Arthur Fleck and Joker Imagines

Gotham's Most Wanted - Part 1 - Joker x Reader

Ok, so this is a challenge given to me by EarthAngelGirl20 (who is a brilliant writer, and I highly recommend you read her work). I love the idea and I hope this first part does it justice.

This imagine is set in the 1930s and Joker is a John Dillingeresque, classic American gangster of that time period.

Warnings: Thoughts of smut, and some language.

The bank manager was out of his office as soon as he saw the woman walk in. Both she and her brother were the most important account holders that the Gotham National Bank had, and there was always a little pomp and ceremony when either of them made an appearance.

"Good morning Ms. Wayne, such an honour to see you again." The manager said as he showed the young woman to his office.

"Hilary, some tea for Ms. Wayne please." The man called out to his assistant as he closed the door behind him.

"Now, Ms. Wayne, to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?"

She inwardly rolled her eyes; whenever Thomas or herself set foot into the bank, Mr. Hughes, the manager, would fawn all over them. She knew it was all fake, as long as the Wayne family fortune stayed in his vaults, he was happy, and he would do whatever it took to keep it there.

"Well Mr. Hughes, Thomas has asked me to come and transfer some funds so that we can purchase a property that has just come on the market."

As the conversation in the office continued, little did anyone in the bank or outside know that across the street sat a Model A Ford, whose passengers had been watching the bank for some time, waiting for the moment when it would be the best time to strike.

Today was the day that the bank received its weekly cash delivery, and that on top of whatever was already in the vault, meant the haul could prove to be substantial.

In the back seat of the car sat a man, his red suit concealed under a large black trench coat; his face hidden by an equally black fedora. For one final time he checked his Tommy gun, as wisps of smoke came from the cigarette that hung from his lips, choking the other occupants of the car.

"Boss, the delivery should be here any minute, and I've seen about ten people go into the bank, so it should be pretty quiet."

The man in the back seat looked at the others in the car, his infamous makeup now on show.

"Good. Now remember the plan. Mac you hit the tellers, John and George you grab the bag man, and Mickey you're with me; we get the manager and force him to open the vault. Bill, you stay outside and keep an eye out for the cops. In and out in four minutes, I want a clean job, nothing messy left behind."

Joker and his gang had already hit five banks in as many months, but today's job would be the biggest. Joker had been planning this heist for months; he had thought about every possible outcome, down to the finest detail.

The Wayne family fortune was in that bank, and Joker wanted every last cent of it. He wanted the Wayne's to know what it was like to be poor, to wonder where the next meal was coming from; to wonder where the next week's rent was coming from so that they could keep a roof over their heads. He wanted to bring the mighty Wayne family to its knees, and today would be the start of the process.

"Boss, look." Mac said from the driver's seat.

Joker looked out onto the damp Gotham streets, streets that up until a short while ago had been his home, the source of his livelihood, and his his life; and now he watched the nervous delivery man make his way from his truck up the stairs of the bank.