm being pressured by her to do stuff that I'm not fully comfortable with yet. We might be moving a little too fast for me."

"Yeah. Probably. So what are you gonna do?"

"I don't know."

Your brother was a bit of a goofball and way too trusting to those who didn't really deserve it. The both of you often confided in each other about your problems no matter how big or small they might seem. You and Josh were very close in that aspect and would do anything for the other in a heartbeat. Even if the both of you were angry with each other it usually didn't last long. He could offer that comfort and familiarity that you needed right now.

Sitting in the kitchen, you were full of self-conscious hesitancy that was hard to overcome. This would be the perfect time to tell him about what went on in Gotham. But what was the proper way to explain a plight like yours? Apprehension closed around your throat like a vice. You didn't know how to do this. A pit of uncertainty and nervousness swirled deep in your stomach. The idea of telling him sounded much easier in your head. Jesus you were so conflicted it was pathetic.

"You okay?" Concern was written all over his face. You hadn't even realized that your heartbeat had spiked so much that it was nearly giving you a headache.

A moment of hesitation passed. "Yeah." You refused to let the emotional storm loose in front of him. And what good would it do to recoil in shame? Josh wouldn't be able to handle the bombshell you would drop on him, you just knew it. He would be out for blood and it wouldn't even understand that he didn't stand a chance. If The Joker hurt your brother, if he hurt any of your family, you didn't know what you would do. What he would do to them would be nothing short of horrific.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure." You maintained complete silence for a while, hoping that Josh would take your word and move on. But you knew him better than that. You recognized that fierce, protective gleam in his eyes. Josh was the easiest person to joke, talk, and get along with. To see him upset usually took a lot.

The thought of your family even knowing suddenly terrified you. If they found out they would want revenge.

You made the decision that it was best to handle it on your own. As much as it painted you to keep something like this from family and friends - the options were limited at this point. You simply didn't have the courage you thought.

If you ended up falling apart, then you would do it alone. You would get through this with or without anyone's help.

Chapter Text

It's mid-January, with the rest of the year ahead to look forward to. The streets of New York come with a shifty breeze, even with it being early people are milling about the sidewalks. Car traffic isn't as hectic. Birds chirping a familiar chorus. As expected, most people are bundled up from head to toe. Winter itself isn't enough to stop people from venturing out to brave it's cold winds. The wind chill is nothing to play with and getting a cold isn't something you want at this time of year. This morning, you'd dug deep in your messy closet to break out the full hat, gloves, and scarf set that your mother gifted you for Christmas. You even took the extra precaution to wear a sweater under your huge bubble coat. A pea coat wouldn't have been able to shield you from the air. And you can't stand cold winds blowing against the back of your neck.

For once, the air smells fresh and isn't diluted by other strange smells that normally engulf the city. The sun peeked out from the gradually moving clouds just a tad bit in the cerulean sky. Providing almost no warmth. New York boosted a different kind of cold, one that should never be taken lightly. Hell, even walking down the street felt like you were trudging through the arctic circle. The temperature is only expected to drop once late afternoon comes around. With daylight saving time, it'll start to get dark around five.

It feels like it's been a minute since you've strolled the streets and seen people bustling around. You almost couldn't believe that you'd chosen to leave the warmness of your home just to run a few errands. The tasks would have to be done sooner or later - better to just get it out of the way now. In fact, there are more than a few priorities that needed tending to being that you were well past the limit of neglecting them. Honestly, you can't wait to be back at home with the heat cranked up. It's too damn frigid to be walking around leisurely on foot but you will never take the bus or train. Never.

Despite only living here for a few years, you still walk around the city like a tourist. It's much too easy to get lost in your opinion. And your sense of direction is already garbage.

Just passing a busy intersection you spot an older homeless man sitting near the edge with a sign. It isn't your first time seeing him there either and it likely wouldn't be the last.

Things like this easily tug at your heartstrings along with animal rescue commercials with the miserable looking cats and dogs. Homelessness and poverty would continue to be a growing problem in the city and it was sad that no one really wanted to do anything about it. It's not even talking about enough. No human being should be scrounging for scraps in a dumpster. People often forget that dirt-poor people are still people regardless of their situation.

From your own personal upbringing, you understood the struggles that many people go through and you have compassion. You don't know what it's like to live on the streets. For you it's unimaginable - not being able to have access to food, safely, and shelter. In fact, you compare it to hell. There's too many factors that play into it and it's a terrifying reminder that not everyone has access to certain services or has a roof over their heads.

Preconceived notions about the homeless often prevent people from providing aid. It's wrong to assume and not to mention illogical to blame someone for being in a specific predicament. Life happens, often out of control. Truly, it was nothing to buy the man something to eat and drink. You just consider it a small good deed for the day. You walk into the nearby store and purchase two wrapped turkey sandwiches and two bottles of water.

Once outside again, you hand the man the food and drink which he's all too happy to accept. "Thank you." The man uttered, offering a polite smile barely visible under his shaggy beard.

Kindness is basic human decency and it shows be afforded to everyone. Generous goes a long way especially in instances like this. He's grateful for your act of kindness and you're just relieved that he won't go hungry, at least not for a while. If nothing else, you sincerely hope that someone else is able to bless him with more items and food he needs to survive. You only hope he finds a way off the streets.

It dawned on you that you tend to act on instinct, sometimes driven by your emotions.

You continue on with an even stride until you reach the first of your destinations. The small coffee shop is located on the ground floor of a tall office building. Much like your own job. Low music playing from the shop's overhead speaker had you humming absently. You don't even like coffee but the Frappuccino's here are to die for.

She's not paying attention as she fills your order, accidentally giving you more than intended. Not that it was a problem on your end. Following her distracted gaze, your eyes drifted over to the table where Jen is serving a guy his cup of coffee, engaging in light conversation. By the looks of his suit, he might work in the office above them.

"He comes down every day on his break."

"She into him?" You ask.

"A hundred and ten percent but she always lies when I ask." Lisa explains excitedly.

With Lisa's warm, playful disposition, there's not an ounce of doubt that she can get the pair to marry within a couple of weeks. She was just a meddler like that. Playing the role of matchmaker comes natural to her.

"How was the girls trip?"

"I wouldn't call it a girls trip, more like a visit."

"Okay, spill tea."

"It was cool. We went out the first night and were mostly too hungover to do much for the next two days." Aptly, leaving the explanation at that. She doesn't need to know the nitty-gritty details. The cliff notes version works just fine.

"Sounds like fun! When's the next visit? I wanna go."

"Lisa I will never go back to that city...if they want to see me then they'll have come this way."

"What's wrong with the city?"

"What's not wrong with it?"

"Well at least you had a good time. That's all that matters." Lisa hands over your cup and you waste no time taking the first generous sip. Humming in pleasure once the taste hits your tongue. For a brief moment, all is right in the world.

"I guess." You lapsed into silence after the exchange, not really having anything else to say. Surely not wanting to give yourself away at any juncture.

The icy air filling your lungs is uncomfortable. Keeping in mind that you're doing this on your day off.

The pet shop is right around the corner. Miss Adkins, the owner of the shop, is literally one of the nicest people you've ever met and she's always happy to see you. Whenever you walk in you're mesmerized by the color scheme. It's here where you come to buy more fish flakes. The canister of fish food at home is only half gone but you'd rather get more now than risk running out. Despite the original goal, you still spent a lot of time looking at fish tank decor. The idea of adding to your small aquarium is exciting. There's so many items to choose from.

The aquarium in question is nothing more than a decently sized bowl but it still counted in your book.

She leads you to a generous selection of fish and there's so many unique breeds that you don't know which you'll choose. Once your money gets right, you might consider buying a whole new tank altogether. It's no secret that you have a knack for buying things you don't really need. In the end, you figure that Sammy might want a friend the same breed to keep him company. Through that, they'll stand a better chance at getting along with one another. By your logic, two tropical fish should make the best of friends.

"Can I get you anything specific?"

"Yeah, actually I'm looking for a new companion for Sammy." Geez, you spend more on your pet fish these days than yourself and you're oddly okay with it.

"I'll call you...sparkey." Admittedly, you're not the best at names. Sammy is pretty chill and you hope this fish is too.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The laundry is almost climbing the walls and you've put it off long enough. Especially since you're one of those people who finds it impossible to wash and fold laundry all in the same day. You're still struck by the notion that there will always be laundry because you will always have to wear clothes. The same goes for washing dishes.

The apartment gets pretty chaotic if you let it.

Your hair is done up in a bun to keep it from touching your charcoal mask. The timer on your phone has about ten minutes left until you have to wash it off. Although you're aware that face masks don't have the capacity to work wonders on your skin overnight, they're still pretty effective. Having healthy skin depends on how well it's taken care of. And you're used to trying everything, mud, honey, aloe. It doesn't exactly help that you're constantly on the hunt for new things.

Frankly, your skin care routine is just as important as your natural hair routine, neither of which are taken lightly. One thing you're never going to do is neglect your skincare routine. Different products work differently on everyone's faces, yours is no exception. Those lemon and peppermint masks used to burn the hell out of your face. It'll only be a matter of time before you're making your own facial masks.

By the time, you became a teenager, you were already making your own homemade hair care ingredients, back in the days before you'd established a routine. When you were just figuring out when to decide to wash your hair so it could line up with any plans. It's only natural that it is only carried over into skin care. Mostly using raw materials and plants. The idea has been on your mind for a few years now, even before you left college. Keeping in mind that you're still in the process of perfecting your craft. Starting your own hair care company would be right up your alley. Working for yourself has always been a dream of yours. As a black woman, hair plays a huge part in how we are viewed and treated. From childhood, black girls already have a deep attachment to their hair and it pains them when they can't even wear it how we'd like.

The products you make won't contain all the harmful chemicals and ingredients that most store bought products do. You've thought about advertising on social media but you don't have that much of a presence on there - you're not an influencer than has thousands of loyal followers. On the social platform you can gain true notoriety and supporters faster and really build your brand.

Becoming an entrepreneur is hard work but in the end it'll all be worth it. Marketing is important and you already have your target audience. Of course you don't expect success straight off, it'll take time to build your brand and gain clientele. Start as a small business and eventually work into becoming a highly profitable venture.

Bottom line - you deserve a bigger bank account. Talk about stating the obvious.

Life now is a little boring to say the least you think it's time for a change. It sucks to feel like you're not doing anything purposeful. Like you're not enough.

On your laptop, your boss has sent a few annoying, intrusive emails, wanting to know if you're fine and if there's anything he can do to help. You're tempted to tell him to jump off a cliff. Corporate jobs don't often extend decent courtesy to those whose skin is as dark as a paper bag as opposed to their white counterparts. The job you'd been contemplating quitting for months. You'd been wrestling with the thought for some time. If your manager gives you the eye one more time, you'd probably be fired instead quitting on your own volition. To each its own.

The workspace is not one you feel comfortable with. But you wouldn't survive in retail or fast food, pulling double or triple shifts just to make a suitable income. Redundant work just doesn't sit right with you. Honestly, you're getting sick of telling yourself that you're making money but you can make more and you're doing good but you can do better. It's been eating at you for the longest. In all, you just want a job that pays $7,000 an hour, nothing too major.

Aside from not seeing how it could help you progress further in life, it was boring and you hated having to wake up early in the morning to breath in the air there. There's nothing beneficial about working there and you figure that many of your coworkers can attest to it. The economy is going to shit these days and you don't see an end to it in sight. You just can't see the benefit of extending your labor to someone else. You're already using your sick days more loosely now after deciding that there's no need to squander them. In fact, everyone should take a personal day every once in a while.

You could never take people bragging on how they stack paper by putting in outrageous amounts of overtime at their exploitative job that works them to the bone. It's a wave you can't ride. Manual labor never sat right with you anyway. The cost of living is constantly rising, making it harder and harder for people to survive. Harder for people to use their measly pay checks to make ends meet. It's an issue every single day. One that becoming all too familiar

For you, it's a matter of just trying to navigate the unpredictability of life. Learning that you have to be more intentional in every aspect of your life. And it shouldn't have to wait until you're thirty. With an almost non-existent social life and what you considered to be a dead-end job, you need to go ahead and take the plunge. One door closes and plenty more open. A desperate life upgrade is needed. Many would say that life is ultimately what you make it. It's better to enjoy life for what it is instead of stressing about things you haven't gotten out of it.

Turning the tap on, you washed the face mask off and dab your wet skin with a towel, looking over your appearance in the mirror. No stress lines. That's a good thing. You picked up a nearby water pitcher and filled it with the intent to water the few indoor plants around the house and balcony. You never really thought of yourself as having a green thumb but having plants around really enhances the appearance of any home. And as someone who lives in a community where nature is hard to come by, you'd say the plants are needed. They're actually quite therapeutic and you wish you had your own personal garden. The jade and aloe plants you have are not just for decoration though.

Turns out Sparky is a good addition to the tank. When you first put the fish in, you had to pay close attention to how they interacted, afraid of them cannibalizing each other. If that were to happen, it would potentially devastate you. On the other hand, Sammy and his new tank mate seem to be getting along well. They don't do much besides swim around and eat but you take it as a good sign. No hint of aggression or hostility.

