Joker and Harley oneshots and headcanons.

The Aftermath.

TW'S, childhood trauma, talk/mentions of SA.

Wordcount: 3,355.

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Harley sniffled as she hid her face in one of the many pillows on her and Joker’s bed. She didn’t care that she was getting mascara and tears all over the brand-new pillow; she had worse things to worry about.

She mumbled incoherently as she curled up on the oversized bed. She typically would have wished for Joker to come through the door, wipe her tears, pull her to him and kiss her cheek as if nothing had happened…but for once, she didn’t want to see him; not yet anyway. It was strange. She always wanted to be with him.

It was a rare thing, barely even a yearly thing, but she and her puddin had gotten into an argument. Harley almost didn’t want to admit it. They had disagreements, not arguments.

She whimpered into the pillow and her chest caved in. “Nuh–n-no-no.” She shook her head at herself as she tried to push thoughts away and remember all of the loving times she had with him. Anything, anything else but that! She thought.

Harley was startled by a knock on the door. No, please no, don’t be mad at me…

“Darling?”

Joker’s voice was soft, almost a whisper. Harley squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could just disappear as she felt a weight being added to the bed, followed by a hand on her shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to raise my voice, love. I’m very sorry.”

While they didn’t get in this situation often, Joker knew Harley couldn’t stand being yelled at by her partners; he also knew that it went much deeper than a simple dislike. 

Harley couldn’t find it in her to reply, so she just hid her face further into the pillow. “Please talk to me, sweetheart.” Joker’s hand left her shoulder to pull her hair back from her face, being careful to not tug on any strands trapped between her face and the pillow. “No more yelling, I promise. We could even whisper if you’d like?”

Joker let out a breath. “We don’t even have to speak, we could text if you want?”

She didn’t speak, but she forced her face from the pillow, letting him look at her. “Oh, baby…” Her face was covered with tears, redness, smudged mascara, and smeared eyeshadow. The poor thing looked like she had been crying for hours.

With a sniffle, she let her voice come out; cracked, quiet, and meek, but out.

“Don’t be mad.”

Joker wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that she spoke to him or saddened by her words. “My love…” he wiped away a fresh tear that was making its way down her cheek. “You know I can’t be mad at you.” 

Harley sat herself up, then reached her arms out towards him. She looked up at him, silently asking for permission. When she saw his soft, welcoming gaze, she practically threw herself on him, hiding in his chest and whimpering.

Joker grimaced in guilt, taking in a pained breath, and closing his eyes. Harley pulled away and looked down at her lap. She wiped her eyes and continued to look down in shame. “Sorry…”  Joker lightly shook his head. 

The guilt was hitting him full force now, and he was kicking himself. I know it upsets her, I know why. Why did I fucking do it? 

“It's my fault. You did nothing wrong.”

Joker took her hand, pausing her fidgeting. “I should have just shut my mouth in the first place. I know what being yelled at does to you. You don't deserve it.”