The Joker Imagines

Fight pt. 1

Imagine getting into a fight with the Joker.

You heard the door slam from all the way in your room (technically the room you and the Joker shared). It slightly shook the warehouse. He must be drunk or something. It was about 2am, so he must've finished his mission and proceeded to go to his club which conveniently had a bar.

He probably just needs some attention. I'll go see what's wrong, you thought. You set your book Pride and Prejudice face down on the nightstand so you wouldn't  lose your place and swung your legs over the side of the bed. You took a moment to think about what you would say to him before hopping down off of the bed. You crept across the floor to the doorway and stopped when you heard a gunshot.

You rolled your eyes. He's gotten so frustrated to the point of him killing one of his henchmen; again. You swung open the door and proceeded to sneak into the second hallway, which was your personal favorite. It had most of the gold objects he owned framed in glass cases, which included an antique gold pistol.

You quietly made your way to the golden banister to see him stumble back and drop the gun. He drunkenly laughed and began to slowly make his way up the stairs.

Your heart jumped into your throats in anticipation and fear. Although you were afraid of J, you were excited that he was finally home after a two week long trip.

You quickly tiptoed back to the room and quietly pulled the door shut behind you. You wrung your hands together and paced in place. You didn't know where to go to make it seem... natural.

You heard muffled grumbling and heavy footsteps outside the door. You sighed and practically ran to the bed and jumped under the covers. You saw the door handle twist and you grabbed Pride and Prejudice off the table and pretended to read just as he stumbled through the door.

"Heyyyy baby..." he said with a sloppy smile and droopy eyes. He had a whisky bottle in his hand that had barely any left.

"Hi honey," you said nervously. You put your book down once again and got up, even though you'd just sat down.

You walked over to him and kissed him hesitantly. You tasted alcohol on his lips and you pulled away after a moment. He was giggling at this point.

"So, you're obviously hammered sweetie..." you started.

"Haha yeaaaaahhh," he said with squinted eyes.

"I think you should replace your liquor with some water and maybe get some rest, okay hon?" You said slowly, hesitantly.

His face crumpled in anger and confusion. "What? What the fuck do you mean "drink some water"? I'm fine!" He shouted. He took another swig from the bottle.

You  slowly eased the bottle out of his grip. You eventually got it and you took just a second to look at the nutrition information, when your head flew to the side and you fell back out of nowhere and a slap echoed off the wall. You dropped the bottle and it surprisingly shattered on contact with the floor.

You fell back onto your bottom and at first you didn't feel anything. But then you felt an excruciating sting on your right cheek. You gasped and clutched your cheek and tears filled your eyes. You looked up at your abuser to see him glaring at you. You couldn't believe that he'd just hit you.

"Crazy bitch trying to control me. I do what I want to do!"

He began to walk away when you built up the nerve to yell something to him.

"I thought you loved me, J! If you loved me, why would you abuse me like that bitch Harley?!" You screamed at him with tears clouding your vision.

He approached you and quickly backhanded you again. You fell to the side, once again. It was the same cheek as last, so now it hurt even more.

"Don't you EVER talk to me like that again, doll face." He spat at you. "Now I need to find another drink..." he muttered.

He turned and trudged back downstairs towards to what you assumed was the kitchen. You listened to his heavy footsteps slowly fade.

When you thought he was out of hearing range, you began to sob. How could this ever happen to you? You thought he loved you. You'd been together for as long as you could remember. You had your quarrels but he'd never ever hit you.
And even if he apologized when he knew he crossed the line.

Yet, here you were, sobbing on floor at 3am after being hit twice by who you thought was your loving boyfriend. Thinking of this made even more tears well up in your eyes.

After wallowing for about 10 minutes, you decided you needed to see if there were any cuts from his rings or if there would be bruising, since you had a medical degree (before you left that life) and knew how to treat it.

You slowly got up after finding that your butt hurt from falling back onto it after the first blow. You lumbered to the large bathroom that was in the left half of the room.

You stood in front of the mirror, examining your right cheek with a grimace and puffy eyes. You gently brushed your fingers over the swollen red welt on your cheekbone that had been inflicted not long before.

You'd decided that there would definitely be a bruise, and you were surprised he didn't do more damage, based on the fact that he was strong enough to knock you over with the first one.

You sighed and felt like you wanted to cry again but the tears wouldn't come.

You turned and walked out of the bathroom to see Joker standing in the room, now staring at you. Your stomach did a flip and you backed away slowly, never taking your eyes off of him. You were so afraid of what he would do next.

Joker's POV:

I saw the look that she had in her eyes and it just broke my heart. I may be drunk, but I knew that I'd made a mistake...

To be continued

End
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