Come to think of it, you haven't had the chance to organize your wardrobe in months, mostly adding to it if nothing else but never taking the time to actually clean it. An overflowing closet is a big problem especially when you can't find a shoe or jacket while in a hurry to leave. It's a shame you're not using the overprized shoe racks from amazon that you bought merely on a whim. There's not even a valid excuse for you not to be using the hangers as well. The hassle of sorting through the clutter will probably take a while but you can't complain since you essentially brought it on yourself.

With the type of life you live, you need a well-organized, functional closet. If you let the entire apartment get out of whack then your life would be out of place as well. And you can't have that.

For all the shoes, pants, and shirts to be scattered all over the place is a travesty. You picked up a pair of heels you hadn't seen in months. Truthfully, a lot of these items could be donated to a goodwill seeing as you'll probably never wear them again. The 'nothing to wear' excuse really doesn't work well for you. You started putting your out of season clothing towards the back.

It's about an hour and an hour when you finally get some order in the closet. And you're tired as shit, overly drained. The relief that the closet is now in some kind of decent shape is a pleasant feeling.

A clean house will make anyone feel so much better. Plus doing this is better than laying in bed all day. Netflix isn't that much of a safe haven for you these days anyway. Checking items off your to-do list is more responsible, doing the things you were supposed to do before you left to visit your friends a week ago. Meanwhile those two were still letting off jokes about the store robbery in the group chat for days now. You didn't think it was funny but you forgot that life for them in Gotham is different.

Those nagging thoughts of him and your ordeal were pushed to the back of your mind. No good can come of him occupying your thoughts. If you're honest about it - a person in your position should be worried sick. Should be afraid of being exposed everyday. No one would be this calm if a guy that's next to a stranger has pictures and videos of them in their most private moments. Scared of having one of the biggest threats looming ominously over their existence like a terrible omen that was sure to resurface in the future. You will never allow anyone to hold anything over you. Especially when you did nothing wrong.

Technically speaking, there's not much you regret in life but you can honestly admit that you regret the encounter that led up to you being in contact with him. It will forever be a stain on your person that you'll never be able to wipe away. That bothers you immensely.

He's killed people, destroyed so many lives with reckless abandon. And in your particular instance, you witnessed him forcibly removing a man's teeth then ran when caught spying. Of all of the awful things he's done, you're sure he's careful not to leave any witnesses alive that have had a front row seat to his depravity. And yet. Here you breathe.

Deep down there's a shred of guilt taking root inside of you. Even if a madman had a specific target, there's no telling how many innocents got caught in the crossfire because of his murderous inclinations.

Any ties to him were served the minute you hopped on the plane to return to New York. At least here you can pretend that it never happened. That you were never slipped a drug and assaulted. You won't be linked to him. No one should ever know.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

It's dark outside when you awake. Strange since you didn't realize that you'd even fallen asleep. As tired as you were, sleep was sure to find you sooner or later and sometimes you just have to fall asleep at 5pm. It's quiet in the apartment, almost too quiet and that puts you at more unease.

A thud.

The sound has you listening more intently but not moving from your place in the bed. Most homes make unidentifiable noises on the regular but this is different. Every now and then the air conditioning will kick start with an audible pop and you usually can distinguish it from any other sound in the house. Ignoring strange house sounds is the logical thing to do considering that all the horror movies you'd watched encouraged it for survival reasons.

Another thud.

Okay, you can't ignore it this time. Your hackles are up and they're going haywire.

Without hesitation, you strang into action, rushing to retrieve the aluminum baseball from your closet. The bat is essentially the only home defense since you're not licensed to carry a gun. Moving as quietly as you can, you paused for a moment to listen again. Technically, you shouldn't leave your bedroom but you have to be sure that you are not imagining things. With every step you took, unease rose. Your heart is skipping way too many beats and it has you gripping the handle tighter.

The atmosphere is strangely charged. Something just isn't right. With that, you're on high alert, senses shifting into overdrive as you searched for the source of discontentment. You hope to god that you're not in the middle of a home invasion. Oh all the places to burglarize, why would someone choose your place. You live as modestly as you can in a modest apartment building. And if it is truly that, you're not exactly equipped to handle that in an oversized t-shirt and bonnet.

Soundlessly, you crept out of the room slowly. Just as you rounded the corner, a flash of movement swinging the bat before you even knew what was happening. Swinging the bat like you're at first base with a starting pitch. Adrenaline is crashing wildly in your system, almost too overwhelming to combat. To the point where you know it's serious when your survival instincts kick in.

The hall is empty. Then you're stepping into the space between the kitchen and living room. You're swinging for dear life, not even seeing what you're hitting, all you know is that the groans of pain is confirmation that someone is indeed in your house. Better them than you. You reserve the right to defend yourself in any setting, particularly within your own house.

You're able to incapacitate two men before a body tackles you to the floor. Shrills of pain shoot through your shoulder as it meets the hard floor with extreme force.

"Get off me!" You yell, fighting with all you have. Breaking some of your good vases over his head that were in reach. Suddenly, you're able to get the upper hand by keeping a grip on his collar and unleashing a flurry of punches. A well aimed fist hit him square in the nose with an audible crunch and the man who you now recognized as 'Frost', pushed away from you to tend to the injury with a pained shout.

As you scrambled away, a series of handclaps caught your attention. "I must say...that was quite a show."

There, on your couch sat The Joker. The tattoos, the sleek green hair, the shining metal teeth. His shirtless, only wearing a purple jacket over his chest. He's obviously happy to see you again which isn't good for you. You don't share the same sentiment. His very name struck fear into the souls of those who'd heard of him. He's over worldly. Just the sight of him is terror-inducing.

At this your heart started to race. The problem is that you can't summon any words to speak, to convey what you're feeling. So you just stare at him blankly.

He just stares at you for long moments, accessing the look on your face.

If you'd known that he planned to make an uninvited visit to your residence, the swat team would be kicking down the door and bursting through windows by now. What kind of impression did you make on this criminal kingpin to have him and his goons breaking into your house? Just how the fuck did they get into your apartment anyway is the real question.

The other assailants had to pull their partners up off the floor and you nearly smiled in satisfaction. As a matter of fact, you're still not over them manhandling you not so long ago. You only gained temporary satisfaction from beating the shit out of his minions.

Suddenly, you're hauled before him like an animal, thrown down between his open legs like you're not deserving of respect.

Both of you are as different as night and day. Living different lives by different principles. Truthfully, you had no business crossing paths. Strangely, you can't help but feel like it's just the start of your problems with him. Attracting a nut of a man had to be one of the worst things to happen to you. It's like he's actively trying to make your life hell. And there was no way in hell you'd make it easy for him.

How had you been fooling yourself into thinking that he wouldn't resurface somehow? Being used and abused and in your own house.

"How did you find me?"

"Oh I have a few connections here and there." His tone is playful and jovial but it wasn't fooling you for a second. It should come as no shock that he had had his people following and keeping tabs on you. "What's wrong gorgeous gal? Aren't you happy to see me? You look a little nervous."

"Never that." You scoff.

"Never huh?" He chuckled darkly. "I like that."

You narrowed your eyes. The sheer complexity of him. A man like him lives to spread nothing but terror.

"You've been busy running around a lot, little miss. I didn't know you were so busy."

"You're stalking me now?"

"Stalking?" He looked offended. "Nooo, I thought we were playing a riveting game of hide and seek. Only I already won."

"Although...I believe an apology is in order."

Your brows furrowed together. "What?"

What the fuck is he getting at? Whatever the case, you don't have time for his shit.

"Yes! An apology for running off without my permission like the naughty little girl you are!"

What he wanted had absolutely no bearing on you whatsoever. "You're insane."

He strolls confidently across the living room, picking up a picture of your family. "Such a beautiful little family. You look just like your mother."

"You don't scare me. I don't belong to anyone and it's gonna stay that way." You assert.

He places the picture back in its original place, turning to face you with a sinister grin. "Are you so sure?"

"Positive." If given the chance you planned to pummel to death with your fists next.

"So hostile...would you like another pill?" The cruel taunt didn't go unnoticed by you.

"You're a sick fuck." You spat.

His red lips fixed into a straight line, blue orbs dead and piercing. "I like to think of myself as more of a concept."

"That's such bullshit."

The crime boss clicks his tongue, moving to tower over you. He smelled good...the bastard. Who would've thought. "That's not very nice. You've gotten worse since we last met. I don't like it. Fix it." He growls. "I might have to train you."

The men behind you released sounds of surprise and some even snickered. Talking back to The Joker is a fatal endeavor that many people didn't ever get the chance to carry out.

A reckless mouth can get you into all sorts of trouble. You are a firm believer of that. And right now, it might not get you anywhere but in more trouble.

First off, you don't like the way he talks to you. His tone is abrasive and demanding. It's like he's trying to scare you into doing exactly what he wanted. It's not going down like that. Regardless of what he thought, you are not a helpless victim. Not a doormat he could impose his will unto. Then wait expectantly for you to do as he instructs - you find it impossible. With your pride and dignity is on the line and you refuse to give them up to anyone.

"What a naughty little girl you are. I'm disappointed in you sweet pea. I thought we had something special." He feigned hurt, placing his hand over his heart as if the organ really worked and he didn't have ice running through his veins.

Not once had you expected him to show up at your place of residence, sitting on your couch like he owns the place. They were here to cause mayhem.

And not being able to gage the twisted thoughts behind that painted face bothers you immensely.

Your bottom lip curls into an angry sneer. "You've got some nerve." Did he think you were some kind of dog that needed to be trained? A disobedient bitch that had to heed to his demands? Keeping your sanity is the main priority. Calming your breathing has never been so hard than it was at the moment. Maybe you're not thinking straight because you're still tired.

A shudder rippled through your body at that moment. Subtle intimidation seemed to cling to the clown in whatever space he occupied. Your house was no different. This can escalate quickly. You're watching this play out like a thriller movie you can't look away from. Given the circumstances, you should be shaking like a leaf but you wouldn't let him know that inspired those kinds of feelings in you. You can never freely admit it even under the harshest circumstances. It would be the worst mistake besides meeting him.

He gives you a devilish smirk, all of his teeth are on display. And you have a feeling he's more amused than angry. "Lucky for you...I'm a gentleman. I'm going to give you one more chance." He's toying with you.

A heaviness surrounds the rooms, tension at an all time high thanks to its occupants. He's a raging storm ready to tear everything apart around him. He's enraged, angry because you left. Then he does something that both surprises and confuses you - pulls himself from his pants. "Do you miss this? It sure missed you."

The sight of it horrifies you and you know what his intentions are. You glare at him, willing fire to shoot from your eyes and set him alight.

You scoffed, not at all impressed by the theatrics. "And I'm not doing so where do we go from here?"

"Fine...I'm sorry." You remark with gritted teeth.

"Oh it's much too late for that. This will be your apology."

You searched his face for the slightest hint of mercy - there was none. It simply wasn't there.

Dread fills you with each passing second but you won't bend to his desire.

You looked up to see him staring down at you with a smug expression and your brain can't even compute what's happening. You feel helpless, completely and utterly helpless in this situation. It was out of your control and had been out of your control from day one. Despite how you wanted to forget it ever happening, you know what sort of sensations his manhood could induce. But this isn't what you want to happen - to be forced to service him in view of his henchmen.

It's degrading and not to mention immoral. You can't go through with this - couldn't give him what he wanted.

You shook your head in denial. "No. I can't do that."

The clown prince of crime is soon breaking into random fits of maniacal laughter. Then the pale faced gangster's expression shifts into something darker. More terrifying.

He stills, expression hard and set. His eyes reflected the underline of outrage that you expected him to have after you'd blocked his number from contacting you and fled Gotham altogether.

By all accounts. You're a normal, law abiding citizen. You pay your taxes, never been in trouble with the law. And yet, you're now involved with a psychotic crime lord. What are the odds?

He lives by a completely different set of rules where he could do whatever he wanted and no one could stop him. Hard to think that an accidental encounter has caused all of this to go down like it has. Something like this could only happen to you.

He absently pulls his customized purple gun from its holster, waving it around like it's a toy and not a weapon that can easily end a person's life in the blink of an eye. To him it might just be that. A toy.

Lips settled into the barest hint of a smirk. "You and your filthy little mouth...I can see it's gonna be a problem already. But don't worry, I'm good at fixing those."

God, he's too sick in the head. Stuck in his own world of madness and chaos to see the logic in anything. You're caught in the sights of an unstable man.

Savagely smashing his lips onto yours. You instinctive kept your jaw clamped shut to prevent his probing, invasive tongue from fully entering your mouth.

Pushing you unto your knees in front of him like a subjugated slave. With his free hand the man worked at his pants. The color seemed to drain from your face at the suggestion and your stomach dropped down to your feet. Once your eye caught sight of the erect shaft, you nearly recoiled in disgust. Though you find that you're more enraged than frightened.

Mister J snatched up a fist full of curly hair, retching your head back painfully. A yelp escapes your lips before you can stop it. The roots of your scalp burns. With the force he's exerting, he might actually rip a giant chunk of hair out. Then you'd really have to make an attempt of his life.

"Let go!" You shouted, pulling at his wrist in an effort to get him to release his grip.

"Uh uh uh...you've been bad. Bad girls need to be punished." He purred.

He started stroking it right in front of your shocked face, flashing his signature smile. Of course, you both knew what he expected right then. But only one of you didn't want it to take place. Giving into his dark demands is not something you want. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't pull away from his tight grasp.

His manhood is now centimeters from your mouth as he held your head firmly in place, grip not loosening even the slightest bit. Stretching out your now inflamed esophagus.

"You know what...I'll make it easier for you. Let's start out with something easy. How about this?"

He picks up the gun from off the couch and held it up to your view. At this your whole body when still, eyes widening. You feel anger building, thick blocks of ire that would soon give rise to violent retaliation.

"Come on open up." He insisted, teeth gleaming in the light. "I don't like repeating myself pretty."

He snarled in anger. "Open your fucking mouth."

The barrel of the gun is thick and long but it slides in just as effortlessly enough to have your chest tightening in one painful motion.

"There we go…"

While he's assaulting your mouth with the gun, it's a wonder how you're able to stay calm outwardly, seeing as your brain is in panic mode.

"See...I knew that mouth could be used for better things." He laughs gleefully as he stares down at you. The gun tastes like metal. It's piquant and peculiar against your tongue. It's here that you truly realize your situation - forced on your knees with a gun in your mouth. Suffer from humiliation of the worst kind. Being defiled. In possibly one of the lowest points in your life.

With a swiftness that should've phased you, Joker yanks out the gun and shoves his member inside to take its place. Even worse still, you barely even notice.

You refused to suck, not that it bothered him anyway when he was forcing himself into your mouth like this, shoving himself down your throat. It's too damn difficult to try and pull in breaths, oxygen seeming just beyond your reach. Soon tears were stinging your eyes, saliva dripping from either side of your chin. The thick length is choking you, parting your throat painfully. It's getting harder and harder to ignore the rising panic, hands frantically trying to find purchase against the assault. Not caring that he was asphyxiating you.

How long would he prolong the torture? Minutes? Hours? There was no real way to tell.

Worse of all, some of his men stood within the room, smirking and snickering as their boss committed a horrible atrocity against you. Possibly like he's done to many others. The experience is unlike anything you've ever endured.

His perversion on full display for them. And they're lapping it up like giggling hyenas. The people he employs are nothing more than props used to carry out his will.

The temptation to bite down is strong though you're sure that if he loses the appendage then you lose your life. Your lips are burning, stretching to accommodate the intrusion, and your gag reflex is acting up, heaving and doing its best to expel the invading shaft from being shoved down your orifice once more. At this rate, you might even vomit. Although, this is just as worse as choking on said vomit and dying. At the damage he's dealing, your pharynx would be raw come morning, that is, if you survived. The man is thrusting to wildly, and violent, with no concern for you whatsoever. It isn't for you. This is only for him.

Through all of it, you're realizing that you hate him. You hate him with everything in you. For him to violate you not once but twice just showed that he was a monster of the worst kind. He would even go so far as to threaten you with a gun. The man is a demon.

"So pretty…" He says, cold hands making you flinch as he erratically runs them all over your shivering body. You gasp out, completely out of breath and unable to do anything but accept the horrible ministrations he's inflicting on your body.

He's thoroughly pleased with himself and what he's done like the sadistic freak he was. In a split second, he pulls you up, crashing his lips onto yours, this time breaching his tongue into your gaping mouth. You don't even have the strength to resist. There's not a single area that his tongue didn't touch. Heavily mixing his saliva with yours. At one point, he took to sucking on your tongue.

"From now on, if I call...you fucking answer. Do I make myself clear?" He puts the gun between your legs as a threat. "I don't wanna have to give you another lesson."

"You be good now gorgeous gal. I'll be watching you." And he meant it. Then he takes his leave, leaving you laying on the floor of the living room like a used toy he no longer wanted to play with.

Chapter Text

In the immediate aftermath, you're left sprawled on the floor in shock, barely able to process everything that had just taken place. Some time had elapsed since him and his men had left but you weren't able to discern it in your frame of mind. The water filtration system from Sammy's fish tank is the only sound you can comprehend. Your emotions were everywhere and nowhere.

Your lips are swollen and numb, throat considerably sore on account of him shoving his disgusting erection down your throat. Your lips have been stretched and are tender to the touch because a certain clown-faced asshole forced the barrel of his gun into your mouth for no other reason but to amuse himself. It's left you feeling absolutely violated. The pain in your mouth was nothing compared to the humiliation and ire coursing dangerously through your veins.

The apartment complex where you lived had little to no security, so it was probably very easy for them to get in. Though you probably think security wouldn't have made much of a difference.

He'd already picked up a picture of your family, possibly memorizing their faces. It's very likely that he intended to use them to further terrorize you. Threatening their existence is going to damn far. Luckily, any fear you feel is trampled by anger and determination.

You never wished death on anyone but you wanted him to die. Drop dead on the spot - in that hideous purple bedazzled jacket he wore.

While it's obvious that he's mentally deranged, that doesn't give him clearance to do the depraved things he's done to you. He was only capable of committing acts of cruelty and that makes twice he's assaulted you without consequence. Frankly, you can't let a mentally-disturbed, clown-faced freak degrade you like that. Something had to be done.

With a newfound resolve, you pulled yourself up from the floor, nearly wobbling with the effort. Though you can admit that it took you entirely too long to do so. You hurriedly ran to your bedroom, snatched up your phone with the intent to unblock the only number on the block list and dial. Honestly, you don't know what you would gain from doing so, so it can be considered a spur of the moment type of thing.

"Helloooo." His annoying voice comes through the phone. "Miss me so soon? I've barely gotten into the car."

"You son of a bitch…" You growled, ignoring how it hurts to move your jaw in certain ways. The pain is made worse by you unintentionally grinding your teeth.

Oh such vulgar language coming from such a filthy mouth."

"You had no right to do what you did!"

He clicked his teeth. "You sound upset kitten, do you want daddy to come back and make you feel better?"

"Fuck you."

He broke into a random bout of maniacal laughter on the other end of the phone. An act that had your blood boiling six degrees hotter. It enrages you that he's undoubtedly over the moon about what he's done. You can practically see the smile full of metal teeth in your mind's eye.

"We already played that game, remember? I won."

Those words only remind you that he's a depraved monster in human skin. You can't even conceptualize what goes on in his warped mind.

"You won't get away with this."

Your subtle threat seemed to only fuel his dark amusement. The man's taunting words unsurprisingly don't indicate any kind of remorse. "Oh contraire my little kitten…I think I just might."

At that sweetly spoken declaration, you promptly hung the phone up and threw it to the floor. Not caring if it broke. It's made clear that this has become a situation out of your control. Even minutes after the ordeal has happened you're still in a state of disbelief and shock. The nerve of him to do what he did and discard you like a piece of trash.

Both hands clenched into fists. He would not get away with this - you would make sure of it.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

It took little to no prompting at all for you to rush down to the police precinct. This counts as your first time actually going to a police station. The idea of doing so beforehand for any other reason seemed so foreign before. Seeking out law enforcement is typically the most logical course of action after an event like this.

In accordance with his normal functioning, the employees within the station are up and on the move. You walked by the small kiosks near the front entrance, straight towards the front desk where a woman sat, her hair pulled into a neat bun.

The woman's eyes widened slightly when she saw you coming. It also didn't escape your notice that she'd scrunched up her face but quickly tried to conceal it behind a smile. Obviously, she had some preconceived notion about you that you weren't privy too.

"What can I help you with?" She asks in a professional tone of voice. You weren't able to make out her name on the tag pinned to her uniform.

"I'd like to report a serious crime."

"May I know what this serious crime is regarding?"

"Honestly, I'd feel more comfortable speaking with a higher up, like an officer or a detective, it doesn't matter." You stated matter of factly.

The woman's lips stretched into a thin line. Obviously that wasn't what she wanted to hear. She merely blinked in response before flashing that same smile once again. The smile was being forced at most.

"Sorry. I'm afraid that all of our personnel are preoccupied at the moment. Perhaps you can come back tomorrow."

Your brows knitted together. "I'm not on that type of time."

"If the matter is that urgent, you can leave a message if you'd like."

The woman was being needlessly condescending towards you. She was probably used to using the very same smile to disguise her nastiness - the smile that effectively hid the maliciousness of her character. A hint of haughtiness could also be detected. You don't have time for it.

Without waiting, you walked past the desk in search of adequate assistance, seeing as you wouldn't be getting any in your current position.

"Miss! Miss...excuse me! You can't do that!" The woman called out to you.

You didn't even turn to look back at her, your eyes were too busy scanning for someone - anyone who would listen.

That someone came in the form of a uniformed officer who just so happened to be walking past. "Can I help you?"

Sighing in relief that he hadn't turned you away, you were all too happy to acknowledge him. "Yes please. I want to report a crime but the woman at the front desk won't let me."

The unnamed man nodded in response before turning his attention to the blond woman who'd gotten up to follow you. "I can take it from here."

The woman's nose wrinkled. But she offered no response, instead simply regarding you for another moment before returning to her post.

You shot her a look as you moved to follow the officer.

Bitch.

The man started to lead you down a long hall with various rooms. "You'll have to forgive Martha. She can be a bit...much at times." He spoke offhandedly.

The officer leads you to a secure interview room that looks like it was used for interrogations. "Wait here. A detective will be in to see you shortly."

The lightning within the room was dim, almost to the point of it becoming a vision issue. Not only that but it was cold and empty besides a wide table and two chairs on either end. The chill had you rubbing your palms together anxiously. As time dwindled by, you'd taken to fiddling with a small string attached to the end of the sweater. After you grew bored of that, you started to inspect a scratch on the edge of the table.

Already, it was a very arduous process. The clock on the wall ticked by loudly and it seemed like you were waiting for hours for someone to arrive.

You were considering taking a nap before the door finally opened to admit two men. One looks like a lead detective while the other is a plain clothes officer. The detective was an older man, possibly in his mid to late forties with what you call a stereotypical mustache for a cop. While the officer accompanying him looked much younger. He couldn't have been on the force for no more than five years. The officer doesn't have an established look about him yet.

"I'm Detective Walker." He sits a bottle of water down on the table in front of you. "And this is Officer Miller. I was told you wanted to report a crime."

"Yes."

He clasped his hands together on the table surface. "Alright. A crime against who?"

"Myself."

The detective's brows lifted a fraction before lowering back in place. As if he was surprised that you showed little to no hesitation or anxiety after the ordeal. Frankly, you're not as stressed as you suppose you should be given the circumstances.

You waited patiently as the man seated himself comfortably in the chair across from you, rolling his shoulders back. "First, can you explain what happened?"

A tenseness made itself known in your shoulders and you hugged your arms tighter around yourself. You made a note to explain everything in great detail without leaving a single part out. Even the most humiliating parts.

"Do you know the name of the man who perpetrated the attack on you?"

You took in a deep breath. "They call him Mister. J or "The Joker."

The man's eyes snapped to yours in a heartbeat, serious blue eyes studying you. The immediate reaction struck a cord with you.

The detective straightened in his chair. "Are you certain?"

You didn't hesitate to answer, "Absolutely."

The detective looked highly skeptical but said nothing. Out of the blue, you get the sense that something's wrong, that he knows something he's not telling you. He was acting as if he didn't quite believe you. Loud intrusive thoughts are bombarding your mind at an alarming frequency. You're growing incredibly frustrated.

"Okay. Since you've provided us with a suspect, we can start to look into it."

He motioned to the officer standing behind him near the back wall, to which the latter leaned down. The one had a quiet exchange of words that didn't reach your hearing. After about ten seconds, the officer nods and moves to leave the room altogether, shutting the door behind him quietly.

You're entirely too curious as to what they're going to do and how they're going to go about handling your case.

"Let me make sure I understand you. You're saying he was here? In New York?" He continued.

"That's exactly what I'm saying!"

"Why are you acting like you don't believe me? I'm telling you that he's directly responsible."

He frowned, staring at you with the utmost solemnity. "I'm just being thorough. You're making a serious allegation against-" He explained, cocking his head forward.

"I'm accusing anyone! I'm flat out telling you it was him. He and his gang broke into my apartment and assaulted me." You stated resolutely before he could finish the sentence.

You don't like this, his entire disposition seemed to have shifted.

"Shouldn't you be taking a swab of my mouth or something? You're wasting time. He's gonna get away!"

As you're pleading your case, the younger officer returns with an open laptop.

"Sir, we were able to obtain a copy of the security tapes from the apartment building."

"And?"

The officer swallowed. "You might want to take a look at this."

Detective Walker and his fellow officer looked as though they'd seen a ghost, their faces gone pale.

The detective didn't say another word, only nodding with a degree of finality. "We've been able to obtain video evidence of the attacker at the scene."

"See I told you!" You confidently assured.

"But…"

The excitement you felt started to dwindle. "But what?" You whispered.

"Given the circumstances, we won't be able to take action."

You can't explain what you felt in the moment, only it was something akin to being pushed off a cliff. They'd managed to place him at the acne with video evidence, what other proof did they need?

They just didn't want to get involved.

You're able to recognize it right away - the look of pure dread written on their faces. Suddenly, they don't seem as eager to help. At first, you thought you might be over exaggerating but the feeling is dismissed when Detective Walker anxiously pinched the skin between his nose and shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

Raising your head a fraction, you let the question slip from your mouth before you actually gave it any thought. "You know who he is don't you?"

"Who doesn't know who he is?"

Their reaction basically lets you know that they're absolutely fucking terrified of The Joker. Clearly, they know full well who the man is. They're aware that he's a violent psychopath known to bring destruction and carnage wherever he goes. Has humanity lost its fucking mind?

How can an entire police department be afraid of him? It's an insane concept.

It was at this point in time, you realized that you failed to take into account the extent of The Joker's influence.

Folding your arms, you poised the most important question. "Are you going to go get him?"

"We can't...right now." He sounded unsure. In fact, his whole demeanor seems to have flipped on a dime.

His choice of words had you jumping to your feet. "Why not?"

"It's out of our jurisdiction." He tried to rationalize, leaning far back into his chair as he did so.

"I want to speak with your superior. Whoever's in charge over you."

The anger in your chest threatened to burn you alive at that moment. It's the subtle gaslighting and manipulation that you can't take.

"Won't do any good. Can't offer you any assistance."

"Can't or won't?"

In the back of your mind, you knew that they were not incompetent, as a matter of fact, you though they were very competent...when they actually wanted to help.

He hesitates. "There are certain 'things' we have to take into account-"

"Like what?!" You didn't understand what he was getting at. What was he trying to imply? That excuse in itself was already sketchy from the jump. "Look at my lips! Look at my face! If you don't want to help me then just fucking say that!"

"Ma'am please calm down."

"No. It's obvious that you aren't taking me seriously.

"I need to ask you a few more questions."

You stared at him with narrowed eyes but deflated upon realizing that you'd have to try and retain some hope. Maybe he can rectify the damage already done at this juncture.

"Are you in any way affiliated with the local prostitution scene?" The man's tone is slightly accusatory.

There was a lengthy pause between him asking and you taking the time to process what he'd said.

The line of questioning is very telling. And a heavy pressure makes itself known in your chest. "Excuse me?"

He appeared somewhat embarrassed to even pose the query in the matter he did. Like he knew the truth well before he even asked you. "I just need to know."

He was out of line - way out of line. "That's irrelevant. And if I were...it doesn't make what happened okay."

"I wasn't implying-"

"Oh I bet you weren't." You interrupted again.

He held up his hands in a non-threatening manner. "I'm just trying to gain some clarity."

"I know what you're doing." You whispered.

The air surrounding the space is tense and charged with hostile energy. You're angry. Angry because there was no reason for you to be on the defensive from the police.

Suggesting you might be a prostitute is just another way of perpetuating rape culture and displaying sexism. Not that you're all that surprised, the New York Police Department's conduct over the years could be called into question regarding their handling of similar subject matter. Apparently, they've been known to show implicit bias.

Soon you're back clenching your teeth so hard you think they might break. "You swore an oath."

"Listen, we're doing our job as best we can."

It took everything in you not to snort at the words. "Are you?" You questioned. "Your job is to help me and so far you're not. All you've done is give me the run around and even I know that isn't proper police procedure."

Of course, he couldn't flat out say why the Police Department wasn't able to help. That would be too on the nose. You really don't appreciate them choosing to turn a blind eye to the torment you've just endured. It's almost as if he's trying to downplay your account of what happened. The video tape should've been all they needed to at least make a move.

Is the man just allowed to wreak havoc anywhere he wants because of the fear he inspires in people? It would appear so. Only it's not right. No one, not even him should be above the law.

"I would suggest getting you some protection. As a woman, you can never be too safe."

His words aggravate you even further and you almost couldn't believe what you were hearing. They weren't going to help you, you just know it. They wouldn't even try, that's the most devastating part of all. His words have practically confirmed that. Truthfully, you didn't have that much faith in the cops to begin with but it just hit a new all time low. A low they can't come back from.

Tragically, this is what happens. The police refuse to take cases like yours seriously, especially when there's a well-known, powerful figure involved. He's more willing to weave together a narrative rather than actually help you put the assailant behind bars. You don't much care what they say, there wasn't a valid reason for them not to help you.

Any effort that you might've summoned up to argue with him further was extinguished when you saw how the man's jaw was set , meaning he'd already made up his decision and he was going to stick to it. No amount of pleading would get through to him so there wasn't any reason to try.

Bowing your head, you covered your eyes with a hand. You could've laughed bitterly. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything you could do to quell the disappointment you felt.

So much for the justice system.

The uniforms, the badges, it's all about cultivating an image. That's all it's ever been. Nothing more, nothing less. It's starting to set in that you shouldn't have come in the first place. Having to begrudgingly accept that was the hardest pill to swallow. Probably worst of all, you don't have the time and resources to file a lawsuit.

Him telling you to seek out your own means of protection was him basically admitting that the police department couldn't offer you any assistance. The realization is shattering.

Their failure to help would be a systematic one. It's hard to believe that these are the individuals in the city that everyone is supposed to call on when they need help - the ones who are supposed to protect and serve. It's a shame that they're willing to let their fear keep them from doing what's right. How useless could they be at a time like this?

"I came here because I thought I would get help. But now I see that I won't be getting anything, so I'll take my leave." You specified as you stood up from the chair, having every intention to walk out of the room.

In all genuine honesty, as if it didn't seem all that clear before, you're grappling with the idea that you might have to take matters into your own hands.

Chapter Text

Following the less than fruitful visit to the police station you returned home even angrier than you'd left it. You went in fully expecting that criminal charges would be filed against your perpetrator and his men.

At the beginning, they seemed willing to provide you with the proper assistance for your situation. You were heavily considering filing a complaint on the department as a whole but you doubted that it would actually get anywhere. It would only end up being a massive waste of your time. And even if the complaint did get pushed through, there was still the issue of it being dealt with in a timely manner.

You remember how the men's eyes widened in fear at the mere mention of his name - how quickly their whole demeanor changed.

You easily recalled the man's rattled words. "Who doesn't know who he is?"

Just that one statement spoke volumes about his influence even in a whole other state.

Their behavior transmitted a clear message that conveyed a fair amount to you. They deliberately chose not to act in accordance with your rights. And you had a constitutional right to receive help after being violently assaulted. Truthfully, you had no say in whether the case will be prosecuted or not.

How could they just outright refuse to investigate the crime you reported? A crime that took place in their own city, the city they were charged with protecting. That automatically made it within their jurisdiction. It wasn't a part of any policy you'd ever heard of. It wasn't like you just voiced your grievances with a random officer who was limited in his capabilities. You spoke with actual detectives.

You couldn't simply blame it on their lack of evidence concerning the crime committed against you. There's literal video evidence of the man arriving and leaving your apartment complex. Frankly, you don't think they took an actual record of it. Through it all, you're just having a hard time understanding how they can decline to help you like that. You're sure that their actions were a form of police misconduct.

But the fact of the matter remains that you can't trust the police with the safety of your well-being. Hell, at this point you're not sure if you can trust anyone but yourself with that crucial duty. Honestly, you should've known. Even in the gravest of situations, the cops are never on your side and you've just been reminded of that fact.

You're pissed, enraged that The Joker and his gang can literally break into your house and assault you with no consequences. But what can you do against a vicious crime lord that runs an empire?

Based on their words and conduct, they had no true desire to pursue your case because of who it involved. If you can't get the support of the policy in your own city how could you expect to receive it in another place?

As of now, you've exhausted all of your personal choices and options. If the matter was going to be settled, then you'd just have to take it into your own hands. The second you made it home, you opened your laptop and went to work. For hours, you scrolled through webpage after webpage to no avail. You sought out everything, most of which was legal advice. With your search, you hadn't really come up with anything useful. This didn't deter you, in fact, the lack of real solutions fueled you to continue searching.

So far all you've learned was that you can't sue the department for not protecting or aiding you.

Are you disappointed about it? Yes. Are you stressed about it? Absolutely. But the anger still outweighed everything else. The corners of your mouth still ached vexingly and you seethed inwardly every time you recalled the reason why. Even in the mere hours after he left, the weight of his chaotic aura still lingered heavily within your apartment.

There had to be a way to rid you of a dangerous madman and you weren't going to stop until you found it. Of all the things he's gotten away with, you refused to let your situation be among the rest.

According to what you read, it would mean nothing for him to hurt someone and he didn't need much of a valid reason to. Being a complete monster seems to be ingrained into his very being. In his own twisted words, he may very well be stalking your every move and it's not exactly something you could put past him. Not only that but the man had indicated that he had no intention of leaving you alone anytime soon.

Evidently, Gotham City was notoriously known for its corruption, therefore you don't have to seek out the authorities there to know that you won't be receiving any assistance on that end. Apparently, the city doesn't even have a qualified police force and it's worse than you thought. That meant the man had been allowed to run rampant for years without the threat of someone stopping him. He did whatever he wanted - went wherever he pleased.

From what information you managed to gather on him, you've discovered that he's had a major hand in nearly all the kinds of criminal activities throughout Gotham city and even some other places. He's the very embodiment of a sick man and sick men tend to operate like such. He had not no regard for human life and remains a ruthless sadist down to his core.

However, you did discover that there existed one individual that seemed to want his head on a stick even more than you did. They called him, "Batman." Apparently, he was some kind of nighttime vigilante and he and your attacker had a long-standing feud. Sadly, you had no way of getting in touch with the mysterious, caped crusader that stalked Gotham and inform him of your plight. A criminal clown and elusive character that dressed like a bat, compared to other places Gotham city was certainly weird in more ways than one.

It was hours before you finally closed the laptop and allowed yourself to take a moment to truly think. Reluctantly, you picked up the floor from the floor, mildly surprised to find it still intact and not shattered to pieces from your throw.

At this juncture, you're just going to have to do what the detective implied - seek out your own means of protection. The mere idea seemed like a desperate one but it required a steadfast resolve. And at the present, your resolve had never been more firm.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

You hardly slept through the night, you might've gotten maybe five hours of sleep but it felt like you only slept for about thirty minutes.

Most devastating of all, you didn't like the effect the man was having on your psyche. Never in your life had anyone had you scared to leave your home or look over your shoulder perpetually. Everytime you hear a random noise, it puts you on edge. It wasn't you - this paranoid, fearful person. Worse still, you don't know if there's a way to shut off the unpleasant feelings, at least not to your knowledge. You were having a hard time concentrating on certain tasks and you always found your mind wandering at the worst of times.

You watched your phone anxiously despite initially calling yourself ignoring its existence. Every time it dinged or rung, you're placed further on the edge. You had no desire to have that mocking voice or that shrill laugh in your ear once more.

Though you refused to admit it, with the thought of possibly being watched in mind, you had essentially shut yourself in your apartment. You didn't even entertain the thought of going out. For days, you stewed in your wrath, holding unto that anger for long extended amounts of time. It's extremely unhealthy, detrimental and terribly exhausting but you couldn't seem to let go. The mere thought of him was enough to have you burning hotter than the fires of hell. Even your boss had expressed concern for you using all your vacation days for the year in one setting.

He was the main source of your emotional stress. It was as if he was controlling you even though he wasn't present. As far as you were concerned, no one had any right to exercise control over any aspect of your life besides you. He couldn't turn you into a victim, you refused to give him the satisfaction.

You kept at it until sudden accumulation of trash building in your apartment because too much of a nuisance to ignore. Since when did taking out the trash and discarding it into the huge dumpster outside the building become such a chore? You think the anxiety mostly stemmed from you not wanting to go outside.

Once you dumped the trash, you took the elevator and rode up in silence. The usual elevator music didn't play for some reason. The doors opened and you started the normal trek down the corridor. In the stride, you notice your neighbor talking with a man, who upon seeing you coming decides to take his leave. You get a feeling a 'transaction' had just taken place between the men. You'd figured out what the guy did a longtime ago. After thinking about it for days, you found out that you can't legally obtain a gun license for a number of months. What difference would it make for you to buy one from your shady neighbors?

In hindsight, you never do anything without weighing the consequences of your actions beforehand. You have no clue if what you're doing was within the bounds of the law and truthfully you don't care all that much. The law itself wouldn't protect you.

As far as you know, it was impossible to legally obtain a gun permit in a timely manner that benefited you. That made it a huge issue since you considered yourself to be in a timed critical situation. You didn't know when the man would return especially after there was no indication of his first unexpected visit to your place of residence. He knew where you lived and he knew where your friends lived. What else did he know about you?

The man briefly made eye contact with you before offering a smile and beginning to retreat back into his apartment.

Summoning up all your courage, you inhaled a deep breath before approaching.

"Excuse me…I'd like to make a…purchase with you." You nervously uttered.

Well that didn't sound suspicious at all.

With one hand still on the door frame, he appeared startled by the admission, eyebrows nearly rising to his hairline.

Straight away, he was scrutinizing you. "You with the cops?"

"No."

"Sounds like something a cop would say. How do I know you're legit?" He questioned.

"I know that you've been selling things out of your apartment since you've lived here, which is coming up on a about a year now. If I wanted to snitch you out, I could've done it a long time ago." You reasoned.

He silently contemplated your bold words, presumably taking them with a grain of salt. If he was a good dealer then it made sense. As it turns out, he just might be a good judge of character seeing how his eyes softened and that smile returned.

He leaned against the door frame, taking out a cigarette with the intention of lighting it. Smoke bellowed along the space between the two of you. "You know…I didn't take you for someone that does drugs."

"I don't!"

Despite never actually meeting him, you would've never thought his personality was so eccentric. Although you suppose that all drug and weapons dealers can't all be serious.

Even seeing him in passing, you never entertained the thought of stopping to chat with him as you doubted that there was any kind of small talk to be made with him. What could you two possibly have in common?

He's tall and leaner than you remember him being. With a mop of messy blonde hair atop his head that looked as if he didn't comb it when he left the bed. There were heavy bags under his eyes and he wore a thin bathrobe that exposed a portion of his chest. Also his stubble looked like it hadn't been shaved or groomed in weeks.

He pushed off the frame and allowed you space to enter the apartment. You hesitated for only a second before obliging him. He closed the door behind you.

Once inside, you drew in a sharp breath. The guy's place gave the word 'unkempt' a new meaning. The place was almost bare except for a few pieces of furniture that indicated that someone was definitely living in the space. And it smelled like stale sweat and something else.

Not only that but the place just had a scrubby appearance, much like it's occupant. Every surface looked like it contained a thick layer of dust mixed with grime. The guy probably never even used a broom in his life. Honestly, this place should be quarantined off from the rest of the apartments. In retrospect, you probably should've worn a mask just to enter, lest you catch some airborne disease or inhale an unknown substance.

As a person who valued cleanliness and order, you were appalled at the man's living conditions. Then again, what would you expect from a sleazy drugs and arms dealer?

He rolled his shoulders. "Sorry, I didn't have time to clean up the place. I didn't know I would have an unexpected guest over."

"Do you run a meth lab here?" You questioned, side eyeing him.

"Hold on. I don't deal in meth." He corrected what you assume was a strong sense of morality.

"Oh yeah? What about cocaine?"

"Don't you think you're asking too many questions?" He challenged. "I'm just a simple businessman. I'm not a bad guy, I just do these things." He started massaging the back of his neck. "Now here's the thing, I don't just sell drugs. I run a small operation servicing a few loyal clients. It keeps the business flowing smoothly."

You honestly couldn't care less but you didn't tell him that.

"I just have one question. If you knew why didn't you say anything?" He questioned.

Your brows lowered. "Because I like to mind my own business."

Apparently, he approved of your answer because he subtly nodded. "I guess I can help out a friendly neighbor that needs it."

"Uh huh. Listen…I want to buy a gun. That's it." You ensued.

In defiance of your confident words, it really pained you to have to say it especially since you've never been a fan of guns in the first place. In fact, you practically condemned all organizations that openly advocated their support of gun carrying. But if no one else could help you then you had to help yourself.

His eyebrows rose and he titled his head at you suspiciously. "Might I inquire as to why you want to buy a gun from me?"

"Why do you want to know?" You snapped defensively.

"Well…if the neighbor that goes out of her way to avoid looking my way suddenly wants to do business with me. I think I'm owed some explanation don't you think?" He replies while he folds his arms.

"I want to shoot somebody."

"Yeah no shit." He looked at you more seriously, obviously expecting a more detailed explanation than the one you provided.

Admittedly, you have to keep in mind that you were asking for one of his guns - guns that he can choose to refuse to give you if he wanted. You can't afford to bite the hand that feeds you at this point. Currently, it's in your best interests to answer any questions he might have.

You sighed, visibly deflating. "They did…some really bad things to me."

"Bad things?"

You bit the inside of your lips, eyes starting to water despite your pained effort to keep them at bay. "Yeah." You mumbled.

With your utterance, his gaze seemed to sharpen and you could see that he was making assumptions in his head. Putting things together out of nothing. The guy was peculiar but he seemed to resonate with your vague reasoning on why you wanted to purchase a firearm.

"And you plan to shoot them for revenge?"

"Only if they come back." You assured him.

"Sounds logical." He nodded. "The guy sounds like a piece of work."

You balled your fist inside your jacket. Oh he had no idea.

Considering that the man was engaged in criminal activities and you were now a witness to that fact, you were not the slightest bit bothered about admitting your true intentions to him. With the little 'operation' he's happily running out of his apartment, you doubt he's going to rat you out.

Walking over to a wall, he removed a funny looking painting that concealed a square lining. He keyed in a passcode that allowed that square lining to open, revealing the type of safe. Within that safe, you easily spotted all kinds of items, some of which you couldn't even make out.

Slightly aghast, you inspected his arsenal of weapons. How the hell did he even get all of these into the building without being noticed? Likely the same way, crime lords and their minions can come and go in your apartment building as they pleased without getting noticed. God, the place needed better security.

He nonchalantly hands you a small compact pistol; it's black and much heavier than you expect it to be. Immediately, you make the distinction of how weird it felt in your hand, almost like it didn't belong there. Probably because it didn't.

"That beauty is a semi-automatic pistol, it has one of the most precise shots. It's definitely one of those weapons that'll get the job you want done."

"I'm not a hitman."

"You don't have to be."

You inspected the gun a little more before asking another important question. "Do you legally own this?"

"What do you think?"

That's good at least. That means it can't be traced and you don't have to worry about getting caught. That way he can't be held liable for any crime that you might commit. That is, if you're not thwarted in your efforts. In your eyes, your actions could very well be treated as a self-defense circumstance.

"How much?"

He seemed to think on it for a moment, rubbing his chin as he stared down at you. You prayed that he wasn't about to make you a strange proposition in exchange because that would really mess up the transaction.

"No charge."

"What?" You asked dumbfounded.

"I decided not to charge you for it so long as you bring it back."

"But why?"

"Do I really need to say…" Something flashed in his eye too quickly for you to decipher. If you had to guess, you would say it was solidarity but you had no true way of knowing unless he outright confirmed it.

In the end, you suppose he doesn't need to voice his reasoning behind it but you understood anyway.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The handgun lay placidly in the box left open on the coffee table in front of you. You've scanned it's inanimate characteristics ever since you begrudgingly brought it inside of your apartment. It looks so out of place on the table. Hell, it didn't even belong in your immediate vicinity.

At first, your resolve was rock solid and practically unshakeable. But now, it feels irreversibly torn under the pressure of your latest decision you've just begun to implement.

You lowered your head unto your hands.

The whole reason you even obtained the gun was to protect yourself from a man that had wronged you and would continue to try and do so in the near future. It wasn't like he didn't have it coming. You could never be understanding of that type of behavior he was fond of displaying.

You put a substantial amount of thought into it and you would rather make the necessary moves to end his streak of violence against you than to continue to unwillingly accommodate it. You're desperate and there's no denying that.

In your mind, this was the only way. You don't do this solely out of concern for yourself but also for your loved ones. It wasn't hard to conceptualize that if he and his goons returned then there would be nothing and no one that could protect you. And that distressed you way more than a customized steel gun in your mouth.

Regardless of how insane the man might appear to be, he's proven himself to be a strategic planner with a pension of staying five steps ahead of everyone else. From what you know, he often had situations planned out well in advance and could anticipate what the next person might do and act accordingly. Well, perhaps it's time for you to be ahead of him. You know what you're up against and there's a certain way you have to go about your retaliation.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

The jarring clap of thunder instantly woke you from a deep slumber. You blinked against the darkness of the room. Small snippets of lightning illuminated the bedroom and you could tell though the closed binds that the sky was still dark. Shortly after, you're sitting up and begin glancing around the darkened room.

The outside winds whistled loudly and you sighed. It wouldn't be the first time a storm woke you up in the middle of the night. You only hope that the resulting storm doesn't knock out the power in the midst of it raging. In some aspects, a storm would actually help you sleep better but for some reason, it leaves you remarkably restless. Even though you didn't bother to check the weather app on your phone, you know the storm probably won't let up for a while.

Pushing the sheets away, you pivot and place your feet on the floor. You leave the bed with the intention of heading to the bathroom. Instantly, you notice that there's a chill in the air that you briefly think of knocking out with a single bottom from the thermometer but you decide against it knowing you'll regret it once you settle comfortably back in bed.

When you reach the bathroom, you stop in front of the sink. In the mirror, your face looks every bit as tired as your body feels. You specifically take note of the growing bags under your eyes that expressly calls attention to that weariness. Turning both taps, you wait a second for the water flow before bending at the waist. You splash water along your face a few times to get rid of the thin layer of sweat. Afterward you use the nearby towel to dry your face of any moisture.

Through all of this you can't help but notice that the surrounding atmosphere feels strange, eerie.

When you move to close the cabinet, a figure is standing close behind you and you barely have time to part your lips to scream before both hands come up to clasp around your neck.

You jolt awake.

Your breath was coming in and out in a hurry.

As you shoot up in bed, both of your hands immediately fly to your neck. It takes a moment for it to sink in that there's no man with his hands wrapped around your throat. It was all a dream. It's all so bizarre because it certainly didn't feel like a dream.

It had been a while since you had a nightmare as disturbing as that and you associate it with stress right away. Truthfully, it's not hard to make the distinction. You can't act like you haven't been under a mountain of mental duress for a while now and now you're dreaming of home invasions and men trying to do you harm.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Despite not falling back asleep like you wanted, you lay in bed until the clock hit around ten before forcing yourself to finally get up.

When the light sound of your front door slowly creeping open reached your ears you froze. It takes only a millisecond to realize that someone was trying to quietly enter your apartment. For a brief moment, you entertained the thought of running to get the gun stored in the top drawer of your nightstand but there was a slight guarantee that you wouldn't make it in time.

Your mind is running a mile a minute with all sorts of possibilities and scenarios when a familiar face appears around the corner. The defensive stance you unknowingly took up suddenly dropped in what you recognize as sheer relief.

In truth, you just relieved that it wasn't what you believed it to be. Otherwise you would've made a grave mistake.

"Josh what I told you about just bursting in my house?!" You called after your brother.

"You knew it was me." He answered, fully rounding the corner that goofy smile you'd grown used to seeing over the years. Unfortunately, the smile wasn't enough to dismiss his latest actions.

"And if I didn't? You know people usually call before they just show up at somebody's house."

"And people usually keep their door locked so others can't just walk in too." He countered as he walked leisurely into the kitchen and snatched up a piece of bacon from the folded paper towel.

At the small discomfort shooting up your arm, you glanced down at your hand gripping the handle of the butter knife. You hadn't even realized that you never let go of it. You were fully prepared to stab someone in the eye with a knife you were just using to cut your pancakes. It's an amusing thought.

"Yeah you're just lucky you didn't get sliced and diced." You say as you resettled on the stool at your kitchen island. "What you doing here anyway?"

"I need a reason to come visit my big sister?" He explains placing his hand over his chest, feigning hurt.

"Mmmhhh. What you want?"

"Actually I came to see if you had any aspirin. These work headaches aren't a joke. I didn't have any at the house and I didn't want to spend any money at the store so…"

You turned your attention back to the plate of breakfast. "Look in the bathroom cabinet." You directed as you shoved a pancake into your mouth.

He had disappeared all for about five minutes before he stomped back to the doorway of the kitchen.

"Um…what the fuck is this?!" He shouted, his eyes widened to a comical degree.

In his raised hand was the case holding the firearm case that you had hidden deep in your nightstand. Inwardly, you sighed but you tried not to giggle when you saw how he was holding the box.

"Didn't I tell you to look in the bathroom, why were you going through my nightstand?"

"Fuck that. What is this?"

"A gun." You said, still chewing the food in your mouth nonchalantly.

"Why the hell do you need a gun?"

"For protection."

"Protection from what exactly?"

"People."

"Did something happen?"

Despite the knowledge that your brother loved you and would do anything for you, you can't tell him. You could not tell your brother that you'd been attacked by a crime lord who was set on making your life a living hell. There's no aspect about your situation that would go over well with him.

You know what his reaction would be - he'd go on a crusade and try to take matters into his own hands. Regardless of how ardent your brother was, you know that there's nothing he can do against the man in question and you would not see your brother hurt or dead because of it.

Like any younger brother, he's protective over you, his only sibling and sister. When you both were younger, it used to annoy you a lot but now you're realizing more than ever that you actually appreciate the conscientiousness over your well-being. As siblings, you grew up closer than ever, always looking out for each other even in the craziest of circumstances. Helping one another had become second nature. Only this time - he couldn't help you. As a matter of fact, there wasn't a single thing he could do for you even if he might not see it that way.

You saw how he looked over the pictures of your family in the front room. There's never been any doubt in your mind that the man was above harming innocent people to get his way. That included your family.

"No. Why do you-" You started.

He says your name in that firm, more severe tone of voice than he usually does when he's worried. "Don't lie to me."

"I said no okay."

"Don't you have to have a permit or something to carry this?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"Do you have one?"

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Nope."

"What the shit!"

"Just drop it, I don't want to talk about it. Just get the aspirin from the cabinet and stop going through my shit." You demanded, snatching the case out of his hands and moving around him. You drowned out his continued rambling as you headed back to your bedroom to put the gun back in the nightstand.

In the midst of you placing the gun back, your phone vibrated along the surface of the nightstand.

You swiped the screen before placing it to your ear. "Candace for the last time, I don't know that guy's Instagram."

"I would surely hope not."

All the blood in your veins chilled instantly and your grip on the phone almost slipped. The male voice on the other end of the phone was certainly not your friend's. Your heart started beating that much harder in your chest.

"Have you been a good girl since I've been gone?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" You sneered

"Of course! I do like to check up on my things…make sure they're secure." His tone was snide and gloating as if he were purposely trying to get under your skin. Knowing him, in all likelihood, he was.

Per his own words, he expected you to pick up when he called, when or wherever that may be. Of course, the man anticipated that you'd be at his beck and call - it's exactly the kind of thing you expected from a mentally deranged man.

"You never did answer my question gorgeous."

"I wasn't going to asshole."

"Oh there's that fire! It makes me miss you all the more…I can't wait to see you burn that bright in person." He excitedly confessed.

Before you could stop yourself, the scathing words shot out of your mouth.

"You'll never get the chance again." You hissed into the phone venomously.

"Is that what you think?"

A boisterous laugh rang out on the other end of the phone and without thinking you subsequently hung up, not wanting to listen to it any further.

The phone dropped and hung at your side for a long moment, you stared at the edge of the stand for long moments afterwards.

That bastard. That fucking bastard. How dare he call you gloat!

You squeezed your phone tighter in your hand to the point where the muscles there started to get numb from the pain. He could terrorize anyone he wanted in the world, why did it have to be you of all people? He couldn't be allowed to continue victimizing you.

That one phone call stomped out all the doubt clinging to you and gave you all the resolve you needed. No, you were ready to end this. For good.

You're coming for that bastard's head.

Chapter Text

In the end, you entrusted your apartment key to Josh, instructing him to look after it in your absence. He was quite confused and it had taken quite a lot to convince him that nothing was amiss with you, only that you were taking a trip and would be back in a few days. You could understand his concern. In his defense, it wasn’t exactly easy to abate his concerns about you when snooping led to him finding a gun in your nightstand. You simply told him that you’d grown afraid for your safety and somewhat apprehensive about living alone as a woman.

From there you set out on your way back to the very city you dreaded. The drive back to Gotham was made entirely in silence as you spent most of it internally debating whether or not you want to actually go through with what you’ve planned. For all your mental grappling, both make sense and neither outweigh the other. By now, you’ve been up for a day and a half, fueled purely by energy drinks, anger and emotional damage to the point where the three are the only things that drive your body to function.

At the very least, you need to be capable of making rational decisions even in your wronged, vengeful state. In your mind, you’re being perfectly rational about your decision.

No matter how your brain tries to rationalize every bit and piece of it, it has to be acknowledged that you were actively in the process of carrying out a murder plot. A murder plot against a crime boss in the most notorious city, a city that was completely under his control. So it went without saying that you needed to act more on logic rather than emotion. You couldn’t afford to fail.

And now, you have to reflect on what sort of person you’ve become to resort to this. Not once in your life had you ever wanted to take another person’s life. Truthfully, it was a shame that you even had to resort to such an option. Perhaps the saddest part was that you know that there are other women out there that had been in your shoes and had to resort to the same thing. Having to deal and make hard decisions regarding a man who was set on destroying their life. And you sympathized with the women - people like The Joker deserved to get what was coming to them.

Admittedly, there were many times where you attempted to wrack your brain for reasons not to actually go through with it but as the past events with him flashed heavily within your mind, you became that much more determined to carry it out.

After what happened at the police station, you were convinced that no one could help you but yourself. You felt backed into a corner with no means of escape. You’re not a malicious or evil person, just a desperate one. But that man had to pay for the things he’s done to you and any other person whose life he’s ruined on a mere whim. He can’t continue to be allowed to get away with the terrible things he’s done. You refused to live the rest of your life in fear. You refused to spend it hiding and anxious of what he may do next.

You’re not a masked or caped crusader who had the capacity and means to protect yourself in a conventional manner. You’re merely a woman who’s been drugged, stalked, had your privacy invaded, and been taken advantage of on multiple occasions.

You thought about what your parents and only sibling might make of your actions and how they would perceive you in the aftermath. But their opinions and potential judgment of it paled in comparison to the satisfaction you would feel with him wiped completely from existence. The Joker’s very existence felt like a threat towards your person and you intended to do something about it. And now was the time to make a move and end this fucked up arrangement once and for all.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

It wasn’t so long ago that you vowed to never return to Gotham but here you are, back on what you deem to be a very important mission. Or more accurately, a suicide mission if things wound up going left.

The densely populated city was practically rife with crime, poverty, and political corruption. You can’t imagine voluntarily choosing or being forced to make such a place your home. For that very reason, you hoped your friends would move to another city entirely. To you, Gotham was nothing but a dreary city with an element of hopelessness attached to it as well as its migrating masses that regularly walk the streets. During your initial visit, you couldn’t help but notice how there was an overarching darkness attached to the city. The place can be a paradise for some but for others it could be a literal hell. Nothing about it seems clean and glamorous about the place as a whole. The city remains a cesspool for crime thanks to people like The Joker making it what it was.

Gotham was essentially an old city that was a part of its own world. One would be foolish to be dazzled by the perpetually gloomy metropolis that housed millions of civilians both rich and poor alike.

Since dusk was rapidly approaching, you decide to check into a small rundown motel near the outskirts of town. As you pull into the near empty parking lot, you put the rental in park and scan the surroundings. The large flickering neon sign displaying the name of the motel flashed overhead. Places like these are almost always situated in a remote area or along the stretch of highway.

You wanted your arrival to be as nondescript as possible. You couldn’t accomplish that by staying in a hotel within the city. Even if you stood a minor chance of being spotted, you didn’t want to risk it. Who knew how deep his connections ran into the city. There was no telling who he had his grip into. He couldn’t know you were back in town.

Overlooking the dingy, nearly decrepit building, you hated having to settle on such a place even for a short period. You get the sense that the building hadn’t been refurbished since the seventies. The only people that would consider frequenting the place would be addicts or the homeless. It certainly wasn’t the type of lodging you’d ever want to frequent and as of now it only served as a place for you to regroup and carry out your plan.

Considering the fact that it was nearly dark and you probably shouldn't even be in this part of town, you literally had to look over your shoulder for any threat of lurking danger.

As you approach the front office, it’s just your luck to spot a group of questionable looking men lingering around the side of the motel. Unsurprisingly, the men leer at you as you approach. You wouldn’t even bother giving them the attention they craved and don’t spare them a single glance to show them that you were aware of their staring. You simply didn’t have time for anyone’s bullshit tonight.

The sketchy check-in clerk behind the corner looked like he’d rather be anywhere but where he currently was. The expression on his face was mostly somber and indifferent. It wasn’t hard to believe that he wasn’t all that concerned with who checked in or walked through the doors of the derelict motel.

“Room for one. Single night.” You specified.

He smelled heavily of cigarettes and beer. His shirt was at least two sizes too big and you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he dabbled in a little more than beer and cigarettes. But it really wasn’t any of your business. What other people chose to do in their lives was none of your concern.

After obtaining your room key, you weren’t shocked at all when the men decided to follow closely behind you on the path to your designated room.

“What about her?” You heard one of them say.

“Doesn’t look like she’s from here. Probably got some cash on her.” Another voice pointed out.

From their poorly concealed conversations, it was rather evident that they planned to rob you of whatever possessions you had and even briefly suggested doing something worse if they could get you in the right position. It sickened you.

With it only your second time paying the city a visit, literally within minutes of touching down, you were already being plotted on by robbers. One had to marvel at Gotham City’s pendant for making its presence known for both resident and visitor.

When the distance between your room grew closer and your patience had finally run out, you turned to face the group, face conveying nothing but annoyance. “Can you all stop following me? I’d really appreciate it.”

It didn’t make sense that you were already running tinto trouble like this. You can’t imagine what it was like for the people who actually took up residence in the city. You’d already been assaulted by one man and you’ll be damned if you let another take advantage of you again. When one of them stepped forward and you gripped the strap of your bag tighter.

“We’re just making sure the pretty lady got to her room with no trouble.”

“Oh please. You wouldn’t care if I was laying in a ditch on the side of the road. Now leave me alone.”

“Tell you what, why don’t you open your purse, show us what’s inside. Then maybe we’ll take our leave. Deal?”

“Listen, I’ve had a long, not particularly interesting day. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Whoa, take it easy. We’re not trying to do anything. Tell you what, how about you just hand over the purse and we’ll be on our way.”

“Does it look like I’m fucking playing? I said leave me the fuck alone. I’m not going to ask again.”

“Listen bitch-”

“Bitch? I got your bitch alright. How about we see if this is loaded or not.” You say, pulling the weapon from your bag and pointing it at them.

The sheer panic on their faces realizing that you weren’t as vulnerable as they believed gave you immense gratification.

“...Go ahead, try me.” You insist with a smirk, your finger hovering over the trigger of the gun.

Sensing you were close to pulling that trigger, you watched with further satisfaction as the men promptly took off in the other direction.

With you no longer under threat of being robbed, you continued on down the poorly lit corridor of rooms.

Upon arriving at the room, you used the key to open the door and slip inside before utilizing all the accompanying locks to make sure the room was secure. The lights flicker on with a low buzz, the lighting more yellow in color than the expected white glare. Probably had something to do with how dim the light fixture was.

The assigned room was nothing special, of modest accommodation and furniture that made you question how old it was. The room was unsurprisingly small with dingy furniture and a thin but barely noticeable layer of dust along the ceiling fan and window frame. The only comfort was that the room looked moderately clean, having likely not been checked into for ages. There’s also a pungent musty odor lingering around the majority of the space that’s assaulting your nose to the extent that you have to force yourself to ignore it in order for it not to overtake you.

The coloring of the motel room mostly consisted of neutrals and wood tones and looked quite ordinary. All in all, it was the standard sleazy motel room.

Walking over to the bed, you placed your bag onto it and began to pull various items out of your bag. The first thing being the article of clothing you’d chosen for the night.
The club attire you’d went with was a light pink strapless dress with matching heels that were low enough for you to walk comfortably in. Or run if needed. The dress was one that had remained in your closet for some time, since you’d decided that you didn’t have the confidence to wear something so scandalous out in public. Whether you wanted it to or not, the outfit was definitely going to attract attention. Clearly that wasn’t your intention but you needed to blend in with the rest of the crowd who absolutely certainly would be dressed in the same kind of clothing.

Clubbing attire was meant to be eye-catching and this dress did meet those requirements.

The next thing you pulled out was the gun. Almost immediately, there’s a range of emotions swirling within you as you hold it. Nothing about it is weightless even with it being smaller than the average gun. But then again, maybe you’re holding it too firmly.

In your hand, the gun felt like a tool - an instrument to carry out a specific deed. In this case, a murderous deed but a deed no less. There’s an aspect of danger and power associated with it. Add into the fact that you possessed no formal gun training. It was almost inconceivable that the inanimate piece of metal could be the key to your freedom. Still the thought was doing nothing to at least placate your nerves.

The explanation was entirely reasonable and at least a somewhat truthful excuse even though he knew that you were against guns and actually advocated for gun control. With you now coming into possession of one such weapon - it was carving a massive incongruity into your beliefs and character.

Regardless, you don’t want to get so caught up in revenge that you lose focus of why you were doing it in the first place. You refused to allow uncertainty to overtake your thinking.

And even if you managed to get your revenge and kill him somehow, you have no doubt that a plethora of issues and individuals coming after you in retribution immediately after the deed was committed. If that happened then it was very likely that you wouldn't live to make it out of Gotham. As a lone woman, there was no possible way for you to be able to handle the repercussion of murdering a crime boss. Strangely enough, you found yourself resigned to that very inevitable fact.

The demented man clearly intended to torment you for however long until he eventually grew bored of it and maybe killed you afterwards. You refuse to be another causality left behind and forgotten after you no longer held his interest. That’s ultimately how men like him operate - the men who have everything and still take what they want. You loathed the very likes of him.
What you’re doing in the grand scheme of things was going up against a dangerous crime lord. Most would deem your resolve and actions utterly insane and foolhardy and you’re of sound mind to agree with the sentiment. In fact, some might even say that your actions mirrored something like a suicide mission even if you didn’t want to categorize it as that.

Now you just had to wait for nightfall.

xxxxXXXXxxxx

Unsurprisingly, it’s still freezing outside as you stand in the line on the pavement to get into the club. Despite wearing a jacket, you’re only blanketed by your thoughts, your adrenaline was too high for you to even consider the wind chill. In essence, your body was functioning primarily on autopilot, focusing solely on what was to come.

As of now, simply getting the firearm in the club was a major concern. Luckily the small gun, a ruger, was small enough to conceal in your purse.

There’s a substantial amount of anxiety regarding the bouncer stationed at the front entrance. Most of your worry stems from the possibility of him checking through your purse to find the weapon. The gun would almost certainly be discovered even with the most careless or half-hearted of glances into the small handbag. A general sense of unease danced along your senses. Frankly, you don’t know what your actions will ultimately lead to but you do know that everything basically hinges on how

Nothing about your current appearance would give him any reason to be suspicious so you shouldn’t be worried in that regard.

Fortunately, the scumbag was too busy focusing all his attention on your dress. He seemed way more interested in frisking you rather than searching the purse hanging from your shoulder.

As much as you’d like to be, you weren’t surprised in the slightest. Incompetence can always be expected from pigheaded men like him.

A short while later, after a somewhat overindulgent frisk, you’re allowed entrance into the nightclub. Honestly, if there was one thing you could give Gotham credit for - it was their extensive nightclub scene. It was only your second time coming to the establishment and you can see why so many people were enthralled by it - it was like a whole other world inside.

A deep breath of air fills your lungs as you step further in, the bodily response grounding you. The music is blaring with an uproarious tempo. You don’t pay much attention to the shameless couple kissing vigorously to your right.
With the lights dimmed and multicolored strobe lighting being the only thing illuminating the space, you were confident that you wouldn’t be prematurely spotted by the wrong people as you searched for the target.

Truthfully, you didn’t even know if pale-faced terror would be present at the club tonight and all you had to go on was a whim.

From there, you began to scan the interior of the club amidst the sea of dancing bodies easily sorting out who were strictly the partying individuals and were a part of a different entourage just based on appearance.

Whilst brushing through the crowd, a tall man wearing a silk shirt was passing by on your left, he’d centered his gaze on you. It probably had something to do with your outfit. His eyes dragged from the top of your head to your feet and it was rather apparent that he was apprasing you in a manner that was entirely lustful. All it took was a sneer from you to let him know that you weren’t the slightest bit interested.

Something caught your attention, in a closed off section situated in a far corner of the large room, you easily spot the very individual in all his fiendish glory. Right away, you’ve zeroed in on him - the one individual who’s purposely made your life a living hell since you came into contact with him.

As you expected, he was being heavily protected by his men. The men were arranged in a loose but organized formation in order to watch for threats and protect their boss at a moment's notice. Surely no one would dare to try and come after him on his own turf.

The powerful well-protected gangster sat overlooking his domain - the very image of him was fear-inducing. It just goes to show just how much power he wielded in any space whether it belonged to him or not. He had the ability to command a space simply by being present. The concept is as baffling as it is terrifying.

The maniacal crime boss was seated on the couch as if it were a throne, much like a king whilst presiding over his subjects. His trademark green hair was slicked back from his angular profile, the ‘damaged’ tattoo on full display across his forehead. His hollow gaze was both arresting and intimidating. He was dressed in a lavish ensemble consisting of a dark purple suit and black dress shirt underneath with the first three buttons left undone, exposing a good portion of his tattooed chest. The visceral expression in his cold, dead eyes staggered you. Both of his large hands are positioned resolutely on a cane, silver signet rings covering nearly every one of his long fingers.

Everything about him radiated danger and power - you can very plainly see why he’s regarded as the clown prince of crime.

The blood in your veins turned to ice at that moment, stomach plummeting to your feet as you met his stare head on, tensing as the man’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

Once those chilling blue orbs show recognition, an elated smile spreads across the man’s mouth. With that look, it was clear that he had become fully aware of your presence.

The image of it has haunted you for many nights since your last encounter.

The anger from seeing it burns hotly in the center of your chest.

Drawn purely by instinct, you barely had time to allow rage to fully consume you before you leveled the firearm directly at him, index finger pressing down on the trigger. You could barely feel the recoil of the gun in your hand - you can barely hear the sound of the shots themselves.

The gun doesn’t exactly sound off with a pop and a flash as you were expecting. No. The sound was rather faint in your ears compared to the boisterous sound the gun produces in any space.

Everything around you was muffled and yet you were aware of everything happening around you.

A flicker of understanding passed over the feature of his face before he threw his body into motion to avoid the hail of bullets flying in his direction. You let off about three rounds, the bullets embedded themselves in the cushion where the man’s head had just been moments before.

When the unmistakable sound of gunshots rang out, all hell broke loose within the club. People ran past you not even knowing that you were the person firing off shots. The once jovial atmosphere had turned into something else entirely, everyone is promptly sent scattering across the dancefloor like roaches with many heading straight for the exit just to avoid catching a bullet. You’d never seen a club nearly over capacity clear out so quickly.

Everything happened so quickly.

All of the men guarding the Joker immediately sprung into action, shifted straight into defense mode, hands going for their own weapons, their own alert eyes scanning the panicked crowd for the person firing off shots. Just when you think you may be shot down on the spot, you see the shocked recognition in their eyes - the reluctance to pull their pistol on you. Obviously they didn’t want to do so and had to face the wrath of their employer who clearly had a twisted fondness for you. It was the only reason why you weren’t full of holes.

It's at that moment that you catch sight of Johnny whose eyes went wide before an enraged sneer settled on his features, nose wrinkling in shock and displeasure. The look wasn’t overly surprising seeing as the man had always seemed to have a glaring dislike of you for whatever reason.

Gripping the textured handle firmly, you ceased firing for the moment, gaze darting to get a clear shot. Obviously firing until you’re out of ammunition wasn’t the wisest idea and you didn’t want to waste any bullets on those who weren’t the intended target. Unfortunately that included the many guards that protected the Joker.

Considering you were actively trying to gun down their boss, they needed to act swiftly and that’s exactly what they did. Not a second later, one man began barreling towards you and even with a loaded gun in your hand, it still felt overly alarming. You aptly remembered him as one of the men who’d laughed and delighted in his bosses’ humiliating treatment of you within your apartment.

There wasn’t any time or opportunity to block or defend yourself in any way that mattered.

Something hard slams into you, sending you crashing to the floor hard enough that all the breath in your body leaves. Despite the pain the impact caused, you still did everything in your power to escape his hold. You don’t know how hard you fought but you definitely gave it your all.

Since the man was not authorized to use his weapon, a physical takedown was the next best thing. The rough takedown solidified that. It was done with brute force. He bum-rushed you as if you were the same size or larger than him and your feet were swept out from under you.

Since your aggressor wasn’t given the order to actively harm you in the way that he liked and you quickly took advantage of that fact. Given his next actions, you’re almost certain that this man intends to cripple you in any way possible. Despite your initial reluctance to shoot him, you would if it meant you could free yourself from the current predicament.

Whatever leverage you had currently, you knew you wouldn’t have it for long in this position. Some of the men obviously possessed burly, well-built frames compared to your smaller, lithe composition. That automatically gave them the upper hand.

All you knew was that you were doing everything not to let him take the gun from you.

He shifted to trying to wrestle the weapon from your hand but no matter what you didn’t let go of the gun. You struggled feverishly as the man attempted to establish his weight over you. You wretched back to elbow the man directly into his already broken nose. The man snarled as rivets of blood began to spew from his obviously broken nose. If you weren’t still under serious threat of danger, you would have smiled in satisfaction.

Balling your hand into a tightly wound fist, you struck out at the man, hitting him directly in the nose. Kicking out and thrashing violently to throw his body off of yours before twisting to claw violently at the man’s face.

“Hurry up and get her under control.” Johnny ordered.

Through a series of rough handling methods, the guy managed to restrain you. Your face was pushed into the cold floor, one of your arms pulled back at an odd angle. You know why this was - if you so much as moved in the wrong direction, it may wind up broken.

In that moment, the Joker stood and began a slow series of loud claps as if he just finished watching a show.

“Well if it isn’t my gorgeous gal. I gotta say…that was quite the performance.” He spoke evenly, his mocking voice sounding like crushed velvet.

You could hear the smile in his voice even without being able to see it properly.

Stepping down from the raised platform, he eagerly closed the distance between the two of you. What you don’t understand is how instead of acting with outrage, he beams excitedly at you. With all the power at his disposal, he could have you wiped off the face of the earth in an instance if he wanted.

The men obeyed without a moment’s hesitation, obviously not wanting to incur the wrath of their boss for any sort of slight or disobedience brought on by their handling of you.

In the ensuing struggle the gun winds up falling out of your hand and another man wastes no time kicking the gun out of reach.

“Well well…isn't this the most pleasant surprise. And you’re all dressed up for me.”

Going strictly off of his current demeanor, the man was all too excited to lay eyes on you considering that you’d just made a deliberate attempt on his life. Your actions have clearly impressed and seemingly aroused him to a certain extent.

“Get the fuck off me! I’m going to kill all you fucks!” You shouted flippantly.

“You hear that boys? She’s going to kill us. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

In a short time, he successfully snuffed out any hope of you possibly ridding yourself of him for good.

Some of the men laughed whilst Johnny mostly regarded you with a hard stare, not at all impressed with your near successful attempt on his boss's life. Despite his bosses happiness he surely was not.

“I was so bored until you showed up. This is certainly not the reunion I was expecting but I’m happy either way.”

All it takes is a simple hand gesture from the man to have the men lifting you up. You’re positioned over a hard shoulder, the bone digging uncomfortably in your stomach.

He approaches you like a predator closing in on its prey, measured footsteps incredibly daunting. Seeing the joy on his face sickens you.

“Did you miss me?”

The loving tone in his voice had your skin crawling in the most unnatural manner. He was a dark cloud that hung like a shadow over your thoughts and subconscious dreams nearly every waking moment.

“No.” You bit out.

For a brief moment, he appeared disappointed by your answer but the look disappeared so quickly that you’re not really sure if you ever saw it.

Even with his blue eyes gleaming, his face closely resembles that of an excited child rather than a psychopathic criminal.

“I guess that little show with my gun really stuck with you huh? I can always do it again if you’d like.”

“You won’t get another chance.” You ground out.

His head tilted eerily to the side and several joints cracked simultaneously before he crouched down to your level.

“Wanna bet?” He asked, flashing that mouth full of perfectly lined, gleaming metal teeth smugly down at you.

With the snap of his fingers the men are hauling you up and away towards the back of the club.

“Be fucking careful. I don’t want a single hair plucked from her pretty little head.” He growled at them.

You feel lower than an animal, with no power to prevent anything from happening.

You were carelessly tossed onto the bed like a ragdoll, bouncing on the soft surface until you immediately righted yourself. You never expected the club to have rooms in the back with a bed. However, the purpose of why wasn’t lost on you.

The men then retreated from the room, leaving you with their unhinged, eager boss who was still smirking devilishly at you.

He clicked his tongue mockingly.

“Naughty girl. You must’ve known I was planning to pay you another visit soon. But it’s okay I’m here now.”

The man comes to stand directly over you and it becomes disgustingly apparent what he intended to do.

The bed dipped as the crime boss maneuvered himself above you, hunching directly over your frame.

Dreading the predicament you were indefinitely about to be placed in, You briefly contemplated what your next move was. With no real viable choices, you lunged at him in a last ditch effort to fight.

With a strength you didn’t know his body possessed, he swiftly forces you back onto the bed, his large hands keeping your own above your head. The hold he has on your wrists is tight enough to aggravate the bone there. He’s frighteningly stronger than his lean body indicates.

“Something tells me that you don’t plan on being good tonight.”

The intent in those cold blue eyes was displayed with characteristic openness.

Swifting the hold on your wrists to one hand, he reaches around and produces a pair of shiny handcuffs. Your heart instantly tanked at the sight of them.

Once the cold metal cuffs clink around your wrists it sinks in that you’re truly in a dire situation.

With you sufficiently subdued to his liking, he sat back to admire his latest handiwork.

You kept your thighs pressed together so he couldn’t force them open. Whatever the man planned to do, you were determined not to make it easy for him.

“Keep moving gorgeous…there’s cuffs for your ankles too.” His voice was flirtatious and smooth.

You immediately ceased struggling.

Cerulean eyes darken at once, a scary emotion in them you hadn’t seen before and you flinched at the intensity of it.

The man's fingers soon came up to play with the lining of your dress and you tensed. There’s barely a second to register what’s happening before he pulls the front of your dress down, exposing your chest entirely to his gaze.

His eyes rested lustfully on the twin globes of your breasts and he started palming his hardness through his pants. His fingertips brushing against the hardened nub of your right breast gently before he started pinching the delicate peak. You yelped, launching your feet forward to kick him directly in the shin.

Just as you anticipated, the man immediately went about violating your person. Even with the pressure gone, your nipple continued to ache.

Clearly he was working himself up and growing impatient enough to throw the bottom of your dress up and rip away your panties soon after. The dress is left basically wrapped around your midsection.

The second your hairless mound became visible, the hunger in his gaze intensified.

Somehow none of what is happening is shocking, the man operates solely with an impulsive disposition. Given his disturbed mind, it’s not like you can expect any rationalization from him since he’s clearly insane. Unlike most people, he doesn’t bother to hide his depravity, in fact, he happily showcases it for others to see and experience. His actions only make sense to him and that was all that mattered. He got off on intentionally victimizing you at every juncture.

He grins proudly at your subjugation, clearly relishing in mental struggle and confusion. To him, you merely served as an outlet for his sexual depravities and he reminded you of that every single encounter.

Which incidentally, made for an unconventional and strangely alluring aspect about him - the madness within him was like an aphrodisiac. But that was the issue, you can no longer deal with his twisted fixation with you.

“You’re insane.” You uttered.

He laughed loudly at that.

Peering into those blue pools of evil, you watched as he merely shrugged before tilting his head to the side. “When have I ever claimed to be sane?”

“While I’m proud, you’ve still been a very, very bad girl. And bad girls need to be punished.” He affirmed.

“Fuck you!”

“Oh? I can understand that you’re eager but we’ll get to that in a moment.”
In an impulsive move, you spit directly in his face, watching as the spittle slowly trickled down the skin. The look in his eyes just about scares you half to death. Icy blue eyes had sharpened on you and he looked absolutely murderous, like he might kill you on the spot for what you’d just done.

For any perceived slight or disrespect, he would punish you in retaliation.

Instead of inciting violence on you, he calmly brought a hand up and used his thumb to wipe away the check on his cheek.

Out of nowhere, he grips you by the hair and yanks it painfully. The pain seers throughout the entirety of your skull and you struggle against the hold to no avail as he forces you to open up your jaw. The second he manages to pry it open wide enough, he spits directly into your mouth.

“Swallow it.” He orders, voice thunderous and nostrils flared.

You reel in disgust and horror at the thought as you had no intention of complying with any of his demands. You stared back at him defiantly.

Regardless, the man’s eyes bore into your own in an intense stare that wouldn’t be broken unless he allowed it.

“Swallow it right fucking now.” He demands, squeezing your face tightly with one hand.

Sheer frustration gnawed fervently at you but most of all your glaring failure at having to swallow your pride and comply with his demands. Words can’t describe the utter disgust you feel at having the lukewarm saliva slide down your throat the way that it did.

Straightaway, your lips closed around the long finger and did exactly as he demanded. All the while he glared hungrily at you.

“Good girl.” He purred lowly.

“You don’t want to play hide and seek anymore huh? Too boring for ya? That’s okay. I can find a game that’s more fun.” He cooed, voice filled with malice and impropriety.
In truth the statement should’ve incensed you beyond all belief but at this point, you think he should’ve allowed his men to shoot you where you stood.

“I have something for you. I’d nearly forgotten being so caught up in the moment and all.”
“Tada!”

“I see now…you want a reminder. You want a reminder so you won’t ever forget about all the fun we’ve had.” Mister J’s ruby lips twisted into a sinister smile and a deep unsettling laugh derives from his belly. The sound of it is unnatural and in some ways childlike depending on how one chooses to perceive it.

Fear skated down your spine with enough force that it nearly caused you to start trembling.

Did it even have to come to this?

It was extremely malicious of him to go this route and you shuddered at the very idea that he would even consider doing this. The very image of you helpless and at his mercy thrilled him.

Sheer panic grips you right away, your heart beginning to hammer much faster.

The man's face lowered extremely close to your own, drinking in your horrified expression.

“Well don’t you worry your pretty little head. Daddy’s gonna help you remember everything.” He promised.

The statement sounded like a vicious threat to your well being. From listening to his words, you expected him to take his time tormenting every inch of your body but the man undoubtedly had something else hidden in his arsenal of debauchery. Either way, your mind was prompted to brace against the whatever deviant things he was preparing to subject you to.

In his immediate reaction, the crime boss pulled back to stare at you, his nostrils flaring in anger. Just going by his unpredictable and chaotic nature, it was expected that your actions would no doubt be met with hostility.

He quickly rid himself of his suit jacket and dress shirt, exposing his narrow waist but muscled abdomen to your wide eyes. At this point, you can’t do much but stare at him in horror as he crawls atop you.

Your breath hitched, pulse pounding loudly in your ears.

Even with the threat of imminent danger, you can’t ignore the feeling of heat rushing down into your core. Just from his touch alone, desire began to pulse through every fiber of your being. As much as you hated and wanted him dead, deep down some instinctual part of you craved his proximity, his touch, and the pleasure you know you’ll receive at his hands. You can’t stand how quickly your body betrays you. You found it absolutely revolting how the man could rouse your body with both soft and rough ministrations. For as much hate as you possessed for him, it shouldn’t be possible in any capacity. You can't make sense of it.

By this point, shame had started to seep out of your pores in large waves.

From what you know about him, the vast majority of his indiscretions are horrifically immoral, especially the ones he committed against you. All of which are things he willfully inflicted on you. But as circumstances would have it, this would likely be his most violating, explicit transgression yet.

“A little outdated but it still gets the job done.” He menacingly declared.

When the device fully comes into view, you nearly bulk when you finally realize what it is. The device in question turned out to be a handheld view camera.

He couldn’t - he wouldn’t. You reasoned. as he held the camera directly in view. It’s in that exact moment that you come to realize that he’s not human - he’s a demon in human form. But that’s what he was, a man lacking the mental capacity to acknowledge anyone’s free will.

“I’ve never considered myself a camera person. I mostly use it to film my less than savory deeds.” He smirked knowingly.

Your stomach churned with pure unadulterated fear, limbs paralyzed with inaction.

“Come on…don’t tell me my gorgeous gal is camera shy.”

Once again, that creepy smile crept onto his pale face. “You made such a big fuss about those photos.”

Taking all of this into account, you could not ignore the desire pooling into your gut at the very thought of him acting his desires onto you.

“Now, spread your legs like the obedient slut that you are.” He commanded a hard edge in his tone.

The man then curled his fingers in your hair tightly, making you grit your teeth as he brought his face close.
Once again, he brought a hand up to your face, using a single finger to caress the line of your jaw. “It doesn’t matter what you say. I know all you want is to have your pussy filled and I’m happy to oblige.”

The thickness of his dick breached your unprepared entrance, gradually working into your unprepared entrance in spite of your distressed cries. You bucked at the painful intrusion, body resisting in an effort to prevent him from entering further. You were stretched to capacity with you unable to do much but accept him you simply resign yourself to grit your teeth amidst the resulting discomfort and pain. The burn the intrusion caused in your lower extremities prompted your entire body to tense. When he made to withdraw himself again, you screamed at the feeling. In one devastating motion, he was seated inside of you, remaining undeterred by your body’s stunned reaction.

“...no stop…” You pleaded weakly.

The walls of your slick passage were gripping him like a vice.

“You have no idea how many times I think about this cunt of yours. So tight and perfect.”

Part of you already knows what’s coming next. You can’t even properly brace yourself when he begins slamming down into you. The length of his dick sliding back and forth over your folds. He’s as hard as steel, your body having committed the feel of it to memory. He established a frenzied pace, thrusting deep into you in hard but steady movements.

From there, he unleashes a flurry of maniacal thrusts into you. Your body is practically screaming, senses alight and going haywire. As a result, your mind is left teetering between several planes of existence, barely capable of thinking past the fog of pleasure.

When you crack your eyes open, you’re not surprised to find the camera directly in your face.

He’s utterly meticulous in keeping every part of you in the shot, whether he focuses on your heaving breasts, facial expression, or the one place where both your bodies are joined together. You jerked your head to the side in a strained attempt to hide your face front both the feeling of him ruthlessly driving into you and the view of the camera. One of his hands comes up to wrap itself back around your throat, holding you in place while filming your distress etched face and bouncing breasts.
He aimed the camera at your waist, staring hungrily down at the spot where you and him were joined together. Wet slaps of skin fill the air as his body violently jerks against yours, your overly sensitive walls stretched, his girth rubbing them raw. Only he would be so demented to want to film his exploits and the things he does to you.

“Look at me…look into the camera.” He demanded.

He roughly takes hold of your jaw and forces your face towards him. He didn’t stop even when you started to wheeze painfully from the force it was using, seemingly set on you looking into the lens.

The camera frame provided a raw and erotic visual display.

With your hand still securely cuffed, he flips you over to your front and mounts you from behind.
Your entire frame tenses when the blunt head of his erection starts to slowly breach the tight ring again of your entrance, sending a terrible spasm of pain throughout your lower half. The sensation leaves you gasping for air as you attempt to either force him out or adjust to the intrusion.

With the new position, the camera is placed on the bed just inches away pointed towards your face, still it was positioned at an angle to catch every visceral expression that crossed your features.

The Joker quickly situates himself behind you, settling over the expanse of your back, taking hold of your hips and surging forward. The hot rod of flesh began to enter the inviting warmth of your core. Another swift motion causes you to be filled again, the slide of his manhood was made easier. Without warning, you could feel him digging deeper into you to the point of you screeching.

The feeling multiplied when his dick shifted angles and started pounding directly against your cervix. From there, you descended into letting out loud hapless screams, at the sensation whilst he attacked your neck ravenously, leaving welts and bit imprints in the skin. He continued to mercilessly impale you with the hard pillar of flesh while you writhed in both agony and bliss.

His hips are pumping furiously against your ass in deft, fluid motions, maintaining a frantic and demanding rhythm. Each thrust seemingly more forceful than the last. You bite into your bottom lip to keep from screaming but he reaches around to grip your jaw and squeezes the bone there.

The camera almost certainly captured the lewd, wet sounds from the violent coupling. You fervently hoped that you wouldn’t expose to him just how much you enjoyed some of the things he did. You knew for as long as you lived that you could never allow him to become privy to how you found an inkling of pleasure in his touch despite how degrading or painful it might be. You were furious with yourself that you could not rid yourself of him - that you couldn’t ward off his advances. You were completely powerless to stop what was taking place.

At this point, your vision had completely glazed over, your eyes open but unseeing as if trapped in a pleasure induced trance. The jarring sensation rippled through your entire body and you cried out in ecstasy. In spite of this, he continued penetrating even further into your depths. Rutting against your frame like an animal with no self-control. The sheer savageness of the thrusts are enough to rock your body into the surface beneath you.

Your breath quickened with an upcoming release and he appeared to take notice.

“Aha aha…you’re not allowed to cum unless I say so.” He uttered.

“I love your singing voice. So loud and fucking beautiful. I’m going to fucking ruin you.” He growled.

More sick agonizing pleasure bloomed, unfurling deep in the recesses of your stomach.

He chose that moment to readjust his grip on your hip and your back arches painfully to accommodate or at least ease the heavy pressure being imposed on your spine. You can feel the gold chain around his neck rocking back and forth along your heated skin. With the man’s head positioned next to your own, you could feel and hear his hot, heaving breaths against the shell of your ear.

All the while, he continued to brutally slam into that one place that pulled ragged shouts from your chest. “I hate you! I hate you!” You yelled, the sound escaping you resembling a hoarse whine instead of a declaration of hatred.

“You can say you hate me all you want but your cunt sure doesn’t!” He roughly amends with a mocking laugh.

Your screams of outright hatred soon dissolved into cries of ecstasy.

“You look so fucking good. Like a masterpiece…like you were made to be on camera. You should’ve chosen a different career.”

“Shut…up.” You grounded out.

“Why all the anger? Don’t I make you feel good?” He taunted.

“Is that what’s wrong? You want to feel good again?” He softly mused.

The manner in which the question smoothly imprinted on your brain unnerved you entirely.

Not long after, there was a firm hand around your throat, the resulting pressure crushing effectively your windpipe. Your hands came up to claw at the unmoving appendage set on strangling you. “Answer me when I fucking talk to you.” He growled.

“...yes…” Your voice quietly trembled.

To think all of this was taking place because you had to use the bathroom at the club.

He growled absolutely obscene things to you while you tried your hardest to ignore him.

“Feels good doesn’t it? You know won’t kill me because you love this. You love what I can do to you…how I make you feel.”

Not wanting him to hear the pleasured sounds from you, you buried your face into the sheets. A low whimper slipped past your lips before you could stop it. But it was too late, you knew he heard it.

Smashing his mouth against yours, barely missing the top row of teeth in the process before he eventually pulled back.

A firm hand wraps itself around your throat, the finger just loose enough to not choke you. Still the added pressure makes you lightheaded.

“Cum for me. Let me see it…give it to me.”

You fought against the impending orgasm, not wanting to give into the man’s sick demand.

A powerful orgasm hits you like a strike of lightning and you twist violently as the feeling overwhelms you completely. Black spots danced along the edges of your vision and panic rose to its highest point as you were sure that you were close to losing consciousness.

“Don’t cum in me.” You whined weakly.

“You don’t tell me what the fuck to do.”

A hard set of teeth buried themselves in your throat soon after, hot white pain shot through you. You felt his erection pulsing inside, releasing thick jets of semen from his loins.

The weight on your back grew heavier and he heaved next to your ear before seemingly composing himself. Some of the weight left and you expected him to pull out and have his men discard you like used trash. But that didn't happen, in fact the man remained buried inside of you with no indication of leaving anytime soon.

When he started to kiss and lick at the skin of your shoulder blade, your brows furrowed in confusion. That confusion only amplified when he began nestling the top of your top with his own like a beloved pet. “You don’t think the fun’s going to end right now do ya? Nooo we’ve got a long way to go before that happens. I’ve got all night to play with you.”